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Fizzarolli

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It brought to mind memories of what her first explosive pregnancy had been like, before she had a mountain of bureaucracy and paperwork to hold her down; it reminded her of when she was unimpeded by anything other than her own desires (which weren’t that much of an impediment to begin with), of when her very being was dedicated fully to the pursuit of maternal bliss. Much like before, the jumps in size she underwent were far in excess to what was expected of her; and, much like before, they were proportional as well. If her first pregnancy had left her immense in comparison with how she’d been before, then this second one had a much greater and far larger baseline to work from; while Pavita had never been small, her tits weren’t always so big they could reach the ground when she stood up, nor had her fertility been spiked to such absurd levels that she could repopulate entire continents. Take that, and add to it the sort of fertilization technology that a civilization as advanced as that one surely had, and it was frankly unsurprising that the second growth spurt was enough to completely demolish the room she was in. Granted, it was probably not a room to begin with, but likely some sort of illusion meant to keep her distracted while the aliens did their work; not that she particularly cared for it, given that it was her fate to eventually be surrounded on all sides by her own soft flesh, once her tits, belly and ass grew so much to accomodate for the needs of her pregnancy that her torso and head would barely account for a fraction of a fraction of her total size and mass. It had happened before and it would happen again, this much she had promised herself; not that she had much choice in the matter before, but now? Now she had no choice but to cut loose and let her instincts run wild, especially since there didn’t seem to be anyone there to stop her; maybe the aliens were counting on her thoroughly exceeding expectations, or perhaps she had simply grown too quickly for them to do anything at all. Whatever the case, Pavita already felt cramped in whatever closed space she was in, with one nipple pushing against one wall, another pushing against the opposite, while her belly was smushed against the ceiling by an ass that covered about half of the total floor space. And it was only then, at that moment, that the turkey realized it had only been two seconds since her fertilization, two moments of growth, two instants in a pregnancy that would most likely last several months… and she blanked out. Pavita was left in a state of half-consciousness, where she was only slightly aware of what was happening around her; it was much the same as it had been back when she first had her uncontrolled impregnation that started it all, in that she occasionally “woke up”, only to find herself so much larger compared to what she had been like beforehand that the sensation overload sent her right back into a dozed-off state in order to deal with the immense barrage of pleasure that threatened to overtake her. She was, ultimately, unable to properly deal with what she was experiencing, at least without her mind breaking in half, and that was exactly what she wanted: not for her to merely experience things as they were, but for the experience itself to be so outside of her ability to process it that her very brain stopped working properly, leaving her awash in an endless, rapturous ocean of bliss that nothing could compare to. The avian still felt the effects of the fertilization, in the sense that, on occasion, some sensory information still managed to reach her in a way that she could understand; she knew that walls were being broken down, she knew someone was shouting in a language she didn’t understand, and she knew that her body was barrelling over what felt like far too much terrain for such an early stage of her pregnancy… though, then again, if her goal was to repopulate entire planets, then surely she should expect to reach absurd sizes, sizes which would be unthinkable even for herself back on Earth. Hell, she was often left stranded atop a city-sized belly even when she was working for the government, making it impossible for her to imagine what her body would look like once she was ready to give birth to entire planets’ worth of life. Pavita could make an approximation in her mind’s eyes, sure, but ultimately it all became… conceptual. She was never that good at astronomy, nor at understanding the scales at which it operated, so visualizing herself at those sizes was all-but impossible for her; then again, there was a perfectly reasonable, and in fact far more effective alternative: feeling it. Disregarding her mental images completely, ignoring her sight, and focusing entirely on touch, as well as her limited bodily self-awareness; she might very well have been capable of telling where any part of herself was at any given time before she started growing, but now that her body had exploded with size, this was… slightly harder. Pavita knew that her belly was far larger than before, though putting a number to it was incredibly difficult; she felt her tits as well, swelling with milk and fat as they buried her underneath their heft, at least until, for some reason, her sense of balance flipped and her tits felt like they were being pulled down. Hard to tell what caused this, however, seeing as her ass had already grown so much as well that her cheeks had covered her once again, leaving the turkey in a cocoon of her own making that wouldn only get tighter and hotter with time. Already she could feel her body temperature skyrocketing, her poor heart beating at a rate so fast-paced that it felt like it was about to burst… yet, for each time it did, Pavita only felt better, more aroused, more energized, knowing that the pregnancy frenzy had finally begun in earnest. With each individual size spurt rapidly becoming exponential in nature, it certainly didn’t take long for her to completely overtake the planet she was on; unbeknownst to Pavita herself, the team of alien entities which had hired her did not have the slightest inkling as to what her true potential was like, having created their models based on what they had seen her accomplish. Thus, when the fertilization lab was utterly destroyed in a matter of seconds, and the colossal avian burst free from the facility it was built in before a minute passed, all they could do was sound the alarms and call for help from whoever had any clue what to do; distortion equipment was put in place, compressors activated and even spatial manipulation gear was used, all just in an attempt to stabilize Pavita’s growth. This accomplished absolutely nothing; no matter what the aliens did, their newest employee seemed intent on burgeoning outwards at such a fast rate that they couldn’t even establish a safety cordon before she cleared right past it. It didn’t take more than hour before the entire continent that Pavita was on vanished underneath her mounting size, and from there it was just a few more minutes before her body had become so heavy, so densely packed with young, that the gravitational balance between herself and the planet she was on began to shift. It wasn’t just her womb, of course; while her baby factory was certainly the biggest individual part of her, the rest of her form was equally gigantic, especially out in front: to say that her breasts were utterly gargantuan would be an understatement in itself, as both orbs were so absurdly huge that the only reason they weren’t carving out huge chunks off the planet itself was the belly they were resting on doing that on its own. With so many new lives inside of Pavita’s womb, it was of course necessary for her to make enough milk to feed them all… along with far, far more on top of that as a result of her tits being so hyper-sensitive to effectively anything that could potentially screw with her productivity in any manner. There was an excuse to make more milk, so they took it and ran with it, far in excess to what was actually needed, until, in a matter of just a handful of minutes, the gouts of cream firing into the upper atmosphere had begun to displace weather patterns across that empty world, blocking the light of the local star as they formed lactic clouds which then promptly began to rain down on the land… all of the land. Milky storms which would never abate for as long as Pavita was there, aided along by the sheer output of milk being such that it formed a thick shell around the planet; thankfully, the turkey wouldn’t be hanging around the place for much longer, if only because she had much larger targets to aim for now that no one was in control of her anymore. The alien entities certainly tried, with them, at one point, even going so far as to try and physically harm her via the use of energy weapons, only for them to inexplicably do nothing but leave minor bruises that vanished nearly instantly afterwards. It wasn’t their fault though; they simply didn’t know who they were dealing with. Then again, if they did, they probably wouldn’t have called on her to begin with, so perhaps it was better for them to remain ignorant of Pavita’s full potential, lest they try to do something drastic like try and stop her pregnancy before it “took”, even if that much was effectively impossible by that point. The amount of people involved with the turkey’s fertilization barely constituted a skeleton crew, as the alien entities had firmly believed that the avian would be nothing more than business as usual. Nothing could have prepared them for her not only outgrowing the surgical room, but the entire planet it was on in about the same time as she would have lunch… and yet, there she was: immense, vast, and (literally) massive enough that the floating rock she had just left behind was wracked by tectonic events of a scale never before seen, ripping the surface apart and exposing parts of the mantle as a result. The planet itself was dying before the observers’ eyes, and Pavita, being Pavita, kept on growing and bloating without a care in the universe, perfectly oblivious to the damage she was causing to her environs. She honestly just didn’t care; as long as she still had her pregnancy, as long as she wasn’t stopped, as long as she could feel the immense, almost unbearable heat and the ever-growing amounts of young inside of her, then it was all just perfect. As long as she could keep bloating further, as long as her tits could keep filling, then that’s all she really needed; plus, now that she was in space, she had nothing but empty space in which to grow into, so really, her newest employers should be happy that she was such a dutiful grower. Did they not want life? Did they not want to repopulate entire chunks of the galaxy? Then surely, they must be perfectly fine with Pavita giving them exactly what they wanted: so much life that her body overflowed with it, transforming her into a planetary-scale babymaker… for the time being, of course. She wasn’t about to stop there, not when she could clearly go even further still; why remain planetary in size when there was a star there that she could compete with? Hell, with so many stars as well, if only she looked further beyond! Granted, at that point, it was hard for her to even pretend to be in control anymore; whereas beforehand the turkey could live in the convenient and polite narrative that she was the one calling the shots, and the fact that her body clearly disagreed being her own decision, now it seemed downright ludicrous to even so much as think about making that same claim. She was not the one deciding on where things went; rather, it was her womb, her physical self in general in fact, who had taken the wheel, leaving her conscious mind to sit there and watch as it lost control of everything around it. Then again, Pavita wasn’t about to complain, because that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; she got to experience everything she normally did, except on a much larger scale, and she didn’t need to do anything at all? All she had to do was lie there (sit there?) and feel as her form bloated uncontrollably with each passing second? This wasn’t a curse so much as it was exactly what she had always wanted, given to her on a silver platter and delivered without so much as asking for anything in return; not that her new employers agreed, but they weren’t the ones in charge either, so what did they know? They gave her this beautiful blessing without realizing just how deep the hole they were digging was, and now they were reaping what they had sown; it wasn’t her fault that the entities failed to consider that she might be far more fertile than she had initially let on, nor was it her fault that they didn’t conduct a proper examination. Rather, it was their own carelessness which had led them down this path, where they ended up with a star system-sized Pavita who hadn’t even begun to grow properly yet. It had, after all, been barely two hours since she received the first eggs, and though in that short time she had already outgrown the planet she was taken to, the avian knew for a fact that what her employers were seeing was just the beginning; she had, after all, gone from person-sized to country-wrecking in her first major pregnancy, so after being trained for years on governmental contracts, then given an infusion of whatever alien spunk they gave her, she could only assume her true, final size would be big enough that those back on Earth would be capable of seeing her through a telescope… eventually, whenever the light bouncing from her form reached them of course. She was certainly getting there as well; even if Pavita couldn’t see herself, or at least more than just her immediate surroundings, she was clearly vast enough that her sensory nerves had simply ceased to function properly. It was literally impossible for her brain to handle everything it was receiving, even if it was getting the signals in real time; with her body being so immense that it had already displaced the local star while pushing on the outer edges of the system simultaneously, the light barrier had been broken, leading to her nerve pathways being so long that stimuli took seconds to minutes for any stimulus to even reach her at all… a number that would only get higher and higher as time went on and she grew further still. It reached a point where Pavita was legitimately stuck not feeling anything; or rather, her conscious half, the one that could still produce thoughts, had been quarantined away from the rest of her, leaving her thinking mind, and thus her very self, to just float there, not knowing what to do. Pavita was aware that, on some level, she was feeling enough pleasure that her brain decided to switch it off just to keep her sane, which was itself a perfect jumping-off point to help her get off once again for what felt like the tenth time that day. She hadn’t even noticed her hands being between her legs (or at least as far between as they could go, given how thick they were), nor did Pavita realize that she’d been drifting in and out of consciousness on a regular basis already; it was too much for her, too much for her mind to truly take, too much for her body to withstand, and as such, she simply stopped working the way she usually did. It was much like back in the first pregnancy, only in the later stages of it; by the time she crossed state lines, Pavita recalled being in such a state that she would just fall unconscious for a while before awakening to find herself even larger than she ever remembered being, the process repeating itself until, at some point, her water broke and she actually had to give birth. She found herself in much the same situation, albeit on a scale significantly greater than anything she had experienced back on her homeworld, and to a certain point, that much was comforting; it was good to know that, even though she had outgrown an entire star system and was well on her way to reach the next closest one, the process itself wasn’t at all unfamiliar. Far from it, in fact, as all it took was for Pavita to relax for a bit before the same sensations that had rocked her into a semi-permanent fugue state back on Earth to make themselves known. At the end of the day, it was all out of her hands; as much as she would’ve loved to take control of the situation to make herself even bigger, Pavita knew that whatever happened next was entirely up to her body’s automatic systems, and she herself was only there as a passenger, a spectator to the spectacle of her own physicality. She was certain her employers would be trying to stop her at every step of the way, using increasingly desperate measures that would accomplish precisely nothing, and that, somehow, left her feeling even better than before: it was the understanding that, no matter what they did, no matter what anyone did, she was destined to grow and expand forevermore, until there was nothing but her… but then, what would happen next? Her eyes shot wide open as the realization dawned on her, the exact same one that had hounded her back on Earth: if she truly went full-out, if she truly became the broodmother she always dreamed of being, then that was it. No more contracts, alien or not, no more getting pregnant, no more enjoying the joys of motherhood, and certainly no more making herself bigger overall; paradoxically, and much to her dismay, if she wanted to get bigger, she needed to exert some degree of self-restraint, at least within the bounds of what was expected of her. Pavita had, after all, signed a contract, and seeing as the creatures mentioned “no more than ten years”, then it stood to reason that this should be the goal she established for herself. Granted, the turkey had absolutely no idea what ten years’ worth of being gravid actually meant when it came to scales that large, but she figured that if she at least tried to contain herself, even if it did nothing, then this would be seen as a gesture of good faith on the part of her employers. Maybe, if she pretended as if she was sorry for the whole thing and just didn’t know that she was that fertile, they would be inclined to listen to her, nevermind the fact that it was a complete lie. Of course, this did beg the question of how she was supposed to do that; was she expected to just shout out for the voice that spoke to her and hope that it showed up? “Hey!” she did exactly so, “Can you hear me? Anyone? Is anyone around?” There was a brief period of “silence”, whereby Pavita could tell she wasn’t alone. Much like whenever one woke up in the middle of the night with the utmost belief that something was waiting for them just on the other side of the sheets, so too was the turkey convinced that a presence was in there with her, in the tiny space between her ass and tits where her torso and head were. It was at once familiar and somewhat hostile, which, given who it probably was, made perfect sense. All that Pavita could do was break into open apologetics, begging for whoever might be listening to please understand that she just didn’t know, that it wasn’t her fault, that her body reacted far quicker than she could’ve ever expected it to; surely they wouldn’t blame her for being overwhelmed at first, given how “surprising” it was, and surely they couldn’t blame her for the damages, since it wasn’t as if she could tell her body how much to grow. There was yet more silence before an answer was given, and even then, it came in a tone far too accusatory for her liking: “The terms of the contract stipulated that any prior medical conditions should be reported to us. Are you trying to say you were unaware of your potential?” “Yes!” Pavita lied through her beak, “I had no clue! You saw me down on Earth, the biggest I ever got was the first time around, and that was just what, half a country? How could I have known?!” There was a brief moment where the avian believed that her fib hadn’t worked, that her employers had seen through her ruse and knew better than to take her at face value. A moment that lasted for long enough that Pavita began sweating from something other than the heat she was surrounded by, the oppressive presence growing ever more overbearing with time… or, perhaps, she simply imagined that it did, locked as she was in an internal struggle to not allow her expression to falter and give the whole scheme away. It was with an immense amount of relief that she felt the incorporeal entity’s anger begin to fade away, though when it spoke again, it did so with a tone that made it clear that it, or the many creatures composing it at least, were exceptionally irritated at the proceedings. “It seems we miscalculated, and will have to adapt. Damages done cannot be recuperated, but at least no casualties have been reported; can you exert any level of control over yourself?” - the voice waited for Pavita to energetically move her head from side to side - “Unfortunate. As per the terms of the contract, we will be forced to apply emergency containment measures. Please, take this pill.” With that, a single small capsule appeared in front of Pavita’s face, falling onto her thanks to the pull exerted by her overstuffed body. The avian had legitimately forgotten just how big she was, and had expected the little thing to remain freefloating; that it didn’t only made it more obvious how colossal she had become, leaving her to wonder if she really should take the pill and hold herself back once again. It almost felt criminal to do so, to go all the way like she had and still end up not realizing her full potential, to literally outgrow an entire planet and then slam on the brakes just at the last moment, keeping herself from becoming larger than anything else in existence… yet, at the same time, she had just fooled her employers into thinking she had no clue about her own fertility, which as far as the turkey cared, was an immense win; it meant that she could actually keep going after taking the pill, it meant that she could not only fulfill the terms of the contract, but actually have an opportunity to bargain for a new one once she was done. And she would be done with it, since she wasn’t about to float around waiting for ten years; she was more than capable of fulfilling her quotas in far less time, and as long as she could convince her handlers that she was more of an asset than a liability, then really, there was no reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to take an even bigger contract after she was done with that one. Granted, it’d be difficult to find a project that required that amount of fertility, but surely a civilization as advanced as the entities’ would find some way to make good use of her and her unique abilities… so she took it. With two fingers, she plucked the pill from her stretched self and swallowed it, almost immediately feeling her body temperature plummeting down from the insane heights it had been at before. For a moment, Pavita wondered whether she would freeze in the coldness of space, but after she stabilized at room temperature (somehow), such fears revealed themselves to be unfounded; unfortunately, her exponential growth seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed down enough that her brain was actually managing to keep up with all the sensory overload it was forced to handle. In the following hours, Pavita would go through the whole catalogue of sensations that her physical form had been made to feel, forcing her through multiple cycles of euphoric highs followed by dreadful periods of complete normality as her pleasure centers rebooted in preparation for the next wave. It was hard work, dealing with herself like that, so much so that she spent most of the time limp and moaning as the waves of bliss crashed into her, as if she were literally adrift in an ocean of enjoyment, as opposed to just figuratively. Whether or not it was caused by the pill itself, Pavita couldn’t tell, but this fugue state she was left in lasted for her long enough that she completely lost track of time; perhaps the whole point was to knock her out hard enough that she couldn’t tell how long it took for her to come back to proper consciousness, at which point she’d go under almost immediately afterwards thanks to the backlog of bodily sensory feedback that never seemed to end. She was still massive, that much she was certain, but it lacked the same sense of overwhelming, apocalypse-level of power that it did before; rather, she was merely big enough to eclipse multiple star systems and the space between them, enough so that the amount of young inside of her would most likely be enough to have her complete the contract’s quotas within a much shorter time span than originally intended. Not more though, and that left Pavita feeling slightly disappointed about the whole thing… but then she remembered her body’s penchant for growth after each pregnancy, and the whole plan she had for asking for larger contracts, and things didn’t feel that bad afterwards; since, at the end of the day, this wasn’t going to be the last time she became involved with something on that scale, and the next time? The next time would be the one, even if it killed her. *** Months passed, mostly in a daze. Pavita ceased being able to keep track of how long she’d been pregnant for, but when the day came where her waters broke and she flooded an entire nebula because of it, she was informed that her pregnancy had lasted the customary half a year expected for first-time employees… though her actual output far exceeded that of even seasoned veterans. Pavita could barely hold back a smile when he was given the full list of what she had accomplished, the numbers provided being so absurd that all she could really do was lie there as she was slowly emptied out, wondering what was going through her employers’ heads when they realized just how heavily they bit off more than they could chew. Even better was how they seemed unaware that the only reason they even managed to contain the broodmother was because she wanted it; while Pavita lacked the ability to directly control herself, she would’ve loved to see them try and hold her back if she didn’t want to hold herself back. Still, at least it gave them a false sense of security, a belief that they were somewhat aware of how far the avian could go, when in reality all they saw was Pavita after she gave up trying to push the line too hard. It had, ultimately, gone entirely according to plan: just as she was finishing up delivering all of her babies, a week and a half after she started doing so, Pavita was informed that she was entitled to a customary one month off, which “management” agreed to extend to two given the sheer degree to which the avian had bloated and filled with life. According to them, at least, it was meant to give her some time to adjust to her new size before starting the next round (and to give them time to find a job that would require someone like her); for Pavita herself, this couldn’t have come at a better occasion, given that her body had taken quite well to the hyper-sized pregnancy she had been saddled with for the past half a year. It almost felt quaint to remember she used to think her tits or ass were big: now that each of her milkers was large enough that it needed a warehouse of its own, not to mention an entire factory-sized milking pump just to keep it stable, let alone drained, plus how her asscheeks had burgeoned outwards to each be about as large as a city block as a result of her motherly thighs turning her lower half into the divine picture of fertility, she was now… almost perfect. Yes, her torso constituted nothing more than a fraction of her whole self, and the only reason her bust wasn’t tearing down the planet she was on was because it was actively drained at every single moment of every single day, but she could go further than that. She could try harder and become bigger if she truly wanted to. She just needed to be given a chance to do so. And with a new contract about to drop? That’s exactly what she was going to do.

With all three of them exhausted from the sudden workout, they worked their way back to their feet, quite a difficult feat given that Tria and Sheyla were now carrying several eggs inside of them and Drash had to balance a large set of balls and two throbbing, eager cocks. The floor around them was painted in their juices, and their clothes were turned into tatters; as much as they wanted to stay decent, and indeed they did, there wasn’t a lot they could do when their shirts were just strips of cloth and their jeans had more holes in them than fabric. They stared at the destruction with some confusion, wondering why their clothes had just up and wrecked themselves like that, but figured it was probably just due to their enthusiasm; besides, they were in a mall anyway, so they could just get new ones! Better do it soon as well, because the eggs inside of the two women’s wombs were already starting to develop, their multiplication beginning in earnest when they waddled out of the bathroom and back into café proper; each egg turned to two, two eggs turned to four, and before long they had their bellies swell outwards, becoming heavier and heavier with each step they took and drawing increasingly louder moans from both dragonesses. This had quite the effect on the rest of the customers around them, who had seen a trio of perfectly regular-looking, if incredibly aroused dragons walk past them, and were now met with completely different people altogether. It would’ve been scandalous, and yet what they felt instead was a certain degree of attraction for the sight; after all, how could they not blush at Tria and Sheyla’s double row of milk-leaking breasts or their enormous, gravid wombs? How could they not look at Drash and have to immediately look away, lest his twin cocks make them want to jump his bones and beg for attention? The three dragons were both acutely aware of how many people were staring at them and intensely embarrassed by it; with bodies like theirs, they always had to take extra care not to show off, or else this always happened. What they didn’t expect was the positive reception, nor the loud comments on how good they looked; after such a thorough breeding as the one that Drash’s partners had gone through, the amount of pheromones flying around them had gone wild, and though they didn’t yet overwhelm bystanders, they certainly affected their ability to think properly. It was just their luck that there was a clothes store literally across the hallway from the establishment, because Sheyla and Tria weren’t going to last much longer. As was usual, their pregnancies progressed at an extremely quick pace, and they weren’t halfway to their destination before both of them tripped and fell forward… falling about an inch or two, given their egg-swollen wombs were just that large. Their moans could be heard all throughout the mall, other customers or passers-by having their heads turn immediately towards the display of fertility happening right there in front of them; the pressure was simply too high for the two women to withstand, and within minutes they were both actively pushing out their egg load, one after another clacking heavily against the flooring and when they hit one another, forming two large, growing piles behind each of the dragonesses as they slowly emptied themselves out… or, as they liked to think of it, made room for more eggs further down the line. It took a while, but eventually they were done, their midriffs back at their normal, flat size, their wombs ready for more, and the eggs stacked up about as tall as Drash’s chest; everyone around them had stopped doing whatever they were doing just to look at the proceedings, and though a few of them thought it might be a good idea to call security, none did, allowing Tria, Dash and Sheyla to walk straight into the clothes store unopposed. Once inside, it became clear that finding attire that fit them wouldn’t be as easy as they expected; it was made worse by how none of the workers there seemed to know where they could find anything in their size, with many even asking if the three dragons were “being serious” and whether they should be calling the police about public indecency… though these attempts at establishing normality wouldn’t last for long. As the three lovers remained within the store, so too did the pheromone cloud increase in intensity, making it exceedingly difficult for any of the employees to resist it the more they breathed it in; they still couldn’t give their favourite customers what they wanted (hell, no one could given their size), but at least they began to apologize rather than threatening to kick them out. Nevertheless, Sheyla insisted they try something out anyway, and went off to pick a few items for herself with Tria following closely. Five minutes later, both women were standing outside a single changing booth, staring at one another through squinted eyes. They could just pick different ones, but they both wanted Drash to come in with them, and that would mean having to share the dragon between them, which as far as they cared was simply not a possibility; though it was almost impossible for them to fit at the same time, they nonetheless tried to do it anyway, smushing their many tits together before popping out the other side, nearly tripping onto one another, while their male lover followed behind them, sighing and rolling his eyes. With the curtain drawn, the three could finally have some privacy, and that’s where the real trouble began. The actual trying out of clothes was nothing if not a polite fiction they came up with to justify getting to fuck Drash again, but unlike at the café bathroom, both Tria and Sheyla now felt an intense, burning need to be the only one with access to those twin cocks; after all, both of them had two mounds to fill (just like they always had, of course), so it only made sense for them to monopolize the dragon… but which one? With so little room to move in, it wasn’t surprising that the drake’s girlfriend and mother immediately began to push into one another, trying to get the other out of the way so they could be the ones to smother Drash, resulting in quite a bit of movement for a changing booth that could barely hold two of them, let alone three. The walls were rocking, the curtain swaying, and occasionally they were fully visible to the outside world, and to the employees growing increasingly concerned about what was going to happen. As for the dragon, who was by then flattened against one wall and already sick and tired of the fighting, he decided to put his foot down and do the only thing he could: grab one of his mom’s nipples, and one of his girlfriend’s. The ensuing pair of moans was audible throughout the clothes store, the hallway outside, and all the way back to the entrance of the mall, turning blushes a deeper shade of red and letting everyone know just what was about to happen; it was just like it always did, with the two dragonesses getting into a fight over who got to fuck Drash before he stepped in and made that decision for them, just like all those other times. He remembered the first opportunity he had for Sheyla to meet Tria, around the time of his 18th birthday, and what was supposed to be a friendly get-together turning into an hours-long marathon of rutting and breeding that ended with them filling their living room with dozens upon dozens of eggs… or at least, that’s how he remembered it happening; it made the most sense to him that it was how it went down, even if it felt weird for some reason. No matter; he had his hands on his lovers’ tits and he was going to make good use of them. The limited amount of space made it harder than normal for them got a good rhythm going, but as soon as he began bucking his hips into one or the other, all thoughts of rivalries and competitions began to fade away; they would return later on, as they inevitably did, but as long as the two were having their insides stretched out by a pair of cocks big enough to slam into their cervix every time they bottomed out, Tria and Sheyla had better things to worry about, such as begging for more, screaming for more, whimpering for more, and lactating so much from all the stimulation that the employees outside of their changing booth were already having to grab mops to start cleaning up after their mess. This was, in all respects, completely normal for them… or so they assumed; it felt normal at least. How exactly the changing booth managed to keep itself in one piece was, perhaps, the greatest miracle of that day so far, as the three of them put so much energy behind every motion that they felt like the whole thing was always just about to collapse around them. With eight milky tits and two hyperactive cocks to go around in total though, it wasn’t all that surprising that there was plenty of lubrication to keep them going, nor was it anything out of the ordinary that, upon reaching climax for the second time in under thirty minutes, all three of them made such an utter mess that not only were they completely covered in their own juices, but the puddle of milk and cum on the floor had already grown to cover a large chunk of the store outside their booth. Not only that, but both Tria and Sheyla were once again made pregnant with plenty of eggs… though not in the same way as before. They were all slightly bigger going out than they had been going in, though not as changed as with the café bathroom. Both dragonesses still had two rows of breasts and Drash only had his twin shafts and equally paired set of four balls, but rather than increasing in quantity, they did so in quality; though they weren’t yet big enough to keep them from moving, the two women’s tits had grown to the point where they covered most of their chest and sloshed heavily with each step they took, small spurts of milk erupting from their teats whenever those things slapped against their torso. Their hips had flared out and their thighs had fattened, giving them the motherly, child-bearing shape that true breeders like them should have, while their asscheeks had packed away quite a bit of extra pudge as well. They were eminently squeezable, their bodies begging for attention, and by comparison, all Drash had to his name were bigger cocks and bigger balls; it was simple, yes, but it was enough for what his role was meant to be: the one person entrusted to breed both women until they couldn’t move any longer. Internally, however, both Sheyla and Tria had undergone a radical change: an extra womb had appeared inside of their bodies, serviced by a brand new trio of ovaries and ready to both accept more seed and turn itself into an extra egg factory. The new clutch was thus equally divided between these two distinct egg makers, and while this did mean that they’d have more time before reaching critical mass, it also meant that their hunger was suddenly redoubled, given the need to not only recover from their earlier egg-laying, but to feed a brand new generation as well; thus, Sheyla suggested that they come back to their clothes shopping later, and instead focus on getting something to eat. That this meant they would be going around naked didn’t register when them, as indeed it was entirely normal for them to do so; at that point, even the staff on call wasn’t capable of stopping them, being utterly consumed by the warm aroma of milk and spunk that filled the air of their place of business, the pheromone cloud surrounding the three draconic creatures becoming so powerful that it began to affect a wider and wider area. Such was its potency that, once the three of them stepped outside and turned towards the restaurants at the end of the corridor, not a single person near them so much as said a single word about them being naked; in fact, many would even go so far as to actively praise them for how good they looked, or encourage them to flaunt their stuff or even “breed harder” once they noticed the two mothers-to-be’s swelling bellies. Wherever they went, it seemed as if their influence on those around them grew exponentially, even more than they themselves did, and given the state of their bodies, moving from anywhere to anywhere else quickly became a chore and a half; not only was it hard for Sheyla and Tria to even move without their immense busts getting in the way, their increased sensitivity forcing them to stop just so they could recover from how much their tits swaying from side to side spiked their arousal, but their weight as well made it difficult to walk as quickly as they used to. Occasionally they’d have to sit down, either on a bench or just on the ground, in order to milk themselves and relieve some of the pressure, and seeing as the eggs inside of their wombs continued to multiply, getting back up became harder with each time they stopped to rest. Similarly, Drash was just on a slow walk towards immobility, at least until he got to empty himself; it seemed as if for every minute he spent not actively cumming his brains out, his nuts would bloat a couple of inches in every direction; though initially he was extremely embarrassed by this and reluctant to do anything about it, the desperation became such that he started to openly stroke himself in front of everyone just to help the pressure go down… and this, once again, cause a whole load of other problems. The rivalry between Sheyla and Tria had returned in full force, and not a moment went by that they weren’t actively trying to screw the other one over for access to Drash and his seemingly endless cum production, and seeing as their new bodies made moving down a hallway take far longer than normal, there were plenty of these moments for them to sabotage the other’s efforts; eventually, however, even their attempts at one-upping one another devolved into the most simplistic of gestures: trying to get in front of Drash whenever the dragon began to jack off to get some of his cum out before he exploded. It was slippery, it was inelegant, and after a certain point, they were too heavy to get back up after inevitably falling on the ground. With two wombs to fill to capacity, and with both of them capable of stretching even more, both women were almost lifted off from the ground, only able to reach it with the tips of their toes by the time the eggs began to flow out of them again. The resulting egg stacks at the end were… large, to say the least, large enough to be as tall as Drash, but that wasn’t the worst part about them; no, the worst part was that, despite the serious workout that both Tria and Sheyla went through, their wombs, which should by all means be utterly exhausted, felt dreadfully empty instead. Their bodies cried out for a bigger filling, begging for more cum to turn into another clutch, and this was fine. It was perfectly normal, after all. Once they were back on their feet, the three progressed towards their destination, not really worrying about the piles of fertilized eggs they left behind, nor how they seemed to attract onlookers like magnets; all they wanted was to sit down and get something to eat, and yet somehow, something as simple as that just wasn’t possible anymore. “Have the chairs gotten smaller?” Sheyla wondered aloud, “I don’t remember sitting here being so uncomfortable…” “I swear, it’s like they don’t even care about us,” Tria scoffed, “I knew management was spotty, but ignoring our size needs is just ridiculous! What, are we expected to just sit here like normal people? Preposterous!” Drash was going to say something, but on seeing just how difficult it was for his two partners to find any comfortable sitting position, he reconsidered; even while keeping one of their pairs of breasts on top of the table and the other one beneath, smushed against their lap, both dragonesses kept fidgeting around, unable to stop as some part of the table or chairs pressed uncomfortably against their soft skin. He himself was going through something similar, having had to spend a good five minutes just to let his nuts spill over the edge and onto the empty space beneath them. The sounds of creaking wood filled the air as their seats struggled to deal with their increased weight, with cracks appearing not only on the legs of the chairs, but the surface of the table as well; the poor waiter who dared to walk up to them was quick to notice this, but (correctly) deduced that it was best not to bring anything up… at least for the five or so seconds he had before the pheromones got to them too. “S-So, what’ll it be for today?” the young man asked, his words slurred as his mind slipped away from his control, “We have a… s-special on veal that… goes really well with m-milk, I mean uh… y-yeah, milk, milky… y-yeah…” He was no longer looking at his notepad. In fact, he wasn’t even holding onto it properly anymore; damned thing splashed onto the milk-splattered ground just after he stopped talking, raising the eyebrows of all three dragons at the table. The waiter tried to get his words back out, but despite giving it his best shot, was left a stuttering, sputtering mess that could barely make sounds properly, let alone sentences; he gave them a quick nod, then turned around and immediately ran through one of the doors leading to the back rooms, leaving Tria, Drash and Sheyla to sit there and stare at one another wondering what had just happened. While they attempted to make sense of this odd behaviour, the floor immediately around their table turned into a true disaster area, given the sheer amount of fluids gushing out from so many spots on their bodies; whether it be the drake’s twin cocks spurting gallons of his cum with each twitch or the collective eight breasts on the two dragonesses leaking even larger amounts of milk, there wasn’t a single square inch that remained dry, and the misshapen mass of juices only grew wider with each passing moment. All three found this to be incredibly odd; did the restaurant not have drains installed in the ground? They distinctly remembered establishments like those having to make special allowances for individuals like them, thus keeping storm drains ready for whenever they came in; this allowed them to reserve special tables where they could sit at and not bother the rest of the customers, which, despite their growing libido, was still not something they intended to do. So to look around and notice how their mess was only getting bigger, with nothing there to stop it, left them perplexed; surely the restaurant should know better than that? As they thought about it, their bodies continued to change, though not to the degree that they had whenever they were “fed” via sexual intercourse; each of Sheyla and Tria’s tits slowly swelled up with extra mass, even while in full flow, and Drash’s nuts soon followed suit, contributing to an ever-escalating spillage problem that was already oozing out the door and into the hallway outside. A few short minutes after they noticed this, and with no waiter in sight, the service door opened wide and a large, burly man dressed in a sharp suit walked out to meet them, almost slipping on the unholy mixture of milk and cum that now covered most of the establishment’s floor; he wrestled with his own arousal in quite obvious a fashion before shaking his head and clearing his throat, and despite having a pronounced blush on his face, managed to get a few words out: “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he stated, not really confidently, “we’re simply not equipped to deal with individuals of your size and… other attributes, so please, you’ll have to find some other place that can cater to your needs, as you’re disturbing the other customers. I apologize, I really do.” Drash was about to start a ruckus, already getting up to point out how the “other customers” were either swooning over them or outright making loud commentary on how hot they were, when his mother cleared her own throat and stared him back down into his chair; her eyes were like cold daggers whenever she needed to remind him of his manners, and though the words that came out of her mouth next were as icy as they could be, she somehow managed to deliver them in a sweet, almost sickeningly adorable tone: “I guess we’ll have to go somewhere that actually cares about its customers then. Drash, Sheyla, let’s go.” With that, she pushed her chair back and walked right out the door, with the other two draconids hot on her tail. It was clear from her expression that Tria wanted to shout at someone, but knew better than to make a scene; especially considering all three of them were already a walking scene as it was, something she was quick to point out to the other two before turning towards the nearest bathroom. And the dragoness was right, they did have to clean up; after spending so long sitting in one place, their bodies were utterly covered in their own fluids, and something had to be done about it, lest they keep smelling like spunk and cream for the rest of the day. As usual, the trio walked into the bathroom together, scaring off the two women that were already in there; Drash leaned against one of the stalls while the dragonesses each took a sink, plopping their double rows of tits on top of them so that the milk could run down a drain for once. As Sheyla and Tria got ready to clean up, which at that point meant splashing some water onto their busts and calling it a day, Drash couldn’t help but notice just how deliciously alluring they looked from where he was standing. Not only did he get to see their plump butts on full display, he also had a privileged point of view of the frankly obscene amount of backboob that they both sported; just like it always did, this sight triggered so many animal instincts inside of him that it was a wonder he managed to keep himself from running straight at them in order to have a repeat of earlier that day in the other café… though, given how hard his cocks were throbbing, he seriously doubted he could hold himself back for much longer. Each heartbeat made them twitch, pre and cum oozing out in equal measure, before the latter began to overpower the former again; once more in full flow and ready to breed, and there weren’t a lot of reasons for him not to do it. If only he hadn’t been so spoiled; as if Sheyla being an utterly insatiable succubus wasn’t enough, he also had his mother to deal with whenever his girlfriend wasn’t around. Not a single day had gone by since his eighteenth birthday that he didn’t have Tria riding his dicks in some way or another, effectively creating a brand new normal where not fucking someone multiple times in a day was unnatural, and the regular state of affairs involved him, two tight slits, and enough cum being pumped to fill his lovers’ multiple wombs several times over. And if it wasn’t Sheyla, it was his mom, and if not Tria, then his girlfriend; he barely had time for school anymore, not when he was constantly being shoved into a bathroom stall at college and basically ordered to fill his special other up until she was leaking like a faucet, and studying at home wasn’t an option either, given his mom’s unending appetite for his cock. Honestly, the two of them were lucky he wasn’t already plowing them where they stood… though he felt like he should be doing something about that. Because fuck, his nuts were getting tight again. Sheyla and Tria seemed to be thinking the same, because they were absolutely positioning themselves such that their butts protruded outwards and jiggled obscenely with each of their movements; they weren’t cleaning themselves as much as they were preparing their bodies for what was coming, seeing as there was very little chance the three of them would be leaving the bathroom without making sure the ground was completely covered in their juices and their bodies were bloated by the drake’s seed. It wasn’t a need or desire, it was just how things worked around them; the two dragonesses were insatiable, Drash was bottomless, so it only made sense that they made (frequent) good use of this heavenly combination and filled their wombs with seed so that they could produce more eggs. It was something they usually did, after all, even if they didn’t quite understand how that was true when they didn’t have a small army of children waiting for them back home; all they knew for certain was that random fucking in public places was an “unfortunate” reality of having such hyperactive bodies as theirs, and it wouldn’t be the first time they did it somewhere as out in the open as that. In fact, Drash in particular remembered one occasion where him and his mother were personally responsible for a whole bathroom being put out of order, coincidentally on the day of his eighteenth birthday; his mom wanted to give him something special, so after they were done eating lunch at their favourite place, she took him into one of the stalls, one thing led to another, and then a few dozen mops had to take care of the spillage. Sheyla had also been on the receiving end of this sort of incident multiple times, though it was Drash the one responsible for them; the amount of times the two of them clogged up entire hallways was so high that both of them had given up counting a long time ago. Didn’t take a lot of effort to go from this to taking a few steps forward and sinking one of his hands into Sheyla’s ass and the other in Tria’s, licking his lips and making sure both women knew exactly how horny he was by loudly slapping his cocks on the side of their bodies. There was a short moment where the dragonesses stared at one another, their eyes narrowing as their rivalry kicked up again and flared up, enough that they were ready to come to blows over who’d get to ride the drake first, but it was just that: a moment. Now that Drash had decided that it was time to breed, it was time to breed, and they were no longer competitors; they were pliable, subservient broodmothers whose only role was to be big, curvaceous and plump so that their beloved dragon lover could fill them up with so much cum they wouldn’t be able to walk properly. Within seconds, the two were in very much the same position they had been back at the café: one on top of the other, their puffed-up mounds grinding against one another, sweat glistening on their bodies as they begged for Drash to fill them… and how couldn’t he? He moved forward, angling his twin cocks so that each woman would get one to fill them up properly, and the rest was just mechanical. The three of them were so used to these encounters that the only reason they were even entertaining anymore was precisely because their bodies were so sensitive; as much as they feared that it would become routine, all it took was for their beloved drake to bottom out inside of them for all their fears to be just as destroyed as their ability to think, and that was on the first thrust of goodness knows how many. Keeping their tight hold over one another became harder and harder as their many wombs bloated and inflated with Drash’s spunk, their bellies growing wider and more spherical, their bodies thickening as the same magic that had made them that way began to work its wonders on them again; with such a hyperactive breeder providing such ample fuel, was it any wonder that each dragoness sprouted an extra pair of tits, already filled with milk and drowning the floor in their cream? Certainly not as surprising as them growing an extra mound each, just so they could enjoy Drash’s double shafts properly, but more so than the size boost their breasts received, leaving their torso completely covered in soft, milkstuffed flesh that bounced and jiggled aggressively with each motion of the drake’s hips. Already they had new eggs forming inside of them, a solid core that would begin multiplying within seconds of coming into existence, only adding to the growing problem that were their gravid wombs; soon, the two women had to plop onto their sides just to have enough room to move around... … and Drash would have to make a decision on who to fuck first.

Dragonslayer Reparations: Mistress Mellik Sleep came and went, filled for both with dreams of dragons and sex. Sweet dreams for Mellik, and horrific nightmares for Krissa. The Sire Jeyarr awoke with a yawn, stretching hir arms, legs, and wings. Shi found hir pet nearby, the elf looking at hir with wide eyes, half in awe, half in fear. "Mistress, what did you do to me?" she whimpers, "I can't get away. I can't pick up my sword if I even think of using it to hurt you. I can't bring myself to put on the clothes in my backpack. I can't stop thinking of you as my Mistress. Please, I won't hurt another dragon as long as I live, I swear." Mellik chuckled and gave hir new toy a soft caress on the cheek. "Of course you won't, little one. You're going to be right here by my side, tending to my desires, and tending to your own clutches of eggs." Her mistress just kept stroking her. "Because you can't lie to your mistress." "I shouldn't want to fuck dragons. I shouldn't want to lay your eggs. I don't want to be your pet, but I can't even raise a hand against you. I can't get out of sight of you without feeling nervous and afraid. If I walk any further then that rock over there I'm so filled with fear that I have to rush right back over here and sit next to you. I... I... oh gods, I want to... want to do things to you. I want to pleasure you in such repugnant ways. There are these images in my mind - I don't know where they're from, but they're so disgusting, and exciting. Please, make this stop. I don't want to be like this," Krissa pleaded, hugging the dragoness tightly. "Ssssh, you're just frightened because it's all so new to you. You're my pet now; it's the purpose you were meant for. To bring pleasure to dragons, not pain. Now why don't you please your mistress by doing one of those revolting and arousing things that are in your head?" the Sire Jeyarr purrs. Krissa licked her lips, "Oh no... please... no..." she whispered, unable to stop herself. The elf kissed Mellik's shoulder, her tongue darting out of her mouth, tracing down brown and grey scales, over silver markings and tanned skin, down her mistress' belly to the dragoness's groin. Mellik purred as the elven girl lapped at hir sheath-slit. Shi let hir maleness slide free into Krissa's awaiting mouth. The Jeyarr in training whimpered softly as she felt the warm, slick organ slip in between her lips. "Mmmm... very nice, pet. But unfortunately, in this position, I'm not at all able to return the favor. Go ahead and pleasure yourself, pet. I don't mind." Mellik said with a cruel chuckle. A soft snuffle came from the elf as one of her hands darted to her sex, two fingers immediately sliding in and out of herself with practiced technique. "Oh my, you've done this to yourself before, my dear, and you're already wet too. For someone who finds this absolutely repulsive, you certainly are incredibly excited by it." The dragoness lays back, letting hir playtoy do all the work. Though shi still missed hir own mistress, having a pet of hir own was interesting. It would be quite fun training hir pretty little elf on all the proper ways to behave as a Jeyarr. Amongst them would be not whimpering like a puppy while sucking her mistress off. "Be quiet pet!" Mellik said with a growl, sitting up to scowl at Krissa, only to find the elven girl twitching and wiggling her rump. Sitting up further, Mellik saw why. The tiny purple dragon, Davari, had decided to join in on the fun. The cat sized dragon had his head almost buried inside Krissa's cunt. The sight brought a grin to Mellik's face. "You can stop now, dear. I think I have a better idea." the dragoness purred. Surprisingly Krissa did nothing of the sort. "Stop, pet." Mellik repeated in a firm tone. Krissa pulled away slowly, looking up at the Sire with half-open yes. "Mmmm..." she purred, licking her lips, "Please let me finish, Mistress." the elf begged, overcome with her first taste of the sensations a Jeyarr felt while pleasuring a dragon. Mellik knew that Krissa's fear, loathing, disgust, and dislike of dragons were stuffed into a back corner of her mind. Obedience, contentment, happiness, desire, and pleasure filled in the gaps. A single drop of a dragon's sexual fluids on her body would be enough to make the elf wonderfully horny and pliable. As she was now, she would be eager and willing to do whatever her mistress asked, and it would only be later that the elf would feel sickened by the things she had performed that had seemed like being of her own free will. Mellik crawled forward, running hir clawed handpaws over hir pet's belly. The former Slayer moaned softly, even the slightest touch from her mistress in this state sent wonderful waves of pleasure through her body. "We'll have plenty of time for that, little pet. And when we're done, you'll be all the better equipped to pleasure me with your mouth." The dragoness reached down, picking up the tiny purple dragon engaged in lapping at Krissa's sopping wet folds. "The dragon familiar is another thing that you Slayers have continued to use without knowing why. They're meant to help you and guide you to finding a dragon to bond with, but after that?" shi said with a wide fanged grin. "After that, their purpose changes greatly. You've seen how much he likes your nice, dripping wet cunt. Now, open wide and give him what he wants." Mellik purred, setting Davari down on the ground between Krissa's legs. The young elf girl did as she was told, spreading her legs to allow the little purple dragon to do whatever it was that he wanted to do. Krissa moaned loudly as her mistress used hir fingers to spread the elf's soft pink lips apart, her cunt now wide open. "Go on in, little one," Mellik cooed to the pseudodragon. "Your new den is ready and waiting." The tiny dragon purred happily, nuzzling Krissa's sex, coating himself in her juices. The feeling of smooth scales rubbing against her drew a moan from the elf. "Inside me?" she asked, her voice quiet and thick. "Yes, my pet. He's going to crawl inside of you, for a short time you're going to be his nest. The first purpose of a Jeyarr's familiar is to provide her with her first clutch of eggs." the Sire Jeyarr explained. Despite her detached state, Krissa began to whimper. Her arms and legs twitched a little bit as she tried to struggle, but the need to obey her mistress kept her in place. Even disconnected from her true feelings, Krissa knew that this was something she didn't want. The elf gritted her teeth, trying to summon up the strength to break her mistress' hold on her. The techniques were right there! They were within her reach in her mind, all the special attacks and powers she'd gained from her Slayer training. But try as she might, she couldn't grasp a hold of any of them! She couldn't draw forth the magical energy to fuel them. With a flash of insight, she knew why. A Slayer's link to her power was through her familiar. Krissa looked down at the tiny purple dragon, she moaned as he began to crawl into her, the tiny ridges on the back of his neck stimulating her so wonderfully. Well, it wouldn't be so bad, having him inside of her for just a little while. As soon as he got settled down, Krissa was sure he'd let her draw out the power to save herself from the beautiful dragoness that was doing all these wonderful things to her. Krissa bit her tongue, mentally correcting herself. The Jeyarr was NOT beautiful; she was a horrible dragon-fucking traitor to the Slayer cause! And though Krissa was half enjoying some of the things that had happened to her, she knew that she couldn't accept them, that she couldn't give up or and give in. Her purpose was to hunt these creatures, to keep her people safe from the very things that the dragoness was doing to her. She was NOT a pleasure pet! She would NOT allow herself to become nothing more then a sex-hungry egg-laying machine. All rebellious thoughts melted away, however, the moment the little dragon's forelegs entered her. Those tiny claws tickled her so deliciously, sending shivers through her body. As her familiar wriggled from side to side, pulling more and more of himself inside of her, Krissa felt like she was going to melt with the intense heat of pleasure that filled her. She suddenly found herself in her mistress' arms, looking up into Mellik's blue-green-gold eyes. "Feels nice, doesn't it? I'm glad you've accepted him; that you've stopped your struggles. You want him inside you now, don't you?" the brown-scaled dragoness purred. Krissa could only nod in reply. She couldn't lie to her mistress, but she didn't have to give her the reason why either. Krissa smiled up at her mistress, the moment the pseudodragon was inside of her, she'd draw out her strength, and run her mindblade throw the hermaphrodite bitch's heart. "Good girl," Mellik purred, "Very good girl." The dragoness' lips met hir pet's own. Though she didn't want anything to do with the dragoness, Krissa opened her mouth, allowing the probing forked tongue inside. There was no way she could fight this, so why not make the most of something she had to do? The elf wrapped her arms around the dragon's neck, pulling hir in closer, enjoying the soft sparks of pleasure the contact with Mellik's scales brought her. She felt the dragoness' hand moving down her belly, hir thumb sliding over the elf's clitty, before scooping up Davari's hindquarters, gently pushing the little dragon in deeper. If her mouth and throat hadn't been so full of dragon-tongue, Krissa would have howled with the pleasure the act brought her. The more of the tiny dragon that was inside of her, the better she felt and the clearer her mind became. She felt the little reptile's head pressing against the entrance to her womb, and then parting it with very little effort. "You feel that, my dear? Feeling how easily he slides into you? You'll be open like that forever. You're no longer able to breed with your own kind; spread open like this you cannot retain their seed. You'll only be fertile with dragons and lizards, as their seed is the only kind that the pouches inside you will retain and carry to the upper portion of your womb where your eggs will grow." the Sire purred, stroking hir pet's hair. The elf lay in the dragon's arms, panting. She felt... good. Her mind felt like it was her own again. She could move her body as she wanted as well. She felt incredibly horny, but it was a distraction which she could easily avoid. With the grace typical to her kind, Krissa jumped to her feet, drawing forth the energy for the mindblade. A shimmering blue energy in the shape of a longsword appeared in her right hand. With a growl, she lashed out at the dragoness, only to have a jolt go through her arm as the mindblade struck something solid. That shouldn't have been possible, as the mindblade was pure psychic energy. No material weapon or armor would be able to stop it, but it looked like the dragoness had gripped the blade with hir bare hand. Mellik slowly got to hir feet, clicking hir tongue at the elf. "Naughty, naughty. You mustn't try to do that again, my pet," shi purred, not at all threatened by the elf. Krissa pulled the blade back, going in for another strike, only to find hir attack blocked once again, by the dragoness' own mindblade. Krissa's third strike was also easily parried. "You're just like me, dear one. We have the same powers and abilities. But I have far, far more experience. Which is why I know that in a few seconds, you're going to regret trying to attack me." Mellik continued to purr, hir amused demeanor angering Krissa. The elf snarled and lashed out, the dragoness made no effort to block the blade. There was simply no need, for the energy blade vanished halfway through the swing. That didn't finish either. The elf's eyes widened and she staggered forward, losing her footing and falling into the dragoness' arms as a powerful orgasm shook her body. The feelings of arousal that had been stirred in Krissa from her bonding into a Jeyarr were nothing compared to the burning need she felt. "Please... fuck me..." she whimpered, clinging to the dragoness. Mellik chuckled and stroked hir pet's hair. "No dear, I don't think so. You've been a bad girl, and you're going to learn what happens to Jeyarr that misbehave." "Please Mistress," the elf begged. "My body feels like it's on fire!" "You're not on fire, dear. You're just changing. This is why we love strong, vibrant, powerful Jeyarr. The more you resist, the more you fight, the more you struggle, the better suited you'll be for your role. The more you try to escape, try to hurt your mistress, try to resist mating, try to avoid your duties as a Jeyarr, the more powerful you become. The more powerful you become, the more powerful your offspring are. By struggling, by fighting, by resisting us, you simply make yourself all the more valuable to our cause." Krissa moaned and writhed, rubbing her needful body against her mistress' scaled form, but the tingles of pleasure she got from it weren't enough to quench the white hot urge to be fucked, to be filled with draconic seed. The burning seemed to concentrate in one place, along her lower back and rump. The elf sighed with relief as Mellik began to rub that spot. The need to be filled was still there, but the painful burning feelings in her flesh and bones suddenly became a cool, comforting sensation. All of a sudden the sweet coolness became a sweet pleasure, the dragoness' touch along her back felt much like it would if Mellik where fingering hir pet's pussy. The former Slayer pressed back against her mistress' touch, moaning happily. She felt an orgasm building in her body, centered not on her sex, but on a point at the base of her spine, right above her rump. "Now you're going to see why you shouldn't have resisted, my sweet little pet," Mellik said with a mocking chuckle. Hir stroking began to focus on the precise point that gave Krissa the most pleasure. The elf moaned and bucked, doing her best to press back against her mistress' handpaw and give herself the most pleasure. With a growl that would have startled Krissa with its sound if she hadn't been focused entirely on her pleasure, the elf climaxed. She felt herself cumming, from both her cunt and from the strange erogenous zone on her back. She felt a wet stickiness dribbling onto her legs, and somewhere else. It was odd, like feeling something that hadn't been there a moment ago. As Krissa looked back, she saw that it had been just that. Her eyes widened in horror as she stared at the new addition to her body; a thin serpentine tail that swayed back and forth gently. It lacked any sort of draconic adornments and was covered in a thick navy blue slime. "The more you disobey, the more like a dragon you become in body. Scales and horns grow in over time, and are signs of how long you've been Jeyarr and how fruitful you've been. The more you mate, the quicker you grow horns and spines. The more eggs you lay, the faster you grow scales. The more you mate with a single dragon, the more you grow to look like that dragon." "If you had decided to be a good, sweet, loving Jeyarr, you would have stayed much as you were. You might not have changed beyond the addition of a few small scales and the addition of a pair of horns for several years. A dragon shares hir Jeyarr with other dragons if the pet knows how to behave. But you decided to be a bad girl and tried to hurt your mistress. So not only are you being changed now as punishment, but I won't let you play with other dragons, so you're going to be mating with me almost exclusively. You're going to be changing very, very fast, dear one. It won't be long before no one from your old life will be able to recognize you. In fact I think it will only be a few minutes." Krissa cried out, sobbing as the burning ache returned. A pain over her entire body fused with the need to mate. "Please Mistress, I'm sorry!" the elf moaned, "Please, I'll obey! Just make it stop!" Mellik just shook hir head. "Oh my dear, I wish it were that easy. If you disobey me, I have to punish you. If you misbehave to a large degree, energy builds up and causes you pain. In order to make your hurting stop, a dragon has to guide the energy, using it to shape your body. If I didn't, it would continue to hurt before it dispersed itself randomly after a few days. At first such a thing wouldn't cause any problems, but if it happened too often, you would begin to lose your shape, becoming an oozing ball of scales, fangs, claws, and horns. And of course neither of us wants that to happen. Now, I'm not a cruel mistress, Krissa, I'll let you tell me where you want to be changed, pardon, where you'd prefer your changes take place. Since I'm quite sure you don't want any of them." "Wings." the elf whispered, "Give me wings." With those words Krissa's body was wracked with a sob, as in that moment she had truly become Krissa. She found that the name she'd been given by her parents had been stricken entirely from her memory. She was a Jeyarr now, no longer a Slayer, and there was nothing she could do about it. Tears leaked from her eyes as she succumbed to the pleasure of her transformation. She didn't let the pain come back, naming off the next portion of her body to be changed before each climax that brought the alteration of that body part. Krissa tried to let herself be consumed by the pleasurable sensation each change brought, but it brought no relief to the accusations she directed towards herself in her mind. She should have fought back earlier, before she was trapped like this. She had had the opportunity; all she had needed was the drive to free herself. There had been a few moments of clarity in her mind after each climax she had been given during the bonding. She should have experimented, should have pleasured herself to clear the fog from her mind so that she could have struck at the dragoness while she slept. The elf was now as much of a traitor to the Slayer cause as Mistress. She would be slain on sight by those who had been her friends just as they would slay any other dragon. The eruption of her wings from her back brought a few moments of blissful void, her climax driving away her rational mind for a moment as purest pleasure overwhelmed her. She chose her legs next. Krissa began to emit a low, draconic purr as Mistress began to massage her calves, her forked tongue darting out to playfully tickle Krissa's toes. The Jeyarr's purring grew louder; it felt more pleasurable to have something altered then something added. She felt her leg muscles shift, growing here, shrinking there, lengthening in other places, and thickening almost all over. There were tiny pops that signaled the shifting of bone into a new configuration. Her self-loathing began to fade as she saw her body changing. It felt good to be changed, to have Mistress caressing her body lovingly. Though a part of her hated herself for letting this happen, she found there was a part of herself that wanted this, and had always wanted it. A part of her that had always been fascinated with the draconic form, found it beautiful. It was the part of her that spoke up when she had found those dragon eggs, told her to leave them be. It was the part of her that had her crying for days afterwards, sorry over what she had done. It was the part of her that had embodied the true spirit of what she was supposed to be. The Slayer rituals were as Mistress had said: something taken and used for a purpose that which it wasn't intended. She had undergone all the training and ritual enhancement under her own free will. This was the end result of the path that she had chosen for herself. The true result. The one that was meant to be. Her tears were no longer of sorrow. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to continue to be a Slayer. Killing enough dragons to have the marks on her body that some of the elders had. How could she live with herself after causing so much pain and death? No, this was the right path. This was what she had always wanted deep down. Not to destroy dragons, but to love them. To snuggle with them. To defend them. It had felt wrong to rid the world of the beauty that dragons brought with their bright colors and shiny scales. Krissa wanted to be a dragon now, wanted to be like Mistress, becoming a powerful, beautiful, scaled creature. Krissa roared as her body was filled with her third transformative climax, her legs shifting into a beautiful digitigrade configuration. Each foot was now tipped with three clawed toes, a fourth on the back to allow her to perch and provide a small amount of manipulation ability. The elf felt the power of change spreading to other areas of her body: her wings and tail growing larger, the nails of her hands becoming claws, her canine teeth becoming fangs. "My face, Mistress," Krissa purred, leaning up to kiss the elder dragoness. She wanted to be seen as a dragon, not as an elven Jeyarr. She was surprised to find out how easy it had been to say those words, to give her consent to having the most recognizable aspect of herself changed. It felt good to let her old life go, to let her old self go. Krissa felt free. She didn't have to hide anymore. She didn't have to hide her fascination with dragons, didn't have to keep the revulsion she had always felt towards the senseless slaughter of thinking beings. Many dragons were thinking, speaking, and feeling creatures. It had always felt wrong to Krissa that they were killed just because they were dragons. She had always hoped she would be able to find a dragon to talk to, to be friends with, though she knew she'd have had to have kept the friendship hidden for her entire life. But now? Now she didn't have to hide anything. Here she was, snuggled up with Mistress. Mistress was a dragon, a beautiful, sexy, loving dragon that would take care of Krissa, that would snuggle up with her, play with her, pleasure her, teach her all about dragons. The new Jeyarr mmmed happily as her forked tongue entwined around Mistress' own. A shiver ran through her body as her head and neck reshaped themselves, taking on a more draconic form, even more so then Mistress. The two dragons reluctantly broke their kiss, allowing Krissa to speak. "Mistress, I've never seen dragons in anything but picture books before. I want to be a beautiful dragon, and you've seen and mated with so many. I'd like to be pretty for you, Mistress. I'd like you to decide what else to change on me, and how it looks," the elven Jeyarr purred. Mellik smiled, caressing hir pet's breasts. "Mmm... good girl, Krissa. Very good girl. You're learning to be a wonderful Jeyarr already. I'm almost sorry that you've accepted this so eagerly. I was looking forward to doing this more then once." Krissa chuckled, "Mistress, I'm going to be a bad girl sometimes, just so I can feel good when you change me. I'll misbehave whenever you want me to." "Though it kind of defeats the purpose, pet," Mellik said with a chuckle of hir own. Krissa watched in fascination as her tiny elven breasts grew, growing to a size to house large amounts of milk for her hatchlings. Mmm... having her breasts changed felt even better. Krissa couldn't wait until Mistress made her into a herm, like hirself. She was sure that pleasure would be even greater. For both, the experience of Krissa's reshaping was over far too soon. Krissa enjoyed the intimacy and pleasure, as well as the sense of helplessness it gave her. Mistress could warp her body into a way that would leave the former elf disfigured if shi so desired, she could take away Krissa's arms or legs, or eyes and ears. But Krissa knew Mistress would never be mean like that. But the remote possibility still gave her a thrill. Mellik, on the other hand, enjoyed the feeling of power shi got from corrupting a Slayer. Shi liked transforming the former elf into a form more and more unlike her natural state. Shi was aroused by the control shi had over hir pet, especially now that it had been given freely. Krissa wanted to be shaped according to Mellik's ideals of draconic beauty. There wasn't enough power left for all the ideas the dragoness had, but it was enough for the basics. A thickening of the tail from an afterthought on the humanoid form, to a muscular limb that would look at home on an alligator with the twin rows of scutes that Mellik had added atop it, and all the way up her pet's back. She had enhanced the size of Krissa's wings, allowing her to fly, and eventually to allow her to carry Mellik in flight as the smaller Jeyarr grew. Shi had also added a second pair of wings to the former elf's back. It was something she had seen on a few dragons before, dragons she had only mated with a single time, but the image stuck. Mellik thought it made Krissa look even cuter. After that, there had only been a little bit of energy left over. It was just enough for what Mellik wanted. Shi smiled down at hir pet, rolling her onto her belly then sinking hir cock into the smaller dragoness' sopping wet sex, drawing a pleasured gasp from Krissa. "There's just a little bit of energy left, dear. And I know what I'm going to use it for. I'm going to make you climax like you've never even dreamed possible. With this pleasure, I also give you a gift, your first mating as a dragon." "This won't hurt Davari, will it?" the former elf asked, a little concerned for her familiar. "Sweetie, Davari doesn't have a physical form at the moment. When you drew on his energy while he was inside of you, he became a part of you. But don't worry, you didn't hurt him. It's a part of his life cycle. He's going to be reborn as the first of your hatchlings. His fusion with you is what has gifted you with a dragon's womb, and your first eggs. Now just relax, and let your Mistress fill you with baby dragons." Mellik purred, pulling Krissa to hir. The younger Jeyarr relaxed now that she knew her companion was safe. She mmmed softly as Mistress began to caress her breasts. The two kissed, both loving the sensation of the other's tongue curled around their own. Krissa's cervix gave only token resistance, being pierced by a dragon for the third time. The Jeyarr delighted in the waves of pleasure the dragon's cock gave her as the back-facing points of the spade-shaped tip tugged on her insides. It had hurt the first time, but a night spent with Mistress's cock lodged deep inside her as they bonded had made her body adapt. Krissa's sudden yelp was muted by the kiss as the erotic feeling of change filled her once again. It felt heavenly, doubling, tripling the pleasure she felt from each of the dragoness' thrusts. The former elf moaned softly as Mistress's handpaw crept down her body, stroking her clitty. The merest touch to the little button sent shivers of hot pleasure flowing through Krissa's body. The rapid rubbing made Krissa feel like she was nothing more then a white hot fire of pleasure, no other sensation existing. With Mistress's cock inside of her, the first drips of precum had set Krissa off, bringing her body into a state of enhanced pleasure, desire, and obedience. Coherent thought was beyond her now; all that remained was the animal desire to mate, to be filled with seed. In a few moments, it felt like her entire being was being bombarded by tiny orgasms, each part of her gradually erupting in climax, burning hotter and hotter until her entire existence was a heat of pleasure beyond even white. She had no concept of time, it felt like only a moment, and it felt like forever before four small points of coolness appeared in the colorless mists of ecstasy, drawing her back to reality and the sticky wetness that covered hir tummy. Hir. Mmm, so that was what Mistress had in store. "Oh Mistress, that was... mmm... perfect. And thank you." the young Jeyarr purred happily, reaching down with a handpaw to feel hir new maleness. "I can't wait to pleasure you with it." "Then just let me relax enough to pull out, my pet, and you won't have to." Mellik said. Mistress and pet locked in a kiss once again.

Blazy was having a pretty good day already when she accidentally tripped on something and ended up nearly flattening her face against the ground, saved only by her masterful reflexes (and a hefty dose of luck). Sensing danger, she performed a series of incredibly poorly-coordinated flips, before finally slamming into her tail, performing a backwards spin and landing flat on her back onto the ground. Despite this, she still somehow found it within her to utter “Nailed it” before getting back up, scanning her surroundings for any signs of danger; instead, what she saw was… a bag. It was a backpack of sorts, looking about as old as something that ended up in the middle of woods, fittingly enough. Deep gashes and cuts lined its surface, while the colouring had all-but faded away, leaving behind gray flakes and the rough cloth beneath. Sensing an opportunity to investigate, the Typhlosion poked her muzzle into it, finding the backpack to be remarkably devoid of anything interesting at all… apart from a single bag of candy. She’d heard about those things on her occasional detours into the nearby village; they were supposed to empower Pokémon like her, giving them extra abilities and building on the ones they already had. Trainers would often feed their favourites in order to skip on the training process, and every once in a while Blazy had the rare opportunity to catch glimpses of those trusted few who were given a taste. They were universally… well, she was a very sexually active woman, and even those others made her blush just at the sight of them. Oddly enough, despite being inside the rattiest-looking backpack she’d ever laid eyes on, the candy itself was still perfectly contained in a pristine-looking wrapper; in fact, it might very well have just been taken from a storefront from how good it looked, leaving Blazy incredibly confused as to how exactly it ended up there, in the middle of a barely-traversed forest. Not confused enough that she didn’t immediately unwrap it to give a try, of course; she was nothing if not curious, and given what those candies were promising her, it was hard not to fantasize about the possibilities! Unfortunately though, nothing seemed to happen at all, leaving the Typhlosion to look at herself and feel more disappointed than that one time she failed to produce a flame at the local fair and missed out on the grand prize; it was even worse given the build-up to those candies in the first place, and if it weren’t for her holding out for a miracle, Blazy might very well have just thrown those things away the second she had a chance. Instead, she kept the wrapper in her hand, perhaps hoping that something interesting would happen if she just waited long enough. Not that it did, but at that point she kept holding onto it anyway by sheer force of habit, not even thinking about why her hand was clenched or slowly growing numb. Blazy decided to turn around and head for the center of town after circling back and taking the backpack; maybe, she thought to herself, she’d find whoever owned it and receive a reward for it, perhaps a pat on the head or something a bit more intimate if the person it belonged to was of legal age and sufficiently hunky. Thoughts like those entertained the Typhlosion as she made her way through the trees, happily singing in a low tone and completely missing how her body was gradually being warped into something more resembling her dream version of herself. It began slowly enough, with her bust expanding just enough that it began to tug at her back, leaving Blazy to groan slightly every few minutes and complain about how she needed to work out more; it wasn’t too much of an addition, and even when the effects began to peter out, she was barely even twice as large as she had been before, with an accompanying set of changes to her thickened thighs and meatier ass. It was enough for anyone who knew her to notice, but apparently not for Blazy herself, whose eyes caught the changes multiple times before she cleared the treeline; only when she took the time to clean the leaves and dirt off of herself did the Typhlosion realize something was wrong, and even then it took her physically inspecting her new curves. With one hand, she held the bottom part of one of her breasts and lifted it, feeling the increased weight and mentally working out whether or not she was just imagining it. With another, her fingers traced her flared hips before landing on a pair of thighs that just begged to be squeezed, sinking into her doughly flesh and drawing a prolonged, rumbling moan from her throat. What had happened to her? When did it happen to her? At what point did her body decide to take a turn for the well-endowed when she wasn’t paying attention? It’s not like she wasn’t already quite large to begin with; after all, Blazy wasn’t well known around those parts for her battle prowess. But at no point was she… that big. Which could only mean one thing! She looked down at her hand, the one holding onto the not-so-pristine bag of candies, and felt it shake as she dropped the backpack by her side. Carefully, Blazy unwrapped it further, producing not one but two pieces of the concentrated growth substance, and hastily shoved them into her mouth, almost as if she were afraid the effects might not take hold if she hesitated. Now in full view of anyone who walked into town via the forest trail, the Typhlosion was nonetheless rooted to her spot, unable to move as her legs were simply shaking too much in anticipation; would she double up again, or go further still? Would her body grow outwards in order to compensate? All questions that would soon be answered when Blazy felt an unfamiliar warmth build up inside of her, expanding outwards at an alarming pace; she was used to dealing with fire, but that was something completely new, a blaze that threatened to overtake her and melt her insides into slag! She began to panic, even going so far as to drop her candies, before seriously considering whether to try and spit those things back out… until she felt it. Or, rather, saw it first, then had it slam into her at full force. Her breasts, already engorged from the previous intake, were bloating again, except that time at a much faster, much more noticeable rate. Pounds were being added to them with every other second, their pull on her back growing stronger with each cup size she blazed through; soon enough, it wasn’t even worth it to judge their size based on those measurements, because no human bra would ever be able to contain those sweater puppies, especially not given they were still growing! Blazy was forced to look as her bust expanded to cover more and more of her chest, all while her lower half competed for her attention as well; it wasn’t just her tits trying to hog every bit of space around her, as the Typhlosion’s ass was rising like bread in an oven as well, soft, pudgy flesh that overflowed from her fingers when she made the mistake of grabbing her cheeks, rising upwards at a quicker and quicker pace, all while the extra, excedent mass was forced down into her hips and thighs, evening out the colossal pair of mammaries shifting her center of gravity further above. Fortunately, Blazy didn’t need to worry about developing into an exaggerated hourglass; not only were her more sexual attributes being fattened up, but her belly too was given just the right amount of padding to even her out properly. Not truly fat, but not really average either, just enough that those who would be so inclined could sink their hands into it too, providing a perfect capstone for the edifice of jiggling fullness that was her body; within a couple of short minutes, the transformation was over, and the Typhlosion could barely even recognize herself. In fact, she doubted anyone at all would be able to tell who she was, even with her face on full display; one look would be all that was needed for her new audience to stare dumbfounded at her, wondering just what had happened to Blazy, and who that overengorged beauty that had replaced her was. She smiled, loving the idea of herself even more than she did her real body, and given how much the latter was making her moan just by thinking about it, one should probably be terrified of the implications. Blazy looked down at the candy wrapper, noticing with a not-insignificant amount of unhinged joy that it was still mostly full; whoever had brought that bag into the forest clearly wanted someone like her to find it, if they had left something so valuable inside of something as crappy-looking as that backpack. And if that was the case, then clearly that hypothetical person wanted her to head into town and flaunt herself in front of everyone, only to then take the rest of the candies and let fate decide whatever happened next. It was a nonsensical belief with no evidence to back it up, but Blazy chose to accept it as fact, mostly because it gave her a reason to rationalize away her innate desire to show off. Now, walking with her new assets was something else entirely. The candies might’ve given her the body of her dreams, but they didn’t teach her how to move it from place to place; each step made her bust slap heavily against her torso, straining her ability to breathe properly, while her legs had fattened up so considerably that she literally could not walk without them rubbing against one another (and other, more sensitive body parts), while the constant clapping of her asscheeks made for an immensely overwhelming distraction that made it hard for her to focus on keeping one foot in front of another. Not that it really mattered, seeing as her tits were probably big enough to cushion whatever fall she took, and slipping would be similarly addressed by the beanbags she had attached to her backside; just thinking about it was enough to get her all hot and bothered, and if not for the fact she was surrounded by very flammable trees on every side, Blazy would have already vented her arousal with a large discharge of flame all around them. Instead, she strutted into town without a care in the world, putting on the smuggest smile she could find within herself as every pair of eyes within half a mile were immediately drawn to her. Passers-by, picnic-goers and the assorted weekenders enjoying an extended, three day vacation from work were all having the time of their lives eating homemade sandwiches and flying kites and doing all sorts of activities that humans liked to do; Blazy never quite understood most of it, but she did know that they very much liked to see large, disproportionate assets on one another’s bodies, and while families might very well shy away from her and demand she cover up, a significant amount of young (and not so young) adults were struck dumbfounded at the sight of a body as gorgeous and alluring as hers. They were probably hoping for a good day away from the hustle and bustle of corporate life, or whatever it was they did, and instead had a Typhlosion with tits big enough to cover everything down to her knees and an ass to match walking down the main road towards the local gym, looking as if that was the most natural thing in the world. By the time she walked in, there was already a throng of potential suitors following her every step. The double doors opened wide for the Typhlosion, who walked in acting like she owned the place. The many employees on break, sensing another challenger, were quick to take up positions, only to have their jaws fly open at the spectacle they were seeing before them whenever Blazy walked up and hip-checked them onto the ground. The gym was dedicated to fire-types like her, and every once in a long while she had the opportunity to lick her lips in delight at the gym leader’s prized Arcanine, a very hunky piece of man-meat that she had always fantasized about jumping at the slightest convenience. She did once try to get him to go out with her, but he replied with a long-winded speech about workplace obligations and always needing to be ready in case a trainer showed up; now though, now that Blazy looked like that, he’d have to take her seriously! At least the gym leader certainly acted like that was true; poor guy could barely put sentences together once he saw the Typhlosion round the corner, probably expecting a teenager with more courage than sense, and instead received a (literally) hot piece of ass that immediately threw herself at him without a single ounce of shame. The man was in his early thirties, his tan skin showing the marks of a lifetime mastering the relationship between human and fire-types: burns, scars, even patches of skin that had obviously been grafted on, he wore all of it with a pride and dignity that only a true warrior ever could. There was no vulnerability in that beaten body; where others would grow weaker at such a constant assault on their physical form, the gym leader merely grew bolder, looking forward to the next challenge while scoffing at the notion that he should impose any limits on himself. Blazy had to admire that, it took a real trainer to go to those lengths; such a shame that the kind of physical conditioning that led to such a magnificent body often failed to take into account other types of attack, and thus the man was left powerless to defend himself against a pair of breasts as big as his entire torso, offering no resistance when he was thrown back onto the ground. “I’d like to have a chat with Arani, if you wouldn’t mind,” Blazy crooned, referring to the hunky Arcanine, “I’ve been having a bit of a craving, and I feel like he’d be the one to help me with that~” Under normal circumstances, the gym leader would’ve immediately said no. Unfortunately for him, and very fortunately for Blazy, the trainer was stuck underneath a bust that had pinned him down completely and made it difficult to even breathe, let alone try to wriggle out; the more he tried, somehow, the more he trapped himself, leading to a vicious cycle that only ended when he stopped, sighed and acquiesced. With a series of uncomfortable-looking movements, he removed the right Pokéball from his belt and rolled it onto the ground; with the characteristic pop, it cracked open and revealed the swirl of energy that materialized into something that even Blazy blushed at. If it weren’t for her own body being something that most people would go weak-kneed at the sight of, as well as the confidence boost that came with it, the Typhlosion would most likely have done several, very unflattering and undignified things after seeing the Arcanine emerge from within his miniaturized container; to say that hunky beast was ripped would be like saying the planet was big, in that in the time it took to appreciate just how big it was, the realization itself would consume you into its warm, soft, fuzzy embrace and shower you with compliments over how good you looked. Not the best of metaphors, but then again, Blazy was finally the one being smothered for once, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Contrary to what she had expected, the fire-type canine took an immediate shine to her, presumably because he was fully aware of what happened to his trainer and thus understood who exactly was in charge there. There were no talks of missed deadlines or needing to constantly be on call, just a great amount of warmth and soft floof everywhere Blazy looked, rubbing her head against the beefy Arcanine’s mane while he told her a lot of things that made her blush quite heavily, even more so than she was already. By the time he was done, gently placing her on the ground and taking a few steps back to fully appreciate her body, that hunk was very obviously rearing to go, with his package on full display and the most predatory shine in his eyes; and yet, despite this obvious eagerness, he refrained from truly pouncing on his would-be lover, instead quivering where he stood as he apparently waited for the order to move forward. Blazy liked this. The sense of control and dominance was something she had been seeking for years, that singular moment where she knew she had someone like that Arcanine in the palm of her hand; it was almost better than the idea of just how hard he would rail her against a wall… almost. She still fully intended to exploit the obvious arousal for all that it was worth, but if the fire-type was so insistent on being treated like a toy, to put himself at her beck and call, it almost seemed criminal to waste such a wonderful gift. After all, when else would she have such an alluring piece of gorgeous canid muscle wrapped around her finger like that, ready to satisfy all of her whims and desires at the snap of her fingers? The thought alone was enough to make her legs shake, and she was the one supposedly in charge! Something fell beside her, a small object that barely made a sound when it hit the ground. Blazy only noticed when her knuckles began to tingle, courtesy of the grip she held on the packet of rare candies vanishing just as easily as her inhibitions did; the Arcanine in front of her momentarily looked down, alerting her to the existence of the very things that grew her out to the state she was in, and suddenly the puzzle pieces began to fall back into place. The Typhlosion had been caught so off-guard by the sudden onslaught of hitherto-unfelt emotions and desires that her conscious mind had been switched off and left on autopilot, replaced by raw instinct and a surprisingly strong desire to fuck the nearest consenting creature (which just so happened to be a seven-foot-tall Arca-hunk with muscles for days), leading to her genuinely forgetting that she still had most of the candies left in the wrapper. The thought rang strongly inside of her, filling her mind with promises of growth and size like no other, telling her that she could take her current form and make it so much better, so much more grandiose… if only she dared to eat the rest of treats. How exactly she went from fawning over her potential mate to going back to fantasizing about bigger tits was anyone’s guess but her own; to Blazy, it was just the natural order of things for her to obsess over growing larger, because that’s just what she… did. It’s what she had been doing all of those times she gazed upon other Pokémon who had been gifted those candies and fantasized about how great it would be if she was in their place instead, how amazing it would be if she had breasts that protruded several feet in every direction and hips that could get stuck in doors. Now that she had those things, it felt as if nothing else could really compare; the trip to the gym had just been her old self trying to impose its sense of normalcy onto her new life, not realizing that things could be so much more than just riding that Arcanine’s cock until it was dry, even if it was a magnificently large rod that could possibly fill her up so much she’d look pregnant by the end of it. A wondrous prospect, but still nothing compared to what she knew her apex would be like. The Arcanine, meanwhile, was clearly worried about the fact Blazy had seemingly stopped functioning the moment her head turned to the wrapper of candies, all of her muscles tensing up as her body froze, even blinking halted; her eyes watered the longer they stared at that collection of tiny treats, enraptured by their spell, and before long one of her hands began to move of its own accord. Blazy was a passenger aboard her own body, the latter of which had just been hijacked by her primal need to grow larger and more voluptuous; not that she minded, that’s exactly what her higher-order consciousness wanted as well, it’d just be nice if she were the one to make that decision. Instead, the Typhlosion got to observe as her arms moved to put her hands in place, to unwrap the rest of the candies and carefully place them on her palm; there were about ten of them, just big enough that she could fit all of them in her mouth if she truly tried. Off to her side, the Arcanine was begging her not to take them, while his trainer, still reeling from being buried in boob, mumbled something about “unpredictable results” and Blazy putting herself in danger if she tried to do something stupid like eat all of those things without giving her body the proper time to rest. She didn’t care; this was her destiny. With a single, fluid motion, the curvaceous Typhlosion threw the remaining treats into the air, getting a few seconds to observe as they arced upwards and then straight down into her open mouth, tongue catching a couple that insisted on falling off-target; within seconds, Blazy was chewing down on their sweet, caramel-like goodness, already feeling their juices pouring down her throat and filling her body with the same wonderful warmth as before. There would be no stopping her now; nothing would stand in her way, be it others like her or silly things like walls and roofs. The Arca-hunk and his human stood there, staring at her in abject horror, all while their growing erections betrayed how much they were enjoying the show to its fullest; Blazy, being only vaguely aware of this through her haze of growth-lust, fired a wink at them before closing her eyes, waiting for when the impact would come. Three seconds. She counted them, hoping for something on that timescale, and nearly doubled over once everything pounded against her from the inside out. She was being filled, of that she was certain, and it felt like her body was too small to accommodate everything that she was going to be, like there was a true Blazy hidden beneath her skin, struggling to get out, desperate for extra space. Her physical form was no longer enough to hold her, and if nothing was done about that, the Typhlosion might just burst! Panic struck her as hard as her growth spurt did, and for a few horrible seconds, Blazy genuinely believed she’d just made a terrible mistake; of course her body wasn’t ready, how could she expect it to contain perfection? She had signed her death warrant and wasn’t even aware of it, which just made what happened afterwards as relieving as it was surprising. Clearly, her body decided that it was too small to contain her new form as well, because it didn’t just make her bust larger or hips wider; instead, everything began to expand outwards, leaving the Typhlosion as tall as her prospective Arca-lover in just a few seconds, with her head hitting the ceiling just a few moments after that. Blazy barely had enough time to realize she was growing bigger before her shoulders were breaking through the roof, dragging half a ton of building materials in the form of rubble as she emerged into the sunlit outdoors, unable to control her window-shaking, glass-shattering roaring. It was too much for her, it had to come out; the sudden surge of power was so great that it felt like it wasn’t enough; what she was feeling inside of her was so incomprehensibly vast that no amount of flaunting would ever be able to even scratch the surface of it… and that left her feeling somehow both more anxious than ever and more sexually charged than she had ever felt before. The rest of the gym’s roof was cleanly ripped off once the transformation dragged the rest of her up towards the sky, the candies working on overdrive to make her taller than any other building in town, large enough that everyone living in it would be able to see her; hell, judging by how much of the woods she herself could see, it wouldn’t surprise her if every other settlement for several miles could get a good look at her burgeoning frame, especially considering it wasn’t even done growing yet! Amazingly, her proportions remained the same as they had been before her overdose, leaving her with a bust so immeasurably gigantic that it cast a shadow all the way over to the forest trail she had come from before, with every picnic-goer now having to contend with the sun being blocked by a pair of tits unlike any other on the planet. All of this while her ass rippled and jiggled uncontrollably, aided by Blazy occasionally slapping it to give both herself and everyone around her a good show. The air was cold up there near the clouds, enough that every breath created a cloud thanks to the roaring furnace inside of her body. The Typhlosion couldn’t even make out any of the people underneath her; they were just too tiny for her to make out, melting together into one large, colourful smudge that only seemed to grow larger by the minute. Everyone was joining in, bringing their Pokémon with them as well, eager to see just what exactly was going on, even as it became obvious that they could admire their new giantess from just about anywhere in town. Blazy herself wished they didn’t crowd around her feet so much; her control over her own body was dubious at best, and given how much she desperately needed to get some release, there was a non-zero chance some of those folks might end up drowning. Thankfully, the growth spurt ended before things took a turn for the oddly macabre, leaving Blazy on the cusp on losing her mind, but with just enough footing in reality to prevent a full-scale meltdown. She had trouble breathing, and not just because of the physical strain of becoming a mini-goddess like that; the pair of lungs in her chest were so titanic that the poor thing didn’t really know how to fill them properly, and thus ended up taking breaths that were too short. It took them a bit before finding a new rhythm, at which point her head became covered in mist thanks to condensation; it made for a funny sight, and a convenient excuse for Blazy to bring her head down closer to the ground. Amazingly, rather than finding a crowd that was dumbstruck by the appearance of a giantess in the middle of their town, or utterly terrified at the prospect of being squished underneath their heel, Blazy instead got to hear as all of the tiny ones called up to her in celebratory tones, shouting her name and congratulating the Typhlosion on her achievement. It was as if she’d just finished a marathon and was now surrounded by a victorious crowd shouting at the top of their voices about first place… and honestly, she was touched, so much so that Blazy had to bring both hands to her mouth while biting back a few happy tears. Never in a million years could she have expected the people there to accept her so quickly, and yet there they were, encouraging her to cut loose even more and enjoy herself, so long as she kept the buildings intact; even the Arcanine had joined in, promising to work extra hard so he could “satisfy” her when it came down to it. A goofy proposal, but she had to appreciate the thought behind it. After working her way through the gratitude-induced sobbing, Blazy took stock of her situation: she was taller than everything around her, a good three hundred feet in height if not more so. Moving from place to place guaranteed that something would break, and the forest was no longer capable of supporting her; in fact, it was doubtful if anything at all could do that, making the issue of food a rather worrying one. And yet, regardless of how much she tried to concern herself with such matters, her mind kept being dragged away by something: the cheers, the shouts of excitement, the celebrations down below where folks were dancing around their new titan and singing praises unto her. It wasn’t what she had been looking for, but Blazy couldn’t deny it felt good to be that wanted… and accepted. Why was she worrying so much about how many nuts she could gather or what amount of roots were needed to keep that body of hers running? She had a new home now, one filled with people that could help her get whatever she needed; just as long as she did her part in helping around town, there was no reason she shouldn’t be able to reap the benefits of being welcome in it! She smiled; it wasn’t a well-developed plan, but it was something at least, a thought for the future if nothing else. Besides, since everyone seemed intent on turning her ascension into some sort of party, it’d be insulting if she herself didn’t join in; it would take a lot of effort to get in on the dancing without completely destroying everything around her, but Blazy would manage. And if she didn’t, well… … she wasn’t going anywhere.

It was only a matter of time before things took off to a point where Sierra could no longer control herself. In between growing big enough to obscure most of the solar system and quite literally snacking on the entirety of the Earth, all the Latias could really do going forward was just get bigger and await the inevitable reset, whenever it ended up happening; it wasn’t under her control, it being Emily who decided when it took place… and seeing as Emily had been gone for parts unknown for quite a while, it was up in the air whether or not such a thing would even come to pass. Perhaps, as Sierra considered with a worried look on her face, she had just eaten her homeworld with no recourse to get it back, and rather than the playful exercise in dominance she believed it to be, it was instead a permanent death sentence to everyone involved. Or, mayhaps, she was just getting stressed out over nothing again, because Emily had vanished for days before and always came back eventually, plus Kitty didn’t seem at all bothered by anything that happened, so clearly he must know that his mate was still around. At least, this is what the titanic Latias told herself as her muscles relaxed along with her self-control, and with a loud yawn, she took another planet into her maw from somewhere around her; it was a testament to how massive she was that she literally did not even notice which one had vanished down her gullet, nor if it was rock-solid or gaseous, since, at her size, such differences mattered very little. It was a planet, it was there, and after a couple of bites, it wasn’t there anymore; her belly gained a few extra thousand miles, her hunger grew even deeper and more insatiable, and the cycle had finally begun in earnest. If her ravenous appetite had been kept under somewhat of a check beforehand and it still ended up with the consumption of planet Earth, now that Sierra had a taste of what it meant to experience divinity again, there was very little that anyone but Emily could do to stop her, and seeing as the cat was nowhere to be seen, there was no actual reason why the Latias couldn’t just treat the universe as her personal combo platter: everything from the hardest of planetoids to millions of oceans’ worth of nebulous gases, mixing together in an orgy of flavours that would make even the most enthusiastic of gourmands blush with the sheer diversity of it all. In fact, such was the breadth of experiences that Sierra felt somewhat bad for knowing that she wouldn’t properly enjoy them all; she knew herself too well, knew that once the hunger kicked in and shunted her self-restraint off to some remote corner of her mind, she wouldn’t be stopping or slowing down just to appreciate the finer taste of some cosmic formation, as much as she would just be devouring as much mass as possible in as little time as she could. She would become a machine, something designed to consume and do little else, a destructor goddess whose purpose was to renew the universe by way of getting rid of it first, through the careful application of large bites to the very fabric of reality; it was arousing in its own way, so much so that, if it weren’t for that gargantuan gut slung out in front of her, the Latias might’ve just done something far different with her hands other than shovel in more stellar mass into her ravenous maw. Then again, being able to pick up the Sun and just push it into her mouth like it was a piece of hard candy was an experience she wasn’t expecting to go through any time soon, so having it happen at her leisure was certainly a massive plus… as was the size boost she received from devouring a star, leaving her so big that the solar system well and truly ceased existing after she smashed through whatever was in her way as she ascended to occupy interstellar space. From there, it didn’t take long before the mindless hunger took over completely, with Sierra completely forgetting about how Kitty was somewhere on her body, focusing entirely on eating everything she saw instead. And, seeing as the whole universe was there for the taking, there was a lot of stuff to go through if she wanted to eat it all, leaving the Latias licking her lips at the mere thought of it all; thankfully, with her body being as reactive to weight gain as it was, the hardest step of them all was clearing the way to the nearest star, since, when she reached that point, the level of consumption would’ve reached a level high enough to kickstart a truly exponential process that even she wouldn’t be in control of. So, she opened her mouth, breathing in as hard as she could in the hopes of scouring the interstellar medium for quite literally anything that she could find, be they solitary protons or just the mess of photons blitzing around thanks to all the stars twinkling around her. She wasn’t yet big enough to be able to devour the strands of dark matter holding the universe together, which made this first stage always the most boring one, but seeing as each mouthful of sparse matter brought her just a little bit closer to Proxima Centauri, the Latias used this as a sort of motivation, telling herself that all she had to do was keep eating, keep swallowing, and she’d eventually reach her destination. It was hard to tell just how long she spent in this repetitive exercise, given that time had a tendency of passing creatures as big as Sierra by, but she was certain she’d gone through at least a couple of periods of rest by the time she opened her eyes again and the star closest to her was perched atop her muzzle… and, in the process of reaching it, her body had become so unbelievably colossal that it was just a quick jaunt over to a dozen or so other stellar systems that, at her then-current size, were little more than treats, snacks for her to chomp on once and move on. And that’s exactly what she did, treating entire stellar masses as she would dollar store candy bars, with all the level of respect (or lack thereof) they deserved; rather than the wonderment of being able to consume a star and all the planets around it, Sierra instead just turned her head, closed her mouth over a bunch of mass, then chewed it up and swallowed it down, growing even bigger in the process. This repeated itself again and again, enough times that it took barely a couple of hours before the giantess could tell the top of the galactic plane from the bottom, owing to how she had half her body above it and the other half below; as soon as this became reality, as soon as the Latias turned herself into a literally galactic-scale feature that anyone could see if they just looked down at the Milky Way, there was no other recourse for her home galaxy other than going down the proverbial drain. At a size like that, nothing could stop Sierra from opening her maw and sucking in everything around her, and nothing would be able to sate the bottomless pit that had developed inside of her stomach; she would consume every spiral arm, every nebula, every black hole (Sagittarius A* included), every star, every planet, every atom, and it still wouldn’t be enough. She would devour the very dark matter holding the galaxy together, until nothing remained of the Milky Way but a true quantum vacuum, and even that would just serve to feed her further, as the spontaneous pair formation was abused to hell and back by a Latias who really didn’t care too much about whether or not she was breaking the laws of physics; she was hungry, she wanted to feed, and thus if things existed, even if in a very tenuous, technical kind of way, then these things would throw themselves into her stomach if they knew what was good for them. One couldn’t even take solace in the fact that the universe was vast and potentially infinite, for Sierra’s hunger was such that she could eat it all and still demand seconds. There was no concern left for whether or not it was permanent, nor did the Latias even think about what Emily might think when she came back from wherever she was and suddenly realized the Earth was missing, assuming she wasn’t on it when the titanic Latias ate it of course; no, there was only hunger, and the need to try and satisfy it despite Sierra knowing full well that such a thing wasn’t at all possible. Of course, it was still a perfect excuse to do some incredibly irresponsible things, such as opening her mouth and turning it into a vacuum again, such as bloating so much that her belly alone could probably hold the entire mass of the universe in one enormously-compacted black hole, or such as outgrowing the distance between the Milky Way and Andromeda so quickly that the speed of light being the top limit for velocity ceased meaning anything. All of these things and many more were par for the course when it came to the Latias’ feeding frenzies, so much so that, after a short while, her exponential advance reached a point where she needn’t even physically eat anything anymore; her mere presence alone was such that it absorbed all of reality into it, the universe itself collapsing towards her at an ever-escalating rate as the Poké-gal’s body forced the occurrence of a Big Crunch, albeit one centered on an absolutely colossal gut rather than an infinitesimally small point of infinite density. Then again, the density of her stomach might as well be infinite for how much she felt like filling it, if that even made sense; as much as the Latias felt like seasoning her experience with some expert comparative description, she was no poet, nor was she in possession of most of her mental faculties, having been turned into naught but a near-mindless beast whose sole purpose was to consume everything around her. Kitty could perhaps try and capture the beauty of the moment, but seeing as he didn’t even know what part of Sierra he was on, this was easier said than done; as far as he knew, he was probably the sole surviving creature in the entire universe apart from the Latias he was hitching a ride on, and would be for as long as Emily allowed this to carry on… which raised the question of where his mate even was, because he didn’t remember her going away for any errands, nor ascending to the heavens any time in the close past. Could it be that she had simply stepped out for a while and was now somewhere inside of Sierra’s gut? If such was the case, how were they supposed to reset everything? Did the giant Latias even have that power, or had they accidentally ended the universe without even realizing it? All valid concerns, of course, none of which even remotely occurred to Sierra herself, who was far more worried about the fact that the amount of mass she was devouring had begun to taper out, signalling her approach to the very literal end of all reality; somehow, against all odds, she had successfully consumed everything that existed down to the smallest particle, with the few remaining wisps of matter flowing directly into her as she came to that conclusion. Even worse, rather than simply having a vast emptiness in which to exist, she was starting to feel a certain amount of pressure bearing down on her from every direction, almost as if she’d suddenly been transported into a tight plastic bag. Never having grown that big, Sierra had no idea what it was like to be at the very edge of the universe, and seeing as she was so rudely awakened from her feeding frenzy just (relative) moments earlier, she hadn’t had the time required to truly process what was going on, sending her into a slight panic for a couple of minutes as she tried desperately to make sense out of what she was experiencing. Mercifully, it ended shortly after Sierra’s blood pressure began to rise, if only because the universe had taken such a beating at that point that it really couldn’t take anything else; all it took was the Latias pushing just a little bit too much for the entire surface of the “bag” enclosing her to pop like a soap bubble, suddenly releasing her into a much wider, much freer volume… after which she immediately smashed into something that smothered her completely. Perhaps if Sierra were calmer, or if she even knew what happened after one became big enough, she might’ve correctly identified what that object was. But, terrified as she was at the time, and still reeling from the experience of nearly crushing to death inside a universe too small to contain her, the first thing she thought to do was scream, which only resulted in having her mouth be filled by something that she vaguely recalled the texture of, quickly followed by a deluge of sweet-tasting, creamy liquid: milk. Where exactly she was getting it from was anyone’s guess but hers, but the fact of the matter was that Sierra wasn’t about to say no to such a bountiful gift, even if it had literally come from nowhere; she drank greedily of whatever source she had found, right up until the point where the solid mass from which the milk was coming from began to shrink away from her… or perhaps she was simply growing big enough to be able to perceive it properly. Thoroughly convinced of this, the Latias pulled her head back, having to spend a few minutes wiping the milk off her face as it kept on gushing towards her, and when she opened her eyes, she saw them: Emily. Sierra’s first instinct was that she’d slammed onto their nipple, and had been drinking directly from the tap, but after a couple of seconds passed and her mind truly processed what she was seeing, it became obvious just how off-base that assumption was; or rather, she did slam into the cat’s nipple, but it wasn’t the bud that the Latias had in her mouth. Rather, her entire body, a body that had utterly obliterated a universe after consuming its totality of mass, accounted for maybe a thousandth of a percent of one of Emily’s areolae, with the titanic goddess’ full form being such that it was a wonder the Latias could even see any part of it at all, let alone enough of it to make those sorts of calculations. How little did she know that what she was seeing and comparing herself to wasn’t even a nipple bud either; it was a singular pore. Trying to put to words what she was thinking was something beyond Sierra’s capabilities, especially once her brain kicked into gear properly and she actually managed to comprehend what it was she was looking at. A universe devoured, goodness knows how much milk guzzled up, and yet her entire body was naught but the tiniest of specks when compared to the absolute monster of a tit that she’d smacked against; this was clearly Emily, as no one else would ever reach sizes so absurd, and yet this certainty didn’t do much to assuage the Latias’ sudden size jealousy, and in fact it was doubtful that anything really would. After such a long time figuring herself as being large, for Sierra to suddenly be shown just how miniscule she actually was… well, it hit a lot of buttons she didn’t like being pressed, and several others that left her blushing furiously at the thought of the size difference between herself and the colossal cat in front of her, differences which, as far as the “smaller” giantess cared, needed to be addressed before things got too out of hand. Thankfully, there was an easy way to do so, in that Emily didn’t seem aware that their friend had arrived on their plane of existence, or at least hadn’t really done anything about it at all, giving Sierra plenty of time to smush her face against the titanic wall of boob, open her mouth, and welcome the torrent of milk into herself again. She expected it to have some kind of effect, and indeed her body was actually getting fatter at a rate much faster than eating a literal universe had provided for her, but she might as well not be going anywhere with how little progress was made in getting close to Emily’s size; if nothing else, then at least this served to make it exceedingly obvious just how utterly outmatched the Latias was, or, alternatively, how quickly Emily herself was growing. After all, Sierra recalled having a few moments of complete freedom before smacking into a wall of boob, so could it be that she didn’t hit anything, but rather it was Emily who was still expanding at an exponentially faster rate? It was a terrifying thought, especially since it should be simple to check, it only requiring the Latias to stop drinking and observe what happened; easier said than done though, seeing as how the cream she was gulping down happened to be as addictive as it was delicious, but somehow, against all odds, that particular thirst for knowledge overpowered the more conventional one. Though Sierra knew that it would only leave her even more size-hungry, she forced herself to look anyway, knowing that in the end, it would help to motivate her to grow even bigger, if only so she could keep up with whatever Emily was doing. With equal parts awe and terror, the giantess observed as her suspicions were proven correct beyond the shadow of a doubt; though it was difficult to make out at first, given that the two gals were operating on entirely different scales, a little effort was all it took for the Latias to “tune in” and see the feline for what they were, without them fading into the very backdrop of existence… only to then immediately realize that her initial size forecast had been off by a couple of orders of magnitude to begin with. But as she kept watching, and the moments turned into seconds turned into minutes, it became clear that the pore she smacked against had outgrown her several times over, and what she was looking at was, effectively, the very edge of it, putting her own body at a size so infinitesimally small in comparison to Emily at their full glory that she might as well not even exist. This was compounded by the realization that the blackness Sierra was seeing around her wasn’t the result of her having broken free from the very confines of existence, as she had initially believed; rather, whatever light there might be out there in the interstitial medium of reality was being blocked by a single, absolutely titanic nipple that covered quite literally everything that the Latias could see, effectively being her everything for all intents and purposes. All the giant Poké-gal could think to do was float there, staring at that thing in slack-jawed awe, unable to truly comprehend just how vast it was… but still, there yet remained something within her that told her that she should be doing something else. A drive for more, a hunger for it in fact, the last remaining voice in the back of the Latias’ head that insisted on egging her on so she could fulfill her destiny; she hadn’t made it all the way there purely so she could be outmatched by Emily, she hadn’t consumed an entire universe just to end up underneath their bootheel, unable to measure up and perpetually stuck being diminutive by comparison. No, she got there to be big, and if that meant she’d have to drink so much milk as to nearly explode, then so be it; it was there, it was clearly hers to drink, so she was going to indulge in it as heavily as she possibly could, and damn the consequences! Once more her face was smushed against soft breastflesh, and once again the milk flow resumed in earnest, bulging out Sierra’s cheeks as she took in far more than she had the capacity to actually swallow. Vast quantities of it spurted from between her lips as she struggled to hold it down, but for each drop that was wasted, another one was forced down the Latias’ throat, with her insisting on consuming as much of the sweet substance as possible. And with every mouthful came a size burst that left Sierra as much larger to her moments-old self as that version of herself had been to her body back on Earth, an exponential process that was sure to leave her big enough to be able to at least see Emily, rather than just (comparatively) small parts of them. It was still an arduous process, doubly so considering the feline was growing all the while, pushing the goal out further; it wasn’t enough for Sierra to just grow, she had to do so at such an absurdly accelerated rate that she could overtake the feline’s own expansion, while hoping that she’d be able to control it when the two of them were close enough in size to be able to talk things out like normal people. The transformation lasted for so long that, much like before, the Latias found herself dozing off and then waking up an indeterminate amount of time later, significantly larger, unbelievably hungry, and still hooked to the same lifeline of creamy milk, the endless wellspring of sweet nectar that would never run out, no matter how hard she tried to empty it. ‘Twas only after the first couple of resting periods that any noticeable change came about, and even then it was naught but a slight difference in how big the nipple bearing over Sierra looked, with it becoming ever so slightly smaller than it had before, quite fortuitously giving the Latias the motivation she needed to keep drinking even harder; her goal, at that point, wasn’t even to see Emily, but just to be able to wrap her own mouth around that leaking bud, knowing that if she grew big enough to do that, then interacting with the cat should be relatively easy… at least in theory. In practice, it appeared that Emily had different ideas altogether, because no matter how close Sierra got to being able to take the nip into her mouth, the gargantuan wall of boob didn’t seem to get any smaller at all, being still the same overwhelmingly massive, seemingly insurmountable barrier of soft, kneadable breastflesh it always had been. It was only after the gorging had carried on for what felt like days, when a single fraction of Sierra’s belly could probably hold millions of herself as she had been immediately after emerging from her old universe, that a shift in perspective took place, and it only served to cement the size difference even further in Sierra’s mind. As she opened her eyes after a quick nap, or perhaps a couple of years of slumber, the first thing the Latias saw was a nipple bud, right in front of her, taunting her to let go of the soft boob in her mouth and instead wrap her lips around it; even at her colossal size, Sierra still wasn’t big enough to take that thing in fully without a lot of work on her part, and even then she nearly unhinged her jaw to take what was effectively just half of a nipple into her mouth. After this was done, however, the Poké-gal’s eyes turned away from her goal and instead scanned the area immediately around her; for a spot of good news, she did see Emily. She also, unfortunately, became fully aware of how terrifyingly immense they were, and how outmatched she herself still was by someone whose scale defied all sense of logic and reason. The overall shape for Emily was actually quite simple, at least to describe; it was in trying to come to grips with her size that things took a turn for the worse, because putting to words the sort of weight and heft that she had on display was something that Sierra lacked the ability to do. The closest the Latias could get was a vague notion of comparative size, that being that each of the feline’s breasts, on their own, would probably be enough to completely smother Emily’s body underneath the sheer size of them, stuffed to the brim with milk and expanding rapidly in every direction just as much as Emily herself was… and the cat happened to have eight of those things. Rather than the traditional two, it seemed that the feline goddess had, for whatever reason, developed three extra sets of breasts, effectively transferring the near-totality of her body weight into her many busts, and leaving her utterly outmatched by four racks of a size so all-consuming that it was no wonder that Sierra took that much time just to be able to grasp its full size. Even worse, Emily didn’t seem all that worse for wear; the Latias would’ve expected such a disparity in proportions to be taxing, or at least the slightest bit uncomfortable, but from what little she could see, the gigantic cat was actually pretty fine; in fact, they had shifted positions so they could lie “on top” of the bed of breasts attached to their chest, their face bearing a contented expression of a serenity unlike any that Sierra had ever seen. Only then did the Poké-gal realize her friend didn’t even know that she was there; by comparison, her own body was still pitifully small compared to theirs, seeing as it just then managed to wrap its mouth around a single one of Emily’s eight nips… though, at the same time, this did mean she used to be a lot smaller than she was then, and if she had full access to one of those leaky buds, it could only mean she had unrestricted access to the milk flow as well. Perhaps a bit too much, actually, seeing as the Latias’ greed, compared to the raw thickness of the cream and how much power it was being fired into her, ensured that a limit would be reached eventually, and though Sierra didn’t really want it to happen, the first of what would be many hiccups erupted from her throat. Normally, this wouldn’t be too much of a problem; she had simply drank too much, too quickly, and her body reacted in the only way it could, by way of multiple tiny spasms presumably meant to stabilize her. Unfortunately for both of the women involved there, this wasn’t a normal situation, nor was Sierra in any position where she was willing to stop drinking to let the hiccups pass; if anything, the fact that they were there was proof positive that she was consuming the fattening substance as quickly as she could without it becoming legitimately dangerous, prompting her to suckle on that nipple bud just as hard as before. But just as she hiccuped, just as the Latias’ body went through the short convulsion, it became clear that, with nowhere else to go, and with Sierra’s jaw locked tightly around one of Emily’s teats, the only direction the milk could be propelled by the hiccup was… back inside. And while one might assume that the sheer difference in size between the two gals was such that a pitiful amount of cream like that wouldn’t even begin to make a dent in the cat’s full size, the fact of the matter was, pushing any amount of milk back into Emily’s tits violated a very simple law, one that the goddess’ body had been ruled by for quite a while at that point: milk was supposed to go out, not in, so the fact that the latter happened and not the former seriously confused the feline’s physical form for a couple of moments… a couple of moments where, trying to make sense of what happened, her breasts suddenly filled up with vast quantities of cream in a sort of stress reaction before stabilizing again, enough of it that not only did Sierra find her mouth being forcefully popped clear of the tap she’d been drinking from thanks to how impossibly enormous it became, but if one were to add up the totality of Emily’s many busts and put them all together before this sudden growth spurt, their full, collective volume would still not be enough to hold up to a single nipple after her body was done filling, leaving the cat feeling incredibly confused, seeing as she wasn’t even aware Sierra was there. And, since Sierra wasn’t about to let a random growth spurt get in the way of her and growing bigger, it wouldn’t take more than a moment for her to recompose after the colossal jump in size, and with the sort of skill that could only come from practice, the Latias once again stuffed her face against soft boob and invited more cream into her mouth. Now, obviously, this did nothing to stop the hiccuping itself (in fact, it arguably made it worse), meaning that it only took a few more seconds before the Poké-gal once again managed to hiccup her way into getting even more milk to push back into their friend’s body, once more triggering a growth spurt on a scale never before seen on any layer of existence: in one instant, Emily grew so much that the sum total of her breast mass would struggle to measure up to but a single pore in her new form, leaving the cat stranded atop an infinite throne of breastflesh. And they were barely even started. Sierra certainly wasn’t ready to give up the race just yet. Not until she was bigger.

It was a special day for the citizens of the megalopolis, especially for the privileged few whose jobs required them to interact with their local Arca-god in any meaningful capacity. It was Bounty Day, the third one out of six that year alone, a special occasion whereby the giant fire-type was to provide his seed for all those who came seeking it, regardless of whether or not they had special permits or even a reason for it. Normally, access to the hunk’s hyper-potent spunk was reserved only for special cases of extreme infertility or the many broodmothers entrusted with being able to hold back their primal desires after being infused by it, but years of living next to, around, and sometimes on Garthol had made it so that everyone on the planet had gained a certain degree of “immunity”, for lack of a better word. The effects of his cum on others were still beyond most people’s ability to describe them, of that there was no doubt; a single drop was enough to impregnate the most barren of wombs with full litters, while anything on the level of a “regular” release was capable of giving even the manliest of males a hyper-fertile womb of their own! But long gone were the days where being exposed to the substance meant a certain descent into madness, where merely being near the damned thing was often all it took for people to go breed-crazy and spontaneously start orgies whenever they bumped into anyone. Nowadays, such drastic consequences were usually reserved for those whose bodies were abnormally frail, at which point a long course of being near Garthol was recommended to get them back on schedule. Garthol himself had been looking forward to that day for some time, even going so far as to deliberately avoid emptying himself as effectively as normal just so he’d have more to give when it came down to doing so; he remembered the few occasions where he well and truly lost control, his climaxes having crossed state lines in how much landmass they flooded. The aftereffects were still being felt to that day, what with average breast and cock sizes having gone up dramatically in the affected areas, even without counting the incidence of hyper genes being activated; he remembered back in the day, what felt like decades before, where someone could be considered a hyper just because their shaft happened to hang down to their knees or their busts covered their torso. Nowadays, finding anyone that didn’t have to drag some part of their body along the ground was a rarity in and of itself, and that was with regular folks; any hyper running around was more a mound of delectable, supple pudge than anything else, all thanks to him! Of course, Garthol was only vaguely aware of all this, operating on a scale so far above the tiny ones underneath him that, even if they weren’t exactly tiny at all, they still barely registered with the Arcanine. It probably helped that his head was stuck beneath his neckbulk, blocked from the outside world by a set of pecs so utterly colossal that each one could probably hold the entirety of the mega-city built around him; in fact, there had been attempts at constructing settlements on them, but it was found that such close contact to Garthol’s body on a daily basis would lead to far too many cases of “lust meltdown”, as they called it, and if there was one thing he couldn’t abide by, it was people suffering because of him. It was already enough that merely seeing him was often enough cause for others to kneel and start praising his very form, he didn’t need more of that. Still, Bounty Day was special to him precisely because he could finally cut loose for a whole twenty-four hours. Itt was such a hassle to have to contain himself, especially given the effect it had on his body; it was bad enough that his regular pre dripping alone was so massive that it ran the risk of flooding the sewer system and had to be collected in a vast pump, he only ever managed to get it that small by forcibly redirecting most of his production back into his immense cumtanks, which had, over the years, ensured that they were by far the largest part of him. He still recalled a point where he could still walk without having to drag those things around, but now he mostly just hung about, sometimes lounging on the titanic wall of nutflesh that was the nearest part of his bulge; each one of his cum factories was already several miles across when empty, theoretically at least, leaving them substantially larger now that he had to constantly worry about potentially flooding whole chunks of the megalopolis if he wasn’t paying attention to how much precum was pouring out of him. That day, therefore, was an opportunity to vent some of that pressure, even if ultimately it wouldn’t do much to his overall size. Besides, it was a special celebration, and people loved any excuse to drop what they were doing to come worship him; who was he to deny them that tiny pleasure, especially when most of them had to spend their lives away from the shadow of his muscular bulk? He knew full well that, if it weren’t for the need to keep the metaphorical trains running, everyone on the planet would be more than happy to spend their lives living somewhere on the thick forest of fur that coated most of his body, either succumbing to its softness and falling into a blissful sleep, or daring to make the climb all the way to his sun-obscuring pectorals, where legend had it the heroes of old made their residence. Garthol never did anything to dispel these notions; he found them too funny not to exploit, plus it gave people an incentive to do more than cling to him like sloths and actually try and improve themselves. On occasion, he’d take a look at some of the climbers, a few of which had even cleared his midriff and began the arduous, potentially years-long journey of climbing up the underside of his mighty pecs; he found their determination to be the most enjoyable part of the experience, especially given that, even if they did clear the curve (which most didn’t, they gave up and set up residence somewhere on it), they’d still need to walk all the way over to his head, and that was a trip he was certain no one would be able to make. All in all, it was a good life to lead, albeit one where he had to worry about the safety of his little ones at every waking hour; all it took was a single moment of distraction and they’d all be drowning in his pre, to say nothing of the vanishingly rare occasions in which he was dumb enough to climax properly. Bounty Day was thus this complicated fusion of unbridled joy and celebratory lust, and panic-riddled anxiety at the slightest sign that something might go wrong. For many, this was part of the charm; for Garthol, it was a reminder of how far he’d come ever since he took up the role as that planet’s protector. He wasn’t entirely convinced that it was normal for him to be as unbelievably massive as he was, plus he was reasonably certain that he shouldn’t be able to selectively grow parts of himself just by thinking about how horny they made him, but his nuts were several miles wide each and gurgled so loudly they occasionally produced earthquakes, so who was he to complain? The first ministrations of the day commenced when his priesthood, or at least that’s what he loved to call them just to poke fun, set the special pumps in motion. These were the ones brought out purely for Bounty Day, to replace the smaller machinery that kept him controlled on a daily basis; a long, glass tube dozens of feet wide and hundreds long was navigated through the avenue leading up to where Garthol sat on his throne of nutflesh, slowly inserted over his immense shaft while taking near-paranoid care not to brush up against even an inch of cockmeat. Everyone knew that any sort of undue stimulation would be enough to set off a chain of events that would doom them all to an untimely drowning; hell, just draining Garthol at all was often an exercise in poor gambling skills, as guessing whether or not their new and improved tanks would hold his production was mostly just educated guesswork. Entire chunks of the city had been converted into pressurized canisters, each taller than the largest skyscraper, while the pumps themselves were effectively big enough to be seen from space even during the day; maneuvering that thing through the city-scape that dominated their planet was a feat of engineering so grand that the only reason they ever got it done in time for Bounty Day was by starting work on it the moment the previous one ended. Coincidentally, this was also why the number of those celebrations was so widely variable from year to year; engineering projections on that scale had a tendency to break down where Garthol was involved. The purest doses, the ones produced right after the draining began, would be given to the broodmothers working in the birthing centers, the blessed few whose bodies were made to be perpetually gravid under the influence of the Arca-god’s seed; the smallest of them had bellies so large that, from where they lay on top of them, they appeared flat rather than curved, with breasts so gigantic and stuffed with milk that being near them required protective headgear just to keep their attendants from going completely deaf. Many were in a state of constant delivery; the pregnancies may stack, but they carried to term regardless of how many others were around them, resulting in the oldest of the mothers needing an on-call team of specialists for a birthing process that never ended. Even being near them was enough to increase other people’s fertility, and it wouldn’t be at all unusual for a birth center employee to celebrate their fifth or sixth year anniversary working there by shedding their clothes and joining the ranks of the other baby makers. A similar situation was present for the dairy farms, where the most “affected” of milk producers were carried off when they were no longer able to walk from place to place. Be they natural hypers or just those affected by second-hand influence from the myriad of potential corruptive sources, it was safe to say that the smallest among them would put even the broodmothers’ gravid wombs to shame in terms of size, so much so that the pumping systems used to keep them drained often went down for miles beneath the ground just so they’d have enough room to store all of the milk. Most of it was exported off-world to the colonies, just enough that the dairy farms could make room for the next batch, while a significant amount of the remainder went to feeding Garthol himself, thus completing the cycle and ensuring that the Arcanine would continue to grow for as long as he lived. He liked this life of his, even if sometimes he felt a bit lonely. Billions of souls at his beck and call, ready to do whatever it took to please him, and yet somehow Garthol nearly always found himself struck by the existential ennui brought about from knowing he had peaked. At times he simply existed, allowing his mind to drift and wander through the vast and empty corners of his own imagination, only to come to days later whenever someone called for him or it happened to be Bounty Day. It was a reminder of his superiority, yes, but also dreadfully, terribly lonely for the hunky Arcanine. That day, however, he had a feeling something would change, something that he… didn’t know how to put into words. It was foreboding at least, almost like whatever it was would happen on a scale so monumental as to fundamentally change everything he knew about everything else, a true paradigm shift if ever there was one. He didn’t know how or why, but he had learned to pay attention to his instincts when they flared up so much… even if they did so almost every Bounty Day and it turned out to be nothing more than his latent arousal peaking again. Still, he could afford to dream! His faith in himself was well-rewarded, however. Most of the day carried on as usual, with the regular procession of supplicants making their way to him from all across the globe, singing and dancing and offering him all sorts of gifts he couldn’t even pick up without destroying, the usual fare. But there was a presence, a pressure coming from above him, far beyond the veil of even his incredibly acute eyesight. Garthol felt it before he saw it, and when he did, his eyes shot wide open and his jaw dropped onto his own neck; surely the legends couldn’t be true… and even if they were, they would certainly not come to him of all people, would they? The population below him began to sense it as well, with the crowd’s cheers falling deathly quiet and being replaced by fearful murmuring. Rumours ran wild in the throngs of mortals underneath, with some even going so far as to suggest that a second Garthol, or at least some sort of divine consort of the same species, was heading their way, a sort of second awakening that would elevate their golden age even higher. To some level, they were absolutely right, though their speculation was way off-mark when it came to who exactly was headed their way. The sky opened, the pale blue ripped open and replaced by a ragged edge, as if it had been torn apart like a sheet of paper. It occupied the entirety of the horizon, only sparing the city from darkness by virtue of the sheets of milky-white light falling down like concentrated starlight. Everyone, Garthol included, got a good view of what was coming through that portal: it was so vast, so immeasurably immense, that even the Arcanine had trouble trying to understand what it was he was seeing. Organic? Yes, absolutely, but colossal on a scale that made Garthol look tiny by comparison. It glimmered with the same colour as the light around it, twitched slightly on a rhythm that betrayed the presence of a heart that was probably as big as the planet, if not bigger! It was covered in a thin layer of fur, one carrying a dazzlingly beautiful pattern of colours that drove most who gazed upon it catatonic. It took Garthol several seconds to realize that what was bearing down on them, covering the sky from one edge to the other, was a single, solitary nipple, only the faintest hint of the breast it was attached to visible above it. The planet itself quaked underneath the mere presence of that things, its gravity well distorted for a few moments before whatever creature was pouring out from the portal manually readjusted it, an anomaly of proportions so incomprehensible that even the Arcanine was only barely aware of its presence; whatever thing had made that rip in the sky, it was clearly powerful on a level that he wasn’t ready to face up to… and for some reason, that left him both incredibly excited and unbelievably aroused, as if the mere concept of there being something, or hopefully someone out there that he could look up to as a peer and equal was enough to send his loins into overdrive. While the rest of his little ones scrambled around looking for cover, the tear in the heavens grew larger still; Garthol could feel it extending over the whole planet, a colossal rip in spacetime just above low orbit, ready to drag the planet inside of it. Rather than eldritch tentacle monsters, however, what emerged from within the portal was a creature of such utter magnificence, a thing of beauty so refined and impossibly perfect, that for the first time in what felt like forever, the Arca-god felt downright puny compared to it. After years and years of being at the literal top of his game, looking at everything that happened around him as mere routine, even when he knew that it wasn’t, Garthol was finally reminded of what it was like to be normal again, to look up at something and be completely unable to explain it. There was mystery again, there was wonder, and it took the form of a goddess so vast in scale that he could feel the megalopolis crumble around his shaft as it grew fully turgid, wrecking its way through miles of buildings. The portal itself was closed after a few minutes, the time it took for this divine beauty to emerge from it completely. Garthol could just barely make out the faintest inklings of a body, more sensing it than anything else; most of their form was dominated by a pair of breasts that could each comfortably hold a few multiples of his home planet, a cosmic-sized ass that was somehow even larger than that, and a pair of hips that just screamed at him to grab them and use them as leverage for his manic thrusting. Not that he would ever be able to do such a thing of course; someone as powerful as that titan was so far out of his league that, surely, even he couldn’t be the reason it came down to the mortal realm. When she spoke, it was the sound of strings, ringing throughout the atmosphere; melodious, harmonic, drawn at just the right tightness. It was a song more than anything else, and it instantly calmed the panicking crowds throughout Garthol’s world, soothing their fear with the knowledge that she was as benevolent as their beloved, giant hunk, if not more so; in fact, it was for him that she had descended from the heavens, and thus they need not worry. This angelic music surrounded the Arcanine, almost physical in nature as it pressed on him from every direction, leaving him feeling lighter and lighter until he believed himself capable of simply lifting off into their air. It was a wonderfully ticklish sensation, giving him just the right amount of distraction not to notice he was, indeed, slowly getting off the ground. By the time he saw his feet dangling downwards, he began to wonder if his nuts were swelling up that fast after exposure to the goddess, and it took until those enormous tankers left two craters beneath them for him to fully understand just what was going on. Had she come down to whisk him off to paradise? If so, then that giantess better be ready to have someone take his place, because there was no way he was about to leave his world unattended! His ascension by itself was also mind-bending in all the right and wrong ways, as the city seemed to be getting further and further away from him at accelerating speeds while the goddess herself, or at least the parts of her he could see, didn’t seem to be moving at all! He couldn’t say no to her, and yet felt like he should… but by the time he found the courage to do so, the planet had vanished into the aether, and the two of them were floating in near-infinite, inky darkness, not even starlight there to illuminate them. Had she opened a new portal? There was none of that milky white light present there, and yet he could see her nonetheless, just as glorious as before, just as impossibly gigantic, just as… full? Goodness, now he understood why he felt the light was milky; it… probably wasn’t light at all to begin with, now that he bothered to think about it. When she spoke again, they weren’t words, but intentions, ideas, compacted into sounds that resonated within him. It took a lot of effort to hear them without losing himself in the song, and even more to begin to understand them properly; decoding what the goddess wanted was a puzzle of such complexity that every single letter took him several minutes… at least at first. As time went on, and his body was exposed to more of her presence, uncovering what she meant seemed to get easier, more instinctual, until finally he was hearing whole words hidden in the melody, sounds that made sense, sounds that strung together to form sentences. “I’ve been watching you for some time, my love,” she spoke to him, her voice silky smooth and inviting, “and I’ve finally come for you, at long last.” “Who… who are you?” Garthol dared to ask back, feeling like he should probably know the answer to that question. “Do you not recognize me?” - the goddess’ body seemed to inflate in every direction, her planet-sized nipples suddenly so large that a single pore on their surface became bigger than she had been in her entirety mere moments before - “I am Arceus, creator, ruler, progenitress. I am all. I am that I am.” The words blew through him like high-speed wind, seeming to rip his skin, muscle and bone from him in sequence, until all that was left was his innermost essence, his soul laid bare. He had heard legends with that name, spoken in hushed tones by those who believed themselves to know the secrets of the cosmos, of the One Above that had made all things in their image. Garthol had found himself wondering about their existence many times before, but never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that they would turn out to be so… like that. At least the whole “made in their image” thing made a lot of sense; assuming that the universe was a reflection of them, then clearly the goddess was as given to obscene sizes and proportions as everyone else the Arcanine knew. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more everyone’s emphasis on virility and bigness seemed to click; of course it made sense! “What do you need of me?” - Garthol would bow, but the lack of proper footing made it difficult for him to find where ‘down’ was - “I will do whatever you ask… so long as you allow me to return to my home to care for my people.” “Your people will be taken care of,” Arceus answered dismissively, probably waving a hand behind all of that boobflesh of hers, “a new chosen will be selected from among them, and the cycle will continue. For now, I wish to partake of your bounty; it has been far too long since last I have tasted of something as sweet as you, and I wish to rectify that.” Surely she couldn’t be serious. He was big, but he wasn’t that big; Garthol could barely even see past a single one of her nipples, and that thing just seemed to be getting even larger the more he looked at it! A curious thought to have, considering his own body was producing something of a size that was, at the very least, comparable to hers; something that he hadn’t really noticed until then due to the conspicuous lack of weight he was subjected to, allowing a special portion of his body to grow outwards at such an insane speed that, by the time he looked down to see how gigantic his cock was, he couldn’t even see anything else. Just a vast expanse of his own shaft, with the “bottom” of the universe completely smothered by a pair of balls that stretched the imagination just to be remotely comprehensible. Garthol stared at himself, trying to make sense of what was going on, before he felt something in the far distance, where he assumed most of his dick was: two enormous mounds, softer than the most comfortable of sheets, wrapping themselves around his length and working it at such a speed that it should be physically impossible. Up until then, Garthol believed he knew pleasure, thought himself in possession of that particular bit of knowledge; sure, no one was as big as he was, but he rubbed his own nuts with his legs and feet, he worked his manhood, he knew what it was like to experience climax and feel his mind break in half from the strain. But he was wrong. Everything up until that exact point was nothing if not a prelude to true pleasure, a mere preparation for the sort of carnal ecstasy that only a goddess like Arceus could show him. How foolish of him to assume that he knew anything about anything at all, when the mere existence of that goddess was enough to prove that he knew nothing at all; he could barely form coherent thoughts at all now that his parsecs of cockmeat were being masterfully played with, the rest of his body shutting down to focus on this one, divine act! His surprise wasn’t alone though. Arceus, in her immense wisdom and self-assured superiority, believed herself to be at the top of the food chain, mostly since she built it herself out of nothing. It made sense for her to be utterly unassailable, thus her decision to simply take Garthol for herself and turn his universe-spanning rod as her plaything; she had spent years observing him back on his homeworld, and thought she knew how much he could produce. Even in the largest of climaxes, all he managed was to flood countries with his seed, a paltry achievement compared to her own ability to produce milk on such scales that whole galactic superclusters could fit in a single droplet if she so desired. But it was only after she got started, when the precum began to flow in ever-escalating quantities, that Arceus began to realize what a mistake she had made. In her folly, she assumed that she knew Garthol, that she understood his limits, not understanding that there were no limitations at all. She had created the universe and everything within it, and yet somehow that beast, that hunky fire-type, had surprised her with something she didn’t know: It was all precum. Always had been. It hit her like a sack of bricks the size of whole universes, the moment she tasted his supposed seed and found that it contained barely any seed at all. It wasn’t cum that he was producing, ejected from his tip at above-lightspeed and forcing her to get out of the way or have the colour blasted from her fur, but slick pre instead; Garthol had never once in his life truly experienced a climax, he just thought he did. Those pseudo-orgasms may have wracked his brain and made it hard for him to control himself, but that thick layer of spunk that he coated whole countries with beforehand was nothing if not a slightly denser version of the same slick fluids that constantly oozed from his cock on a regular basis. His balls weren’t as big as they were because he was holding back, they were like it because they were never emptied before in his life. She knew that now. And thanks to the mental link the two shared, so did he. Arceus got maybe a couple of seconds of warning before her mouth was stretched wide open by that length shoving itself into it, barreling down her throat and bulging her torso out as it deposited itself just above her stomach. Garthol couldn’t help himself, it was in his nature to succumb to his primal instincts unless he was given a reason to hold back; and seeing as the goddess wanted the exact opposite, he figured he should give her his all, especially now that he knew what was waiting for him. Even without a full, “proper” orgasm to power him, the multiverse-drowning quantities of precum firing from his tip were so immense that even Arceus had trouble handling them all; all she could do was reprocess the fluids into more of her body, but even that wasn’t enough to take care of it all. Every moment that passed engorged her assets to the point where comparisons barely even worked; a gulp was enough to make each breast so much larger that a single percentage point of a fraction of another percentage was itself a billion times larger that her whole body had been before she drank it, with her asscheeks doubling that effect and her thighs following suit. Every drop was enough to send her milkiness into overdrive, until each teat was constantly flowing with enough cream that an infinite amount of universes coalesced around it. And yet still Garthol grew, still his cock continued to stretch her out even more, still the aftershock rebounded onto him and allowed the Arca-god himself to burgeon outwards until his body put Arceus’ to shame. In mere minutes, what had once been a goddess, the true ruler of creation, had been reduced to little more than a living condom, wrapped around the immense girth of the true god’s shaft, even while the fire-type begged for her to grow larger. She had kickstarted a process that neither of them knew how to end, and now that Arceus, the only entity in existence that could even remotely hope to take Garthol at his fullest, had demonstrated herself to be wholly unable to do so… who was going to do it? Limits were no longer a factor; after a while, the goddess was about the same size as Garthol again, courtesy of him filling her so much that she caught up, yet was still firmly lodged onto his cock, impaled upon its full length. The potency of his fluids was exponentially higher with each second that passed, the edges of reality fraying as he continued to grow outwards in every non-direction. All of existence was him, him and his goddess, forevermore and always. And that’s when he felt it. His climax was about to begin.

Maiden in the Cellar Once, long ago there was a child born in a far away land, but she was different from all the other children. As she grew up, she bemoaned this difference, screaming in rage and fury at the unfairness of it all, for they teased and tormented her. The other children called her ugly, and claimed she was the ugliest maiden the kingdom had ever seen. Children can be mean like this, but she believed them. So it was that she found herself staring at the mirror one day. She fretted over the words of the others, tracing the differences in her face that none of them had. Eventually she threw the mirror, breaking it into a thousand shards, the precious item no longer able to show her hideousness reflected. The tinkling sound of the glass were like the breaking of her heart as she fled, from the room. She hid down below in the darkness, the deepest corners of the house. There she wept. For hours. For days. She wept for the humiliation and the frustration. At first her parents called to her, but she retreated, refusing to come forth. She barred the door, and she wept. Days would pass, and there was no sign of her save the occasional shifting sounds down in the dark cellar. Years passed. Above the house grew still. Empty, save for herself. And so, she became a story, the maiden so ugly that she hid herself in the ground. Deep below, she remained, the door remained barred, and she lived in a cage of her own making, lit only by the tiny window high up in the wall. A sliver of light from a world that she now rejected. The barest hint of the blue skies that she had once danced under, but there she lay, free from prying eyes. And so, it stayed that way for many years. *** *** *** It happened one day that the prince of the land, a mighty ruler indeed came forth from his castle and began his inspection of his holdings. He was a great warrior, a dragon among men, and where he travelled there were great celebrations. Every corner of his kingdom he sought out, as if searching for something her had not yet found. But to all but his loyalist minister he said nothing of his real quest. So, finally, he came to the gentle hamlet, full of thatched homes of mud brick. He studied them all, as the people rejoiced at their lord’s presence, and one caught his eye. It sat, poorly maintained, and rather decrepit at the edge of the small village. Leaning down he inquired, “To whom does that abode belong, good councilor?” “I do not know, my lord, but I shall find out.” The minister replied, bowing. And he went about the people and asked. The people of the village told him many stories, some of a wicked witch, others of a winsome maiden, who had hidden herself there. No one dared approach now, for they feared that spirits dwelt in the walls, so long had it been since they’d seen her. At last, her came to an old man, eldest in the village, and he got the truth. For the old man remembered the girl, and he told the story aright, but he shook his head. “I do not think you will find a maiden there anymore, perhaps a crone, or perhaps nothing. For she dines on moonlight and tears. If you listen in the night, you can hear her weep still.” The minister pondered this, and returned to the prince, who sat on a great throne set up for him. Relating the stories he heard to his master, he gave no council. The prince rubbed his chin, intrigued, and lost in thought. The next morning, he strode forth and came to the door of the home, and he knocked. There was no answer. He pushed open the door and found the decay of a century, perhaps there was no one here after all. He searched the house, for it was not large, until he came at last to the heavy door that led to the cellar. Locked and barred, it denied him entry. He pondered this, and knocked. If there was another on the other side of the door, they ignored his requests that they come forth. Not yet dismayed, he remembered the story of the oldest man as his wizened old minister had told it. She dined on moonlight. So, he took to walking about the house until he found a small window near the ground, the stones around it covered in mosses, hidden by tall grasses. The mighty prince crept over to this window, his muscles tense, barely daring to breath. Behind him, his minister watched, wondering what could interest his master so that he would lay his royal body upon the dirty ground. But he could not see what the prince saw. And the prince saw something that light his heart, sending it aflutter. In the darkness below, she glinted, a faint light in the gloom. Radiant, that tiny bit of her that slipped into the light. She was a light in the darkness and in that moment, he knew he had to have her. The prince stayed in the hamlet many days, neglecting the tour of his realm. The commoners talked, wondering what could have gained their lord’s attention, captivating him so fully. Each morning he would go to the small window, and there he would press a trinket through a crack in the glass, and whisper words of kindness and love to the shape that moved below in the darkness. *** *** *** She heard his voice. The first to call to her in many years. She sat deep in her darkness, her tears still trailing down her face, but slowly they dried themselves under the kindness of his words. She listened to him for the joy of the sound, but deep down she did not believe someone could find her fair. She was hideous, and yet the trinkets came. At first, she would not touch them. But soon she swept them into a pile around herself, and the pile grew. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, coins, small gems. They piled about her, and each day she would find another small item waiting for her. The awoke something in her, and she came to relish them. Soon rings adorned her fingers, and her chest heaved with the weight of the necklaces that chimed in time with the rise and fall of her bosom. Every time she moved the bracelets and anklets chimed. After many such items had fallen, she felt compelled to answer. To call back finally. And so it was that with great joy in his heart the prince finally heard the dulcet tones that echoed to his straining ears from the darkness. He lay there for hours, and they shared secrets with each other. The minister watched all this, concerned. His master had neglected his duties far too long, and he sat lost in the small world between himself and the cellar. But his master would not listen, and the minister dutifully sighed as he marked each new gift in the ledger, and put stays on royal decrees that piled up in the prince’s absence. Yet still, the prince would not move. The minister, ever loyal, merely resigned himself to wait. *** *** *** At last, a year and a day from his first arrival the prince dropped one last item through the widening crack in the window. A heavy band, gold and dancing with jewels entwined in sacred etchings. The silvery hand of the maiden reached out from the gloom, pausing as she regarded it. It was large, heavier than any other ring that she now wore, and she knew it for what it was. Slowly her fingers took it, letting it gleam in the morning ray of light. His watched and he waited. There was one place on her yet bare, and this one she delicately slipped the ring on. It glimmered and flashed as her tail swept into the light, letting the stones in the ring flash like fire in the morning sun. His heart leapt. She had made her choice. The heavy band now in place she stood and shook off the century of dust as she lifted herself up the stairs. One step then another, before she reached the barred door. Her fear, her sorrow falling from her as she lifted it away and opened the door. The old wood giving way before her claws, the locks breaking even as the chains of her heart shattered. The aging door creaked, and the entrance was smaller than she remembered as she wedged herself through, the walls rubbing on her scales as she pressed outward into the decaying hut, and then with a hesitant step out into the sunlight once more. Her heart leapt as she found herself snout to snout with another like her. His scales rippling; crimson and scarlet above, and golden below with great golden eyes that pierced her soul. His horns gleaming like burnished gold. Her silver flame echoed his fiery red. And so, it as she placed one claw in his, and he intertwined his tail with hers. They left that place together, and wed soon after. It told then that there was a year and a day of celebration as the prince welcomed his new princess. The ritual and splendor were said to be the finest of seven kingdoms. And she finally knew happiness and peace. And the loyal minister watched all this with a faint smile, knowing at last his lord had found what he sought, and all was well. And what ever became of them? Why, they are still there, ruling justly over the land, their tails still intwined, ever in love.

Julia had expected the adaptation to be the worst part. In fact, meeting with her parents was something she was certain would be so painful that, for hours on end after breaking free from the steakhouse, she refused to make the trek back home, despite the fact that she could clearly see it and her parents outside of it from her vantage point so far up above. It was embarrassing, and not just because of her completely shattering her compressors; it was more so the fact that she had lost control entirely, and her new body, glorious though it may be, was the result of her being unable to keep track of where her ability to keep her impulses in check had gone to. That, above all, made it hard for her to face her old folks, as despite everything, they had done a good job educating her to be better than that. Then again, she was big enough to be seen by them a good couple of miles away, so the whole thing was really a moot point; whether or not she decided to speak with them, the cat was out of the bag, leaving Julia with no recourse but to walk over to her house and let her mom and dad know the truth of the matter: that their daughter had not only completely ignored the lean living principles by which their family was guided, but had actually gone in the completely opposite direction, doing her best to bulk up and grow as much as she possibly could whenever her parents weren’t looking. It didn’t help that the yeen knew she wouldn’t have time to think about what to say while on the way back home, like she used to when she was younger and did something she’d have to provide an excuse for; really, all it’d take would be a handful of steps and the trip would be over, leaving her with precious little time to come up with any good reason for why things took the turns they did. Yet, why should she try and excuse herself? Why should she waste time and energy trying to come up with some bullshit fictional narrative about why she totally didn’t want to be the biggest yeen on the planet, on how she absolutely didn’t love the feeling of bulking up so much that the very compressor gear she wore broke down? She’d spent months deliberately choosing not to mention that she was ignoring the dietary and lifestyle habits that she supposedly loved participating in, and the end result was her quite literally outgrowing a significant chunk of the downtown area of her home city, to the point where her head was surrounded by clouds and she could just make out the next town over if she squinted hard enough. To pretend that she was anything other than elated, anything other than thoroughly out of her mind on sensory overload, would be a waste of time; polite fictions were no longer of use to her, not to a goddess in the making like she happened to be. Hers was the world to take, the world to reshape and mould to better fit her desires, since, after all, she wasn’t going to stop; it was ludicrous to think that, just because her parents found out, Julia would then turn around and promise to be a good little girl as she worked off all the bulk weight and went back to being a piddly, insignificant like hyena who wouldn’t even register within a crowd. Just as ludicrous as to assume that she wouldn’t immediately take the first opportunity she got to grow even more, though by that point, picking out individual restaurants from amidst the rubble would be slightly difficult; no, she needed an adaptation period, and that would be the worst part of it all, given that Julia was now without equal. If the world had ever experienced someone like her, then maybe it would’ve been easier, but given her rather unique genetic make-up, furkind was suddenly beset by someone who could not only grow easily, but seemed lacking in an upper cap to limit said growth. This was what Julia let her parents know, when she finally worked up the courage to get up and drag herself over, believing that there’d be plenty of shouting and pointing of fingers; she was surprised to find that the opposite was true: rather than a pair of very angry parental figures sternly staring her down, she found her parents with their arms wide open, ready to embrace whatever part of their daughter they could get close to, already gushing with words of encouragement about how beautiful she looked, and how proud they were that she was finally living up to her true potential. It was such a departure from their usual way of acting that Julia was genuinely taken aback by it, left wondering if what she was seeing was genuine, or her parents trying to come to terms with the fact that they had a giant goddess for a daughter now, and needed to find some way to act that wouldn’t lead to her using her powers for any destructive ends. Not that she would, of course; even if displeased, the yeen was far too benevolent a deity to bring her wrath down on anyone at all, much less her old folks, as they were, ultimately, responsible for bringing her into the world! If not for them, then she wouldn’t be blessing everyone for miles around with her presence, and that counted for quite a bit; ultimately, however, it was their acceptance which served to bring Julia that much closer to her own divine side, as now she didn’t need to worry about keeping anything secret! No more omissions, no more lying, no more doing anything other than living life to its fullest and growing even further; it was a weight off her shoulders, just as more weight was packed on, the sheer glee and satisfaction that came with that sudden freedom being apparently as nutritious and filling as actual food. The ground rumbled as her form swelled outwards even more, barrelling through the whole neighborhood while the yeen struggled to keep her parents’ house safe at the very least; she’d never fit back inside, but at least her old folks deserved to keep a roof over their heads after everything they did for her. Plus, maybe it’d serve as a place for pilgrimage once word spread enough and the first of the faithful started arriving; it was silly to think that the world could be given someone like Julia and for it not to lead to some sort of religious awakening, really. First things first though: getting the compressors off of her. The yeen could tell that, despite her best efforts, the trinkets she had purchased in order to keep herself at a manageable size hadn’t actually come off, despite the fact that they really should have broken into pieces just from her size burst alone; the compressor field was sure to be off, but the hyena giantess wasn’t exactly well-versed on how the tech worked. Thankfully, there were plenty around her who were, and only needed the giantess to raise her hand and speak a few words before stepping forth and practically begging to let them help her, and not entirely on professional terms either. Julia didn’t mind; being capable of so thoroughly warping those around her that she could turn the stuffiest of lab rats into mindless, instinct-driven pleasure-seekers was just part of the charm of having become that large, as was the ability to pluck entire groups of people off the ground using only a single hand, all while still having plenty of space to spare. There was something magical about being able to have an entire research operation working on her, like she was some sort of titanic organic platform, of a size so fantastical that entire settlements could crop up on her… which, to be fair, wasn’t that far off from the truth. She wasn’t that big yet, but considering the sort of revelations that came when the compressor technicians reported their findings, she wouldn’t be waiting that much longer before reaching that point either. It felt downright ridiculous to suggest it, but according to the little ones whose literal job it was to understand how compressor tech worked at every level, her own trinkets hadn’t actually gone off. They should have, and they related as much; after months of continuous use and the sort of abuse levied on them, it was nothing short of miraculous that they managed to hold themselves together until Julia finally gave in and indulged at the steak house. Despite this, their compressor field was still, somehow, turned on… which also meant that the yeen’s sized, her downtown-covering body capable of walking miles in just a few steps, the absolute titan of bulk that would put every bodybuilder in the world put together to shame, was still a lesser, more condensed version of the goddess’ true form. The reveal was, if not shocking, then certainly revelatory; at her size, Julia wasn’t sure she could even be surprised by anything at all, but the sudden understanding that she was that big and yet was even larger underneath the several layers of compression was certainly one that she took with a certain degree of, for lack of a better word, unbridled enthusiasm. No one could stop her now, that much was clear; secondary analysis also revealed that her body was still growing underneath the coating of dimensional distortions, in part because she’d grown so large that the underlying mechanisms began to interact with her in bizarre, almost esoteric ways. She was an anomaly, a thing that shouldn’t be, one that grew without additional input of mass and challenged the notion of physical law as anyone alive knew it; this, above all else, was the impetus behind the yeen’s decision to grow ever larger, since clearly, if she was already breaking physics just by existing, who knew what could happen if she was actively trying to do so? The sky wasn’t even the limit anymore; her head was already breaking through low-lying clouds, so clearly wherever she could go, it had to be further up, assuming she didn’t just lounge about, lying down and using the planet as her personal recliner. Then again, that might make some people antsy; as much of the vast majority of onlookers quickly turned to worship from the moment the giantess first revealed herself, it didn’t take more than a couple of hours for the first signs of dissent to make themselves clear. Government agents and police officers alike all tried to get her attention, and after doing her best to ignore them, the yeen eventually had to turn around and face them, even if by that point she’d already outgrown the ability to discern any one of the tiny ones below from the ground on which they walked. It was almost impossible to fathom just how quickly she’d grown, and all on her own as well; as if someone had simply skipped ahead on her journey, Julia could barely remember the time between her emerging from the superstore and her sitting there, one asscheek covering half of the city and the other taking up the other half, listening to someone on a megaphone trying to talk her into slowing down. Could they not see that asking for such a thing was downright heretical? Julia was their goddess, and yet they were actively trying to bring her down a peg? It was almost enough for her to genuinely get angry… almost, because an errant thought left her feeling so giddy that she couldn’t help but grin wildly at it: why not go along with it? If the little ones wanted her to stop growing so much, they’d be forced to slap more compressors onto her, and if the ones she already had were most likely the root cause of her becoming that large even before she began feasting, then placing more layers on top of the existing ones could only make the effect even worse. Plus, if she played along, taking on the role of the obedient, pliable giantess, then maybe they’d even go so far as to feed her, since surely the state wouldn’t want someone like her starving in front of the whole world! It was a win-win situation, especially since Julia doubted she’d need to do more than pay lip service; what was the government going to ask her to do, not be huge? Thus began her new “life”, one that Julia had to spend a considerable amount of effort not breaking into constant giggling fits over; her body never did stop growing, that much was a given, but it was slowed down considerably once the government began providing for more compressor wear. Seeing as no one produced clothes of her size, the only method available was to keep lavishing her with new and increasingly more elaborate jewelry, building on already existing methods to upscale commercially available trinkets at minimal cost to producers. In practice, what this meant was that Julia’s body became increasingly more adorned with a plethora of almost excessively luxurious adornments, gold and silver and platinum glinting under the sunlight as she did, in fact, end up lounging around on her “throne”: the remains of the city she used to live near, stamped and flattened out of existence, with most of its residents having chosen to reside on her even after being offered housing away from what the state had termed a “disaster area”. It was a constant battle between the yeen and those who were meant to keep her in check, an uphill one for the latter, who were more or less guaranteed to lose at some point in the future; the more compressors they placed on Julia, the more resplendent they made her, thus inspiring more worship and, in return, a greater certainty on the part of the yeen herself, who grew more confident with each passing day. It was a case where the jailors just couldn’t avoid giving their prisoner whatever they wanted, because what else were they supposed to do, tell the giantess that no, she couldn’t have food? The best they could do was try and limit her intake, and even then the hyena still managed to eat her body weight in meat and protein powder every day, always demanding more by the end of it; the effects this had on her could not be understated, as even with several dozen individual compressor layers stacked on top of her, she was still massive, and still growing bigger: standing at a good five miles from head to paw at week’s end, it was clear to everyone involved that any thought of “containment” was little more than a pipe dream at best, and an outright delusion at worst… which was precisely why Julia kept it going. She could’ve stopped the charade at any point she wanted; after the initial settling period, when it became obvious who was truly in charge, it was entirely within her power to raise her hand and command those “containing” her to instead begin serving her even more food, to worship her very form at every second of every hour. But she didn’t, because frankly, it was a lot funner when she got to watch tens of thousands of little souls all scurrying about, all pretending like they weren’t smitten with her, all busying themselves in their feeble, worthless attempts at keeping a literal goddess under wraps. They certainly did try, and if nothing else, Julia had to admit that the multinational crew sent to hold her back from overrunning the planet wasn’t lacking in determination; every day they would find something new to worry about, yet every day they still carried on with their task, hellbent on preventing the budding threat from growing entirely out of control, even when that had already happened before they even had the chance to start working… and they themselves knew it, to some extent. That the containment operations were dead in the water before they were even put in place was a given, at least to everyone but the people in charge of the project; those who were actually on the field, those who could see with their own eyes as the giantess yeen became ever larger with each passing day, those who were in charge of staring at compressor equipment only to despair as the hidden rate of growth skyrocketed regardless of how many layers they used, they knew the truth: there was no stopping Julia. It was inevitable, as was she, and no amount of money thrown at entire industries, that they may create production lines specifically for the yeen alone, would ever fix that. Eventually, at some point in the near future, the goddess-in-the-making would grow tired of her little game and effortlessly sweep all the little ones aside, to take her place as the rightful ruler of that world; this much the crew knew, and this much they were oh-so-dreadfully wrong about. There would come a time when Julia grew bored, yes, this much even she couldn’t deny, but to even suggest that she would do something as brash and aggressive as outright assaulting those tending to her? To even think that she would visit harm upon those who had done such a wonderful job keeping her entertained? Why, that was positively ludicrous; how else was she supposed to rise to the occasion and be all that she could be if not with the help of those around her? It’d be slightly difficult to be a goddess if there was no one around for her to be a goddess for, after all; and besides, was she expected to go and hunt and cook her own food, when she had so many people who’d be more than eager to do that for her? No, she needed the little ones around her, as otherwise her ascension just wouldn’t make sense. It’d be like setting up a feast and then not inviting anyone else; sure, she could just devour it herself, but it wouldn’t be the same as if she’d brought in the whole world to partake of it alongside herself, doubly so when she could then ask her guests to go fetch more food when the table began to run light. So, Julia waited, determined to see how far she could take that polite fiction before it broke down completely. She had no reason to rush things, not when she was already in control of the situation and could take the reins whenever she well pleased; at that point, the real battle was not between herself and the containment crew, but the little ones and their own budding arousal and desire for worship, which grew stronger and more insurmountable by the day. The real conflict was in the very people hired to keep the goddess from achieving her full potential and their own desire to make her reach said level, even when they were reasonably certain they’d suffer because of it; the need was stronger than them, acting on an instinctual level that no one there could really understand, much less put to words. There was something about the yeen’s body, the way its colossal frame was so impossibly huge that it defied their brains’ ability to even begin to understand it; living things weren’t meant to be so big that they could be spotted from orbit, as even the largest of macro-level individuals never went beyond skyscraper-sized. For the yeen to have grown so large was literally impossible, as it stretched the limits of biomechanics to such an extent that she should’ve collapsed underneath the weight of her substantial bulk far before the point where her head was basically completely encapsulated by her neck… yet, for whatever reason, she didn’t, and instead decided to keep going even faster than before, requiring further investment in compressor wear that translated into an increasingly obscene amount of jewelry. Perhaps it was intentional on the universe’s part, that the best way the crew found to slow down the inexorable advance was to coat the giantess in so many shiny adornments that she looked the part of the multiversal goddess conqueror that everyone believed her to be: gold and silver, resplendent under the light of the sun, hugging her curves and leaving the yeen looking like something out of a growth enthusiast’s wet dream; everyone present knew that, if she were to stand up, then all would be over. Not because of the destruction, no, but the mere sight of the goddess in her full glory, reflecting the light of the star that was hers by right, her body clinking and jangling with the absurd quantity of trinkets she had on her, would slam down on so many buttons that it was genuinely unlikely that anyone within several miles of her would be capable of holding onto their sense of self. Rather, first visual impact would strip everything away but pure, blind worship, leaving them open for any horrific tragedies that the giantess might want to visit upon them… and it was a testament to her power that, despite the little ones earnestly believing this, they still wouldn’t mind if it happened, as that very moment, that instant where they surrendered to her, would surely be one of such magnificent, rapturous pleasure, that they would experience it for all eternity as their personal paradise. Julia, meanwhile, had different plans, even if they coincidentally also began with her standing up and showing off; though, in her case, it was more so because she’d been lying down for so long that the yeen felt like stretching her limbs before going on a planet-wide tour, one that wouldn’t end until everyone was on her, and quite literally so. With her body being what it was, plus the fact that not only was it still growing but most of it was also still hidden away by what were, at that point, millions of layers of compression, why shouldn’t she become the new host for the world’s population? She’d gotten her first taste when the compressor technicians climbed onto her immediately after she broke free from the superstore, of being so large that people could just live on her if they wanted to, and now, after weeks of rampant, uncontrolled size surges, she had become something… greater. A goddess, sure, but perhaps something more, something that would serve as a paradigm shift for all of furkind, assuming of course she could figure out how to keep herself from suffocating in a vacuum. For she was destined to grow forevermore, to never stop, even when it became clear that she was well on her way to outgrowing the planet; hell, at that point in time, she probably was bigger than the whole world already, seeing as her hyper-shrunk form was still nearly ten miles tall and so wide and bulky that it took up a significant chunk of the state purely from muscle mass alone. It was barely discernible as a body anymore, more so a conglomeration of muscle groups that just sort of stuck together in some form of cohesive whole that could charitably be described as being a hyena, if one squinted hard enough; and while some might find such a sight to border on the excessive, the truth of the matter was that it provided ample space for the billions of souls living on Earth to move onto and find their own personal slice of Heaven for them to rest upon and experience eternal bliss. She would become Paradise, the perpetual home for her kind, a body so glorious that its mere presence radiated power, warmth, sustenance, that all those who willingly chose to climb onto her could live for as long as they wanted and never want for anything. All their needs would be catered to, even if in an esoteric fashion, as their minds were allowed to sink further and further into an endless ocean of pleasure that they would gladly drown themselves in. Julia could see it: herself, floating through space, having outgrown not just her homeworld, but the very star system that it was in, becoming larger and denser still with every non-breath she didn’t take, until her scale became galactic, then further beyond. She saw herself, the eternal heaven for all the little ones around her, and any else who she might meet on the way: whole planets and civilizations would be swept up in her glorious growth, until the whole universe was hers to play host to. And that… awoke something else in her. Up until then, all thoughts had been of herself as a goddess, but more particularly a benevolent goddess, one who would take all her little worshippers and whisk them away to everlasting bliss and pleasure, but there was something else in there. There was another Julia, the same one who had caused her own ascension to begin with, the yeen who had disobeyed her parents and thrown herself into the maws of self-indulgent madness, of greed and ravenous gluttony, the same one who sat down at the steakhouse that started it all and consumed her weight in meat several times over. And while this Julia also saw herself as divine perfection incarnate, it saw it from a… different perspective. The world was, after all, hers to take, as was everything on it, and it just so happened that there was plenty of assorted protein to be found if only she would bother to look; that, or, as Julia was quick to find out, just about everything else. Why should she limit herself to protein when she was so huge already? Her body was so muscular that adding more of the same stuff onto it was bound to have diminishing returns, not to mention the simple fact that, deep down, she didn’t want the same stuff, not when she had so much more to choose from; the whole world was hers to take, yes, but so was everything else. There was a literal universe of possibilities out there for her, one that was unguarded, unprotected, and ready for the taking if only she dared to go for it; a whole universe of mass and matter that could be hers to consume, if only she bothered to get back up and do something about that ravenous hunger that she only then realized had been there all that time. Stuck underneath miles of neckbulk, the yeen’s face broke out into a wide grin as she licked her lips, knowing that she didn’t even need to “eat” things in the conventional way, not anymore; basic logic dictated she did, and indeed her biology was still fundamentally the same, even if supersized, but she was a goddess, and as one it was he prerogative to decide whether or not reality obeyed certain rules, or if she herself had to listen to these rules to begin with. Thus, if Julia decided that she needn’t actually swallow anything, then it would no longer be required; similarly, if she decided that mere touch was enough to begin absorbing whatever it was she wanted to consume, then the universe would simply have to provide, and damn the consequences of that as well. She’d break physics, again and again, if only it meant sating a hunger that could never be sated, quenching an endless thirst that would never end, even if the whole universe was a well and she drank it dry; she would turn the entirety of existence into fodder for herself, cackling all the way to the very end, knowing as she did that nothing and no one could stop her. Whether or not the little ones around her were even carried along for the ride stopped being relevant, as their well-being was no longer her concern, at least not until her need for more mass was taken care of. Sure, they could climb onto her if they wanted to, as it wouldn’t really matter; they were so tiny that, even if Julia were to muster up the willpower to waste time eating them all, they’d barely qualify as a light snack, if even that much. No, she had far greater, more magnificently oversized targets in mind, landscapes and mountain ranges and oceans and continents and the whole damned planet by the end of it; the atmosphere, her homeworld’s moon, the next planets over, the gas giants, the disparate asteroids and comets, and finally… finally, at the very end, she would loom over the local star, so miniscule, so inconsequential, so defenseless, as the yeen’s body would surely be so enormous by then that a single nipple would be enough to overshadow the spherical fusion engine. A snap of the fingers, a flick of the wrist, and it would be gone, leaving nothing of the star system behind but Julia, and whoever happened to be on her once she ascended to her rightful place in the heavens. She was slobbering by that point, so eager to get started that the compressor technicians were given due warning in the form of the distortion layers they were supervising crashing into one another. It was a theoretical possibility, that should one push too much mass into a stacked compression field, it would cause the first layer to collapse into the second one, with the condensed mass shockwave crashing into the third one, then the fourth, and so on in a cascading failure that would only end once all the material hidden away underneath the many layers fully spilled into realspace. And with the rumbling that everyone on the planet felt, with the sonic blasts emanating from the yeen’s mouth as she moaned and whined and screamed for more, everyone else knew what was about to happen. They hadn’t had nearly enough time to prepare. But it was out of their hands now. It was Julia’s time to shine.

Even assuming those rings worked at all, Darius had his doubts that they would really do much at all; after all, the two of them were already bigger than anyone else at the gym by a very wide margin, so what exactly were trinkets designed for the little ones going to do to them that they hadn’t already done to themselves? Despite this, Iris was insistent that they try anyway, if for no other reason other than they might possibly work, and if they did, then things would be even more amazing than they were already. This was, as far as the Blaziken could tell, absolutely flawless logic that he couldn’t disagree with, so he put the ring on his finger, clicked the button that was supposed to set it off, and went back to his regular workout. Every day for the past two years or so, Darius and Iris had met at that gym for their regular five hours of physical exercise, a workout regimen that the both of them had heard about at around the same time and had fortuitously decided to start working on near-simultaneously; in fact, they met when Darius walked in to sign up for gym membership and Iris was already finishing up her own paperwork, making for as good of an excuse as any for the two of them to start working out together, especially given that, back then, they were about the two scrawniest people in the whole gym. Having decided to get started in the middle of spring, there was no one left from the flood of Resolutioners (as the rest of the gym-goers called them), leaving them to look incredibly out of place next to the hunks and amazons that made that place their home. They were lucky that everyone else was quite welcoming of them; no elitism, no sidelong glances at what they considered to be puny weaklings, but rather an endless supply of tips, advice and even mechanical help for when one of the pieces of equipment inevitably stopped working or was bent out of shape. Thus, over the course of their two years there, the chameleon and Blaziken had struck up an initially odd, but eventually enduring and stable friendship, based on both of their endless appetites for more. For after a while, it stopped being about looking better, or getting more fit, or any of the excuses that they originally had for slotting in so much time at the gym when compared to the average person, and became about more. More size, more musculature, more biceps, more thundering steps, more doors broken, more milk, more cum, more balls, more dick, more tits, more everything; they didn’t know whether it was because of their workout regimen affecting them in some strange way or their bodies just being that special, but where others “merely” gained Adonis-like figures that they could sell for a pretty penny to a sports magazine, Darius and Iris got so much more. In fact, they had reached their self-imposed goals within a few short months, not even half a year, leaving the gym staff and regulars flabbergasted at how easily their forms took to their new routine. They could’ve stopped there, but the rush of serotonin whenever they flexed one of their arms and saw the veins on those biceps bulge, or took a step and watched as the water inside the cooler on the other end of the room trembled, was simply too much for them to give up. The fact that their more private areas were gaining so much from the exercise that they stopped being private also helped as well; Darius had never envisioned a world in which he simply couldn’t hide his package, and thus had to make do with a speedo that did absolutely nothing to hide any of it, nor did Iris consider that hitting the gym would leave her with a pair of breasts big enough to obscure most of her chest while still being near-perfectly spherical. Even better, there seemed to be some cross-contamination going on, because after the first year mark, the chameleon had to deal with a heavy, floor-dragging package of her own while the Blaziken suddenly had a pair of inexplicably very full pecs that constantly leaked milk whenever he even so much as laid a finger on them. This was by the end of year one, and again they could’ve stopped… but didn’t, choosing instead to go for double or nothing, and causing no end of trouble for the gym when their bodies just stopped being able to fit inside. Luckily for everyone involved, the sheer publicity generated by both Darius and Iris had brought in so much more extra business that not only could the building itself be expanded to meet the growing demands of their best customers, but said customers could be brought onto the staff as well, serving as little more than glorified window dressing, albeit very good dressing all things considered. With each of them being easily over twenty feet tall, Darius carrying a pair of face-obscuring, milk-leaking pecs and a pair of nuts so big that he looked small next to them, all while Iris had to contend with a bust so colossal that she literally had to push and pull it from place to place, given that it was permanently stuck squished between the floor and the ceiling, it was nothing short of a miracle that their impossibly bulked-up and well-defined musculature was still the biggest attraction on their bodies, and indeed the one that generated the most traffic for both them, the gym, and prospective business ventures. Iris in particular had wondered when she’d be extended some sort of lingerie modelling offer, but instead all she was ever given were sponsorship deals for sports drinks and muscle enhancers, both of which she took gladly, while Darius just basked in the glory of being the biggest fire-type on the planet. And they could’ve stopped there. But they didn’t. The rings that Iris had purchased were supposed to help people put on muscle mass, which to them might as well be the same as painting a wall after applying fifteen coats already; given the type of life they led though, who was going to stop them from becoming even better and more powerful incarnations of the very definition of excess? At their size, the only thing capable of even so much as scratching them would need to be military hardware, and even that much was highly doubtful; who knew, maybe if they flexed hard enough, they could deflect tank rounds and missiles! But… it wasn’t enough, not for them. And when Iris brought those rings into the gym that day, both of them knew they had to put them on, even with Darius’ skepticism getting in the way. Initially though, nothing seemed to happen, with the Blaziken even daring to lift a single eyebrow as if to utter those four forbidden words that he knew would get him slapped in the face if they ever escaped his lips, but as the two of them carried on with their day and the rings themselves just sort of slipped from their minds, that’s when the effects began to make themselves known. Even at their sizes, it was uncommon for them to experience that much growth on any given day. Sure, they were twenty feet tall, but it had taken them a whole two years to get there; things had a tendency to accumulate, but it took a very fine comb for them to find any significant gains in as short a time period as a single workout. One could imagine their surprise, then, when they began lifting weights that had been calibrated specifically for their mountainous sizes and found that not only did they feel significantly lighter, but flimsier as well; it usually took them a few good tries before the metal bars snapped, and yet after a while all they had to do was grab them a bit harder than usual for the whole thing to be turned into a mangled piece of broken and bent bits of metal that just vaguely resembled something that might once have been a bench. It would’ve been alarming, and indeed it was for most people, but as far as Darius or Iris cared, this was nothing more than what the rings promised, and against all odds, they appeared to be actually delivering! Didn’t take too long before the first members of staff came around to ask them to tone it down or, in a couple of notable occasions, stop altogether, leaving the two giants very little recourse but to laugh it off whenever the requests were made. Surely the tiny ones around them couldn’t hope to think that their biggest attractions would just stop, right when they were given the best opportunity they’d ever had to reach heights never before seen? They’d sooner stop working out altogether, as ridiculous as that sounded, and made sure to make this as clear as possible… just not through words. After all, the building had been expanded to meet their demands, so what better way to make it clear that this was insufficient than to make the gym look positively tiny in comparison with their burgeoning frames? Given that they seemed to be putting on dozens of pounds of mass with even the slightest of exertions, this didn’t seem at all like a ridiculous notion; in fact, the more they worked towards it, the more within reach it appeared to be, especially after they became so large that actually moving from wherever they were became all-but impossible without completely destroying the very structure of their ascension site… though, surely, no one would mind, would they? To be able to witness as two new deities were born, to be there to watch as both Darius and Iris broke free of the bonds of mortal existence and became something more, something better, surely that would be the greatest privilege of them all, no? At least, that’s what those two were thinking whenever they flexed and ended up bulging their mass out by at least another yard; everyone else was either panicking, trying to run away from the disaster area (as if that would help), or learned better and collapsed to their knees, waiting for the inevitable moment where the two giants would break free of their concrete cocoon and emerge into the outside world for all to see and bask in their glory. From the outside, those few passers-by next to the gym were left wondering why people were running terrified from within, at least until they looked up and noticed the roof was beginning to cave… out? Something was definitely trying to push its way through it, something big and red and… another green thing? Poor little ones got maybe ten seconds in between the first emergence of their new gods’ heads and the whole place just exploding in a shower of debris that, were it not for the force of impact reducing most of the rubble to dust and plaster, would have injured most of those standing near. But Darius and Iris were merciful deities, and they wouldn’t want anything bad to come to those around them; after all, what were gods without worshippers? The whole point of becoming something divine was to be able to lord it over everyone else, or at least that’s what their adrenaline-infused brains were telling them at that point; and with bodies big enough to flatten cars into metal disks just by accidentally stepping on them, who was to tell them otherwise? Amazingly, the rings were still on, despite the fingers they were first stuck on being significantly larger than they had been before; neither of the two really paid much attention to that little fact, figuring it must be some sort of in-built function and then carrying on with their day, which, at their sizes, meant finding bigger things to pick up and flex their ability to hold. Mere weights benches and rep machines were no longer enough, not when them simply moving from place to place was enough of a strain on their physical avatars that it only led to more growth in every single direction; hell, they could just stand there and clench very muscle they had and it’d be enough to help them reach absurd sizes, but once more, that wasn’t enough. Neither the chameleon nor the Blaziken were in any way inclined towards taking the easy path; if they were going big, they were going big, and they were going to do it in the flashiest, most absurd and overblown way possible. Quite fortuitously, there just happened to be a large hill about half a mile south that was utterly devoid of any urban development, and while it used to make for a great view from the gym’s panoramic wall window, now that there was no gym, there was hardly any reason for there to be a hill there either. Best if they walk towards it then, filling the air with the sound of their bodies rubbing against themselves, each step resulting in so much motion, in so much leaking and rumbling and quaking, that even the last office workers finishing their shifts five miles away in the middle of the downtown area were starting to wonder if they had to sound an earthquake alarm. No such thing though; it was merely Darius and Iris’ bodies becoming so unfathomably massive from the sheer effort of existing that, by the time the two of them reached the hill itself, it looked positively puny in comparison to either of them. They didn’t really stop to think how in half a short mile they’d gone from building-sized to towering over the local geography, but was it even worth thinking about? Why not simply accept it and move on, like good deities should? No point wasting time thinking about the reason for their ascension when they could just ride the high and leave the questions for later, especially once their heads began to breach the lower cloud layers and they became ever-so-slightly woozy from the lack of oxygen… at least until the rings allowed their bodies to adapt and function without the pesky need for breathing; how were they supposed to lord over the planet if they couldn’t exist in space, after all? In fact, it seemed so close to them that the simple act of hopping into orbit was more instinctive than anything else, like it was meant to happen rather than it being a conscious choice; one moment they were still firmly on planet Earth, the next they were weightless and orbiting their new demesne, looking down at what were, effectively, almost seven billion souls waiting to be shown who their new gods were. The two spared a moment to look at one another and actually think about what had just happened in the past ten minutes or so, before shaking their heads, removing such useless thoughts from them, and turning their attention back to the tiny and becoming-tinier blue marble that they could… barely even notice, now that they looked back at it. The two gods looked at one another in a vain attempt at trying to make sense of what had just happened to them, part of their minds attempting to put the past half an hour or so into some semblance of order, only for it to become a jumbled mess of timelines and events which neither Darius nor Iris really knew if they actually happened or not. It was as if they were looking back not just at their own life history, but at every possibility they could’ve taken, a million different wavelengths that collapsed into one, singular reality that they now occupied… and kept occupying more of, given how quickly they were still growing. There was no doubt about it left, their bodies were still gaining mass even when they did nothing but float about in the emptiness of space, having become so unreasonably bulky and colossally muscular that the simple act of existing was enough to put such a strain on their physical forms that, well, they had to adapt to it. This was to say nothing of what happened if they actually tried moving; a simple brush with one arm led to such an enormous boost in size that said arm ended up completely dwarfing the rest of their body until the latter was equalized, not by siphoning mass from the overgrown limb, but by forcing the rest of their frames to bloat outwards to compensate, until all that anyone could see, were they to look at the Solar System from outside, were two titan taking up so much space that it eventually became inevitable that they’d have to bump into one another in some way. Neither of the two had ever done anything more than work out together, even after the point where their bodies began to bulk out in ways that would make it borderline unreasonable for there to not be some form of sexual attraction between them; and while it was undeniable that such thoughts occasionally crossed their minds, the chameleon and Blaziken duo mutually agreed that it’d be best for them not to go down that path, both for the sake of their burgeoning career and because doing so ran a significant risk of causing property damage once they became large enough to barely fit inside the gym to begin with. Now that they were outside though, now that the rings had empowered them to become something akin to gods… such excuses just didn’t cut it anymore. They might’ve been too busy ascending initially, but now that the hardest part was done and most of the space between Venus and Mars was taken up by their two bodies, then there wasn’t really any reasonable excuse they could use not to fully explore one another’s bodies in ways that only creatures as divine as themselves could. Well, apart from the fact that they were so divine; it took them a long while before they managed to adapt to their new reality, given that their initial growth spurt had left them so immensely oversized that they more resembled stellar-sized piles of bulging muscle mass than anything else; Iris even had her head sunken into the bulk of her neck, while Darius’ pecs had forced his head to always face up at a nearly ninety-degree angle. It was made worse by the fact that, even while they tried to regain control of their growth, they still kept expanding in every direction, filling up the cosmos around them and making it excruciatingly difficult for the duo to impose their own will upon their burgeoning forms. By the time they did so, halting their explosive inflation at around the same time, it was hard to tell just how big they were; as far as Darius could tell, the Oort Cloud was somewhere on one of his fingertips, and he was certain one of his feet had just invaded a globular cluster, with most of the stars around them having been reduced to small, twinkling lights that they had to squint to be able to look at properly. Still, at least they weren’t growing anymore… for now at least. Control had been re-established, and with it the two of them could work to reshape themselves into better, more perfect forms, replicas of what they had once been back on their homeworld, just on a much, much bigger scale. It came surprisingly easy to them once they started putting some effort into it, redistributing mass at speeds far beyond that which light could achieve, breaking every law of physics that they knew and pretty much all others that they didn’t, purely for the purpose of making themselves perfect. It was doubtful that anyone was watching; even if there was more life out there other than the one they had just snuffed out by virtue of (most likely) smashing Earth apart without even realizing it, the two of them were so immense that they probably blended into the background, or something similarly ridiculous. But they still had one another; and as soon as they were freed from the confines of their own bodies, and were allowed to gaze upon one another again, then the thought of showing off for the billions or trillions of souls that might be watching somewhere out there in the dark suddenly didn’t feel as important as it used to, not after what they saw when the proverbial dust settled. Darius had resolved the unfortunate issue of having his pecs bend his head into an uncomfortable position by giving himself the most powerful neck he could think of, a mega-mountain of raw muscle mass that would put the greatest of galactic formations to shame, hardened and glistening in the sunlight, the veins on its surface popping and bulging with each heartbeat, his head perched on the very top where it could look upon any corner of the cosmos without anything getting in its way. Not that this meant his pectoral muscles were any smaller; if anything, now that he had such an immensely bulky neck and similarly-oversized broad set of shoulders, the Blaziken could allow his pecs to bulge out, not just filling with more sinew and raw flesh, but also engorging with additional milk glands, managing to puff them up and fill them several million times past capacity while his nipples were stuck perpetually dripping the excess productivity (and by dripping, one must of course imagine a galaxy’s worth of mass being jettisoned at FTL speeds every second or so). The rest of his body adhered to much of the same aesthetic, with his arms in particular framing his physical avatar of perfection in a way that made even his titanic torso look average by comparison, the occasional blood vessels visible on his biceps alone being thicker than the Milky Way could ever hope to be, to say nothing of the biceps themselves, which could probably wreck entire galactic clusters just by being flexed gently. Below the waist, it was actually impressive how anything could take away from those pillars of power that were his legs, but hardly anything could compete with Darius’ brand new package: a cock long enough that he couldn’t even see all of it, and six nuts so stuffed, so full, so impossibly vast, that they effectively became the “down” whenever he looked in that general direction. Somewhere out there, in the great distance where his tip was, entire universal masses were being shot out, bubbling from his cock as the precum of his glorious new form. It was only then that he realized he wasn’t even inside the Milky Way anymore; he’d been so busy reshaping himself that he failed to notice that he’d outgrown entire galaxies just in the process of perfecting his physical form… just like Iris had. The chameleon opted for a completely different approach when it came to transforming herself, opting not to push her head upwards, but instead to allow it to remain subsumed by the neck overgrown around it. To compensate, or perhaps because she couldn’t see properly and thus resolved to just let loose completely, she had become… larger than Darius. Quite a bit larger, in fact, so much larger that it took the Blaziken a few moments to realize that, when he looked aside and saw Iris, he wasn’t seeing her body, nor any real “part” of it, but instead what it had become: the background. Somehow, Iris had completely surpassed even his expectations and became so unbelievably, unthinkably massive that the very backdrop of existence was now the same colour as her skin… and it took even longer before Darius focused properly and noticed that it still wasn’t her skin he was seeing all around him, taking up reality as he knew it. It was a single pore. And in the time it took for him to realize that, he was staring at a fraction of its curvature instead, consuming everything that was. Somewhere in the distance, Goddess Iris had become everything, or at least their reality’s version of everything. Were she to move, the universe would move with her, for she had become the fabric of existence itself, down to the smallest atom, up to the greatest arch-structures holding everything together. She saw everything, she knew everything, and she was everything, apotheosis achieved in a way that even she couldn’t quite fathom it; she was a goddess, something that made even Darius look puny by comparison, a creature of such incomprehensible might that it left her giggling when she recalled thinking they were gods before. How could they have been so blind? They were naught but children playing in the sand, believing themselves deities just because they were bigger… but now? Now Iris knew for a fact what it was like to be divine, to become greater than existence itself, to have crafted for herself a body so powerful that, were she to bring a single finger down on the surface of her breasts, each one being large enough to store trillions upon quadrillions of universes inside of them, the ensuing gush of cream would put the birth of time to shame in just how much mass it create. The first drop of the first spurt, nay, the very tip of the droplet alone would outsize the multiverses and timelines surrounding her, collapsing into her, feeding into her, and just as that thought was formulated, it became obsolete; that tiny speck of a droplet was about as small compared to the next one as an atom was compared to Iris in her full glory, because she was still growing. Each moment that she existed, everything was destroyed and remade, everything was reshaped to fit her, everything was rebirthed that it may better serve Goddess Iris, that it may adore her, adulate her, sing praises upon her, make her grow larger, faster, bigger, beyond even immortal ken. And all of this every second, every moment, until even Darius couldn’t see her anymore. He was alone, left behind by a creature so impossibly perfect that she couldn’t be contained by a single reality. At least until he felt her touch him. A single drop of Iris’ power was enough to give Darius the knowledge he needed to match her. It was an absolute, not a continuum; simply being aware of what it was like to be like her was itself enough of a revelation to force his body and mind to ascend to the same level, at which point concepts like size or productivity or muscles seemed… meaningless. As if everything that had motivated them in past suddenly lost any and all inherent value, because nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to raw ecstasy of existing in that state, every moment of every instant of every femtosecond of every timeline in existence, stacked together in ways that Darius chose not to consider, lest even his divine mind implode upon itself from the strain. He was vaguely aware of his consort, Iris, standing (?) next to him in the not-void that was everything and nothing, her mere presence creating countless existences as it kept on pushing the boundaries of whatever counted as the “outside” of reality. He was vaguely aware of himself, his eyes no longer capable of observing and seeing things the way they used to; everything was a metaphor, in a way, a state of superposition where it was both physical and more than that, where he could both sink his hands into a pair of tits that he literally did not possess the brainpower required to comprehend while recognizing they weren’t really there in the same way a cluster of universes might be. They had both transcended physicality, but could tap into it if needed, and given that their libidos were still just as active as they had been before, they had plenty of reasons to do so at every possible opportunity. Thus they existed, forever and a little while more, adrift in a plane of being in which they could experience an eternity in a moment, and a second could last for several infinities, time having become as much of a plaything as everything else had. The two experimented so often that it stopped meaning anything, with body shapes and sizes that would leave the greatest of divine thinkers scratching their eyes out trying to math out or comprehend, and did so as a matter of course, not even thinking about the consequences of their actions. Entire civilizations could exist, rising and falling in the span of time between one sound and the next in one of the two gods’ words, just as whole multiversal clusters could pop into being, live out their lives and vanish into this odd aether in the time it took for the two gods to climax a single time. Or, if they so desired, they could observe the motion of atoms inside a single drop of water in the smallest of planets orbiting the smallest of suns in just the right place for life to flourish, and everything else in between. Existence had become an interactive diorama for them to play with, to toy with and manipulate in just the right way to satisfy their curiosity. And still they grew. In fact, they grew so much that to put it into words would require the invention of a brand new language composed entirely out of stacked, multiplicative synonyms meant solely to describe their rate of ascension. Still they grew in ways that strained reality, until they snapped their fingers and simply made reality abide by their wishes. Still they grew, until they grew bored, and resolved to start over again, to begin anew and experience the joys of ascension for the second time, that they may begin a brand new, eternally recurring cycle. After all, even assuming those rings worked at all, Darius had his doubts that they would really do much at all.

Every morning, Elizabeth got up at seven AM sharp to empty out what she’d produced during the night, and every morning, the amount increased by just enough that both herself and Shrapnel were very unsubtly reminded that they needed to purchase another extension to their drainage system. The two of them still remembered the good old days, when all they needed was a single basement full of high-pressure holding tanks, rather than their own sewage main linked directly to a dairy factory several miles away; those were the best times, when the amount of cream that Liz output was still in the four digits, rather than the seven she had recently reached. Granted, as far as the serval was concerned, having to output a few million gallons of milk every morning wasn’t the worst part; no, that honour went to having to go to bed at about eleven PM the previous night just so she’d have enough time to drain herself on time for the shift at the dairy plant to start, even if her only connection to it was the paycheck at the end of the month. At least it let her work from home… to a certain extent. It was hardly “work”, in the sense that she didn’t really do anything other than what was already mandatory; it wasn’t as if she could decide to not milk herself, unless of course she wanted her house to explode from the poorly-contained energy in her milky mammaries. Still, it was good to be compensated for the inconvenience; plus, said compensation was good enough that she could afford to spend a good chunk of cchange on whatever form of entertainment she most fancied at any given point, which made the long hours alone at home that much more bearable. For no matter how much the two of them would’ve liked for her contributions to be enough to take care of all expenses, Elizabeth just wasn’t quite there yet; if her physicians’ projections were correct, she would reach a state where the amount of milk produced by her bust was enough that the dairy plant’s salary would be high enough that Shrapnel wouldn’t have to work a single more day in his life… but, alas, until that day came, the wolf had to leave the home for an ungodly nine hours just so he could buffer up their income to keep the couple from going into red. As a result, he too had to make use of the draining system, since installing two of them would’ve been both prohibitively expensive and outright impossible to maintain, given how little space under the house there already was; thus, the way the construction company figured would be best was via a dual-output system: the couple would keep the vast underground containment tanks, but those would be reserved for Shrapnel only; via a simple setting on the milking pump itself, the couple could choose where the drained cream would go, either towards the dairy plant, or back down to storage, allowing them to use the same machine with relatively minor cleaning required after Shrapnel got done using it. Just to make it even simpler on them, he made sure to always go second, minimizing the risk of any contaminants arriving at the factory and potentially jeopardizing their main source of income. Plus, it gave him time to rest with the whole bed for himself; as much it was heavenly to be able to wake up with a pair of tits the size of a bus next to him every morning, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to just have a bed, an actual, proper mattress without the overbearing presence of two colossal milktanks capable of crushing him if not for the ceiling-mounted rail system keeping them nice and upright… or at least as upright as they could be. After all, he had enough troubles of his own with his package being about as well-developed as his partner’s bust; and unlike her, he didn’t have a dozen buyers all desperately lined up in front of him for a chance to use his seed. Quite the contrary, as he’d effectively ran out of sperm banks to donate to, with none for several hundred miles accepting any further contributions until their “stock” was used up; given how much he sold, Shrapnel calculated this would take anywhere from a couple of years to two decades or so, closing off that particular avenue. For the time being, both him and Elizabeth both agreed they were better off simply disposing of the holding tanks’ contents periodically, which they had just done the previous day; for Shrapnel, it was a dumb opportunity to feel like the occasion mattered, like he was “breaking in” a new set, despite them being the exact same metal containers after being given a good rinse. Unbeknownst to both of them though, there was indeed something special about that day; or rather, something out of the ordinary that had been inherited from the day prior. Normally, as per the safety protocol, both of them were supposed to check that the draining system was set away from the holding tanks immediately after installing, whenever they were returned from cleaning; since this usually happened after that day’s draining anyway, it meant the pumps were ready for the next morning’s milking whenever Elizabeth got up, minimizing the risk of them accidentally crossing streams. While this was nothing short of sensible, it was one thing for the instruction manual to tell them to do something, and quite another for the couple, tired as they were of moving metal tanks from one side to another, to give a rat’s ass about safety protocol. After an already long day where Shrapnel got held up at work and Liz spent most of her time filing taxes with a calculator that insisted on malfunctioning every other minute, neither of them had the patience to check properly; hence, when the wolf asked the serval if they put “the thing” on “the right spot”, Elizabeth nodded and promptly splatted onto bed, a second or two passing before she began snoring loudly… and, quite coincidentally, leaving Shrapnel to attach her tits to the ceiling rails so they wouldn’t crush the both of them with their overnight filling. When the day dawned, the two of them were far too stuffed to care about anything other than emptying out; Elizabeth in particular just wanted to milk herself down to size and get ready for another several hours of her actually doing nothing productive, while Shrapnel did his best to ignore the mounting pressure between his legs. What neither of them knew, however, was that the control panel attached to the draining pumps had been set to direct the flow towards the holding tanks rather than the primary line, meaning that Liz had to work extra hard to ignore the weird noises that sounded suspiciously like her milk filling up the metallic containers underneath her feet. It was fine, she told herself, probably just something with the pipes and the cold and whatever else meant she didn’t need to worry about anything; after she was done, a good thirty or so minutes later, the serval removed herself from the wall-mounted pump and called out for Shrapnel to take his turn, hitting a right-facing arrow on the electronic panel. Normally, this would change it from the primary dairy line to the holding tanks; with the latter option already selected, however, that simple gesture instead cycled the machinery to a mostly unused function: reverse. It was there because it had to be; most people who bought that kind of milking system didn’t need a small convoy of trucks just to get their produce out, so instead they merely turned the pumps in the opposite direction and filled canisters at their leisure for further disposal. Neither Shrapnel nor Elizabeth could make use of this, hence why they just skipped that option and went right back to the primary dairy pipes… but of course, Shrapnel was tired, he was stuffed, his nuts were so large that he had to drag them behind him, and he just wanted some relief. Thus, when he got in place and thrust his cock into the milking pump, he didn’t bother checking whether the setting was the correct one; he just turned the machine on. Shrapnel had maybe a second or two to realize something was wrong. Typically, the way it worked was the pump locked itself around his dick, pressed firmly on it, and then began draining him dry by means of mechanical action; he preferred to think of it in those terms, since any others would probably leave him too hard to fit into the damned thing to begin with. The important part was that it was meant to suck, not just stand there and do nothing as it whirred to life, leaving the wolf wondering if some component had been rattled out of place, or the electrical wiring was keeping it undersupplied. It wasn’t until he heard the sounds of fluid gushing towards him that he realized what had happened, just before his eyes focused on the control panel, saw what was actually on it, and then he had no more time left before disaster hit. Poor guy didn’t even have the opportunity to lift his arm towards the button, keeping it locked in place midway through the motion in a suitably dramatic fashion; instead, a deluge of milk slammed into him, the thick and heavy cream not so much filling the tube he had his cock in, before everything in it as well: namely, his cock. The base of it was too tightly gripped; it was the closest thing to a vacuum seal in the entire contraption, designed to keep any excess fluid from spilling out of the pump assembly; in normal circumstances, an absolute godsend, even if said pump was installed over the bathtub just in case. In that particular instance, however? Shrapnel could do little but curse his luck as he wished the damned thing would relieve the pressure by opening up just enough that the milk flood had somewhere else to go, but with the bloody assembly refusing to budge, and the pumps working overtime to reverse the flow, there was only one way the milk could go: in. The worst part was that Shrapnel lacked the ability to control it; much as he would’ve liked to close up and not let anything in, he was far too big for that to be the case, leading to his cocktip swelling as it accepted a hefty dose of cream, which only led to more of Elizabeth’s milk flowing into him, thus creating more bloating, etcetera in such a quick escalation that the whole wall began to tremble. There was one sound in the air now: the rumbling of piping, the shaking of metal as the entire pump system began to buckle and bend under the abnormal circumstances it had just been placed under, prompting Elizabeth to ask if everything was alright; Shrapnel would’ve loved to answer, but alas, he was slightly too concerned with his dick having been turned into a conduit through which his beloved’s lactic bliss began to pour into his nuts, an abnormality of anatomy on a level that he really, really didn’t want to think about. Not that he could, given what sort of stimulation it was providing for him; much as his rational side insisted he shouldn’t be deriving any pleasure from it, it was hard to deny that having his balls stuffed in such a manner was anything other than divine, enough so that Shrapnel’s first reaction was to open his mouth and let his tongue loll out, slobbering all over himself as his muscles went limp for a few moments. He could’ve stayed that way all day: linked to the pump, unable to move, feeling as his sack bloated with every whirr of the machine in front of him, pressure rising as the cream worked in mysterious ways with his unique hyper physiology to help his nuts overproduce even more than they already did. It was a disaster in the making, and yet Shrapnel couldn’t bring himself to stop it, nor indeed care enough to want to stop it; why should he, when it just felt so… right? Even when his nuts slammed against the back wall, definitely alerting Elizabeth to the fact something was definitely wrong in the bathroom, the wolf couldn’t force himself to get up and leave; it was entirely within his power, given all he had to do was turn the pump off with the press of a single button, but to do so would mean to deprive himself of the glorious sensations that came with having countless gallons of milk pressurized into him through the single most sensitive part of his body. Frankly, he could only wonder why he hadn’t tried that before; it was positively rapturous, even if the sound of cracking ceramic should’ve alerted him to the fact that he was rapidly outgrowing the bathroom itself. Once more, however, he couldn’t care; just as long as he was still given that sweet embrace of warm dairy, Shrapnel wasn’t going to do anything to make it stop… forcing Liz to try and do so herself. The noises coming from the bathroom were not normal, that much she was aware of, and for all the serval knew, there could’ve been some sort of accident that knocked poor Shrapnel out; if that was the case, it was her duty to make sure he was safe, rather than staying in the living room wondering what game she should play only to then have the whole house flooded with cum… again. She learned it the hard way the first time around, she wasn’t about to spend another week rinsing spunk off the walls (and ceiling), so with great difficulty, the serval heaved herself off the couch and began the arduous walk back to the bathroom, grumbling all the while. It was just her luck that Shrapnel had to have broken the damned machine that day, right when she wanted to relax the most; hell, the problem was probably easily fixable and the idiot wolf was just too horny to think about it, exactly like the last time. It wasn’t until she squeezed through to the hallway and then pulled the door open that Elizabeth was made privy to what the truth actually was; it wasn’t until she saw her beloved, looking incredibly undersized compared to a pair of balls that took up most of the bathroom on their own, that she stopped to think that maybe the problem was bigger than anticipated. And it wasn’t until she saw Shrapnel’s face, contorted into a mindless display of raw, animalistic bliss, that she knew the two of them were utterly fucked; that wasn’t the face of someone who knew when to stop… or slow down. Or even think about anything at all at that point. That was, without mistake, the look of someone who had precisely zero thoughts inside a brain that was little more than one hundred percent pleasure center by weight, whose neural pathways had been completely corrupted and subverted purely so that said brain could process all the sensory information it was being fed without being overloaded and flooded in serotonin. Of course, it flooded itself anyway, so that was a bust; even if the process was stopped the moment Elizabeth walked into the bathroom, it was doubtful Shrapnel would’ve been able to come out of it the same person as before, at least without several days of rest so his mind could reboot properly. Alas, starting over wasn’t really an option, as by the time Liz did see what was happening, there wasn’t enough empty space in the bathroom for her to use; granted, there usually wasn’t even when no one else was in there, but at least she could’ve tried to squeeze inside and force the wolf out of the draining pumps, if most of the room within wasn’t almost completely covered in either cockmeat or nutflesh… suspiciously sloshy nutflesh, now that she thought about it, now that her own brain put the puzzle pieces together and a horrible realization dawned within. Really should’ve doublechecked the previous night; they were about to pay dearly for their lackluster concern for proper safety protocols. “Shrap!” she called out, desperate for literally anything that might serve to defuse the situation, “Please, listen to me, you need to turn the machine off! You need to turn it off!” Hopeless. How idiotic of her to assume that Shrapnel even had the ability to understand speech anymore. Poor guy just looked back at her with a vacant stare, as if part of him remembered that he was supposed to stare back at someone when they addressed him, even if nothing else of basic etiquette remained. Certainly not speech, certainly not the capacity to process language in any form; only pleasure, and the experiencing thereof, fueled by a near-endless supply of thick cream that only became thicker the more his own cock grew within the tight and tightening confines of the milking machine. Wouldn’t take much longer before it broke apart from the inside out, but until that happened, he was going to ride that high for as long as the world let him, even if he couldn’t think in even such simplistic terms. For Liz, this was her one warning to get the hell out of dodge while she still had the chance; one she refused, as that would make her a poor partner indeed if she abandoned her better half when they needed her the most. Not that she could do anything, but at least by standing around, panicking, and occasionally trying to pull Shrapnel away from the impending disaster area, she could rationalize it as her “doing something”, even if it accomplished very little. It was just a countdown, really, to the serval running towards the kitchen to grab the phone and call up the emergency services, hoping perhaps they’d have some sort of miracle cure for a hyper’s hyper being out of control, all while trying her damned best not to think about what an opportunity this was. After all, the two of them rarely got to go full out since the last time she had a “little incident”; the city was still paying for repairs after the flood, and her body was never quite the same since, hence the need for such an expensive milking apparatus and dedicated drainage system for their house. As a result, herself and Shrapnel had to contend with what were, effectively, table scraps; more than most people would ever experience in their lives, sure, but still nothing compared to the heights of pleasure they could achieve if they actually put their minds to it. Hell, her body was only as restricted and small as it was because she consciously made an effort to keep herself manageable, and that still left her big enough to need rails mounted on the ceiling if she ever wanted to be able to walk without dragging her tits, and half the house, in front of her. So for Elizabeth to see Shrapnel the way that he was, lacking any sort of inhibitions about fulfilling his innermost desires, was… difficult. She wanted to jump on him, wanted to make good use of that opening to get railed properly for the first time in heavens knew how long, but had that pesky little voice in the back of her head telling her that this was, somehow, “wrong”; that she wasn’t “supposed” to do it, that the results would be “catastrophic”, that “other people” might take umbrage at the sight, sound, smell and feel of a couple of burgeoning giants with no regard for their own personal safety, let alone that of others. It was an annoyingly loud voice, very hard to ignore; usually, Liz would down half a bottle of gin to get it to go away before doing something very stupid with her stud, but alas, she had no more Sturdy’s left in the house after the last time (doctor’s orders, though hardly for the sake of her liver). What was left was a feline split down the middle, with one half tugging away at her, begging for the serval to run from the scene and call for help, and the other desperate for a shot at a proper filling. It was a battle with a foregone outcome, but one that Liz insisted on fighting regardless; it always felt better when she could pretend like there had ever been a choice, rather than her carnal side being guaranteed to win like it always did. It was part of the narrative, part of the story, the idea that she had agency she could employ, but chose not to; indeed, at times it was hard to tell whether or not that was actually true, whether the couple was so far gone into their own unique realm of sexual apotheosis that it was outright impossible to try and explain anything they did via conventional means. All that Elizabeth knew was that she had an empty belly with enough space in it that it could use a good stuffing, a fat-cocked and heavy-balled stud of a wolf in the bathroom next to her, and a serious need for something long and hard between her legs; granted, this last one was going to need Shrapnel to break through the pumps, but given the noises coming out of the walls, this was bound to happen sooner rather than later. Indeed, all Liz had time for was to turn her substantially-sized ass towards the door and then lean forward, offering the pinned wolf a target to aim for, before the entire section of the bathroom wall around the pumping port collapsed; it didn’t implode, it didn’t explode, it merely ceased to be in a way that looked more like someone had toppled a house of cards. With the grinding of metal and the cracking of ceramic, Shrapnel was finally free, his immense shaft unseen by the serval, who insisted on looking straight ahead at her cleavage, and absolutely nothing and nowhere else. She still felt it; still sensed the approach, with the warmth and heft of her lover’s cock being so familiar to her that her form almost reacted instinctively, moving towards it ever so gently. She wasn’t thinking about what her milk had done to her lover; gods above only knew what sort of unholy concoction was roiling around inside the wolf’s nuts now that he’d received such a plentiful infusion of cream. But she didn’t have to think, was the best part; all that was needed of her were her knees, bent, her voice, ready to crack, and her plump lower lips, dripping and eager for a filling. For Shrapnel, by that point operating entirely off primal animal instinct, this was what he needed to know where to direct himself; anything less and he might’ve hurt himself in his confusion as he tried to find someone to rut. With such a wonderful, plump bottom there for him to sink his hands into, however, there was little doubt in the wolf’s mind of where he was meant to go, where he was meant to stick that tree-sized rod of his; thus, with a moan that would shake the very neighborhood to the core, Shrapnel moved forward a single step. The moan, of course, came not from him, but from the lucky little serval who had just felt the very tip of her lover’s dick enter her body, already far more than the vast majority of furkind would dream of being able to take. A fraction of Shrapnel’s full potential, and it was already obscenely excessive… so he took another step, stretching the serval’s form already, forcing it to wrap itself around the contours of the colossal pillar of cockmeat. Another step, and Elizabeth moaned yet again, that time around less of a throaty noise and more something resembling the call of an eldritch being of pure lust whose eternal need for sexual gratification had just been satisfied in an instant. Yet another, and the wolf finally found some resistance, and from an odd source as well: he was too big. He couldn’t actually bottom out inside Liz, because her body wasn’t big enough for the kind of rod he was sporting… at least, not without some ample lubrication and plenty of proverbial elbow grease. She’d taken larger sizes before; the fact that most of her torso was cock-shaped already hardly mattered when there were plenty of occasions where her body weight was majorly Shrapnel’s by technical definition. Indeed, there were no complaints coming from Liz’s direction; funnily enough, it was precisely when the wolf stopped momentarily to get his bearings that he heard the serval loudly ask him why he had stopped, and why he wasn’t stuffing her even harder, driving the poor guy to keep moving forward in the hopes of finally sinking his hands into that plush ass properly. It was his goal, his prize; if he could bottom out, then he didn’t need to pull out completely in order to rut the serval. He could make do with merely moving a couple of feet of cock while still keeping most of himself attached to a rotund rear of such perfect plushness that just thinking about it left him even loopier than before, even if it still served as an anchor point. So he kept walking; he kept moving, even when it required far more energy to do so, even when he could feel Elizabeth’s form being forcefully stretched out around his length, the serval’s cries the only thing letting him know that she was enjoying the experience even more than he was. He’d eventually reach a point where he was actually all the way over to his lover’s tits… in a certain way; it was a novel experience, being able to receive a titfuck while still inside the serval, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when the sensations being fed through his spinal cord were powerful enough to nearly floor him. There was a lot of energy behind each motion, and most of it was wasted in just keeping it going; if at any point Shrapnel stopped burning through thousands of calories just to remain conscious, there was a good chance he might just pass out from overstimulation. Thankfully, he had plenty of reserves left after the stuffing he received, courtesy of the not-so-defective draining system; while he wasn’t exactly sure how he could use Liz’s milk to keep feeding his body’s necessary systems, given that it was mostly stuck in his nuts, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth either. So he kept going, until eventually, with one final, supremely wet thwap, he reached it: the end. Bottomed out fully, hilted inside the serval, with the tip of his cock several feet beyond where even Liz’s cleavage ended, skewering through her entire form and leaving her looking more like an oversized, fuzzy condom around his length than anything else, albeit one with a stupendously oversized pair of tits, and an ass wide enough to that it was only slightly parted by the towering cock stuck between its cheeks. Normally, this would be the first step (and, to a certain extent, it sort of was): in order for a rutting to begin, typically, there needed to be someone inside someone else, at least if a breeding was the one goal in mind. It was only the start, at least for the vast majority of couples living on the planet; for Shrapnel and Liz, however, it was a long, arduous process that itself led to the very first of what would be a great many climaxes. It did, after all, involve the wolf taking a dick too big for any mortal body to withstand and then successfully shoving it fully into Elizabeth, who despite being turned into a cumblimp in the process, still begged for more at every step of the way. Was it any surprise, then, that this was often enough to get both of them to fly over the edge and experience orgasm without any further stimulation required? They certainly didn’t seem to think so, especially when that morning’s first filling was so deliciously overblown that, before Liz could even begin to regret her actions, her belly had already taken a good half of the living room in front of her, after successfully blowing through multiple walls in order to do so. It was normal, at least for them, which only made it somewhat surprising that, instead of having to wait a few seconds for Shrapnel’s refractory period to be done, the wolf instead merely bucked his hips immediately after, dumping yet another load inside of the serval’s body, one that managed to find its way to her curves that time around: a bloating of the tits, big enough that each one filled their entire house (and thus had to break through what remained of its structure, reducing it to detritus and bits of floating timber); a fattening of the ass, of such a magnitude that Shrapnel himself was buried beneath a rump of almost supernatural softness. And yet, he still wasn’t done; the combination of his seed with Elizabeth’s highly energetic cream had gifted him with the extra boost of energy needed to simply obliterate whatever waiting period there had been between individual loads, something Liz herself was about to become deeply acquainted with. A third climax, and there was her belly, bigger than the rest of her combined, barrelling over a couple of houses; there was a fourth, and each nipple alone outsized what Elizabeth had been just moments before. There was a fifth, and she could be seen over the horizon. It wasn’t going to stop. Not “any time soon” either… just, never. Shrapnel didn’t want it to stop. So why should it?

Some would think that a drider taking up the profession of blacksmith, inside of a cave no less, would be quite the odd thing. For Spindra, however, the calling had always been the most natural thing in the world, and if not for the fact that most of her life up until that point had been spent searching for her parents, she would’ve been able to impose herself a lot more on the market. As it stood, however, having access to two pairs of “hands” to help around the smithy, in addition to her gifted master training her to be at least half as good as they were, naturally meant that anything she produced would be of the utmost highest quality, as not only was she incredibly gifted in the art of smithing, but the amount of care and dedication poured into every piece ensured its quality would always be unbeatable. Unfortunately, it did mean that very few people could afford to buy what she made, meaning that her dreams of owning her very own establishment in a big city were dashed before they even began; while disappointing, she at least had the satisfaction of knowing that whenever a great beast was slain or a grand tourney was concluded, most of the time word spread that ​she​ had been the one to create the blade that had won the day, and so, while still nothing compared to a more traditional business, the drider still had a steady trickle of customers. Meanwhile, the complex network of tunnels and narrow passages below her feet had been the best source of metallurgical materials Spindra could have ever hoped for. High-quality iron and absurd quantities of flux and coal ensured her ability to create the best steel around, while a wealth of other minerals allowed her to take on side-projects whenever she felt particularly inspired, like that life-sized electrum statue of the local governor. Fetched her a pretty penny, even if it took three days just to move it down to the base of the mountain. On occasion, Spindra would need to delve into the depths in order to replenish her stock. Armed with naught but a pickaxe, a cart and her trusty hammer, the rail system had grown to become utterly incomprehensible to anyone but her, with a series of levers and junctions making it all-but impossible to navigate unless one had a chart or a guide. As far as the l drider cared, this was pretty much the point; making it that hard to run off with any materials meant she had exclusive rights to exploit them to her leisure, and seeing as the veins dove deep into the earth, there was no end in sight to her operation. The day it all changed was one where Spindra decided to break into a new section she had been meaning to explore for some time. Initial surveying revealed to her that behind one of the walls in section five was a massive open chamber, most likely accessible from the surface in the past prior to a cave-in or two. Hoping it would give her easy access to even more iron, seeing as she had recently been given an order for a set of swords meant for an entire company of knights-errant, Spindra eagerly went to work tearing the rock down. Thinking it’d take her the better part of a day before breaking through to the other side, the drider was surprised to see her pick hit nothing but air after just half an hour of digging, revealing not only that the wall was unnaturally thin, but that the chamber was significantly closer to her than she initially believed. The place itself was eerie and made her feel uncomfortable, enough that Spindra realized that something out of the ordinary was at work there. She was no stranger to curses or hexes, especially those placed on weapons, but she had to admit that a cursed ​location​ was far above her ability to deal with; for a few brief moments, the young woman began to worry that her entire smithing operation was about to be dismantled by some kind of unseen horror, and that her greed had finally gotten the better of her. Even though the feeling of unease remained though, no such beast reared its (presumably) ugly head, leaving Spindra to stare at a dark patch of nothing that seemed to taunt her with how devoid of anything it was. Tightening the grip on her pickaxe until her knuckles turned as pale as paper, she knocked down enough of the stone wall to make a passage for herself, carefully stepping into the wide-open sub-cave and having a look around. On the surface, it looked exactly the same as other chambers she had found even deeper down. A few veins of malachite and hematite were just barely visible on the walls, whereas coal deposits lined the floor in… what appeared to be geometric patterns. Spindra was so taken aback by this sudden realization that she didn’t even notice those seams all led to the very center of the empty chamber, whereupon lay a smooth, black stone altar. Her body froze, the knowledge that she’d just barged into a place of power being enough to leave her unable to react adequately beyond just freezing in place; Spindra had heard rumours of such locations, of forgotten places of worship left behind by civilizations which had long-since perished, who obeyed the whims of creatures unknowable to the modern sensibilities of today’s sentients. On occasion, an expedition would run into one of these places, often hidden deep beneath the ground, before unleashing some kind of ancient horror and leaving behind one or two survivors who were utterly convinced they were allowed to escape purely so they could spread the word. All of this and more went through Spindra’s head as she walked forward; there was no turning back now, not after exposing the altar itself. Either the whole thing activated and she’d end up dying a horrible death, or her day would be the luckiest ever when it turned out it was entirely inert. The structure itself was so innocuous-looking that Spindra ​had​ to feel suspicious about it. Yes, it was perfectly smooth and polished, built entirely out of what appeared to be extra-blackened basalt, and even after gods know how long underneath the ground it still retained enough of its sheen that the drider could see her reflection on it; whoever built it clearly wanted it to last. It was embedded into the ground, with a perfectly circular base engraved with multiple runes, all of which were seemingly made out of the very coal seams leading into it. A small pillar emerged from the center, leading up to a smooth, stone bowl. It was obviously meant for some kind of offering, though for what Spindra didn’t really know. Clearly not for any sacrifices, as it lacked any adequate platform to cut off someone’s heart, and the bowl was positively tiny, just big enough that she could place her hand in it and have it barely fit. ​Why​ she felt like doing that was anyone’s guess, since everyone knew the last thing you should do is taunt something that might be cursed, and true to common wisdom, the punishment was swift and… surprisingly painless. Smooth as the stone was, the edge of the bowl was still incredibly sharp, and even grazing it gently was enough to cut one of the smith’s fingers. Accustomed to injury as she was, Spindra didn’t think too much of it… at least until the drop of blood hit the bowl and the whole thing began to glow ominously, giving off enough light for her to have to close her eyes. It was like being outside, enough that her body began to feel uncomfortably hot, and if not for the fact that she had her pickaxe with her, Spindra would’ve just turned around and bolted out of there, even if it wouldn’t have really helped her. The edges of the altar’s base began to shake, dust and crumbles of dirt flying upwards as the whole structure began to sink into the ground, leaving behind a perfectly circular, pitch-black hole that seemed to be made out of solid darkness. Peering into it, the flower girl couldn’t even see the altar, even though its light had been perfectly visible just moments before. Certain that something was about to emerge from that “portal”, she took a few steps backwards, and thank goodness she did, because a pair of clawed hands appeared from the shadows right after she decided to keep her distance! After the hands came their arms, then a pair of horns attached to a head carrying a luxurious mane of black hair. A pale face came right afterwards, then a completely nude torso carrying a pair of assets that made even the reasonably-endowed smith feel a pang of jealousy. Flared hips and a shapely pair of legs later, and the creature was fully visible: a succubus. Of all the things that could’ve come out of that hole, Spindra did not expect a demon of such low order like that to be one of them. Succubi, despite their penchant for having hordes of lovers ready to stand up for them, were rarely seen as anything more than an occasional nuisance, and more often than not were relegated to whorehouse duty or the occasional “escort” job. So, for one of ​those things​ to come out of the ancient altar, rather than some unspeakable horror that shattered her mind just from existing around her… was kind of disappointing, to be quite honest. That said, once the smith got past the initial impact, it became quite evident that this was no ordinary succubus she was dealing with, and that realization hit her so hard that her whole hands nearly turned white with how hard they were clinging onto her pick’s handle. This creature wasn’t just a human with horns and some vestigial wings, but a full-blown demonic monster; their body was warped and twisted in odd ways, appearing perfectly humanoid in one moment and everything ​but​ in the other. Its leathery wings were wide, spreading halfway between one of the cavern’s walls and the one opposite, while its very presence seemed to exude some kind of low, subsonic thrumming that made all of Spindra’s body feel like it was being rattled into pieces from the inside out. It looked at her, smiling a terrible smile that revealed a forked tongue and a set of incredibly sharp teeth, thus revealing its true nature: this was no succubus, but a succubus ​queen​, a creature of legend said to emerge from the darkest pits of hell only when its weaker daughters amassed enough of a following. The last time one of those damned things dared to show its face had been nearly a hundred years before, and it took over three duchies and countless border counties before finally being stopped by the combined force of all the king’s men. What hope did Spindra have with a ​single pickaxe?​ Thankfully, or not so, the monster decided to speak up rather than hurting her. It was hard to tell what it was “saying”, as its “speech” was demonic in nature, and thus just as much thought and intention as it was words and sounds. Spindra could see it, twisting the air in front of her while wrapping around her head, violating her ears as much as it was every other sense. The drider could taste the verbs and feel the adjectives, sense the nouns in the back of her head like her barely-used intuition. In the end, though, the message was clear: the queen was happy to have been released after aeons of imprisonment, and as a reward, ​wouldn’t​ immediately kill and consume Spindra for nourishment. She would, however, fly out of the chamber and head to the outside world, leaving the smith to panic about what kind of evil she had just unleashed upon everyone else. Unbeknownst to her, this succubus had no desire to rule or dominate lesser royalty for the sake of creating her own kingdom; no, after so long without any kind of sustenance, forced to watch nothing but the slow motion of the planet around her, this monster wanted to ​eat something.​ Or someone. Or both, really, she wasn’t picky; as long as it was organic in nature and happened to have a soul she could snack on, she was happy to take it over and savour its pain and misery, themselves just as delicious as any piece of meat could be… and with a village right there on the edge of the woods, she knew exactly where she was going to go first! Meanwhile, Spindra was left to flail about and whimper loudly, cursing herself for having been so stupid as to actually ​touch​ the bloody altar. Better to have taken her pickaxe to it and broken it into pieces before it could do any more harm! Hindsight, hindsight! She needed to focus on what to do, any kind of solution that could be feasibly implemented. There was no way she was going to kill that succubus, not even with her best blade; the creature itself was powerful enough that any magical wards would be utterly useless, not to mention that its actual, physical power would surpass that of any mortal that could hope to take it down. Without access to the king’s court to ask for help, all that Spindra could think was analyzing the runes on the altar, hoping that her meagre knowledge of magic would help her find a clue or two. That said, the bloody thing was still inside the hole, and the blackness hadn’t gone away. Fully convinced that it would cut off her arm (or corrupt it, or something worse, who knows?), she knelt by the “opening” and took several deep breaths before placing the pickaxe by her side and bending down, reaching into the pit. As was expected, her hand vanished from sight after touching the solid darkness in front of her, though mercifully it didn’t feel any different from just moving it through the air. A few inches below it, the plant girl felt the bowl, and against her better judgement, tried to pull it up, succeeding only in cutting herself again. With the altar activating and the pit revealing itself after dispelling the murky shadows, Spindra was convinced that she had just somehow summoned yet ​another​ succubus queen, and this time they wouldn’t be so merciful as to leave her alone! But… no, what ended up materializing in thin air was not a creature of endless lust and desire… but a book. A very big, leather-bound (?) volume with no name, no identifying features, and made of a parchment that smelled like it hadn’t been opened in millenia. Which it probably hadn’t, to be completely fair. Spindra had the slightest suspicion that the cover wasn’t made out of animal hide, but frankly, after having released a succubus queen onto the world, she wasn’t about to worry about the ethical implications of using that book, only what it might contain in terms of containment spells or defense incantations. As was to be expected, most of its contents were completely indecipherable, being either extremely complex runescript far beyond her ability to understand, or some kind of language that probably hadn’t been spoken in so long that any evidence of it ever having existed had already crumbled to dust centuries before. As she scanned the pages for anything to hold onto, the slightest hint of familiarity that her mind could use as a hook or solid foundation, the overbearing sense of urgency and panic began to tear down whatever walls the smith had built around herself, and as every attempt at finding a solution failed, the urge to scream grew stronger and stronger. Meanwhile, off in the distance, the nearest town was having a hard time keeping itself in one piece, as not only did the succubus queen feel like she needed to devour everyone who so much as showed the slightest bit of themselves to her, but the buildings as well were in dire need of some brutal renovation. The pillars of smoke had already become tall enough for neighbouring settlements to wonder about what might be happening, and the closest royal outpost was considering sending a small scouting detachment just to make sure the villagers weren’t doing something stupid like burning an effigy of the king again. What none of them knew was that the village was rapidly ceasing to exist in all practical sense, with its population dwindling faster than it could even ​try​ to run away. Even being imprisoned for so long did very little to affect the succubus queen’s power; if anything, it only exacerbated her needs and desires, driving her to push herself even harder than she normally would’ve. In regular circumstances, they probably would have had some fun playing with their food, as it were, maybe rounding up all of the illiterate churls into one big corral and forcing them to try and please her in whatever simplistic, brutish way they could. It’d be fun, something to spend an afternoon doing… but she was far too hungry for that right now. The queen had no intention of staving off her well-deserved feast, not after what had happened to even land her inside of that altar in the first place. The civilization that imprisoned her might very well not exist anymore, but she was planning on consuming them, so if they weren’t around, ​someone else​ would have to fulfill that role. And while mud-encrusted peasants weren’t exactly the best of treats for demonic royalty such as herself, they did give her enough of a power boost that she didn’t feel like collapsing every waking moment. Obviously, ​eating​ them was far below someone like her, an action reserved for mindless beasts and some of the more eccentric demon lords she’d rather not have anything to do with. No, the succubus had more refined tastes, ones that could only truly be sated by sapping the very lifeforce directly out of her victims’ souls. It was arguably more gruesome than simply ripping an arm off and chewing it up into paste, what with the poor people below her being able to see their innermost essence being forcefully removed from their bodies in the split second before being turned into mindless, soulless husks, but that just made it all the better, honestly! After she was done with that, it’d be easy enough to open a portal and sic her minions on whoever was left… if her minions were even around, that is. Or swore allegiance to her at all. ​They better​. All the while, her own power was coming back to her in spurts, making up for whatever part of it had been lost during her imprisonment. With each soul taken, her connection to her former realm became stronger, her ability to manipulate the currents of magic grew stronger… and her hunger only grew more ravenous as well. There would be no stopping her once the queen got going and found her rhythm, not now, not ever; the whole world would eventually become her playground, just like she’d initially planned, and it wouldn’t be any of these pathetic little creatures that would stop her. Whatever had happened to the grand civilization that had summoned and bound her, capable of working miraculous feats of magical prowess and shaping the very planet itself to fit their whims? Surely there had to be something around that could pose a challenge, or else that whole “ascension” business would turn out to be pretty damn dull. Fortunately for the queen, said challenge was just about ready to be thrown at her, as soon as Spindra found a way to decipher the one set of runes she vaguely recalled seeing before. After having spotted a familiar pattern, the drider rushed back to her forge and began sifting through the volumes she had on enchantments and runework, pouring through her bookmarks and bent pages in her effort to find something, ​anything​ that would help her translate the one section of the ancient book that she sort of maybe understood. It wasn’t a lot, but at least one of those runes clearly spelled out the concept for “containment” or “prison”, and assuming that whoever had put the queen in that altar had also left the book behind just in case someone needed to shove her back in, then it had to be the one thing in existence that could help her, or anyone else for that matter, end that threat again... preferably for the last time! Unfortunately, translating long-dead languages and complex runescript wasn’t something Spindra had spent any real time training herself to do, making the process absurdly complicated and taking up far more time than she felt she had on her hands. Very quickly, Spindra realized that she didn’t exactly have the luxury of going through the whole encyclopedia in order to properly imprison the succubus queen, and as much as it pained her to even think about it, it was becoming depressingly clear that a “good enough” solution would have to do. The few sections of runescript she’d successfully translated were pretty much what she thought they’d be, mostly various expressions of the concept of imprisonment. It was maddening to try and make sense of it all, seeing as it was mostly just abstract musings on things that might not even exist at all, but the very little the drider could decipher should be enough to at least recall the queen to the cave, forcing her to confront Spindra one on one. Why exactly the drider thought this was a good idea was anyone’s guess, but beset by panic as she was, the idea of trying to smash the monster’s head in with a pickaxe didn’t sound as absurd as it actually was. Preparing the ritual circle took the better part of an hour, but it was something that Spindra had​ to get right, under penalty of making the whole thing even worse; the last thing she needed was to empower the queen even more than she already was, made evident by the fact that the nearest village was ​very much on fire​ and the occasional screaming floating in the wind had already stopped, replaced with the faint crackling of wooden huts and the ever-present feeling of dread that had haunted her ever since opening that damn chamber. Off in the distance, Spindra could ​feel​ the queen’s presence, like a talon scratching the back of her head any time she looked in their general direction, only really going away when the drider pulled her eyes away and back to the task at hand. The succubus, in the meantime, was having quite a bit of fun “digesting” all of the soulstuff she had consumed, to the point where she dared to even lower herself to the ground. Typically this just wouldn’t do, but it ​had​ been some time since she’d last devoured an entire settlement, so some rest and relaxation were in order. Her figure, already full and plump owing to her very nature, began to fill out even more, to the point where the queen decided to take some time off to admire herself. It was nothing like she used to be, of course, but it was a good start; wouldn’t need to force anyone to serve her at that point, because honestly, would could ever resist a pair of breasts bigger than her torso or an ass wide enough to eclipse anyone who she happened to sit on? No one, that’s who. This is why she felt it was incredibly odd that a familiar kind of magic began to pull her at, physically​ pull at her, from the direction she’d just come from earlier. Believing her jailors to be long-deceased by that point, the queen didn’t think too much of it, probably just some residual magic left over from her cell reacting to her growing too much, but seeing as it refused to dissipate, and in fact appeared to be growing stronger, the succubus had to start paying attention to it. Before long, it was hard to keep still, until it became impossible to do so without actively resisting the pull, driving up her own panic; had she tripped some kind of dormant defence system, forcing her to go back into the altar? Were her captors not as dead as she thought they were? It was impossible for anyone to know that kind of magic if they weren’t around, unless… … oh, that drider was going to pay. Back in the cave, Spindra was desperately trying to control the maelstrom of magical power that had made its home in her smithy, just barely contained by the (thankfully well-designed) runic circle. The currents were so powerful that even her untrained eye could see them, and soon enough they had extended countless tendrils towards where she knew the succubus queen was. Spindra hadn’t expected the spell to work that way, but she wasn’t about to complain about it either; not when her own amateurish attempts at containment resulted in the demonic beast being dragged across the sky, kicking and screaming, before landing squarely in the middle of her cave home.. Her body was… significantly bigger than Spindra remembered it being, not to mention quite a bit fuller around the curves, enough for the drider’s cheeks to flush bright red. Pushing away those lewd thoughts from her mind, she moved on to the next part of the incantation, the one that would, hopefully, close down the drawn circle and force the queen to remain inside of it for the time being. It wouldn’t be permanent… or effective, really, but it was something! What Spindra wasn’t expecting was for the whole thing to spiral out of her control the moment the succubus bothered to look up at her, because one of the unfortunate necessities of maintaining a spell of that complexity was complete and utter focus and concentration, both things that were extremely hard to maintain when a higher-level demon glared at you with murderous intent. Unfortunately for the both of them, neither were in a position where a magical backfire would do them any good, so while the drider did end up being forced back by a sudden shockwave, the succubus queen had to deal with feedback of her own, which ended up doing far more damage than she could have ever expected it to. In mere moments, all of her gains began to shrink before her very eyes, her mouth ajar in a silent scream as she witnessed her body withering away into (comparatively) nothing, not only losing all of the soul-infused, soft flesh she’d stolen for herself, but her original form as well! From towering, statuesque and dominant to a pitiful little excuse for a succubus, all while her lost mass coalesced just outside of the runic circle, out of reach for her as her body was left so weakened as to be nearly unable to move. Rather than dissipate into nothing or return to their rightful owners, however, that mass of souls instead began to reshape itself into a brand new entity, one that was suspiciously humanlike in overall design, even if it seemed to lack any kind of solid physicality. Spindra came to just in time to see as her attempt at containing the succubus queen had instead, somehow, reduced her to a shadow of her former self, while simultaneously giving birth to something else entirely, something that seemed to be moving on its own accord and melting onto the floor. It took the ambient magical currents calming down before either of the two women could see just what that thing was, and what a surprise it ended up being when they both saw what appeared to be some kind of human made out of goopy slime! They were vaguely transparent, making their green colour difficult to make out against the solid brown of the cave they were in, but seemed to recognize they weren’t alone, as their eyes darted between the drider and succubus queen while a mouth formed underneath them. A face was soon born, just as their extremities grew more well-defined, and her previously-androgynous body adopted obviously feminine contours. Clearly, whatever that thing was, it had taken after the succubus that spawned it, even if said demon had no idea what in all the hells it had just coughed up from itself. The apple didn’t fall all that far from the tree, however; as soon as its body was solid enough, the slime creature began to reshape it into something akin to what its “mother” had been like back in the village after her feast: exaggerated breasts, a wide rear and even wider thighs, just a bit of “pudge” around the belly area to round things out… it was obviously enjoying itself, considering the noises it was making sounded suspiciously like rumbling, gurgling moans, to say nothing of how its hands were having trouble groping those engorged assets, inadvertently sinking into the creature’s semi-solid body. Both the queen and Spindra looked at one another, knowing that now that the demon was drained of its power, that pickaxe was looking mighty powerful as a weapon against her. With the slime creature there in front of them, however, both women nodded and mutually agreed to focus on what might very well be the bigger threat to their continued existence. This made it incredibly awkward when said creature raised her eyes and spoke up, adding quite a few more pounds to her bust as she did so and falling to her knees in order to ​really​ accentuate how oversized those slimy breasts of hers were. That she could speak was already bad enough; her words only made it worse. “What, aren’t you going to help me~?”

For all intents and purposes, Naali clocked in for the shift thinking that things were going to be as they always were: either an absolute bore, or an endless series of calamities of ever-escalating proportions that ended with the whole station being evacuated and someone other than herself getting blamed for it. The former had taken place so often, so painfully often, that for several weeks the snake had been wishing the latter would hurry up and happen already; it hardly mattered that lives were on the line, because the sheer isolation of working aboard a space station as the chief of security when nothing actually happened that needed her to do her job left Naali feeling like she should start her own trouble just to spice things up. It was only her conscience, as well as the reminder that it was NanoTrasen who signed her paychecks, that kept her from doing anything stupid, though that didn’t preclude her being moody about it at the best of times. It certainly didn’t help that most of her coworkers ran the gamut from mediocre to outright idiotic, with her having to remind a few of them of which side of the stunbaton they were supposed to hold; cloning sickness or no, the snake was getting tired of having to deal with the same level of incompetence, day in and day in, with no recourse or way out in sight. It was enough to make her scream, though thankfully she managed to keep herself together for the duration of her shifts before taking out her frustrations by going home and being unreasonably aggressive while playing online games. Not exactly healthy, but then again, she worked for NanoTrasen; literally nothing she did could ever be considered healthy for as long as the contract was signed. So she kept going, day after day, week after week, hoping to wear out the remaining time on that damned piece of paper so she could apply for a transfer to somewhere that had some action to it, rather than the backwater mining station she’d been assigned as a “promotion”; it wasn’t her fault that the last captain she worked with before the change in venue turned out to be a changeling in disguise, which only made the “reward” that much more unbearable. That she was sent to that place because the company would rather get her out of the way rather than admit a massive security breach was their fault left a sour taste in Naali’s mouth that no amount of drink could wash out, hence her need to occasionally externalize it via the odd snippy comment whenever she felt particularly frustrated. The snake tried not to think too much about it, being far more concerned with practical matters of greater importance, making it easy for certain things to slip through the cracks of her perception: odd sideways glances, unorthodox cargo requests that landed on her desk for her to sign off on, even rumours floating about that, thanks to their sheer unbelievability, Naali chose to… well, not believe. It’d be pointless to try and track down every supposed threat that bored miners decided to come up with in order to pass the time, when the closest the Syndicate ever came to actually being a danger to the mining station were the two or so times when they sent a small strike force to scout the place out before giving up on it altogether; every other Code Red had always been called over either internal strife (courtesy of the workers developing enough class consciousness that some of them had committed the cardinal sin of unionizing), or one of the miners deciding to bring back some form of extraterrestrial life from the planet they were tasked with hollowing out, causing quite a bit of stir when Security forces had to step in and either cage the beast or kill it outright when most of the rest of the station fought against them in order to keep their “pet” around. Even this, however, paled in comparison to what Naali was used to doing back when she had a proper position as the Head of Security, hence why most of the time she could be found lounging in the bar, trying her best not to snap back at anyone who dared to approach her unsolicited. It was only when she felt a tightness in her chest that the snake began to think that maybe something was off, and even then she was content in assuming she’d just swallowed the last shot badly and needed something to clear it off… though, once the next mouthful of cheap gin went down and nothing changed, then Naali began to wonder just what was going on. Seeing as no one was paying much attention to her, she looked down and surreptitiously tugged at the front of her uniform, hoping to see if there were any rashes, bruises, or anything at all that might indicate why she was feeling that way… only to notice that her bra looked somewhat smaller than it should. Meanwhile, somewhere in a forgotten section of the maintenance tunnels surrounding the medbay, manic giggling could be heard coming from a half-open closet; if anyone were to peek inside, they would find someone dressed in a miner’s uniform, dirty and ragged and very clearly skipping out on their shift, holding onto what looked to be a small plush doll that looked suspiciously like Naali. To their side, a set of needles driven into a tiny pillow, along with some measuring equipment and even what looked to be some vintage scales. Were anyone to look into the closet, they’d most likely call Security on account of that person clearly being some form of cultist, but little did this hypothetical interloper know that what they were looking at was not the same sort of blood ritual that the Nar-Sie lunatics usually partook in, but something else entirely. An old form of magic, one that hadn’t been seen outside Earth in what were most likely centuries, one that the miner was probably taught by some bored SWF coot who had some time to burn and decided to sow some chaos without slinging around fireballs themselves. Granted, better this than anything else more destructive; the miner in question was so sick and tired of the Head of Security being such a buzzkill that, in their mind, the best thing they could do about it was teach them some humility and have them learn to loosen up… and what better way to do so than to put them in a situation in which they’d have to lower their guard, whether or not they liked it? Not exactly sound logic, but then again, being a miner for NanoTrasen often involved inhaling copious amounts of toxic substances on account of the safety equipment being so cheaply made, so it was debatable whether or not the laborer teams were operating at full capacity or not; for Naali, this hardly mattered, considering she was staring down at a pair of breasts that were noticeably larger than she remembered them being, just enough so that she actually needed that bra she insisted on using underneath her jumpsuit. For a few moments, the snake thought that she might very well be hallucinating; there was no way this was happening, because it couldn’t be happening, certainly not to her. She’d gone through puberty and most of her adult life up until that point with absolutely nothing to her chest, and while she’d be lying if she said she was ok with that, the snake had grown to accept the fact that she was destined to be almost as flat as a board. There was something there, but… not much, certainly not as much as she’d like there to be, which was precisely why her reaction to seeing her tits bloat was as mixed as it was; her rational side knew that she should be worried, because clearly this wasn’t normal, but the rest of her was downright elated at the prospect of finally having a pair of tits that could fill up a hand, her hand in fact if she was feeling up for it later that day. It was an uphill battle; as much as her thinking half knew that she should leave before things got too out of control, the vast majority of her brain was so thoroughly activated by the notion of slowly filling out her suit, of slowly bursting free from the confines of her armor plating, that Naali began thinking that maybe she should just stay there and wait it out, see how big she could get, even if it eventually became hard to breathe. Sadly, she still had a job to do, and though the snake was more than happy to ignore it whenever it suited her, this had to be done in precise and calculated ways, precisely to avoid another reassignment; the more self-conscious aspects of her did eventually win, forcing the snake to slither away from the bar and head to her office, trying her best not to look like she was panicking as she did so. It was harder than it looked, given the tightness in her chest grew stronger the more distance she placed between herself and the bar; Naali couldn’t exactly remove her clothes, not in front of everyone, but that didn’t stop her bust from very gradually pushing against the inside of her body armor. It was only then that the Head of Security cursed her decision to keep the damned thing strapped on as tightly as she did… while simultaneously biting her lip, wondering how long it would take before she managed to break through the straps holding that thing onto her. It became harder to breathe as well, with her protective body armor turning out to be more of a prison than anything else, and it didn’t take more than a moment or two after she closed the door to her office behind her that Naali… held her hands in the air, midway through the process of removing the ceramic plating from her. It would’ve been a relief for her, being able to breathe properly, yet it was precisely this inability that made the experience so unbearably pleasurable; it was proof she was growing, proof that it was happening, proof that she could, for whatever reason, finally fill out a bra while bursting free from her clothes at the time same, a fantasy that the snake had held close to herself for a while. For a second or two, all Naali could really do was stare down at her own bust and wonder to herself just what in blazes was going on; perhaps it was a genemod that she’d been injected with on the sly, or maybe some sort of weird changeling power that she’d never heard of before. It clearly couldn’t be a hallucination, seeing as she was perfectly clear of any medical conditions that could’ve caused one, and the odds of it having been the drinks were… well, not exactly zero, but she hadn’t really downed enough liquor to justify seeing things. Plus, the sensations were far and away too radically different from what she experienced during her occasional lapses of judgement; the weight was too real, the tightness in her chest too present, the shortness of breath too painfully there for it to not be there. Besides, with the sheer amount of things that could cause growth like that, it’d be stupid to assume she was just imagining it… which brought about its own set of issues, because how was she going to explain those? Even the short trek back to her office had been enough to give her a pair that was a few cup sizes above her normal size, enough that her bra felt so tight that it must have been on the edge of snapping, the interior of her body armor kept from buckling outwards purely thanks to its constituent materials… and she still wasn’t stopping. Indeed, as they were still growing, it became clear that her tits didn’t really care about how much trouble they gave her, most likely aiming to provide Naali a bust that wouldn’t have looked out of place in some more unsavory corners of the galaxy, or in some truly high-class cinematic productions that she swore up and down she’d never seen before. Already her mind was beset by images of herself in her dream form, with her dream size and dream weight, with a pair of tits large enough that she could finally smother someone properly with them; a weird thought to have, but Naali couldn’t help but feel like what she had there, slowly making its way upwards on the size scale, wasn’t enough. It was a bust meant to be played with, thoroughly appreciated by someone whose hands knew what they were doing, rather than simply carried around. It was a pair of breasts that deserved a dedicated, welcoming, and energetic lover to make the best out of them, to send shockwaves of pleasure up her spine, to overload her ability to feel anything at all… and a bust meant to grow even further, meant to grow until it overcame her body armor and uniform’s ability to contain it, leaving the former broken in half and the latter in tatters after her bust finally broke free. Halfway across the station, still hiding in their closet, the miner was cackling, sure that their magics were working wonders, even if they couldn’t see the results for themselves; he’d picked up some radio chatter, nothing truly major, but enough to let him know that “the snake” had rushed out of the bar, and some of the Security officers were talking about “weird sounds” coming out from the Head of Security’s room. Granted, he would’ve loved to have seen what he had done to her, but his imagination would have to do for the time being; plus, there was enough reference material in the miner’s head for him to draw up a roughly accurate representation of what Naali looked like. Naali herself was, unfortunately, still stuck bent over her desk, one hand over her chest, the other trying its best not to help her along with the burning need she had down below. It would be disingenuous for her to claim that she wanted help; needed, sure, but wanted? Why would she want to be anywhere but there, holding a bust that had finally begun to grow to become everything she’d ever desired, a bust so sensitive that it didn’t take more than a light touch for her whole body to feel like it had been jolted with electricity… and she certainly went for more than just a light touch, and far more often than was perhaps advisable. At no point did the snake even think about the sort of noises she was making, nor if anyone was on the other side of the door to her office, wondering just what was happening that would make their HoS be so throaty all of a sudden; all she cared about was sinking her fingers into soft plush, snaking her hand in between her torso and the ceramic plating on top of it, only adding to the pressure she was feeling. She wondered just how close the whole thing was to either breaking in half or just slipping off of her once the straps finally gave in; the former seemed positively ludicrous considering the reason for all the extra tightness, but the snake could dream, she could close her eyes and think of a world in which her expanding bust packed enough force behind it to literally tear open ceramic plating like it was made of brittle clay. And it was precisely this mental image that kept her going while the pressure around and on her chest kept on rising, the Head of Security blissfully unaware of why any of it was happening, yet still perfectly happy to let it run its course, even if it meant tampering with forces far beyond her understanding. It wasn’t about the danger anymore, but the thrill of it, the passing of each second, where every breath she took felt more pained than the last, but brought about just as much pleasure in return; it was knowing that, for once, her body was too big for the clothes keeping it decent, and if not for the fact that there were no people on the station that would take her up on her offer, Naali would’ve gleefully added a little snack to her experience, just to make it feel that much more potent. This lasted for a while, long enough that the snake lost track of time; it could’ve just been mere minutes, or she could’ve been there most of the shift, ignoring whatever calamitous event took place because she was too busy groping her own tits and hoping they grew some more, refusing to take off her uniform or body armor even when it became legitimately agonizing to keep them on. She wouldn’t give up, that much she told herself; it didn’t matter if every inhale made her feel like there were daggers puncturing her lungs, she was going to outlast her clothing, not the other way around… and, seeing as the deranged miner was still playing around with the doll, making an effort not to succumb to more base and debauched urges while doing so, it really wouldn’t take much longer before such an event came to pass. Granted, the “aggressor” in that scenario wasn’t thinking of such details, being far more concerned with picking a remote fight with someone who could easily swallow them whole should they be in melee range, but Naali was quick to pick up on the opportunity; her bust was growing, almost unsustainably so, and eventually, something would have to budge. Given that the chief officer refused to be one to break, her armor would have to go that way instead; or rather, the synthetic leather straps holding the piece of ceramic plating close to her chest, courtesy of NanoTrasen’s chronic inability to actually invest in proper safety equipment. Sure, it was literally bulletproof and effectively impossible to stab through, but the fact that it had to be strapped on gave it several weak links in the proverbial chain, weak links that were prime for the shattering once pressure rose high enough that they couldn’t handle it anymore. With a moan that turned into an unashamed scream halfway through, Naali finally felt the sweet release of a free chest, when several of the straps ripped down the middle, and the front and back halves of her body armor flew away from her as if fired with a spring, all the stored kinetic energy being released with enough power that, not only did the front plate collide with the window behind Naali’s desk, it nearly shattered part of the reinforced glass as well! Still, the snake couldn’t bring herself to care about how close she’d gotten to being spaced, because she was free: her breasts could finally breathe, hell, she could finally breathe after such a long time having it denied to her, and from there to her uniform being torn apart were little more than ten or so seconds; now that her tits were able to hang loose, the last barrier between them and full exposure was just a thin layer of cloth, and seeing as how it was kept as skintight as possible, it really didn’t take much effort for the first rips to appear. Surprisingly, despite all the pressure she felt, the Head of Security couldn’t help but notice her bust hadn’t actually grown that much; it was still significantly bigger than before, enough that each breast was reaching the size of her head, but considering what she had gone through in the past however long it had been, the snake genuinely believed she’d grown a lot more. Still, she couldn’t complain; the size she was at, which seemed to be stabilizing the more she looked at it, was positively heavenly, certainly around the scale that she had dreamed for herself all those years: clearly above average, enough that she could easily smother someone in marshmallow, but still small enough that she could carry them around inside her jumpsuit uniform with only minor difficulty. They filled her clothes to the bursting point, but only slightly beyond; notably, though there were gashes cut through the synthetic fabric, most of her uniform itself remained in one piece… which, now that she thought about it, was even better than a full collapse. After all, anyone could be naked; it required very little effort on any given person’s part, and all those arrests for public indecency that Naali had been forced to deal with were proof positive of that. It took a very special kind of person, a very particular sort of size, for their clothes to hang on by just a thread, providing enough coverage that it wasn’t technically nudity, yet enough skin and scale for it to be outrageously scandalous in terms of how little it left for the imagination. Anyone who looked at her would be able to see every contour of Naali’s new bust, down to where their underside curved upwards or just how engorged her nipples were; not just that, but there was plenty there to grab in the tears that had been opened in the fabric itself, with ample amounts of soft breastflesh bulging out from the holes and begging any bystander to try their luck. Not that they should, given how Naali would react, but it was the aesthetics that counted… and, just like that, the snake was brought back to reality once she realized that her uniform was in no fit state to be used, and her body armor was going to need a complete redesign, assuming her bust was to remain the way that it was. She didn’t panic though; if anything, this was just her slowly approaching the state she should have been in since the beginning, but the snake did start thinking about the root cause of it. The growth was too anomalous and unexpected for it to have been a mere fluke of nature or a result of one of the company genemods going haywire; someone was responsible for this, and she was going to find out who it was. Thankfully for her, the miner with the doll, by that point entirely convinced that they were home free, decided it’d be a great time for them to start openly bragging about what they were doing in their department’s internal comm network, believing themselves safe from any unwanted ears. It didn’t occur to them that, while their own fellow miners were more than happy to keep it between themselves, offering up several words of congratulations while simultaneously managing to be even more crass about things than usual, their communications frequency wasn’t used by miners alone; though the station’s AI usually kept to itself, spending most of its time performing routine maintenance on the subsystems it was in charge of, it did keep a recording of every conversation that passed through the telecommunications satellite adjacent to the station proper, purely for security reasons of course. While it didn’t normally get involved in the affairs of the sentients it was supposed to watch over, not unless something bad enough to warrant its attention was taking place, the synth mind wasn’t about to let unregulated magic go without some form of official reprimand; thus, it found it best to activate the holopad inside the Head of Security’s office in order to let them know of what happened, only to be taken aback by what they actually saw. “You look… different,” the AI opened the conversation with, trying its best to emulate what it was taught was tact, “I see laborer #4412 wasn’t exaggerating. Would you like to receive medical attention? I can request the paramedic to provide transportation to the medical bay.” “I’m fine,” Naali eventually replied, having to focus just to be able to speak normally thanks to all the backlogged sensations she was yet to process properly, “just had a bit of a growth sp-wait, what’s this about laborer? Wait, why are you here? AI, state la-” “I am not subverted, if that is what you wish to know,” the hologram interjected, “I am merely here to inform you that laborer #4412, designate Quool Q’Voul has been mentioning your unfortunate medical condition in the Mining Department’s internal communications frequency. Something about ‘making that bitch learn how to loosen up’, or something of the sort. Do you wish for me to direct them towards the Security Department’s premises?” In truth, Naali should’ve answered yes. Her duty as the Head of Security meant that such a grievous offense should be responded to with nothing less than the full might of the law, at least as written by NanoTrasen and agreed upon by its workers. But Naali didn’t want that; not only did the company not pay her enough to really care half the time, but after what happened to her, it was only fair that she provide a more unorthodox punishment for someone who dared go after her like that. A punishment that would serve not only to remind this Quool of who was really in charge there, but would serve as a warning to anyone who might get some strange ideas on who was running the show. Thus, she shook her head, trying her best not to grin wildly when she instead instructed the AI to give the miner a set of coordinates, then ignoring the obvious follow-up question of “Why are those in a maintenance tunnel” with some nonsense about crime scene investigation and detective work. It was clear the AI didn’t buy it, but slaved to its laws as it was, the synthetic nodded through the hologram and then vanished, giving Naali some time to prepare before heading out. There would be no need for weaponry, certainly no need for combat equipment; while she could bring her stunbaton to bear, it just wasn’t fun when the prey wasn’t wriggling all the way down, when they didn’t resist, making the final meal that much more delicious. For Naali was intent on punishing this person, yes, but to do so in a way that would make them very happy indeed that NanoTrasen provided free cloning services to its employees, because by the time she was done with this insolent miner, there wouldn’t be much left of them, and most certainly not enough to shove inside an MMI for further reprocessing. So giddy was she at the prospect of what she was about to do that the snake failed to notice how everyone around her, when she left her office and emerged into a small crowd of officers, was staring at her with wide eyes and a slack-jawed expression; it only felt right that her presence should have that level of impact, seeing as she was, ultimately, the biggest bombshell in the room. She hardly even cared to look when leaving her department, preferring instead to let every bystander gawk at her new and improved self, the snake beaming with pride as, annoyingly enough, what the miner did had indeed taught her to loosen up just a little… or, perhaps, she was too horny from the growth spurt to really care about what others thought of her, which was far more likely all things considered. Too horny from the growing and too horny from the thought of what she was about to do, ducking into a maintenance tunnel with a toothy grin and her tongue licking her lips, not even paying attention to the station’s captain asking her what had happened over comms; that old coot wouldn’t understand, not when his best qualification for the job was having been at the right soirée at the right time, prompting Naali to take off her headset and stash it in one of her pockets, ignoring the buzzing that kept coming from it whenever anyone tried getting in contact. She was busier with better, more important things, such as heading to the rendezvous point to find a place to hide; it was an old bar, left abandoned in maintenance after it was declared condemned in the last big renovation wave, when new facilities were installed and old ones were left to rot until someone mustered up the willpower (and money) to carve off the unused part of the station’s frame. Little did Naali know that the closet she squeezed into was the same one that the miner had used to hide inside, which didn’t at all go unnoticed by said miner when they poked their head around the corner of one of the access shafts and found themselves back where it all began. There was no way any of this would end well, but they couldn’t exactly disobey a direct order from the Head of Security without finding themselves at the wrong end of a high-powered taser, thus forcing them to take the last steps needed before they were back in the abandoned bar, staring at anything that (seemed to) move in their paranoid attempt at identifying where the inevitable attack would come from. How little did they know that the strike would emerge from within the very same place they had used to conduct their little “experiment”, where their target was already lying in wait, peeking through the small space created by the gently-opened closet door, her mouth dripping with drool as her hunger drove Naali to salivate like a ravenous beast. It wouldn’t be long until she knocked the door open and flew out, using her coiled tail as a spring to propel herself onto her snack, wouldn’t be long until she was stuffing that delicious walking meal down her gullet, letting them know that, new and improved tits or no, they had still crossed a line. And who knew, maybe she’d go after all the other miners who heard about it and didn’t turn their fellow in. She was awfully hungry.

It was easy to forget herself at times. After so many years living among regular mortals, Makira’s own connection to the Netherworld occasionally slipped from her own mind, it being so irrelevant most of the time that her brain apparently decided it wasn’t worth keeping in active processing. It only really made itself evident whenever someone who’d never met her felt the need to ask if she was an oni, at which point automatic reactions kicked in and she provided one of the several snippy comebacks she had in store for whenever anyone decided to ask a stupid question. Not too mean, but after years in the human world, sometimes she wondered whether anyone would stop to ask themselves if they should really pose that question or simply accept the obvious; I mean really, what else would she be? Did people regularly go around dressing up as monstrous versions of themselves for fun? Still, this was mostly a rare occasion nowadays, especially given how most of her time was spent travelling from place to place, doing her best to see as much of the world as she could, even when she knew she’d never be able to take in its full breadth. It was vibrant nonetheless, a wondrous journey that Makira never once regretted undertaking; though her home back in the Netherworld wasn’t exactly boring, there was something special about those little humans, scurrying about trying to make the best out of their ephemeral lives and sometimes stumbling onto something truly genius while they were at it. The depths of their ingenuity never failed to amuse her, especially when it came to the creative arts; while humans did have an unfortunate tendency to design things whose sole purpose was to send others of their kind downstairs to the gates of the Netherworld itself, there was a literal world of manifested imagination waiting for Makira to stumble upon it. Certainly, it may range from the downright mundane and occasionally offensively boring to the utmost sublime and mind-boggling, but it was precisely this sort of discrepancy and spectrum that made her travels all the more worth it… especially when it came to food. To say that humans had something of a creative streak for what they ate would be an understatement big enough to smother the entire world, because if there was anything those mortals did just as well, or even better than creating tools of destruction, it was coming up with new and inventive ways to cook. The variations between regions, or even between individual towns within a single geographical area, were so great that Makira often found herself walking from place to place precisely so she could experience what she was told was a “local specialty”, and very rarely was she actually disappointed by it. Quite the contrary, in fact, which was why she was on the road again after a particularly heavy meal the previous night; it was during dinner that one of the cooks, a portly old lady who decided to strike up a conversation with her on account of there being no one else in the inn, told Makira that if she wanted to try out some truly spectacular confectionery, she should head to the next prefecture over, where an annual festivity was about to be held in a few days. Bakers from across the country were known to travel hundreds of miles with their kitchen on their backs just so they could have a chance at impressing the aristocracy, in the hopes that they may be elevated beyond their station and land a cushy position as a personal chef for the rest of their lives. While most wouldn’t, and indeed never had a chance to begin with, it was the perfect opportunity for those wanting to taste the best their nation’s culture could offer to do so on a relatively affordable budget. For Makira, nothing else was needed; as soon as she woke up that day, the first thing the oni did was pack up her things and get back on the road, which she’d been on for so long that her feet were starting to hurt already. She didn’t usually walk that much in a single stretch, preferring to stop along the way whenever she spotted a village, a town, or any random building that she could crash in for a while; she rarely had any difficulty in “convincing” folks to lodge her, even if it wasn’t an inn or anything of the sort. While Makira wasn’t wont to make her figure be as plump and curvaceous as some of her acquaintances in the Netherworld (at least, not usually), she did keep herself possessed of enough shapely contours that she could easily worm her way into whatever bed happened to be around if need be, regardless of who was on that bed to begin with. That day, however, seducing a random stranger for a warm bed and a full meal was the last thing on her mind; she just wanted some place to rest, because walking for several hours straight, while not exactly exhausting to the point of her wanting to collapse, was certainly tiring enough that Makira wanted to plop down somewhere soft regardless. Unfortunately, that long stretch of road she was on seemed oddly deserted, as if the human world had simply forgotten about it; miles upon miles of nothing but a line cut through woodland, leaving the oni gal wondering just how much she’d walked, and, at times, if she’d walked at all. An odd sentiment, to be sure, but there was something in the back of her head telling her that something wasn’t right, that she should’ve reached somewhere by then, rather than still being stuck walking in a straight line; in fact, just how long had she been walking? It felt like hours on end, and yet, on looking up, the sun appeared to be in the same position as it had been when she first got out of bed and left the inn; had she walked straight through the night and just not realized it? Instantly as soon as Makira began wondering this, however, the glamour was dispelled; she was in a theater, and the curtains were just pulled open, revealing the pleasant and unmoving scenario she’d been staring at was naught but an illusion meant to lull her into a sense of calm before the real show began and the true actors walked on stage. A blink, that was all that was needed, before the whole world vanished from around her and was replaced by a very familiar sight indeed: the Netherworld. Or, rather, Makira assumed that was where she was; the ambient energy felt like it was close enough to it, and the overall oppressive colour scheme thrown over the inverted version of the woodlands was certainly evocative of it. But, rather than feeling at home in the plane from which she’d been birthed, the oni gal instead felt… off. In a way, it was almost as if she didn’t belong there, not unlike those few times she knowingly walked into private property even when she knew no one was around to stop her; it was a fundamental sense of wrongness, almost like her presence, by continuing to be, was transgressing on some sort of divine “No Trespassing” sign that she couldn’t quite see, but could definitely feel. Not only that, but Makira couldn’t help but shake the feeling that she was being watched, though by whom, and from where, she couldn’t at all tell. Figuring that all these red flags put together meant that her priority should be to find an exit, the oni turned in her spot multiple times in an attempt to find any way out of… wherever she was. It looked like the woodlands she’d just left (assuming she left at all, of course), but just slightly different, enough to make it clear that she wasn’t in the mortal realm anymore; despite this, there was one key difference, one that Makira very quickly came to understand: the air tasted differently. Hell, just the fact that the air had a taste at all; she wasn’t an alchemist, but she was decently certain that you weren’t supposed to be able to savour the air you breathed in, doubly so considering that had never been the case even when she resided within the Netherworld itself. Then again, it wasn’t… bad, per se. Though her mind was telling her that she should definitely be concerned over the fact that the air was thick enough that she could practically swallow it, there was something soothing about it, a quality that permeated each lungful that almost left Makira lightheaded, more receptive to the idea that she was being filled with something that should’ve been there from the very start. Soon enough, her steps became erratic, before stopping altogether; she couldn’t move anymore, not when a very familiar sensation welled up inside her and made it supremely difficult to think about anything other than using her hands in a very familiar and intimate manner. Perhaps, as she came to think after first touching herself, this had been her body’s way of warning her that something was off about the entire experience, by forcing its owner to feel what had just happened to her; unbeknownst to Makira, the air around her wasn’t simply strange or unnatural, but rather proactive as well. As noted, she’d never been flat-chested; indeed, some time living around humans had taught her to keep her figure at a somewhat curvier form than she normally would have it, purely for the sake of convenience. She hadn’t, however, ever gone so far as to deliberately attract attention just by moving her chest from side to side, which made it especially surprising when one of her hands moved upward and found her tits far before it was supposed to. It immediately drew Makira’s eyes downwards, at which point the aura of apathetic acceptance was dispelled as soon as she saw that her shirt, once baggy enough to make it look oversized, now fit almost perfectly on her figure, courtesy of a pair of tits large enough that they risked spilling over from either side of her torso. Worse (better?) yet, they seemed to be growing still; in just a few seconds of observation, they expanded several inches in every direction, pulling her clothes up even further and even managing to tear apart a few seams in the process… along with dragging the oni gal’s mind straight down into a hole that she couldn’t crawl back out of so easily. It was too strong, stronger than her if she was to be honest; resisting pleasure had never been her strong suit, and whatever was happening to her body was sending so many signals into her pleasure centers that it felt downright heretical to even want it to stop. How could she, when it was the single best thing to ever happen to her? Makira could barely keep standing as she held her bust with both hands, moaning throatily when she felt the weight, the heft of them continuously rise, tugging ever so gently at her back as her tits blazed through cup size after cup size; soon enough, the cloth holding them back and keeping her decent began to loudly rip open, at which point there was no real turning back. If ever there had been a chance for Makira to want the growth to stop, there stopped being one when she heard her clothing being torn apart by the unrelenting advance of her breasts; she needed to see it, needed to hear it, needed to witness the moment her upper body wear was completely destroyed by a pair of tits that were inexplicably growing larger than they ever had been before. One seam at a time, the oni gal watched as her bust spilled forth, bulging through the holes in the stretched-out shirt and begging for someone, anyone to come caress it, with Makira herself having to hold back her hands to keep them from going out of control; even still, she was using them for another goal entirely, that being to feel as her tits overflowed from between and over her fingers until she was buried in breastflesh all the way up to her wrists when she had started by just holding the underside of her bust. It was only a matter of time, then, before it all went over the tipping point, no more than a couple of minutes before her poor shirt, brave as it may be, could take no more of it: with a deafeningly loud rip, its structural integrity ceased to be, fully unleashing the oni gal’s breasts onto the world… and onto herself. Whether it be because she underwent a final growth spurt, or her shirt just possessed some unknown quality that hid away the true weight of her bust, Makira didn’t expect the full impact to be as hefty as it turned out to be. As soon as her breasts slapped her chest, finally free from the constraints of clothing, all air was knocked out of her lungs for a second or two, with her very nearly tipping forward before readjusting. Only after straightening out her back and jutting her chest forward did the full “damage” to her form become evident: her tits were colossal, each one, despite maintaining a perfect teardrop shape and minimal sag, covering her entire front all the way down to, and even beyond her waistline; indeed, if she held her arms to her sides, the very bottom of her bust’s curvature would hang just below her fingertips, providing for some truly scandalous amounts of sideboob as well, more so, when put together, than the full width of her torso. Waving her chest from side to side caused enough wobble that Makira genuinely felt like she was going to faint from overstimulation, and she was just about to wonder what was happening downstairs when the transformation decided to spread out far enough to answer that question for her in the most delectable way possible. She barely had time to savour her new spectacularly oversized pair of tits when she felt something poking at them from below, smirking to herself that, of course, her cock would want to get in on the fun. What other way could things have gone, if not for that exact one? Hell, if her dick and balls grew nearly as much as her breasts did, then Makira didn’t really care about the obvious questions of mobility or whether or not the process was reversible; at that point in time, all she cared about was sensation, the pursuit of further pleasure regardless of how much it would end up being her downfall down the line… and thus, she figured, the best thing she could do was stop holding her power in check. She was, after all, still holding back somewhat, presumably as an instinctual reaction to the sudden and unexplained changes; thus, it only made sense that she should… stop. Just stop, and let the powers-that-be do with her whatever they wished. Just stop, and feel as her cock swelled, gaining length and girth in delightfully proportional measure. It only made sense, once she stopped to think about it; if her tits gained that much mass out of nowhere, then she only deserved to have a dick that could service them whenever she damn well wanted, and the only way to accomplish that was to have her shaft grow to match her new bust for size. Did it make sense? Was it merely the deranged product of an even more insane mind? Hard to tell, given the pleasure overload playing merry hell with Makira’s ability to produce coherent thoughts; as far as she cared, being on her knees, on the ground, with the bottom of her breasts smushing against the warmth beneath her and her cock growing to fit into her cleavage was the best place she could be in at any given time. As soon as she saw the tip of it break through her cleavage, almost poking her in the bottom of the chin, that’s when she knew her body had reached… a good middle ground. An interesting thought to have, and not one the oni gal ever believed she would formulate, but as she struggled to get back on her feet and took a long look at herself, she wasn’t thinking of it as a “final form”, of sorts; perhaps it was the ambient atmosphere making it difficult for her to remember what self-restraint was, or maybe it was her true self, the real temptress hiding beneath the surface, finally getting to assert herself over the normally more moderate, everyday Makira. Even feeling her nuts against the ground didn’t phase her (at least, not for long); it just felt natural that, even while standing up fully, her two overproductive cumtanks should still be capable of grazing whatever was underneath her, providing ample stimulation whenever she took a step. It complemented her new cock perfectly, especially with how leaky it was; certainly, it wouldn’t be enough for it to throb and pulsate visibly with every heartbeat, it needed the extra punch, needed the constant dripping of pre onto both itself and the top of her tits, a near-permanent glazing that gave her excessively-proportioned body the kind of sheen it truly deserved. Sadly, looking back, her ass seemed to have completely missed out on the fun… but she was in the Netherworld, her mind had been warped to see size as its top priority, and she was a damned oni; it was piss easy for her to draw on the ambient energy surrounding her and will it to focus entirely on her rear, bringing it from being merely shapely, to plump, to face-smothering, to so positively immense that she could easily sink her hands into it all the way up to their elbows (which, indeed, she did, and with plenty of gusto at that). This had the rather fortunate side-effect of extending plenty of extra fat to her thighs, turning Makira’s form from a top-heavy one to a perfectly balanced, hyper-sized hourglass, one that she could only wish she had a mirror to admire. Still, the mere presence of it was enough to get her hot and bothered, so much so that her mind fully disengaged from the notion of being watched; it had never truly gone away, it just being that the sudden transformation was powerful enough to keep it on background processing rather than on the forefront. But with such a well-endowed set of curves to focus on, it was so, so easy to simply forget about it completely… coincidentally allowing the very-much-real presence to use this moment of weakness to pass straight through the oni gal’s defences, finally having an opening to exploit. Makira, for her part, failed to notice this happening; she was either busy smushing her tits together to give herself a titjob, or finding new ways of grinding her immense, fat thighs together to make her body go haywire with pleasure overload; she failed to realize that the air around her had begun to coalesce in a way, growing thicker and more… present. She failed to notice when the presence, once little more than a vague idea of being observed, made itself known, speaking directly to her through her mind; at that point, Makira was ready to accept anything, so long as it helped to prolong (and, hopefully, enhance) the sense of overwhelming pleasure she was experiencing. So when this voice began communicating, using mostly sensations and thoughts, emotions and feelings rather than words and sentences, the oni didn’t stop it, nor did she even try to put up a barrier; the entity “spoke” of a great many things, passing along notions of motherhood and fertility, of dominance and regal power, of herself, of Makira, as the inheritress to its power. It spoke of itself, locked away in that corner of the Netherworld, unable to speak or interact with anyone outside it until Makira stumbled onto it; it spoke of its powers, its abilities, and of the oni gal’s destiny as so much more than she had been so far. And the oni, too far gone to consider the implications of this, chose to hear it; she chose to “listen” and welcome the “words”, chose to stare ahead, wide-eyed and ready to do whatever was necessary to further heighten the experience. She chose to nod along, at times audibly asking what she was supposed to do, never quite getting an answer until she decided to change her approach; as the voice was “saying”, she was destined for greater things, was she not? So why was she asking what she should do? There were no “shoulds” in her life, not if she was truly in control of it; if she was to be a goddess, there were only “woulds”, depending on whatever it was she wanted to do, not had to. And, well, if she was supposed to be a goddess, then the first thing she wanted was to demonstrate her power in the most direct way possible; granted, Makira had no idea what that might be, but luckily for her, the disembodied entity was more than happy to provide an idea of its own: motherhood. The oni gal was destined to become not just a deity, but a deific broodmother as well, her progeny themselves fated to spread across the Netherworld and beyond as extensions of her power… and besides, had she not delighted in her body’s transformation? Had she not adored every moment of it? What better way to extend it than to give it a reason to bloat and swell and sculpt itself further by turning herself into a mother, thus causing her already-wild energy to grow increasingly uncontrollable? This made perfect sense as far as Makira herself was concerned; in her horned-up state, there was very little she wouldn’t do in order to further extend her ongoing state of near-climax, and if she was meant to rule, then, well, she was meant to rule, end of story. Didn’t take long before another wave of pressure hit her, this time very much from within a specific spot in her body, one that let her know that merely accepting this truth had already led to her form changing further to prepare for the incoming onslaught. Looking down, the oni gal watched with bated breath and wide eyes as her belly filled outward (even if she had to part her tits to get a good look), swelling as new life was created within, growing to incubate the first of what would be a magnificent and numerous brood. More and more it distended, more and more it grew heavier, more and more Makira felt the new soul forming within, absorbing just a fraction of the Netherworld’s power in order to fast-track it from the boring initial years of its life. And, just as this new life grew to the state it was destined to be in, so too did Makira realize that it was her turn to shine again: but first, her body in general. Curves were nice and all, but they had a limit; after a certain point, it wouldn’t be enough for her to merely have tits the size of her torso, an ass to match, and a cock bigger than most males’ if she had it all on a frame that barely broke five foot ten. No, she needed to be bigger, needed to loom over everyone around her, and to that end, the oni gal snapped her fingers, inviting the entity into her… though not necessarily with the latter’s consent. Perhaps, in some way, this disembodied being believed that it could manipulate Makira into doing its bidding; perhaps it was convinced the oni gal was a malleable puppet that, some time in the future, it could commandeer. But Makira herself didn’t particularly care for machinations of any sort; her mind was focused on the present, on the now, and right now the only thing she saw, that she felt, was this extremely powerful and aetherial being that so eagerly informed her that she was supposed to be a fertility goddess of purest chaos, if only she took her throne with her very own hands. Really, this creature should be glad that it was being used as fuel to further her ascension; what else was it going to do, stuck in this corner of the Netherworld and unable to leave? Best that it be reprocessed like the magical energy that it truly was, used to further augment Makira’s form so that she could rise to the occasion… and quite literally so. Six feet were broken in under a second, heading to seven, then eight, accelerating briefly until it broke ten and only then slowing down; the oni gal let it carry on for a while until she reached something she considered to be the “correct” height for a goddess such as herself: a good twelve feet tall, with all her proportions maintained to keep her excessively curvaceous figure. But that wasn’t enough, was it? Even when her belly had reached an apex and the first of her many children began to push out, it wasn’t enough; indeed, as soon as Makira felt the firstborn of her progeny make its (her?) way from within her womb, already fully-formed and ready to spread the good word throughout the land at her best, the oni gal knew for a fact that she could be so much more… and this, of course, meant pushing her size out further. There was no one to stop her, after all; the entity had been consumed to turn her into a statuesque amazon, a miniature giantess whose form, on its own, could strike fear, awe and lust in equal measure at a mere glance. With it gone, there was nothing left to stop Makira from simply repurposing its entire domain for herself, and with ample stores of energy to draw from, it didn’t take long before the oni goddess was sitting on her ass and drawing all that delicious power into herself. Granted, most of this was a deliberate attempt at making her birth go by as smoothly as possible; in any other circumstance, she would’ve been overwhelmed by how quickly things turned out, but even as her first daughter was brought into the world, the now-mother goddess couldn’t really think of it as anything other than perfectly natural. Yes, she should have done such a thing; it was the natural order, the way the world worked, that she, as the newborn Goddess of Chaos, should be able to accomplish such feats and think of them less as mind-bending acts of impossibility and more simply a reflection of her true nature. Did it make sense for anyone else’s firstborn to already be a completely formed adult with a mind and a seductive streak of their own? Probably not; but Makira wasn’t most people, and thus, neither would her daughters be. They were extensions of her as much as they were her children, seeds of chaotic energy from whence further domination would bloom; indeed, the firstborn barely spent two minutes giving their mom a great big hug before cleaning themselves off and vanishing into the aether, presumably to find the first person they could jump and make good use of in their own, rather unique way… thus, making room for another daughter of Makira’s to begin forming within her womb, with the oni giantess already starting to weave further alterations to her body to better fit this new godlike aesthetic she had developed for herself. Before long, her prodigious ass would be seated upon a throne of purest gold and resplendent marble, reflecting the gloomy, colour light of the Netherworld; before long, her already bountiful and ample chest would be larger still, spilling onto her lap, her legs, her sides, even threatening to reach to the floor itself if Makira wasn’t careful. And before long, so too did her shaft swell and thicken to lengths and girths that had once been thought impossible by the oni herself, yet now were seen as little more than her birthright. Of course she was owed a cock that massive, why wouldn’t she be? Of course she needed a pair of cumtanks so stuffed that the pressure within them allowed the two orbs to serve as beanbags upon which her equally-full breasts could rest, what else could she have done with herself? Every inch of her new body was a reflection of her power, her dominance, her ability to snap her fingers and make reality bend to her whims and wishes, regardless of what they might be. And that, Makira thought to herself, was the truest essence of divinity. Control. *** Some time passed. It was hard to tell how much of it, given how the Netherworld had a difficult time keeping track of the same at the best of it, but certainly enough that Makira was no longer recognizable compared to her old self. Maybe one day she would return to the mortal world, to put herself on display, that the humans might see what they were missing out on. Granted, getting through doors with her body-sized tits or similarly-oversized rump would be a challenge, not to mention how her cock would probably end up covered in a dozen or so suitors all desperately clinging onto it, while still leaving enough room for a couple more. Or maybe her eternal baby factory, continuously pumping out her endless brood of blessed daughters, would be somewhat of a bother for local populations; that is, unless they wanted to have themselves fully replaced by oni. Whatever the case, she was certain she’d find her way back eventually. As much as the new Goddess of Chaos was certainly enjoying herself, it was one thing to rule over her domain with no one there to serve her, quite another to have a slew of worshippers ready to throw themselves at her feet (and promptly get crushed by her tits). After all, she was a deity, was she not? And she wanted to do it. So why shouldn’t she?

For Kitty, the oddest adaptation to this new reality was just how small he felt in it, especially since it wasn’t technically his fault as much as it was theirs. The rest of the universe was just as big as it used to be, but for whatever reason, neither Sierra nor Emily decided that they should go back to the way they used to be… at least not in terms of size. Their forms were identifiable as belonging to them, sure, and anyone looking at their faces could tell who they were, assuming of course they could even see their faces at all, and weren’t left struggling to try and catch the smallest glimpse of them thanks to all the curves in the way. For the smaller cat, things progressed the way they usually did in those ascension scenarios: he saw one of those two gals grow, he got stuck on their body somewhere, and from there time ceased meaning anything as their very form outstripped the universe’s ability to contain it, creating a feedback loop of sensations that, as far as Kitty was concerned, meant that the only thing he could do was hold onto the nearest handful of pudge and just hope that everything would turn out alright. After what felt like aeons of this, he would finally fall asleep and wake up exactly where everything had started, usually with him back on his bed with Emily by his side, ready to start a new day like she or Sierra hadn’t just done the impossible purely because they were borned, horny, or, more dangerously, both. That time, however, was different, in that neither of the two women seemed keen on returning to what used to be their normal; rather than their bodies going back to the state they used to be in, that being utterly unremarkable and indistinguishable from amidst a crowd, both Sierra and Emily were… larger, for lack of a better word. So much so, in fact, that Kitty’s first thought on waking up was wondering how their bed was even in one piece, that being before he rolled out of it and just barely managed to grab onto the ledge after realizing there were was a good six-foot drop waiting for him if he hadn’t; looking around after this rude awakening revealed to him that the rest of their bedroom had been similarly upsized, keeping everything’s proportions identical, but upscaling them to better fit Emily’s new, apparently smallest form. It took a while before Kitty came to terms with what he was even seeing, his brain thoroughly incapable of processing the vast amounts of cat that he was blessed with right there beside him when he crawled back into bed; rather than him being capable of spooning Emily like he usually did whenever they returned from their ascension episodes, mostly as a means of reassuring himself that things were back in place, he instead found that he could barely even begin finding a spot where he could hold onto… at least without smothering himself completely in the process. Rather than her usual self, Emily was still an utter giantess, easily over twenty feet tall and possessed of a set of curves that made Kitty’s cheeks burn with the awkward embarrassment that always preceded a wave of thoroughly unrestrained arousal. Though difficult to tell for sure, since Emily still had sheets over her body, the smaller cat spied the unmistakable silhouette of three rows of breasts, each one colossal on its own right; it was even worse when Kitty realized that what he initially thought were full busts were, in fact, merely part of a single breast, seeing as the big cat in front of him was turned on her side… and he himself then noticed that he’d been pushed off to the very edge of the bed, betraying just how enormous those udders had to be. Further down below, the sheets tented as they hugged her voluptuous lower body, revealing the breadth and reach of Emily’s hips, the sheer plumpness of her rear, and how deliciously oversized her thighs were as well; all in all, it was a frame that befit a true goddess, and in fact was how Kitty effectively imagined his mate to be like in his head, in their “perfect”, divine form. To see it realized, to see it there in front of him, was to have a dream made manifest, one that was only intensified once Emily realized her “little kitten”, as she called for him, had woken up, and proceeded to effortlessly grab him by the scruff of the neck so she could raise Kitty in the air to a spot high enough that he could see her full glory. It was a testament to the bigger feline’s power that she didn’t even have to slide the sheets off of her when she turned around to show her mate what was in store for him; a simple snap of the fingers was enough for the universe to know what she desired, and to provide accordingly. For Kitty, this was the culmination of what felt like years of trying to get Emily to accept her more deific side; rather than going all-out in occasional universe-destroying growth binges, it would’ve been so much nicer if she simply got used to being… well, like that: excessive, self-indulgent, openly powerful enough to manipulate reality to fit her whims, simply being as her perfect self rather than going through cycles of denial and explosive lust. And there she was: vast, immense, plump, curvaceous, voluptuous, smiling at him as all those words went through his head, seemingly knowing perfectly well what he was thinking, at least if what happened afterwards was any indication. Acting as if it was entirely normal, Emily stretched her limbs, apparently to get ready for a new day, all while keeping her little kitten still held high above her, in just the right spot where he could watch as she grew… and she alone. For once, the rest of the bedroom remained the same size, giving Kitty a front-row seat to the spectacle that was seeing Emily’s body take up more and more room on a bed that groaned and creaked ominously for every inch that was lost to the advancing mountain of warm fur and soft curves; the spectacle that was her hips flaring out further, her thighs thickening considerably, and her tits bloating outwards as if to promise to Kitty that, if he was a good little thing, he’d get to be deposited right in the middle of them, to be smushed in an eternal massage in marshmallow heaven. Alas, that was for another time entirely, at least judging by how he was plopped down on the ground beside the bed, just far enough that Emily could roll over herself and practically hop onto a standing position… almost immediately afterwards swivelling forward as the weight of her tits pulled down on her, leaving the big cat with her hands anchored on the wall and her back bent thanks to the heft of her three busts. It wasn’t an accident though; oh no, those claws of hers, ripping lines through the wallpaper, made it very clear that she was deliberately enjoying herself, feeling as her six udders filled and bloated with milk, Kitty too watching as each breasts slowly swelled, cup size after cup size being blown through as the droplets of milk dropping from each teat thickened into a stream, Emily refusing to stop her growth as her eyes went half-lidded and her tongue lolled free from her mouth. Though she was at a forty-five degree angle with the wall, the giantess didn’t stop until her lowermost set was touching the ground, with comparable gains for the two rows above them, before finally straightening her back; in an instant, all lactation stopped, with the thick puddles on the ground being the only proof it ever happened to begin with, though the sloshing only seemed to get louder still. Each motion on Emily’s part made her body-sized titstack wobble and jiggle aggressively, its contents churning away as they crashed into one another, occasionally prompting a couple of inches of growth before finally stabilizing a minute or so later; another snap of the fingers, and suddenly Emily was decked out in what appeared to be a multi-piece swimsuit just barely capable of holding her busts up, one that she hastily summoned a t-shirt over before turning around to look at herself in the couple’s closet mirror. She must’ve been happy with the results, seeing as she turned around with a beaming smile on her face before unceremoniously picking Kitty up and just as casually dropping him directly into her topmost row’s cleavage, pushing his limp form further and further in until he was completely buried, only his head left to see the world around him; she didn’t even ask him if he was comfortable, mostly since it’d be an entirely redundant line of questioning, instead choosing drop a smooch on his head and immediately head out the door, saying something about having to “take care of Sierra”. It was almost supernatural how easily Emily walked through openings that she should not be capable of traversing, given how her tits were far wider than she was, not to mention that ass she was carrying; and yet, despite the obvious impossibility, no doors seemed capable of stopping her, presumably because the cat, as the goddess of that world, had apparently decided that she would never be hampered by anything resembling a mortal-made obstacle ever again. This seemingly extended to spatial dimensions as well, given that, rather than emerging into their apartment block’s hallway once the front door was opened, the two instead found themselves already outdoors, the light of the sun forcing Kitty to momentarily close his eyes, lacking the free hands to shield them; he didn’t notice how the “door” vanished into thin air the moment it was closed behind them, nor that Sierra was already waiting for the couple to arrive, sitting on what appeared to be the outdoors balcony for a high-class café that the smaller cat, on finally getting a good look at, was convinced hadn’t been there before. That was perhaps his last thought before his mind was entirely subsumed by the Latias, because if Emily had become a behemothian sculpture of pure curves, then Sierra was… something else entirely. Her body in general was entirely identical to what it always had been, seeing as she had no pretenses of being some kind of fertility goddess, being far more focused on one singular aspect of her form: her absolutely titanic, positively gargantuan orb of a belly. It bordered on the absurd, just how enormous that thing was, so big that even Emily, already tall as she was, could barely even reach the halfway point to Sierra’s bellybutton, let alone the very top of that sphere of pudge. It was soft, just as much as it had been during the Latias’ ascension episode, and though Kitty couldn’t hear it very well thanks to all the sloshing coming from the six tits he was imprisoned by, he was certain that it gurgled and churned just as loudly, if not more so given the right circumstances. It was, in fact, so positively colossal that it had to be slung out sideways, away from the establishment, completely blocking the road and still spilling several feet onto the pavement on the other side, and a sizable chunk of what used to be a small park. In sharp contrast, the rest of Sierra looked miniscule, almost comically so, and if it weren’t for the aura of absolute confidence that the Latias exuded, Kitty might’ve been convinced that she was pinned down by the weight of her gut. He knew better though; this sort of display of excess would never take place unless Sierra was still perfectly in control of herself, and what use was there in having a belly that big unless she could carry it around and use it to impose herself upon the world at large? It’d be downright wasteful for her to not be capable of walking, especially when that meant she could poke and prod at Emily for being the smaller one for once in their life; this much was obvious in the way that the Latias looked at the approaching cat, a near-malicious glint in her eyes as they analyzed every inch of the feline’s curves, attempting to ascertain just how big they truly were… only to then cackle when they realized that their gut was far, far larger than it really needed to be, which as far as Sierra was concerned, was precisely how it had to be. Emily, meanwhile, was clearly flabbergasted with what she was seeing; she’d expected her friend to be larger than normal, hence why they had to “take care” of them, but from the look of utmost shock stamped on her face, the goddess cat had obviously underestimated her friend’s penchant for unrestrained growth. For a moment, she felt tiny, insignificant, even powerless, so much so that the old Emily, the one that advocated for some measure of restraint, began banging on the bars of her mental cell, hoping perhaps to be heard… at least until the cat’s confidence came roaring back into action, giving her the strength required to push forward and make a few demands out of Sierra; clearly, the belly with a Latias attached to it didn’t understand just how many fundamental laws of existence it was breaking, nor did it seem to care about the tenuous balance that was being kept between the two of them. Sure, Emily herself occasionally lost control of their growthlust and had to destroy a couple of multiverses before getting it back, but that was all part and parcel for creatures such as themselves, and indeed was entirely expected and accounted for; now, this sort of blatant disregard for limitations and restrictions, where Sierra just fattened herself up for all to see, carrying a gut too large to be real, too imposing for the world around it to function properly, would just not do. Emily didn’t stop to think how the same could be said for her, how her own stature had cleared straight through a line that no one else had crossed, how her many breasts had become a legitimate hazard for people around her; as far as the cat was concerned, she had earned the right to be that big, because she wouldn’t just abuse that power willy-nilly to satisfy her own urges the way that Sierra was doing so… at least, in her own mind. There were a few confusing thoughts floating around in there that made it difficult for her to focus; something about whatever she did that morning that didn’t mesh that well with this sudden ideological position she took… but, clearly, that wasn’t important. No, what mattered was reminding Sierra not to abuse her size for no good reason. In Emily’s mind, this should’ve been easy: as was befitting a goddess of her stature, she would walk up to the Latias, give themr a harmless dressing-down and remind them that, ultimately, the power the two of them wielded was such that it should never be used purely for personal gain like that, not without taking the rest of the world into consideration. They might have a spark of divinity within them, sure, but they kept their growth spurts contained to rare occasions for a reason; if not for their self-control, then the entire universe would simply cease to exist thanks to the strain it was placed under on a regular basis, and if that happened, then what would they do? Most of the charm from their ascensions came from the fact that they were ascensions to begin with, and, by definition, they couldn’t exactly take place if there was nowhere to ascend from; thus, it was important to take things in moderation, and critical not to overuse their powers to prevent reality from fraying at the edges. Very few times did Emily even have to think about issuing this speech, and fewer still where such a thing was even needed at all; though Sierra was far more enthusiastic about outgrowing everything than she herself was, the big cat could at least be reassured that, at the end of the day, the Latias was still on the same wavelength that she was, preempting any need for special containment or reprimands. This particular incident stood out as an exception, not the rule, and as such Emily figured that it was time to remind her friend of what their duties were… which was exactly what should have happened, had her mind not tripped on some sort of wire and been sent down a flight of stairs lacking any ability to control itself. For all of her divinity, for all of her godlike power, the moment that Emily stepped forward to waggle her finger at Sierra, she instead verged off to the side, planting herself bodily onto a small stretch of her friend’s belly; in a single instant, she was surrounded on nearly all sides by the Latias’ warm form, their gut being surprisingly malleable for something that was clearly stretched to capacity, inviting even Emily’s engorged self so far into it that the only thing passers-by could see was the feline’s tail… that is, until said feline began to grow again. It was impossible to resist the allure, impossible to say no when her mind demanded that she unleash her transformative powers; it felt as if physical contact with Sierra had left Emily without the means to hold herself back, like some unseen hand had reached into her head and turned off the switches that dealt with her inhibitions, leaving only raw, primal desire in its wake. The goddess cat didn’t even think about what her growth spurt would do to Kitty, nor even that Kitty was there at all; for her, being subsumed into that enormous amount of pudge was tantamount to having reached her personal paradise, and being there, the only thing she should do was… indulge. Indulge, and let her body grow, bloat, swell; indulge, and allow her six breasts to fill up with milk, her ass to fatten, her thighs to thicken, her body in general to billow outwards as she gained yet more feet in every direction. Indulge, and welcome Sierra’s warmth into herself, using it as fuel for the raging furnace fire that was her own growthlust, indulge and simply forget about the fact that she was technically still on a planet with billions of other people, and should therefore think twice before letting loose like that. But she wouldn’t, of course, because why should she? Why should she spend even a moment considering what the little ones around her wanted, when she could merely take whatever it was her whims dictated and then put it back harmlessly at literally any point? If hers was the power to control existence itself, to the point where she had literally lost track of the amount of times she had rebuilt the cosmos, then why should she bother? Such thoughts coursed through Emily’s mind as if carried through with a current, unable to hold still for more than just the most fractional of moments, yet still strong enough to leave a lasting impression; all the cat could do at that point was hold onto whatever portion of Sierra was closest to her and billow outwards, taking up so much space that there were some panicked yells once the giantess’ body began to plow through the pavement and push back some parked cars. It took no more than a minute before Emily found some semblance of satisfaction, but a minute was all that was needed; once she finally pulled back from embracing the Latias’ soft, inviting belly, she was left so enormous that, on attempting to lean onto a building for support once she stumbled backwards, she instead landed her ass squarely on top of a five-storey apartment block, all without having to take her paws off the ground, it being a miracle that the whole structure didn’t simply collapse from the weight! Not that she had much time to consider this, as almost instantly afterwards the goddess cat arched her back forwards, jutting her breasts out in front of her; they had grown tremendously huge during her short hugging period, owing not only to the influx of milk but also the fortuitous amount of additional mass summoned up by Emily’s lustful mind, but clearly, this much wasn’t enough. Though the titstack was already taller than she was, the giantess bade it grow bigger, her already-strained clothing, barely capable of holding back the size she had already gained, ripping apart at the seams as dozens of cup sizes were blazed through, each second that passed adding a good foot or so to Emily’s immense set of breasts; the churning was deafeningly loud, the sloshing of milk heralding the waterfalls that poured out of her six teats just a few seconds later, and still those things swelled, still she kept her chest pointed as far out as she physically could, her mouth wide open and her tongue lolling out. Emily was clearly no longer in control… but something else was, perhaps a different version of herself hidden deep inside of her psyche; for the giantess did stop, even if it took until every inch of space between herself and the line of buildings on the other side of the road was fully occupied by her six gigantic milk factories. Only when her lowermost nipples pierced through the facades of the apartment complexes (un)lucky enough to be her targets, with the topmost four too busy spurting milk in wide arches far above everyone’s heads, did Emily’s eyes come back into focus, and the growth stop… only for her to then hiccup. Those things were devastating to her figure, even in the best of times, and seeing as she was easily over eighty feet already, the building she was using as an improvised seat didn’t last for much longer; thankfully, the first thing the shockwave did to her was leave her ass big enough that it barely even fell down at all, utterly demolishing the (mercifully empty) structure underneath her while leaving Emily with plenty of padding to comfortable sit upon her new throne. She would need this, considering the next upgrade came to her breasts nary a moment later, when the hiccup’s power poured into her bust and very easily tripled it in size! In an instant, an already colossal set of mammaries became utterly disproportional to a body that was, itself, gigantic beyond reason, and if it weren’t for Emily’s ass being so wide that she could use it as a means to balance herself, she would’ve very easily tipped over and been buried underneath the weight of her many busts; to call this catastrophic would be an understatement, considering her tits were roughly three hundred feet tall… each. It was a spectacle, to be sure, and yet despite this, it wasn’t Emily who was in charge there, not when the sound that imposed itself above all others came not from within the gargantuan milk factories attached to her chest, but from Sierra, who for some reason was yawning at the sight of her friend completely losing control over their size! “You done?” were her only words, issued in a tone that made it quite clear who she believed to be in charge of their new power dynamic, quickly followed by a demonstration that made it exceedingly obvious just what the Latias’ plans truly were. For clearly, it wasn’t enough for her to just be big; she had to be the biggest, and it wasn’t going to be Emily who stood in the way. The cat was enormous, that much was clear, so large in fact that Kitty, stuck was he was on the very top of the topmost row, now incapable of seeing his mate’s entire body even from what had been a perfect vantage point, feared that a new universe-sized growth spurt might be coming their way, and that Emily had utterly lost herself to the madness of self-indulgent expansion. Despite the fact that she very much wanted to, however, the bigger feline was still in possession of enough of her mental faculties to deny herself that one last pleasure, and to force herself to sit down and not push her limits any longer; it was bad enough that she was going to have to spend days shrinking back down, the cosmos did not need yet another ascension event so soon after the last one… though clearly, Sierra thought differently. For a brief grace period, Emily did genuinely believe that perhaps the Latias was simply being snippy for its own sake, that they didn’t have any ulterior motives beyond poking fun at her own inability to contain the obvious arousal she felt; in this gloriously blissful moment of ignorance, the big cat convinced herself that she’d merely had a slight hang-up, and that given enough time and effort, things could go back to the way they used to be… only to then turn aside and, instead of the local landscape rolling down onto the urban jungle, see what was, unmistakably, Sierra’s belly. It had appeared so quickly, so unexpectedly, that once again Emily was only saved from being buried beneath her own heft by way of her curves being so exaggerated that they served as their own means of grounding her, though she was pushed aside with enough force to carve a path of destruction through a series of residential areas, unable to stop herself as the enormous gut by her side kept getting larger and larger still, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. Sierra wasn’t just one-upping her, they were going above and beyond with how massive they made their stomach, and judging from the way it was rumbling, their hunger was spiking to dangerous levels as well. Oddly enough, despite the fact that the sudden and explosive growth burst only ended when Emily was just as comparatively smaller to the Latias’ belly as she had been when the two met just minutes before, Sierra herself was just as unassumingly calm and chill as she had been; in sharp contrast to the big kitten, whose mind had to constantly stop itself from breaking free from its self-imposed shackles in a way that was very obvious to anyone paying attention, the Latias was the picture of serenity, slowly and gently patting her her own tum with one of her wings, seemingly unaware of the sheer amount of destruction her wanton disregard for others had caused. To her, she might as well have just added a couple of inches to herself, and seeing how she was looking upwards at the giantess beside her, or at least the parts of them that she could see, it would be clear to all that Sierra was seeing this interaction (for lack of a better word) as a contest of sorts; Emily had shown up far larger than they had any right to be, and yet still smaller than her own gut, as things were supposed to go in this new world the Latias was creating. Yet, upon making contact, the other giantess’ inhibitions were shattered, leaving behind only a creature of pure lust who knew nothing but the notion of growth, of excess, of more… and, in return, Sierra had graciously shown Emily where their place was: underneath her on the size ladder. Truth be told, the Latias hadn’t expected her fellow goddess to go down that route, at least not so quickly; it was almost insultingly easy how she succeeded at using her psychic powers on the feline, how simple it was to use that moment of distraction during the universal reset to rearrange a few variables and teach the big cat a few things about body positivity and self-acceptance. Sierra had expected a literal goddess to be more resistant to attempted interference on that level, but perhaps it was a case of Emily already having those thoughts in there somewhere, and only needing a little push to get them to the forefront of her mind… a push that Sierra was more than happy to provide, if it ended up with the two of them locked in a contest for size dominance. After all, she did leave the cat’s self-restraint intact, creating a perfect storm where they would be at odds with themselves while she was free to grow as much as she very well wanted; and what she wanted was to only grow as much as absolutely necessary, not only to serve as a means of reinforcing her superiority over Emily, but to entice the big cat into growing just a little bit more, again and again, in a cycle that would never truly end while the two of them were still alive and well… and seeing as they were both literal goddesses who existed on a plane of being far above that of the tiny little creatures scurrying around them, with the two of them wielding a power so great and beyond mortal comprehension that they could literally make and unmake Creation itself at the drop of a hat and with a snap of the fingers, that wouldn’t be any time soon. As far as Sierra cared, Emily worried too much; if they accidentally ripped reality to shreds, they could just make a new one, a better one, one that wouldn’t fray at the edges just because its attendant goddesses decided to have some fun, one that could last properly without the need for a reset. And Emily herself would see this, in time, and with proper motivation; after all, she was already eyeing that colossal belly by her side again, her hands outstretched, ready to pull herself into a tight hug. Goodness, it was easy to get that cat stuck into vicious cycles.

There was only so much they could do before they were unceremoniously thrown out the door, but to everyone’s credit, it took a long time before anyone on the staff team dared to even so much as lift a finger. Even as the two of them went at it like a pair of bunnies in heat, there was always the bigger issue of customer satisfaction: none could deny that they’d hired Annabelle specifically because she was a massively heavy-chested cowgal with a penchant for making pants tighter wherever she walked, nor could they defend themselves if anyone pointed out they only allowed Abigail in as well because the two of them getting close and personal attracted a lot of good clientele. Well, the staff said good, but it was mostly the kind of people who would go for watching two hyper-sized lovers getting uncomfortably close with one another in the middle of a public area, which always created a never-ending cavalcade of headaches for the people in charge of the club. Sure, they wanted to be successful, and right there they had an easy ticket, but did they really want to be known as that kind of establishment? Always questions to be asked but never answered, as those responsible had convinced themselves that the time would never come that Anabelle, dutiful Anabelle, would ever do something as ridiculous as actually start fucking her partner in full view of everyone. Groping, sure, maybe a little heavy petting, but never that… until, of course, it happened, and did so with enough energy that no one quite knew what to do with it. They couldn’t just walk up to the couple, not without risking getting knocked out; the Nargacuga’s balls had inflated with so much cum that they were spilling onto the ground, her cock ramming so deeply into the cowgal’s body that it left her belly visibly deformed with each thrust, while the cowgal herself… well, her tits were already enormous by themselves, and had grown further over the time she’d been working there. Everyone knew that Anabelle was prone to that sort of growth, but at no point did they expect her bust to just start billowing outwards like that, nor could they have guessed it could be so productive as well! Before anyone knew it, both of the cow’s udders were large enough to serve as beanbags of their own, and if Anabelle had bothered to stand up rather than shatter the couch underneath her, they would’ve easily reached the ground and still manage to cover a substantial chunk of her front… and they were still bloating. Slower than before, yes, but still growing, and judging from how much milk was spurting from their nips, it was quite clear they were filling as well, which only made the Nargacuga thrust in deeper, harder, faster, until the process became self-sustaining and the two lovers were on the right path to fill the entire club. And while the customers would no doubt love to see that, the management couldn’t just stand back and watch it happen… for too long. Consequences had to be put in place and repercussions had to strike, but perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad if they let Abigail and Anabelle enjoy one another for a while, to give them something to do and attract the attention of the customers that were already present; not like anyone had the spine to demand the two of them stop, but it was the thought that counted. Thus, nothing stood in the way of Abigail’s frenzied fucking, her nuts and cock burgeoning with size and mass as they stretched Anabelle out further and further still, who in turn only grew thicker the more her body was stuffed. It wasn’t just her tits as well, as even her hips had begun to flare out, her thighs had started to fill, and her ass was definitely bigger than it had been just moments prior, leaving her with one hell of a pillowy throne to sit upon. However, she had no intention of getting up from where she was, lying down and surrounded on all sides by her own soft self, being railed by a cock bigger than most of her torso, hearing her lover’s moans and feeling their hot breath roll over her own body like the most wondrous waterfall, covering her from head to toe. It was all she could ask for, and indeed, all she would ever ask for; nothing more was needed to leave her feeling the most blissful she’d ever had been, and in those few, precious moments where no one interrupted them, Anabelle felt truly, undeniably happy. Unfortunately for both her and Abigail, it couldn’t last; eventually, someone would step forward and make the decision to put a stop to the proceedings, and while the two lovers completely ignored them at first, threats of calling the police or siccing the bouncers on them made them wake up to reality pretty quickly. They couldn’t exactly walk, not when the Nargacuga was still balls-deep inside the cowgal, but they had no choice: it was either shuffle out of the bar or risk landing in prison for the rest of the day, maybe even longer if they were unlucky. So, with a heavy heart, and heavier everything else, the two women did their best to drag themselves out of the establishment, watched on all sides by eyes that veered from leering to just downright lustful. It was hard to put to words just what it was like for them: Abigail had a good two thirds of her total body weight concentrated between her legs at that point, made even worse by how she’d been thoroughly blue-balled and had no idea what to do beyond rutting to make the pressure go away. Anabelle, meanwhile, was pushing a pair of tits wider than she was tall, and an ass that was very quickly getting to that point as well, enough so that she had serious trouble going through the front door, and had to ask for help from many, many eager hands that very quickly sank into her plush rump just to help her through. When outside, where else could they go but home? They could just as easily start fucking one another out there in the open, but then they’d get interrupted and asked to leave again; best to drag themselves back to their apartment now that they were already out in the streets, even if it did need them to ignore their desperate need to get off for a horrifying total of five minutes. They were lucky Anabelle’s place was close by, but even this short walk was too much for them, enough for the two to actually start shrinking as well; while they would still retain some of their size, their bodies weren’t meant to remain at those ludicrous proportions for more than short bursts, and with no arousal to power them, it was only about half a minute before they were both returning to their previous selves. Still, they couldn’t keep their eyes off one another, and though they were noticeably smaller by the time they somehow managed to squeeze through the front door of the cowgal’s diminutive apartment, they were still far larger than they had been earlier that morning. Their gaze unbroken, it was really just a matter of one of them taking the first step and kickstarting the process that would leave them both floored and unable to really do much beyond fucking for the next several hours; yet, it was precisely these locked eyes of theirs that kept them from doing anything at all. They could still see themselves and the other, curves infringing upon their field of view, but the longer they looked, the longer they locked their sight with one another, the further it tunelled until all they could see was their lover’s face: the smile, the warm, soft, inviting expression letting them know that, despite everything, they were still home, and they could finally… well, not rest, but at least get comfortable. Didn’t take long before they were in each other’s arms, made slightly more awkward by the amount of boob they had between them, and even shorter still until their lips were locked and their eyes finally closed. They could taste one another, they could smell one another, they could sense one another, and this was all they could hope for… at least, for the time being. For those first few seconds before the floodgates opened, all they could need was one another, but as soon as that short grace period was over, it barely even registered; not that they didn’t love one another, but companionship and mutual adoration gave way to raw carnal energy and the primal, animalistic need to fuck one another’s brains out until they couldn’t walk straight, and with bodies as engorged as theirs, it was hard not to jump off the deep end. Ultimately, even with their arousal going as off-the-leash as it had back at the bar, they were still inside a public establishment, and part of them remembered this; now that the two were at home, however, there was nothing and no one there to tell them what to do within the privacy of their own walls, and the two were going to make very good use of this. Nevermind the fact that their collective size was already enough to fill up the foyer; nevermind how any more bloating would likely cause them to spill through multiple doors and fill the small living space they had. Nevermind how they were both very much aware of this and yet didn’t care enough to do anything about it: they were horny, they needed to fuck, so they would, end of story. Anabelle barely had the time to turn around and present a target before Abigail’s fingers were firmly sunk in her enormous asscheeks, already growing again now that the two women could get back to what they were doing; all the cowgal could do at that point was lean over, use her prodigious tits as something to rest on, and let the Nargacuga go at it. Not that anything else was needed, since the moment the cock’s tip first plunged into her, Anaballe’s mind, at least as it had been, stopped functioning properly; she’d been fucked with bigger ones, sure, and Abigail wasn’t shy when it came to stretching them both out with their complete disregard for safety, but very rarely did she get started with a dick big enough to rearrange her insides. The cow opened her mouth and let out something that half-resembled a moo turning into a moan halfway through, before her tits erupted with milk, spraying the walls with sweet, warm dairy… and then, only then, did Abigail pull back for the first time. There was a brief moment of respite before the second plunge came, and when it did, Anabelle blanked out; there was no way around it: her body just wasn’t prepared for the kind of strain it was being placed under, and the only way it knew how to handle it was to shut down completely and leave it in the hands of muscle memory and whatever else happened to survive the reset; the cowgal would wake up a few moments later, her feet in the air and locked firmly underneath Abigail’s arms, her legs spread wide to give the Nargacuga the room she needed to jackhammer that gargantuan piston of a shaft directly into a slit that seemed almost supernaturally welcoming to it. Down below, Abigail’s nuts were churning aggressively loudly, Anabelle’s tits joining in as each motion caused gallons of milk to splash out in front and below her, the whole room seeming to quake underneath the relentless onslaught of Abigail’s mindless rutting. The neighbors would be getting one hell of a show; they’d either need to leave or find something thick and padded to keep their ears from being violated by the ungodly noises coming from the home of “those two”. Even then, the shockwaves created by Abigail’s bucking were enough to make the whole building tremble, creating fears of earthquakes in those who weren’t yet accustomed to the kind of throat noises coming out of both lovers on a half-second basis. They should’ve stopped as well; both of them were too horny to know when to put a brake to the whole thing, which all-but guaranteed they would outgrow their surroundings and cause significant damage to the apartment block. Both Anabelle and Abigail were well aware of this reality, yet they couldn’t really bring themselves to do anything about it; to do so would mean to let go of their enjoyment, to forgo pleasure for even just a half-second, and they couldn’t abide by that. No, they needed to keep bucking their hips, keep thrusting, keep moaning, keep begging for more, keep growing, keep bloating, until they were too tired to do anything but too wired to stop; they had to be locked into muscle memory and forget about everything else, they had to become naught but machines powered by their lust for one another, pounding away until the seconds turned to minutes turned to hours. It was the only thing they could do, the only thing they should do; anything else would be a waste of their time, even if the walls were creaking and the doors were breaking within just a few short minutes. Sure, they were going to spill over from their apartment soon, utterly ruining the one spot in the city where Anabelle and Abigail could have some privacy, but soon enough, they wouldn’t need privacy; rather, all they’d require would be one another, and if anyone wanted to complain, well… too bad? Neither the Nargacuga nor the cowgal were at all interested in limiting themselves anymore; maybe beforehand, when they weren’t fully aware of how magnificent it was to let go and enjoy themselves, but not now; after tasting of purest pleasure, to turn back around would be an affront, heresy really, especially when a good half of all available space around them was taken up by Anabelle’s tits and neither her nor Abigail wanted them to be any smaller. After a while, this was the main motivation: they were huge, they liked being huge, and if at any point they stopped fucking, they would start shrinking; therefore, the simplest solution was to just keep going, and worry about any potential end points later, when they actually had to think about it. Not like their bodies weren’t built for those sorts of long-range sprints; really, the only reason the two of them hadn’t already splurged out like that was mostly because the chance had never come up, as they’d been too busy with Anabelle settling into life in the big city. Now though? Now they had nothing but time, and, soon enough, nothing but space as well. And they were going to make good use of it. *** For the rest of the street, things were perfectly fine. Apart from those unlucky enough to be in the apartment block where Anabelle and Abigail were getting busy breaking through their existing limits, no one else around really seemed to know that anything was out of the ordinary; the two gals were loud, yes, but the walls did inevitably muffle most of the sounds they were making, at least for those lucky enough to be one building or more’s worth of distance away. This, however, would not last, through a combination of their own lack of self-restraint and the simple fact that their growth fed one another until the only people that could actually stop them were themselves… and, naturally, neither the Nargacuga nor the cowgal were in any disposition to put a stop to what they were doing, creating a dangerous cocktail of unstable circumstances that could only ever end in one way: destruction. Not for themselves, of course, that was for amateurs who didn’t know how to live on the limit and ride it until the cows came home… and quite literally, at that, given how enthusiastically Abigail was plowing into the gorgeous bovine in front of her. And on her sides. And most every direction, honestly, after a certain point; there wasn’t a lot of empty space left in their home after a short while, most of it being Anabelle’s tits having grown to such a ridiculous size that the atmosphere in there was starting to feel like it was pressurized, almost as if the very air was packed into a tinier and tinier, and increasingly denser, volume. Either that or the two of them were just too horny to really think straight; that said, it was definitely hotter in there than it had been at the start, and for once, it was mostly Abigail to blame; the combination of her churning nuts and the musk produced by them, as well as the enthusiastic pounding leading to both her and Anabelle sweating madly from the strain, turned up the heat to such an extent that they were lucky they weren’t succumbing to it. But to do so would be to waste time, time they could be using to fuck one another even harder, to rail and get railed, until what little space there still was left inside of their home was quickly reduced to nil. Now, none of them were thinking about what would happen when they occupied every available inch; as far as the two lovers were concerned, this wasn’t even a concern for future them, much less the present version of themselves. No, their primary motivation was just to keep on rutting, and if anything got in the way, that something would just have to… move. Be it a wall, a house, a building, whatever else was stupid enough to try and stop them from enjoying themselves would just have to move if it knew what was good for it, unless it wanted to be unceremoniously pushed aside and ground into dust. Not that getting out of the way would do much, because everything would be flattened in time; neither of the two were willing to ever stop, so unless there was some hard cap to keep them from completely overrunning everything around them, then they just… would. No ifs, no buts, no ands, and thus they kept on going, oblivious to the amount of plaster falling on their bloated forms, blissfully ignorant of how the noises they were hearing were caused by their apartment block starting to collapse. For those outside the structure, the first sign that something was wrong came when one of the sections of the wall up on the fourth floor began developing cracks on it, seemingly out of nowhere; there were no earthquakes, no explosions, nothing that could indicate the structure was being damaged, and yet the cracks kept appearing on a rhythmic timing, almost like something massive and powerful was pounding on it from within the apartment block itself. The second sign came when the wall itself succumbed and was promptly pierced by two fleshy-looking nubs, ones that almost immediately poured out a thick, creamy white liquid that splashed down on the ground below with enough strength to overturn several cars and wash away multiple pedestrians who weren’t as lucky as the others who fled away in time. It took a bit before onlookers realized that what they were looking at were a pair of nipples, a pair of very milky nipples, and ones that were still pushing out through the walls on the same rhythm as the cracks had been forming on it just moments before; it took longer still before everyone watching did the math and came to the same conclusion almost simultaneously, though it certainly helped that the unseen Abigail pounded into Anabelle hard enough that not only did the cow’s udders bwoompf out with several more feet in radius, not only were they made to fill with thousands more gallons of milk, but Anabelle’s entire body was pushed forward from the thrust itself, causing most of their floor’s facade to crumble and the cowgal’s milktanks to flop out onto the outside world. Except, by that point, they didn’t so much flop as they did crash: with a thundering groan, the whole front of the apartment building fell beneath the weight of those titanic mammaries, and rather than a wet, meaty slap, what followed was a quake of cataclysmic proportions and a boom loud enough to pop eardrums when the cowgal’s overly stuffed, excessively densely packed tits were pulled down by gravity and caused most of the local neighborhood to jump in fright at the sudden and inexplicable earthquake. Right about the same time, something similar was taking place on the exact opposite side, as Anabelle wasn’t the one one whose orbs had grown to absurd proportions; Abigail too, and for lack of any reasonable way to empty them, had developed a bit of a backed-up issue of her own, though one focused between her legs rather than on her chest. Sure, her own tits had grown somewhat, but compared to Anabelle’s they might as well not even exist… now, her balls though? Those absolutely gargantuan, positively overstuffed, neutron-star-dense cumtanks she was having trouble moving each time she wanted to buck her hips and stuff her lover as much as she physically could? Now those, those were something the Nargacuga could work with, those were something Abigail could use to thoroughly and completely destroy her surroundings… even if she wasn’t exactly looking to do that. It was part of the process though; she could no more avoid flattening everything behind her than she could stop breathing, as it came just as naturally, just as inevitably, and far, far more pleasurably. Anyone could breathe, and to a certain extent, a whole lot of people could grow their balls out if they wanted to, but could anyone make the claim that their nuts were so tremendously overproductive that they could bloat up to a size bigger than that of an apartment, the building it was in, and a good half of the city block they belonged to? Just as Anabelle was covering the world with her tits out front, then it just made that she should be doing the same with her balls out back! Granted, the Nargacuga couldn’t quite well see what was happening; in between her being stuck pounding into the cow in front of her and having tits on every side, it was hard for Abigail to justify looking away from what she was doing just to satisfy her own curiosity with something that was, ultimately, pointless. What did it matter how big her balls were? Just as long as she felt them creeping up buildings, flattening parked cars and trucks, even collapsing entire chunks of the ground where the water mains ruptured and hundreds of tons of building materials were crumpled into thin dust, then she was perfectly fine; similarly, Anabelle had long-since stopped caring about whether or not her breasts were causing a scene, especially after she opened her eyes and, through pure luck and a very fortuitous angle, saw a single nipple topple an entire residential building, followed by a spurt of milk whose power was such that it outright cleaved through a second one. It was too much for her to bear, and the cowgal’s brain once again shut down completely; better to not function than be forced to try and understand just what the hell was even happening to the body it was commanding. Leave behind only the bare basics: let Anabelle breathe, let her heart keep beating, and allow her to feel pleasure, if only so the information backlog could be handled; this effectively trapped the cowgirl in an unbreakable cycle, whereby all her brain could do was let her know just how good she was feeling, which naturally only heightened her arousal, made her tits swell larger and fill faster, and caused even more horny energy to flow through her, leading to an escalating spiral that Abigal, just a couple of feet behind her, was more than happy to exploit. Couple of feet since, by then, it hadn’t just been the Nargacuga’s balls that had grown larger; it would’ve been good enough on its own, but a large set of cumtanks needed an equally sizeable cum dispenser to go along with them, and Abigail’s cock had stepped up to the podium to fill that role and do so wonderfully. There were, of course, a couple of feet in between Abigail and Anabelle, this much was undeniable; the issue was, those couple of feet were from the amount of shaft the Nargacuga couldn’t get in. The cowgal was very stretchy, enough to take a substantial amount of dick, but even they had their limits, and they ended just shy of about ten feet or so of organ-rearranging, body-stretching cock being plunged straight into her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Faced with more than that, well, there was only one way it could go, and it was out: hence why, despite everything, Abigail still had a good two feet of cockmeat sticking out from between her lover’s legs, and she had to make due somehow… especially since this number was only going to get higher as the two kept going. For Anabelle was very growth-happy indeed, but she was only such in very specific spots on her body: her tits were gargantuan, easily able to fill up multiple city blocks each one on their own, and her ass, while not nearly as massive, was still respectable enough that Abigail could only wish that it would one day sit on her. But the rest of Anabelle was about the same size it had been before; it was malleable, and more than enough to take more dick than most people ever could, but it just wasn’t keeping up with the rest of her. On one hand, this meant there would always be a hard cap to how much of Abigail the cow could have inside of her… on the other, it let Abigail turn her lover into a living, moaning, mooing condom of a milk-maker, and if that wasn’t exactly the dream scenario she’d been hoping to one day live through, the Nargacuga didn’t know what would be. So what if she wouldn’t be able to shove all of her shaft into Anabelle? She had a good ten feet in there and that was far more than most anyone else would ever have the pleasure of experiencing, so why bother worrying about it? Better to spend her time plapping against an ass that was so fat that each shockwave created by her thrusts seemed to carry on perpetually, crashing into itself as it coursed through the cowgal’s rump and spread to the rest of her body. And they didn’t stop either; almost as if the universe wanted Abigail to keep pounding, the more energy she put into Anabelle, the more their body felt like gelatin, jiggling and quivering to such an extent that it was a wonder the cow was even awake at all… though, to be fair, there was something to be said about whether or not that was the case. Truth be told, Anabelle had stopped being conscious a while back, and whatever random state she was in definitely was not anything close to being aware of her surroundings. She knew she was big, she knew Abigail was there jackhammering into her, and to a certain point, that’s all she needed to know; the cowgal’s involvement began and ended at being a sleeve for the Nargacuga to pump their cock into, and really didn’t need to go any further than that; what she was feeling at that point, that overwhelming onslaught of sensory overload, was more than she could’ve ever begged for, more than she could’ve imagined was possible when she first arrived in the big city. Spending so much of her life deliberately holding herself back for fear that she’d do damage to her surroundings, the notion of just letting go and enjoying herself, then thinking about the consequences never, was certainly… enticing. Years spent denying her true nature, now fully unleashed onto the world at large, now fully revealed for all to see; Anabelle didn’t care that each of Abigail’s motions caused a chain reaction that ended in herself leaking thousands of gallons of milk… though, perhaps jettisoning the milk was a more appropriate expression, given the speed at which it was being pressure-hosed out of both her milktanks and how much destruction it was wreaking to everything in front of her. But this was meaningless, ultimately; distinctions like those were a waste of her brainpower, which could be being used to process more important things, like how stuffed she was, or how big she’d grown, or how much more she wanted to bloat and swell and get railed and fucked like an animal by a cock that was only getting bigger by the moment. Brainpower that she did, indeed, put to use exclusively towards those ends; better to fall into a fugue state where nothing really seemed to register than it was to worry about anything other than her physical self… and to surrender herself to Abigail. Abigail, who on her end, had stopped really thinking about anything other than rutting as well. Past a certain point, the two of them were just too big to do anything other than fuck each other, and quite frankly, that’s all they could ever hope for. Why bother with anything else, when they had one another… and a whole city to flatten, but really, who was counting anymore? One city block, ten, the whole damned downtown, hell, throw in all the outlying neighborhoods as well; it was just a matter of scale and time by then. And the two of them had plenty of both to go around.

There wasn’t a lot he could do to satiate that immense, gnawing beast that his stomach had turned into, but Woz could certainly try regardless. It was a fool’s errand, one that wouldn’t end anywhere but in misery once he ate his way through whatever was left of his food supply, but it was either that or stand around doing nothing, and the alligator just wasn’t going to suffer that sort of fate. Thus, right after he felt his gut grumbling again, Woz turned around to face the ruined remnants of what used to be his home, a slight twinge of pain crossing through him as he realized that he was effectively homeless; big, fat, and certainly as massive as he’d always dreamed of being, but at the cost of anything resembling a roof over his head. Mercifully, the food pantry had actually survived mostly intact, perched precariously atop a half-floating chunk of flooring that hadn’t been taken by the waters yet; likely a result of his bed having been on the opposite side of the house, sparing his actual snacks the pain of being smothered underneath a burgeoning gator belly of absurd proportions. Not so mercifully, the pantry itself was still sized for what he used to be, not what he was; he might’ve certainly wanted to fatten himself up, but he had been several times smaller than before he took the potion, so rather than gorging himself on nigh-limitless quantities of food, scarfed down with abandon… he got a few bites in, after which he ran out of snacks to nibble on. Granted, they were still delicious, and deliciously fattening as well; his metabolism was so out of whack thanks to the witch doctor’s chemical concoction that, rather than having to wait for digestion like everyone else, Woz found that all he needed to do was take a bite out of whatever he wanted and it would almost instantly be added to his frame! It was certainly a welcome surprise, so much so that the alligator barely noticed as he burned through what was left of his foodstuffs; one moment he had his head shoved inside his pantry, the next he was staring down at an empty spot in space, having devoured not just the contents of the pantry, but somehow the pantry itself, leaving him with a mouth full of curiously painless splinters. Still, it felt like there should’ve been more, or at least he was so hungry that he felt he deserved more; certainly, him having fattened a couple of pounds almost instantly after swallowing a couple of weeks’ worth of food was nice and all, but that was just it: those were a couple of week’s worth food, and not a single ounce more. Looking around him, all Woz could see were the chunks of wood that used to make up his domicile, no longer enough to hold a body that was so massively oversized for it; no sustenance, no snacks, no unhealthy amounts of delicious cooking to delight himself with, just the dreadful emptiness of an empty larder and an even emptier stomach to remind him of how close he was to just ripping out some trees and eating those; it didn’t help that his body immediately reacted to this emptiness by having yet another gas bubble form inside his stomach, releasing in a burp that was, while still powerful enough to bend trees around him, mercifully not nearly as long-lived as the first one. Thankfully for him, a distraction was well on its way; a burp like the one he produced after his transformation was finalized couldn’t possibly go unnoticed, especially not during a lazy Sunday afternoon, leaving the whole bayou wondering just what the hell had made such a loud noise. Everyone, from the lowliest insect to the largest of the colossal gators that made the swamp their home, converged on Woz’s location, slowly coming to realize that’s where they were headed; a few began wondering if the whole thing wasn’t a prank on the smaller alligator’s part, as surely a pipsqueak like him would never be capable of belching with that amount of power. It wasn’t until eyes were firmly on him, and his brand new pudgy self, that Woz’s transformation was actually revealed to the world, just about at the same time as Mama Josephine began cackling before turning her music back up, satisfied that her magic had worked the wonders it was meant to. Not that she intended for things to have gone that far, but hey, the gator was owed a little bit of a break after so much time wasted with no results, so why not let him have some fun? He certainly had his work cut out for him, given the amount of people converging on his location; Woz was still reeling from the sudden bloating and from the complete lack of any appreciable amount of food to make the beast in his belly shut up for five seconds when he was practically mobbed, dozens of the bayou’s residents popping out of the destroyed treeline hoping to catch a glimpse at the monster responsible for the devastation. What a wonder, then, that they would be seeing Woz standing in the middle of it all, looking so radically different than usual that most of those who first laid eyes on him genuinely believed they were experiencing some sort of visual hallucination. It wasn’t until the massive gator turned around a couple of times to try and greet everyone, then promptly slipped and fell down with a massive splash of water that everyone agreed: yup, that was Woz. No one else could be that endearingly clumsy, not to mention the frantic nonsense words that came out of his mouth as he struggled to get back up and failed miserably; a couple of the larger alligators standing nearest to him walked past the crowd, wading through the debris-covered water to give their newest brother-in-size a good pull. It wasn’t every day that they got to watch one of their own grow to such absurd sizes, and that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that it was Woz of all people, the pipsqueak who barely even managed to put on half a dozen pounds even when he gorged himself on a regular basis. To see him so immense that he actually towered over everyone present, well… it was quite obvious that something was out of the ordinary there, and a few even guessed correctly when they thought about the possibility of voodoo magic, but no one bothered to say anything about it; regardless of how it was achieved, Woz was big, and that was all that mattered. They made sure to let him know as much, with a large crowd of gators all rushing to give the now-biggest among them a series of pats on the back and encouraging words, congratulating Woz on finally getting to see his dream come to fruition. It was overwhelming, in a sense, for him to be so accepted so quickly; resorting to Mama Josephine had left the alligator genuinely believing that everyone else would push him aside, decry him as a faker who only achieved his size by illicit means rather than being naturally born that way, or working his way up the size ladder properly. Yet instead, he was on the receiving end of playful ribbing and a handful of fat jokes, not unlike what the other gators did to one another; for once, for one delightful moment, Woz was part of the group, and no longer had to worry about fitting in with the big boys… until he showed up, of course. Woz berated himself for having forgotten about them, the one person who could be given a house full of gold and still find something about it to complain about, and, quite unfortunately, the only one who still gave a damn about maintaining the “proper” hierarchy. Then again, one could easily understand why: as the biggest alligator around, Antoine used to be the prime example of what a true heavyweight should be like, never mind the fact that most of the people around him couldn’t even begin to stand his presence, let alone enjoy his company. It was just hard to avoid him; at ten feet tall and heavier than a long-haul truck, Antoine liked to act as though him being the biggest of the big somehow gave him the right to lord all over everyone else in the bayou, and with strength to match his stout physique, not a lot of people could think to match him blow for blow if it came down to it. This went a long way to explain the crowd’s warm reaction to Woz’s inexplicable fattening: he might be colossal, but surely he was still the same Woz as always, the same placid soul who wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it were to save his own life. Granted, there was a lot of damage done to his environs, but one couldn’t blame him for failing to contain his growth spurt; by sheer contrast, Antoine often went out of his way to be destructive, claiming that because no one had “dethroned” him, then he could do whatever he wanted with the bayou and no one could do anything about it. It made it entirely unsurprising when he pushed his way to the middle of the crowd, where the large group of alligators had surrounded Woz, only to cross his arms over his immensely rotund belly and then stare his kin down like they were naughty children. “Honestly, no manners!” he loudly bellowed, addressing the crowd around him as if they cared in the slightest about what he had to say, “The rest of us spend years working hard, you decide to take a shortcut and now you’re asking for the same recognition? Surely you must be kidding, little man.” It apparently didn’t occur to Antoine that Woz hadn’t asked for anything, nor that he’d reacted to all the attention with a very obvious blush that still hadn’t gone away. Perhaps the now-second-smallest gator didn’t care; perhaps he was simply too oblivious to notice. “Well, I say that you have not earned the right!” Antoine declared, dramatically pointing a finger towards the much taller alligator he fashioned his newest rival, “Not until we’ve decided who among us is the real biggest eater… in a contest!” Woz was about to say something when he felt someone slap him on the gut, causing it to wobble and slosh. It had been one of the smaller gators in the group shushing him before turning to face Antoine themselves. “I think that’s a fantastic idea, Antoine” - the tone couldn’t be more sarcastic if they wanted it to be, and yet somehow the interloper still failed to notice - “In fact, I think I speak for all of us when I say we would be more than happy to finally settle, once and for all, who’s the real biggest gator in the bayou, wouldn’t you say so fellas?” A round of murmuring from the rest of the reptiles assembled around Woz, who just then realized what was actually happening. He never expected to be at the center of a scheme to get Antoine to either screw off or at least learn some humility, but he had to say, he quite liked being part of the gang, so he quickly learned not to say anything that might endanger the plan. “Excellent!” the self-proclaimed lord of the bayou replied, swishing his tail as he performed an overly theatrical about-face and began walking away, “I shall see you by Mama Josephine’s place in three days’ time; bring all you can eat, and we’ll see how long you can last against a real giant, little man. ‘Till then!” With that, Antoine barged through the outer perimeter of onlookers before vanishing into the depths of the swamp, only the ripples on the surface of the water visible where he swam through… at least until his dumptruck of an ass eventually surfaced. Everyone around Woz gave it a couple of minutes to let Antoine get out of earshot before they turned back around and resumed congratulating the newest biggest gator around, that time around making it clear that they weren’t so much expecting him to win as much as they knew that whatever happened, he’d already won. And that was the case, wasn’t it? All Woz could think about, as he was surrounded by familiar faces all beaming at him, was how much more colourful everything looked, like a filter had been taken out from in front of him and he could finally see the world for what it was. So what if he still had an eating contest in front of him before he could finally rest easy? He was famished; having an entire event where he was expected to do nothing but scarf down as much food as he could physically shovel into his mouth wasn’t just something that he wanted to do, it was something he knew he had to do as well. With his new body being so much better at absorbing calories, clearly the best way of taking it out for a spin would be to force it through a stress test and see just how much it could consume before begging for mercy… and, given just how heavily his stomach was rumbling at the mere thought of the contest taking place, Woz doubted he’d ever actually stop. Not that he mentioned this little titbit to anyone around him, of course; best if they didn’t know just how deeply his new hunger ran, best if they kept believing he was merely big enough to stand several feet taller than everyone else around him. Best if he presented himself as being nothing short of giddy and enthusiastic for the contest taking place (not that this was exactly untrue), even offering to help with whatever was needed before being courteously turned down. He spent the ensuing days travelling from place to place in the bayou, crashing at a myriad of people’s homes (or, well, outside them) while he waited for the inevitable showdown; no one really gave any thought as to what would happen to him afterwards, nor what would have to be done to ensure housing, it being far more convenient to only consider the actual event itself, and think of the consequences… never. What mattered was that Antoine was about to be put in his place and reminded that the swamp belonged to no one, and if they needed to then worry about another ravenous gator ready to ravage the local food supply, then that was a good enough trade-off as far as most of the residents there were concerned. Mama Josephine even offered to provide music for the contest, provided they didn’t actually hold it anywhere near her place; in her words, the last thing she needed was a “pair of handbags” rolling over her home when they “forgot their table manners”. Not the most elegant of ways to put it, but not exactly wrong either, especially not when one considered just how little any of the alligators currently cared about maintaining the most basic level of decency when eating; one could only imagine what Antoine and Woz would be like when they truly cut loose and brought their full ravenous hungers to bear. Indeed, by the time the contest was supposed to begin, both of the alligators had already parked their wide rears in their assigned spot for a good day or so, having chosen to stick around and wait for the final preparations in a way that let everyone else build the whole thing around them. There was a significant amount of work that had to go into it, after all: from procuring the food itself, which seriously strained not just that section of the bayou itself, but the larders and stocks of several of the towns around it, to building the tables on which the food would be served, which not only had to be tall enough to rise above the swamp waters, but sturdy enough to survive the inevitable bloating and mindless gorging. A full day, whereby Antoine kept glaring sideways at his supposed “usurper”, while Woz was blissfully unaware of the stink-eye being directed at him, preferring to think about how delicious all those meals being cooked smelled. Everyone living in the bayou pitched in to some degree or another, with most of them being assigned to kitchen duty; most of everyone’s homes were effectively turned into factory lines designed exclusively to pump out as much cooked food as possible, while the rest busied themselves with both assorted construction and whatever random tasks needed to be done outside the checklist. The whole swamp was taken up in a frenzy of activity, and Woz marvelled as the empty clearing that was picked for the contest was slowly transformed into something that wouldn’t look out of place in Mardi Gras, from the lavish decorations, to the endless hubbub of the hundreds of little ones scurrying about, and the food. Heavens above, the meals themselves looked and smelt so delicious that both Woz and Antoine were, at one point, joined together in a common goal: forcing themselves not to rush forward and start eating. It was hard, hard enough that plenty of the other gators suggested the two should be physically held down, but through a combination of iron discipline, endless flattery on Antoine’s part, and the promise of a double portion for Woz, the two contestants just barely succeeded in keeping themselves in check; they even managed not to start gorging when the day of the contest rolled around and the meals themselves were placed on the immense banquet tables built just for them, their muzzles dripping with drool as the two didn’t even try to hide it anymore. Sure, most of the delicious cooking itself was reheated, thanks to the immense logistical effort that went into producing that much food in the first place, but that hardly mattered so long as it was just as delicious as before; in fact, Mama Josephine had even gone out of her way to “spice up” some of the dishes with a few sprinkles of what she assured everyone was just paprika, though no one believed this for even a second. Regardless, with Antoine ready to devour his way back to the position of leadership he thought he had, and Woz just being outright famished, barely a microsecond passed in between one of the other alligators declaring the contest to have begun and the first bite being taken, so quick in fact that the announcer hadn’t even finished his word properly before having his back be sprinkled with an unhealthy amount of sauce. After the initial shock wore off, however, the assembled crowd burst into cheers, all calling for the name of their favoured contestant… which just so happened to almost entirely be Woz, since even those who actually wanted Antoine to win knew better than to make this known amidst a crowd who would settle for nothing less than the second-biggest reptile in the bayou being taught a lesson in humility. It had already started, to be fair; a whole day of the two of them sitting together had left Antoine feeling increasingly pissed off at the fact that Woz was just so big by default; with a good six feet of difference between them, not to mention the amount of pudge that the bigger gator had on him, Antoine had convinced himself that the only thing he actually objected to were the means. Petty jealousy didn’t square with his own opinion of himself, since clearly he was the undisputed top dog (top gator?) around those parts, so obviously he couldn’t just be jealous of someone. No, what he disliked was the way that Woz achieved their size goals, which was, as far as Antoine was concerned, nothing more than cheating. A magical shortcut, taken because the pretender couldn’t be bothered to do things the proper way, leaving him so much larger that they were left with a serious need for an attitude adjustment. It clearly wasn’t because he was jealous of Woz’s size, that was just ridiculous, and he would prove it by not just outcompeting them, but by outgrowing them as well… at least, in proportion. Meanwhile, Woz remained entirely ignorant of Antoine’s thought process, being slightly too concerned with his own hunger to really do anything else; he’d been fed during the wait, of course, but nothing really seemed to fill him, at least not to the degree that he wanted to be. It felt as if, no matter how much food he ate, no matter how delicious or heavy, he always craved for more, always more, even though eating anything at all was a recipe for disaster given how quickly he fattened up even with the smallest of snacks. In fact, this was one of the reasons why Antoine was so interminably angry: not only was Woz bigger, but he grew larger with every mouthful, something that couldn’t be said for anyone else. Of course, the gator giant didn’t see it as cheating as much as just a reflection of who he truly was; the only reason he hadn’t already become as gigantic as he was then was thanks to some unfortunate freak accident of genetics that granted him a metabolism that seemed unwilling to put on any weight at all, so now? Now that his true potential had been unlocked and he no longer had to worry about whether or not something would fatten him? Now he could focus entirely on gorging himself on much food as he could muster, almost literally shoveling it into his mouth as he moaned his way through a feast that anyone else would’ve thought big enough to serve multiple people, yet for him was little more than an entrée: roasts, stir frys, baked goods, even simple stuff like scrambled eggs, everything was present and accounted for, and if he didn’t have it in front of him at any one moment, he could be certain that all he needed was to wave at one of the many people moving plates around for them to bring him even more delicious food to mindlessly consume. It was enough that even Antoine, though he tried his best to focus on eating as well, couldn’t help but occasionally glance sideways at the absolute monstrosity of consumption that Woz had become; perhaps the worst aspect of it was that, as much as he’d like to think that this was something novel, Antoine knew that his competitor had always been that ravenous, and it just so happened their body had never gone along with it. To see someone like that, sitting just mere feet away from him, the fraction of their body submerged under the swamp waters growing increasingly smaller as their form bloated far in excess to what it should, left Antoine feeling genuinely terrified for the first time in his life. Not for what might happen to him, seeing as Woz wouldn’t squash a mosquito if it was getting drunk on their blood for weeks on end, but because of what all that growing meant; while it was easy for him to keep acting as if he was the ruler of the bayou, Antoine had to admit, he could see this fantasy slipping away from him with each bite that Woz took, with every inch the other alligator’s body grew, becoming ever more gargantuan as they ate through their side of the stockpiled meals with such gusto that one would be forgiven for thinking they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Woz was scarily efficient at doing so as well, though mostly thanks to his immense size making it easy for him to consume increasingly large quantities of food without having to go through the trouble of chewing on them; all he needed was to open his mouth wide, dump a whole gumbo in there, and then delight in the sensations that came with having his gut bloat further, his fat multiplying as the more he ate, the bigger he became in real time. Unfortunately, the fatter he turned out to be, the emptier his stomach became as well; with him being capable of absorbing every nutrient in every bite in every snack, he never truly felt full, not even when he had several meals’ worth of junk food stuffed into his stomach; as he grew larger, so too did his gut’s capacity improve, leading to him entering a downward that spiral could only truly be fixed one way: though it pained him to debase himself in such a manner, Woz eventually stopped eating altogether, giving Antoine a brief moment of respite and an inkling of hope… before loudly asking the other people come “help him out”, then throwing his head back and opening his mouth as wide as it went. It was obvious what he wanted, and though the other alligator wanted to complain about it not being in the rules, the crowd around them, by that point stoked by Woz’s continuous gluttonous transformation, couldn’t care less about what “rules” were. Instead, they rushed forward, grabbing whatever dish they could before doing their best to climb over the larger gator’s immense, bloated form, finding it surprisingly easy, what with how soft their pudgy self had become. Once on the top, they’d drop a whole plate’s worth of food into Woz’s mouth, then throw themselves into the bayou’s water, to grab another dish and restart the whole process all over again; for Antoine, who hadn’t even finished everything on his own table, seeing this left him unable to take another bite… though mostly because, despite his bluster, he was already feeling stuffed even before wanting to ask for fourths, while Woz seemed perfectly happy to pick up the slack and devour everything that had been prepared for the two of them. He wasn’t thinking anymore either; as far as the larger gator cared, so long as he felt the delicious twinge of flavour move down his gullet every second or so, as long as he had something being given to him, then he was in heaven. He was there, finally able to grow fatter and pudgier on his ravenous hunger alone, surrounded by so many people who were all so wonderfully willing to enable him; he couldn’t ask for a better personal paradise, not even when his frame bulged out over Antoine and the gator was left wanting to apologize profusely for getting so close into their personal space. He couldn’t help it though; past a certain point, Woz’s body had become so fat, so unbelievably heavy, that he literally couldn’t move anymore, at least not without external assistance. He felt his gargantuan rear take up so much space down below that nearly all of his body was above the waterline already, his legs and arms vanishing underneath an avalanche of bloating pudge; he was turning into a colossal lard ball, and while others might have objected to this, Woz only wanted it to go faster. He wanted to feel himself vanish underneath his own form, to feel the heft of his fat burying him beneath so many stacked folds that he wouldn’t be able to do anything on his own even if he tried… since, after all, this meant that he could reasonably ask for others to keep feeding him and they would have to do it, just like they were then, just like they were so eager to do. And by the end, once the final meals were delivered to him and Woz felt the last vestiges of flavour leave his tongue, by the time that his body had become so vast that it looked more like a collection of soft green spheres than anything else, by the time that his head was so thoroughly surrounded by neck fat that the only thing keeping him breathing was his snout, poking up from amidst an ocean of blubber… he finally felt satisfied. Not full, never full; at no point would he actually feel like he couldn’t eat anymore, because that just wasn’t the way things worked. He could always take another bite, consume yet more of his body weight in whatever random junk was thrown his way; but still, for the time being… he was fine. More than fine, in fact, as he felt the familiar sensation of what was unmistakably a burp forming deep within him; thankfully for everyone involved in the fattening process, this created enough of a rumbling all over Woz’s pudgy self that they knew to get the hell out of dodge. Not so thankfully for a certain someone, the sheer amount of quaking that came with the incoming explosion, certain to be far more potent than any other that any denizen of the bayou had ever experienced, was enough to get the immense alligator’s body to start rumbling and physically shifting, unable to hold onto itself as one gigantic, flabby ball. As if ordained by fate, poor Woz ended up falling sideways, the shockwave creating a concentric mini-tsunami that washed away anyone not careful enough to either brace themselves or run away… and leaving him firmly pointed at Antoine. The former “king” of the bayou had maybe a second or two before they saw their competitor’s mouth, the only part of their head that he could see, open wide; one more second before the burp came out, so vastly overwhelming that Antoine didn’t actually hear it. Rather, one moment he was sitting there, and the next he no longer felt the ground beneath him, his entire form lifted into the air by the updraft created by a belch of such unimaginable proportions that, by the time it was over, a good forty or so minutes later, the whole clearing had been flattened; even the water was pushed out, leaving Woz alone at one end of a hundred-yard long, cone-shaped disaster area where nothing but the barren dirt beneath him remained, Antoine naught but a twinkle in the sky, on his way to falling down in some forgotten swamp a few miles off. But still, Woz finally felt satisfied. If a bit peckish.

Things had taken several turns for the worse ever since Terza decided the best thing to do to fix their collective problems was to turn on the proverbial tap and allow her mistress Starry to draw upon her own infernal power. While the issue of mobility was solved, under a certain definition of the word, everything else had been made several times worse by virtue of the amount of volume they occupied; it became so difficult to even move inside their house that the succubus had to use her magic in order to warp its dimensions, inviting just the tiniest smidgeon of Hell into it in order to make it bigger on the inside. While this did increase temperature so that it was constantly at near boiling, Terza herself was used to it and the vixen had become demonic enough that it didn’t bother her too much; besides, neither of them needed any food, being able to rely on one another for nourishment, thus making spoilage… not much of a problem. What was a problem was just about everything else. Yes, they could move around inside their home again, but that didn’t do anything about the fact Starry was taller than a regular building story, nor did it resolve the issue of her having a pair of milk makers so utterly hyperproductive that they doubled over in size every single hour unless they were actively drained, something that neither of them really had the energy to do anymore. It fell on an endless series of pumps and drains that all inevitably failed at one point or another, leaving Starry feeling like things were going out of control and she couldn’t do anything to stop it… yet somehow, and despite her previous complaints about it, the vixen felt more at peace with that thought than ever before. She didn’t wake up every day cursing those mounds she had attached to her chest, neither did she have the energy to complain to the demoness about how much they had ruined her life, because frankly, they really hadn’t; Starry had never felt so good before, to the point where she was walking around fully nude even outside of her home and no longer cared what anyone said about the “demon fox” and how that was a portent of the end times. They didn’t even know the half of it. Terza and Starry no longer needed to be next to one another to feel their link strengthening; the power transfer between the vixen’s multidimensional other selves and the succubus was on such a grand scale that it interfered with electronics between the two’s location, enough that, on any given day, a large chunk of the city was plagued by constant power outages and overloads, breaker boxes melting down in a cascade of sparks becoming a daily occurrence. Even at work, Starry couldn’t avoid things breaking down, normally a death sentence to an establishment that relied heavily on electronics, but perfectly acceptable seeing as the vixen worked there; no one came in for their coffee or snacks, but rather to sample a mouthful of the demonically-infused milk that constantly poured out of her colossal tits, the line of customers being at least half a mile long on a slow day. Starry herself had taken well to the new routine, even if just a couple of months prior she would’ve found it downright abhorrent. Walking around was impossible, given that she was taller than the diner, thus requiring her to sit down on one end of the building with her back to one wall and her neck slightly bent forward. In front of her, her bust splayed over her lap, were the real moneymakers, permanently attached to a set of industrial milk pumps that were kept on at all times, lest something terrible happen; all it took was a momentary distraction for Starry’s productivity to grow out of control, and the moment that happened… well, the building was insured at least, though it was doubtful whether the company would pay off in the event of a growth burst-induced complete meltdown. Still, Starry was happy with her new arrangement; she got to milk herself on a regular basis, show off to the customers, and feel as her physical form slowly swelled with each passing day, having long since accepted the fact that her day of ascension was getting closer by the hour. Before long, she would be yet another of the many, many versions of herself that filled up the multiverse, and that was fine; she knew from day one that it would happen eventually, therefore making it completely pointless to try and fight it. Everything she had ever done had only ever been an attempt at slowing it down. It all culminated in a night just like any other. The diner itself had already closed down, with Starry telling her boss she’d be sticking around to finish up their accounting reports before heading back home; justifying the sudden lack of any purchases while maintaining profits made for a massive fiscal headache… enough that Starry failed to notice that the breasts she was using as an impromptu table to hold up her laptop and assorted sheets of paper were somehow filling up; it was so gradual, and the vixen so used to that happening, that she didn’t even realize it was taking place until some of the previous months’ filings began to slide down her bust and onto the ground, prompting Starry to look to her side and realize that the suction cups were no longer attached to her. Left without something to actively drain them, her milkers began to expand to deal with her production, until finally even the vixen couldn’t ignore it. Throwing everything onto the ground, Starry struggled to crawl her way towards the building’s entrance, finding it incredibly difficult to do so now that most of the space between the ceiling and floor was taken up by an overbloated pair of tits that refused to be dragged along, forcing her to bring all of her strength to bear on them. This resulted in quite a bit of rubbing of sensitive areas, nipples especially, causing the poor vixen to slowly lose control over her voice the closer she got to the exit. Valiantly, she held onto whatever was left of her sanity before trying to force her way outside; her boss ordered a set of double-wide, extra-tall doors installed precisely for her, one that took up most of the facade on that side of the building, and still they were now too tiny for her. Starry’s eyes widened at this realization, especially given she went through just fine at the start of her shift; sure, it was a tight fit, but it was a fit, and yet now, even a single one of her mounds was too large to go through the whole thing, even when she put all of her weight behind each push. The road outside was flooded by her red-hot milk, spurts of it cracking the pavement wherever they landed and upending cars whenever anyone was unlucky enough to fail their dodge roll, sending parked vehicles flying with very little difficulty. Everything in front of the front door became a landscape of lactic bliss, coated in a thick, white sheet that seemed to emanate with plumes of steam from how intense the heat was. And with every squirt squeezed out of her, Starry moaned louder; with every gush of dairy, her breasts bloated even harder, until the vixen was no longer pushing herself forward by dragging her feet across the floor of the diner, but doing so by pushing off of the wall opposite the front door. Her bust was growing at an alarming rate, enough that each mound would soon be as big as she herself was… and that was a pretty good thought as far as she cared; poor thing was so addled by lust that merely thinking about a pair of tits bigger than her whole body was enough to get the insides of her hips lubricated with what had to be the quickest climax of her life, a bright red blush adorning her already scarlet-tinged cheeks. She was stuck between knowing she needed to empty herself and the incessant need to give in to the growthlust, and now, she was literally stuck inside of a building that wasn’t big enough to let her get out. Starry was no longer in control there… but her body was. At about the same time as it got ready to do something about the vixen’s predicament, a few miles away, back in their house, Terza felt something odd: a tingling around her chest, almost like the sensation one felt when sitting on their arm for too long. She had never experienced it before, and though it wasn’t altogether bad, even the succubus knew better than to assume it was anything but disastrous; something big was going to go down, and there would be no stopping it. Back in the diner, and with Starry now stuck in a perpetual moaning cycle, her bosom had officially taken up every cubic inch of space that wasn’t already occupied by the rest of the vixen’s body. She was flattened against the ceiling and the back wall, barely able to breathe, and yet continued to beg for more from no one in particular; at least, until her body listened and gave her exactly what she wanted. Seeing as the problem was having an excess of milk and a lack of a way to adequately vent it, even given the enormous spurts of liquid tearing through the buildings on the other side of the road, then clearly what she needed were more ways of ensuring her milk was emptied out properly. In the absence of any machinery, this meant more vents: in her case, more breasts. It seemed like such a simple solution that, for a brief moment, Starry wondered how neither her nor Terza ever thought of it before. It felt so liberating to finally be free of the tight confines of architecture, the whole diner being reduced to rubble flying through the atmosphere when her second set of milk makers grew in underneath the first one, rapidly filling up and inflating to match the size of her first one. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but it did feel amazing, and it served to do exactly what it was meant to: in the few seconds she had before things went to hell and never returned, her extra set of mammaries did indeed help to drain her milk out faster… it was just a shame that they had their own supply to deal with, thus worsening the problem overall, but it was the thought that counted! Unbeknownst to the vixen, there was a very good reason why the succubus never suggested the two of them go down that path. Terza, being linked to her mistress in ways that even she didn’t quite understand, was nonetheless well aware that a change on that caliber, especially done so quickly, would inevitably backfire in spectacular ways; indeed, the tingling on her breasts was the sign things were about to fall apart, and right before they did, the demoness sighed, sat down on the immensely oversized couch, and relaxed every muscle on her body. First, her breasts expanded, each one doubling in size in an instant, completely covering her body and leaving the succubus pinned down by a pair of tits so unbelievably massive that they’d soon be developing their own gravitational pull. Then, just as she was getting ready to prepare to process this, her very own second set grew in underneath the first one, bloating to match its size and smacking her topmost row straight into her face; Terza believed this to be the end of it, as surely anything more drastic couldn’t possibly take place… right up until the tingling got worse and their expanded living room turned into a repository of breastflesh. Each one of her four breasts exploded with size, enough that, by the time they were “done”, each one alone was big enough to account for the size all four had been before the last growth spurt, leaving poor Terza completely pinned underneath the weight of her own bosom. And if that wasn’t enough, the succubus had to deal with a third pair of tits blossoming at the very bottom of her torso, not only pushing the first two up so much the ceiling began to crack, but triggering yet another cycle of inflation that ended up with every single one of her tits being nearly fifty times the size they used to be before the tingling started! Terza could do very little but sit there and try to breathe while hoping to come up with an explanation, her ability to maintain the dimensional distortions growing weaker the more her bust continued to press against the boundaries of their hellish home. Luckily for her, no more changes came to pass in the immediate future… Unluckily for Starry, the link the two shared was about to pay off in a grand way. While the succubus was off experiencing her own growthsplosion, Starry was enjoying a few minutes of peace and quiet underneath the moonlit sky, the cool breeze helping to keep her internal furnace of a heart under control and reducing her libido to merely hyperactive enough that she wanted to fuck her own tits until they were a million times larger than the planet, a welcome change to her usual fare. The vixen got maybe a couple of seconds of advance warning before the changes wrought to her lover’s body travelled down the energetic tether that held the two together and slammed into her at full speed, causing such an immense amount of psychic feedback that Starry’s voice cracked from how hard she yelped. Immediately the vixen’s tits began to bloat yet again, each one gaining feet after feet while barreling through everything in their path, razing every building to the ground as if they were made of dust and ash, almost literally vaporizing them as if they were absolutely nothing. Starry’s body knew how big Terza’s multiple busts were, and seeing as it was the vixen who was supposed to be in charge there, figured the best way to use all that energy would be to force each one of her four breasts to grow to the point where they were all just slightly larger than all of the demoness’ busts combined. This obviously left the giant vixen stranded atop two pairs of milk factories that put even her enormous body to absolute shame, looking like nothing more than a measly add-on to the real stars of the show underneath her, sloshing infernally loudly as the jets of cream firing from her teats only became stronger with each passing moment. And the best part about it? They were still filling up. And faster than normal as well; unbeknownst to the vixen, not only had her sudden development of another bust led to a reaction and counter-reaction due to her link with the succubus in terms of size, but it also had an effect on her productivity as well. This meant both that Terza was already producing her own cream at a dangerously fast pace, enough that everyone in their apartment building was wondering where the broken pipe was, but Starry’s own milkiness was spiked to absurd degrees, resulting in not only a much faster doubling-up rate, but also a quicker journey to the next step of her ascension. Because her body wasn’t done with her; if anything, suddenly developing a second row of milk makers and being stranded above them was only step one of goodness knows how many, and it wouldn’t do to just give Starry what she wanted by invoking an exponential growthplosion that made her bigger than the whole cosmos. No, no, no, she needed to earn that herself, through hard work, dedication, and a great deal of succumbing to her own lust that she had been holding back for so long. Now free from the compunctions that had ruled over her when she was still the tiny, insignificant vixen that thought having breasts as big as herself was too much, Starry smiled, tapping into the same source of power that had been feeding her for the past weeks; she felt Terza on the other end of it, pinned down underneath her many busts and practically unable to move thanks to their weight, and giggled at the sight of the succubus having to slightly stretch their torso just to be able to accommodate for the extra pairs of tits, something she herself no doubt would have to do. As much as the demoness had been a great lover, and an even greater friend, now it was Starry’s turn to take over the material plane, and to do so, she required ample amounts of power; power that Terza could provide, assuming she was fine with being turned into a living gate of sorts. Thus it was that the vixen tapped into the near-infinite amounts of demonic energy stored away inside of the hellish dimension the succubus had come from, forcing it through Terza’s body and then siphoning it via their very special link; the goal there was to make the rest of her own body grow large enough to be able to walk again, with Starry having many ideas on what to do now that her breasts were so large they could crush buildings. An “unfortunate” side effect of this was that some of the power she was gorging on just happened to stick Terza when it passed through her, not only making the demoness grow several sizes in just about everywhere, but also spiking her newly-discovered lactic production to levels that could rival Starry’s own… back when she was still room-sized, of course, no one could ever hold a candle to her in their new, improved form. Within seconds, her body became large enough that it began to slide off the top of her quad-bosom, her feet touching the ground again before becoming strong enough to lift those weights attached to her chest. Straightening her back led to her head being far above most roofs in the city, giving Starry a perfect view of all the things she was fated to flatten once she got down to business and accepted her destiny as the new ruler of reality. Already she could feel the many other selves trying to break through the dimensional barrier, hoping to be the first to invade her timeline in order to pour the sum total of all that she was into the newest addition to their menagerie; our Starry, however, had other plans, better plans, plans that involved hijacking Terza’s involvement and not merely accepting her other selves’ gifts, but outright taking them for herself. She would not be satisfied with merely becoming like the other goddess Starries; she alone would stand amongst the entirety of the multiverse, and if anyone else like her wanted to complain, they were welcome to take it up with her after she was done absorbing every other version of herself. Seeing as she was making her intentions well and truly clear, plus how shameless her theft was, the denizens of Hell were scrambling to try and stop her from going overboard before something truly irreversible happened. Never before had their dimension been breached by a mortal like that, and for good reason; being an infinite plane of highly-charged demonic energy, any attempt at siphoning it stood a non-zero chance of utterly obliterating reality even with the most self-contained of mortals. Starry, being Starry, was as far away from that description as possible; she was slurping up as much of that power as she could, paying no mind to the consequences, the effects rippling throughout the (literally) countless demons all working in tandem to try and stop her. Most would simply have their assets bloat as Starry imposed her will upon them, others transformed into foxlike versions of themselves, then turned to corrupt everyone else around them. Even the higher-level demonic bosses, those colossi that stood hundreds or thousands of feet tall and resided in burning brass fortresses wrought from the innards of conquered planets, began to feel the call, the allure of succumbing to a lust that was greater than even their own. The vixen was turning all of Hell into her personal playground, and doing so purely so she could siphon it more efficiently; she didn’t really care about its denizens, just that they stayed out of her way when she stole from them. Once she was done, or at least done for the time being, Starry stood tall enough that even her oversized quad-tits looked only mildly massive on her, just enough that her lowermost pair hung below her knees while the topmost one made it hard for her to see… for now. They were still producing so much milk that their size was impossible to pin down by default, and now that she had given up trying to exert any level of control over herself, they were truly going wild with their productivity; if before Starry thought that doubling in size every hour was excessive, now she was downright distraught that she was only doing so every thirty minutes or so by her own estimate, even if the sizes involved were so colossal that the absolute values were off the charts compared to her previous state. Not to mention that she was still in full flow; her filling growth had doubled up even with four jets of milk constantly being pressure-hosed out of her swollen nipples, vaporizing whatever they were pointed at and doing a fantastic job of flooding the city’s sewer network; despite it doing its best, every single first floor of every single building in a mile radius was already underwater (or undermilk, as the case may be), with the creamy covering growth both wider in reach and taller at the same time. She was producing and outputting more milk than the entire world’s supply of dairy put together ever could, and yet still there was so much that she could see her breasts bloating in front of her eyes. More was needed, but she was already draining Hell for all it was worth and leaving Terza a complete mess in the process; without her lover there to help her, there was little she could do but allow herself to fall to her knees and let her hands take over, both of which were just barely able to hold onto a teat each in order to enjoy the pleasures of treating herself like a milky moocow. Of course, the succubus wasn’t just going to take it all lying down, mostly because doing so ran the risk of leaving her smothered underneath her many bosoms; she had already burst free from the confines of the couple’s apartment building, reducing it to smouldering ash and burning rubble, and had been making the trip over to where the enormous Starry was busy tugging on her own tits. The demoness could barely think straight, her brain flooded with emotions she was never built to understand; all she knew was that her body needed to be bigger, because every time she took a step, one of her six (goodness, six) breasts rubbed up against something and it made her far too horny to function. With her milkiness being what it was, by the time the succubus was next to her lover, she was about as big as the vixen was in terms of height, though their bustline was still immeasurably smaller compared to Starry’s. Unfortunately, it seemed as if her partner, the love of her life, was no longer there to welcome her, having succumbed to the allure of her wall of breastflesh. This was fine, this was alright; Terza could work with unbridled pleasure, that was her nature at the end of the day. And now that she had Starry right there and begging to be filled (which Terza interpreted as being directed at her rather than the vixen’s own tits), it was child’s play to divert some of the vast amounts of demonic energy coursing through her towards her nether regions, quickly developing a brand new, building-sized, twitching, throbbing cock with which to service Starry and make her belly be at least as large as one of her mounds. However, it was only after Terza allowed her shaft to grow upwards in order to give it the proper size that she realized she forgot one crucial detail; or rather six very important details. Three pairs of breasts creating three cleavages and six milk makers that all sloshed and pulsated with their insanely overproductive bounty, all there for her dick to grow into and be massaged from every side, right before it poked out the top and bumped her in the chin. Terza had thought she was capable of holding back her own lust. She believed herself strong enough to power through the arousal and deliver it to Starry instead. She was wrong. The demoness fell backwards onto a building that hadn’t yet been razed, leaving behind a cloud of dust and the occasional bit of concrete that miraculously escaped. Her own mind had blanked out, replaced with nothing but the amount of muscle memory required to use her hands, legs and feet to work her balls and breasts in a titfuck that would never, ever end, all while her whole body was still being forced to grow in every direction. If not for her cock’s tip being shoved into her mouth and giving her something to do with it, Terza’s moaning would absolutely have joined Starry’s own; as it stood though, only the vixen had the freedom and right to make her arousal known to everyone for several miles around, even if the noises were growing increasingly muffled thanks to the titanic amounts of boob sprouting from Starry’s chest. Her quad-bust was rapidly approaching a breaking point, where the same process that had triggered her ascension would repeat itself and make the both of them so unbelievably immense that it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes for it to take place again, and again, until they were stuck perpetually developing more and bigger rows of milk factories until all of reality was naught but vixen tit and the occasional bit of demoness. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; neither of the two women were in any position to pass judgement on… anything, what with their minds having been reduced to their most primal instincts and unable to process anything that wasn’t the more barebones of instructions on how to pleasure themselves. In fact, by the time Starry’s body grew bloated enough that it decided it had to do something about it again, there was very little of the dominant Starry in there at all; her will had been imposed upon the world, and thus the world would answer, freeing the vixen up to focus on losing her mind in the process of becoming a new goddess of her world, the stepping stone to all of reality. Thirty minutes. That’s how long it took before her breasts reached their “maximum” capacity and her body, sensing an opportunity to do something about it, decided to do what had worked so great before: give her more milkers in order to vent the excess productivity, or at least that being the excuse it told itself. In reality, it was nothing more than a convenient excuse to make the vixen even larger than she was, triggering a series of reactions that would leave both Starry and her demonic lover so unbelievably titanic that the planet would start to feel cramped afterwards. For the vixen didn’t just grow an extra pair like last time; in fact, she hadn’t done so the previous time either. What truly happened was her body doubled the number of breasts she had in order to provide an “out” for the excess production, so now that she had two rows… The ground quaked underneath the onslaught of breastflesh that erupted from within Starry’s body, imposing itself onto the city and flattening an even larger chunk of it. The four new tits inflated to match the ones they sprouted underneath, once again pulling the vixen off her feet and onto a sloshing, wobbling bed of milky bosom that seemed to stretch forever no matter where she looked. Their size was already something of beauty, and yet it was clearly not enough; much like Terza before, each individual mound took a look at all others, realized it should be the size of them all combined, and then the city’s downtown area suddenly developed a very large crater that quickly filled up with milk, all while the white flood continued its inexorable rise to every building’s third floor. The sudden rush hit Terza like a freight train, and for a few brief, unbelievably ecstatic moments, the multi-breasted succubus, now more boob than sentient being, was bigger than Starry was… at least in total size. Three rows of tits each developing two more, every milk factory multiplying its size by the number of other breasts next to it… everything was bosom, everything around them. And as soon as Terza was done, it was Starry’s turn to undergo the multiplication again, and suddenly the downtown area just ceased to exist altogether, replaced with eight tits of such unbelievably excessive proportions that the vixen refused to make the rest of her body accompany their growth; it would be criminal for anything to be that size. Starry breathed a moan of relief knowing she had a few minutes to rest before the real show started and her next multiplication kicked in. But that’s when she felt something she hadn’t the last time: a second wave. Another jolt of power that bounced back towards Terza before the vixen herself doubled her number of rows, a surge that turned the demoness into even more of a tittymonster than before. A surge that hit Starry mere moments later. The city was going to love this one.

Barely two hours into the shift and Naali already had a pounding headache to take care of in addition to the stupidly high number of people who thought it’d be funny to spread lube all over the floor after the chemist left the windoor open. It was bad enough that the clown enjoyed having that trick in their repertoire on a daily basis; she ​did not need​ a bunch of bored civilians wanting to mimic that caked-face abomination. And yet, the past thirty minute or so had been spent reminding her officers that, unfortunately, breaking people’s legs was no longer permitted after the tiny incident with the mime being beaten so loudly they actually started screaming. The Warden swung by her office to leave a copy of the many, ​many​ reports he filed, along with the mug of decaf that she requested. With most of Command screaming into her headset after one of them slipped into a wall and had to deal with being laughed at (woe was them), she had to deal with the bureaucratic aspect of it as quickly as she could. Which meant stamping the forms in quick succession and then shoving them into the nearest filing cabinet before slithering out towards the cell block. Gods, even her decaf tasted weirdly that morning, she couldn’t even get enjoyment out of her one little pleasure. The noises coming out of the cells were becoming uncomfortably familiar the closer the massive snake got, if only because she’d been forced to hear them every day for the past six or so years. The banging on glass, the shouting of profanities, the calling of names, it was all the usual; for her, not a day went by that she wasn’t called something horrendously offensive and yet somehow based on some kind of wordplay on “noodle”. The inventiveness of prisoners was always a spectacle, even more so when it vanished the second she brought her full size to bear on any of them. But today she didn’t quite feel like putting on the domineering mask she normally did; far too much work, far too much lube, not enough sanity to go around to distract her from the headache she was feeling. So when the Head of Security snaked her way to where her Warden was trying to reason with someone at the business end of a stun baton, the only reaction she coaxed out of herself was a sigh and a slight grimace. “Lube?” she asked, reaching into her jacket to find any smokes left from the previous shift. “No, just some chucklefuck tried breaking into the CMO’s office,” the Warden replied, trying to stick the baton into the cell without having it yanked from his hand, “looks to be the genuine article, boss.” Interesting. Naali lowered herself just enough to see the perp eye-to-eye; clearly not the rabble she was used to, that was for certain. This one was far more lively, yet his motions were more precise and fine than the wild flailing most of the rabble rousers displayed. No, this one knew when to wait and when to strike, and was eyeing that baton far too carefully for her liking. Someone as juicy as them shouldn’t be given access to a tool like that. What an odd thought. “Put that away,” she told her second-in-command, “I’ll handle this one myself.” The Warden barely got a word in before his boss opened the reinforced windoor and crawled into the now-cramped cell, ignoring the pleas of the few members of her team that saw that happen and were now shouting about how dangerous the man could be. But Naali knew better than to be scared of someone as puny as the little thing eyeing her up with equal parts fury and fear. To her, he was naught but a tasty, round morsel waiting to be devoured, to be tasted like a fine meal as it was slowly mushed inside of her. It didn’t occur to the snake that she was breaking all sorts of protocol when she allowed her predatory instincts to take over; by the time her jacket had been thrown off, there was very little of Nali, the Head of Security left in her, by comparison with Naali, the very hungry serpentine creature that saw helpless prey and decided it was time to satisfy the gnawing hunger inside of her. The poor man got a few extra seconds of freedom before the snake’s jaw unhinged and her neck lunged forward, completely covering the prisoner’s head, shoulders and upper torso and then lifting his body into the air like it was nothing. The struggling and squirming served only to ease his passage down the wet, throbbing folds of Naali’s throat, each kick and punch nothing more than a tickle to her, yet another inch lost in his battle for freedom. The Warden got a good view of the bulge the man’s body created as it travelled down Naali’s neck, settling quite nicely once it reached her stomach. Where once there had been the sounds of shouting and struggling coming from the cell block, there was now only stunned silence and the gentle, low rumbling of the snake’s stomach as its contents’ muffled screams slowly but surely vanished into the thick slurry being made out of them. Before long, there was nothing but a soft gurgle and the patting of Naali’s hands as all the extra mass rapidly settled around her form, though mostly serving to elongate her already-lengthy tail, gaining a couple of extra feet and a few inches of girth all around, as well as extra padding around the bust. None of this seemed to register with her as anything out of the ordinary, nor the fact that she just executed someone by eating them alive and turning them into slurry for her body to appropriate. It all seemed so irrelevant when she observed the rest of the prisoners backing away until they were flat against the wall of their cells, eyes widened in terror once they saw the slithering beauty make her way closer to them. It was exactly the kind of reaction she adored, the kind of reaction that stoked her primal instincts even more. There they were, scared little prey staring up at their devourer, quietly begging for the next person over to go first. It was music to her ears, and she almost felt overwhelmed with the overabundance of choices. Fortunately, the cells had numbers of them. And with Number Four clear, it was time to start properly at One and go down the line, enjoying the screaming every time she succeeded in squeezing her coils into the increasingly-tiny amount of room each holding space provided. Down and down the prisoners went, her team off to the side observing the feast, some reveling in it, others staring in slack-jawed horror as no one did anything to stop Naali from scooping up prisoner after prisoner; soon she went from gobbling them up in one gulp to savouring them like the delectable little treats they were, letting her long tongue coil around and up their legs until it began constricting their chest, before gently lowering them into her waiting, ravenous maw. One after another, they were swallowed whole, left to plunge into the growing pool of acid that made short work of their struggling bodies. It was almost a shame, really; her body had taken to the whole exercise so well that Naali barely got any excitement out of feeling them squirm once they were dumped into her stomach, a last-ditch futile attempt at freeing themselves and escaping their inevitable doom. ​Almost​, since the effects the binge was having on her were… quite something. Naali never quite envisioned her tail growing that long, enough to go from one end of the main Security hallway to the other, thickened and fattened to the point where most of the corridor’s ​width​ was taken up as well. And yet it wouldn’t be this newfound size that made her any less of a fighter than she already was; the last prisoner found that out the hard way once he tried making a run for it, only for that gigantic tail to snatch him up and nearly squeeze their fluids out of them with how hard it pressed against their body. Perhaps most interestingly, once Naali was done clearing out the bureaucratic backlog and placed her hands on herself to admire her handiwork, she’d find quite a bit more pudge than normal around where her hands used to rest. Did she just spontaneously develop a pair of hips just so she could fatten them up even more than her tail had? Certainly seemed like it, and not a moment too soon, as all those hefty prisoners had left quite an impression on her figure top-side; Naali doubted that she could even put her jacket back on with how much her chest had burgeoned out, much less zip it up to cover the surprisingly heavy orbs she was sporting. Devious thoughts swam around in her lust-addled mind once she cupped her breasts, especially once she began sashaying her way to where her officers were waiting for her in various states of undress. Having kept her headset on, Naali had the faintest idea of hearing the Command staff calling for a Code Red over her actions in the Brig, but that was easily ignored once the earpiece was thrown aside. Pushing herself up to near the ceiling, the Head of Security offered up a warm, deliciously inviting smile as she licked her mouth at the sight of so many treats yet to devour. “So, who’s ready for seconds~?”

(F tf Mimic, Hyper vulva tf) Elissa's heart quivered as she stepped through the absolute darkness. She has a ring with an illumination spell trapped in the crystal on it, but it does nothing here- even if she had a traditional torch the flame would still burn but it would generate no light. This darkness is Eldritch- it is hungry, and devours all light that contacts it. This also of course means that it is extremely cold. Since her eyes are utterly useless in this area, she must rely on sound- which is not of much help either, but better than nothing. Every tiny sound she makes echoes around her- the chamber is quite large, which makes the darkness all the more unsettling, because there could be any number of hidden nooks or monsters looming around her and she would never know. Because it echoes so easily, it is hard to determine where the sound originates from. Avery walks right behind Elissa but mirrors her footsteps to minimize the sound they make, and does not say a word; being just as scared as Elissa, if not more. She did not want to come here in the first place- it seemed like a bad idea, but they were both down pretty bad. Elissa is a warrior, while Avery is a rogue. The dungeon they are in now is known only as Sheol. This is the second time the dungeon has been discovered, but after the first wave of adventurers came here, the entire area was swallowed in a void and only just recently dissipated, allowing a second wave of adventurers to kill themselves in it trying to loot it. Quite a few parties had come here already and exactly none of them have returned, so whatever riches are in Sheol... are still here. They walked for ten minutes through the impenetrable black before exiting back into the regular darkness of the dungeon. So far, Elissa's reasoning on coming here has proven true- the two of them have encountered many traps, but all of them have already been triggered by the people who attempted it before. They however have seen thin gaps between floor, walls, and roof, and some giant stone clockwork mechanisms that seem to indicate that this dungeon has multiple forms- it can change shape, so depending on when you come here, it may not even be possible to access certain areas at all. Avery found a golden statue holding a large inscribed golden sphere to a pedestal and almost touched it before Elissa yelled at her and pulled her back. The golden statue has scraps of clothing hanging onto it- it used to be an actual man! The golden sphere turns anyone who touches it into gold, had Avery grabbed the sphere she would become a second statue. Both women did lean around the pedestal and admire his golden cock though before moving on. The next trap they encountered is a life-sized chess board. Neither is sure exactly how to solve the puzzle, but luckily they did not have to- someone else already did. The Queen on the black side is an actual person, screaming in pleasure she fused to the base of the piece which was effectively a giant stone dildo, and then petrified, becoming the Queen. She opened the huge doors behind her by doing so, but since she is petrified she cannot use the door she opened. Like the man, her clothing did not turn to black marble with her, but unlike the man her clothing is intact- her death was much more recent. If the women could pick her up and carry her out, a Magister might be able to cure her, but there is no way they can lift the life-sized marble statue, so she will have to remain screaming in pleasure eternally. Down several corridors they also encountered a hall with many mirrors embedded in the walls- deliberately divided from the main path by a deep rift to prevent people from simply stepping up to them and breaking them. The rift was filled with rats- people who looked into the mirrors. Looking into them will cause you to transform into a rat. The pathway is littered with rodent-gnawed clothing and equipment from the former adventurers. At this point they were both sort of just wanting to get out alive. They had passed so many former humans who have been trapped forever in Sheol, and travelled so deep into the unknown that they just wanted an escape more than treasure. Thanks to several one-way trap doors however; they could not return the way they entered- they needed to find another way out. The two made a good pair though; Avery made any locks they encountered trivial- as long as it was the sort of lock that required a key, she can pick it no problem. Elissa is quite strong allowing her to shove open doors that are too large for the average woman to possibly open, and thanks to her chain mail she can endure hits, allowing her to take the lead with more confidence than Avery could. Avery started to slow down. "W-what if we don't find our way out?! There is no guarantee there is another door in here!" Elissa cocked an eyebrow at her. "How would the people who built the structure in the first place have gotten back out if there was no other door? You can't go back to the front door." "How do we know they got out?! Their dead bodies may have just been built into the damn walls! We have not encountered any monsters, which seems standard fare for dungeons... which means the reason there is none is likely because there is no way in or out of this area, so they would just starve to death." Elissa put her hand on her hip, the other rested on the pommel of her sword. "Now you are just being pessimistic. If the lower levels were sealed we would have suffocated. You feel that? There is a breeze. There is no wind underground- that air has to be coming from somewhere." And so they followed the faint draft through the narrow, maze-like halls. Because the walls were closer together here, spiders seem fond of making their webs- or at least, they did at one time. Now no longer occupied by living spiders, the aged webs made faint crackling sounds as the threads broke as the women pushed through them. The came to a wide but shallow chamber with a huge door and a huge skeleton laying on the floor beside it, propped against the wall. It was humanoid but gigantic and it had two heads. Elissa motioned to it with a nervous smile. "Oh hey, it is that monster you wanted! An Ettin by the look of it." "I didn't WANT a monster!" Elissa went up to the door and examined it, using the light generated by her ring. "The breeze is coming from here but... there doesn't appear to be a mechanism to open it." "Oh great... so far all those types of doors we have encountered so far were already opened... and required a sacrifice to open." "Mmm... well, we won't know till we find it. You go that way, I will go this way. Don't go too far though... if you think you might get turned around- come back." "Right." Avery wandered the opposite way as Elissa, using a traditional lantern she had strapped to her back since she does not have a fancy light ring like Elissa. True to her role as a rogue; she is not fond of dangerous situations so she was very leery about coming here in the first place. She owed Elissa a lot though. They met when Avery robbed her blind of a huge loot score from another dungeon. Elissa caught her, and the standard punishment for such crimes in the area is a finger for every twenty gold worth of items- so by law Elissa could have chopped Avery's entire left hand off in punishment, but did not punish her at all. Instead, she is now Elissa's adventuring partner, by debt. Avery winced at the sound of crunching below her feet, and knew even before looking down that what she was feeling on the bottom of her boot is bones. Billions of tiny bones- rodents who wandered this deep into the dungeon only to realize they had no hope of moving the massive doors themselves and then died from lack of a way back out. A rancid smell started to get stronger in the air, telling her it was only going to get worse. She found a dead end at the other side of the hall- she can tell the wall is meant to move so this hall can continue- it just doesn't right now. There was two rooms that branched off- she would have to go back and check those now as the only alternative. The first room on the way back is unfortunately where the acrid heavy air is billowing out from. It was hard to tell what she was looking at, at first. The room is almost entirely scorched black, and spreading out from the back of the room is rotting gore that was formerly a human- the impacted skull was one of the most whole parts left of the body, and the easiest to identify it as a human with. A nervous smile dawned on Avery's face as she held the lantern out and seen what had happened here before. There is three huge chests lined up along the back of the room- or there was. The charred remains spread out from where the third chest had been. An adventurer came here before and opened a trapped chest which then exploded- blowing him to bits as well. That means the trap chest is already cleared however- the other two were for Avery. This is convenient because it is also quite close to the exit. There is a chance one of the remaining two chests contains a mechanism to open the door and not treasure- but at this point; that would be just as valuable to them. Obviously the dungeon did not just plop chests here without locking them, but they had regular key locks- which means Avery can just use her lock picking skill and forgo having to find the keys. Honestly she was still half expecting the chest to explode and paint her remains across the other side of the floor- there is nothing guaranteeing that all three chests aren't traps. She paused in fear when the lock clicked open but breathed a sigh of relief as she opened it and nothing exploded. Inside the chest is filled with coins! Bronze, silver, and gold; all the coins etched with runes of a forgotten language with the faded relief of a lost king's bust on the other side. The chest itself is huge, so there is no way she could lift it, so she took out a leather bag and held it to the edge and just pulled the chest forward to dump its contents into the sack. She called to Elissa who came running in shortly after so she could carry the remaining amount of coins while Avery got to work on the second chest. Elissa used the empty first chest as a shield while her friend worked the lock on the second, just in case it also went kaboom. Again, the lock clicked open without triggering anything else. This chest did not contain any conventional treasure however- it contained what looks like an egg. The egg is black with very thin, vein-like red lines around its surface. "The heck is this?" Elissa shrugged. "Could be a monster egg, or some rare mythical species. It can't be just a conventional creature egg, because it would have died and rotted in the chest." Elissa slowly backed up, placing a hand idly on the pommel of her sheathed sword just in case. She seen as the sklera in Avery's eyes turned from white to bright red, and her iris turned from brown to an unnaturally bright yellow. She cried out in surprise and her mouth split straight through her cheeks, revealing all her teeth turning to fangs inside! She grabbed her face to cover the deforming mouth, but the hole in her hand was now also a mouth in which you could see through, so it did not do a good job of covering anything. Her other hand dropped the lantern and the muscles inside bloated and squirmed around, feeling cramped. As soon as she tried to flex them the skin sucked inward forming a seam down her arm which quickly tore open! The two sides of her halved arm formed the top and bottom jaw of a long, narrow maw! The bones turning to ribs around the roof and bottom jaw and into fangs at the edges. Some of the muscle formed into the top and bottom jaw to operate it, but most formed into a huge tongue lashing around randomly between the two! On the outer facing sides; it still looked like an arm. Both women watched in stunned silence as her breasts started to balloon rapidly. Now the skin around the changed areas is turning black like the egg, including her inflating tits! Her breasts caused her leather top to groan and stretch. With dull pops the seams holding the leather top together started to bust, since the leather itself is far too durable to break so easily. Her massive boobs bubbled out of any tiny gaps that formed, fighting for more space! Avery was also locked in place- the bottom of her legs looked like a melting black candle- her skin was literally oozing out over her shoes onto the ground. The further up her legs the transformation went, the lower to the ground she became as her legs literally melted. Her giant breasts finally burst out of her top, destroying it and wobbled back and forth violently. They are too round and far too light- they do not at all react like normal breasts should. Her nipples vanished into holes for a moment, revealing they are now the ends of long tongues as her breasts both split in half across the middle into two gigantic mouths full of tiny needle-like fangs! Her facial features started to smooth over as her head turned black and a bulge on her collar tore open to reveal another massive eye at the base of her neck! By now she looked like a horrific monster trying to fit into human clothing. Her moans seemed to emanate from all of the additional mouths as well, and her human mouth vanished. Her body writhed this way and that; new mouths opened and closed, more eyes, less eyes, deforming and reforming. The longer the process went the harder it was for her to hold her shape, till she sloshed out of her clothes entirely- and then she had no shape at all. What had been Avery was now a writhing mass of fangs, eyes, organs and some... skin? It was hard to tell skin from the other organs at this point other than what Elissa assumed is supposed to be skin is the black-red and the organs are the pure red masses covered in webs of thin violet veins. It seemed to try to talk several times, but Avery could not form words. Her mouths lacked jaws. Elissa could still see the worry in her demonic looking eyes, so whatever took her body did not claim her mind- it was still Avery in there. "C-can you hear me Avery?" It made some moaning and squelching sounds. "Uh... three taps for yes?" It clicked a fang on the floor twice, then had to wait till a roll of its flesh rotated far enough to bring another close enough to click on the ground to make the third. "Okay. Well... we... might be able to fix you if we get you to a sorcerer. What you touched must have been a Mimic egg. It was probably placed there to act as another trap but someone forgot to hatch it. Unfortunately you hatched it in your own hand so it fused with you." Mimic typically act as dungeon traps- they are monsters that take the form of whatever vessel they are placed inside. Had it hatched inside of the chest, it would have become the chest, and bit the arms off anyone who attempted to get inside of it. Avery is now a Mimic but... she has no vessel. Without a form to steal a Mimic cannot survive- it has no shape of its own! The obvious choice would be to pick up Avery and pour her into one of the two empty chests... the problem with that being that Elissa cannot pick those chests up. Avery would get a form but she would then be trapped in Sheol unable to get help for her condition because she would be too heavy for Elissa to carry out on her own. "Wait, you have the same mass as a person, you just don't have any solid parts anymore." She pulled her collar away and motioned to the opening. "Which means my outfit is big enough to hold you, and reinforced with metal to boot. I will get on the floor- try to get inside of my clothing; we can try to share an outfit. Awkward as hell but... I don't see any other way." She got down on the floor and immediately winced at the feeling of Avery squirming into her clothing. It felt like warm pudding flowing down her body, except for the occasional fangs floating around that used to be her skeleton. She is wearing plate boots and the armor overlaps, so Avery should not be able to fall out her pant legs, so once she was mostly inside, Elissa once again stood. Avery pooled in her cleavage a moment as her mass dripped down through the tight cleavage. Elissa nodded and started back toward the main room to look for a mechanism to open the door. If she cannot open the door still- then neither of them gets out. Avery made some alarmed sounds and suddenly sloshed downward faster as her body reached Elissa's hips. Elissa flinched and pulled her hips back in a futile effort to escape her touch as Avery unintentionally slipped into her panties. Elissa shrieked and stumbled back as Avery flowed into her pussy! She told her to cut it out, but after a moment she realized that Avery can't help it, her body is reacting on its own. Elissa felt the black goo ram against her cervix and felt a cramp as pressure was put on it, causing her to get own onto her hands and knees trying to find a position for her torso where the pressure was less. Avery broke into her womb though- being mostly liquid she was able to penetrate even the one-way door of the cervix. Elissa moaned and stood upright on her knees, now holding her belly and frantically loosening the straps on her gear with her other hand- her stomach started to inflate with goo! Her gut gurgled loudly and rounded out till she looked full term pregnant! Now Elissa's armor wasn't even on right because she had to unfasten half of it to avoid her guts getting crushed. She tried to get up, and fell completely down, knocking several of the huge Ettin bones away as she fell! Pleasure started to fire through her from her crotch like electricity! Tiny hair-like threads spread from Avery and caused them both to writhe with unexpected pleasure- their nerve endings were tangling together! Elissa realized with horror what had happened! She meant her outfit to act as a temporary vessel, but Avery's body decided her pussy was a better container! If her vulva is the vessel... that means the mimic will become... her vulva. Nerve and blood vessels branched between the two, linking them together. Elissa quickly undid more and more straps tossing her heavy chain mail away and kicking her pants and panties down so she could better assess the damages. Elissa's clit throbbed in time with her heart and was rock hard and growing! It inflated but did not grow longer, so the tiny pink nub became like a neon pink marble, then a grey-pink ping-pong ball. The electrical, buzzing pleasure inside was driving her nuts, causing her to push on it with stationary fingers to try to ground the feeling with outside stimulus. It sort-of worked, but only a little. Her eyes wide with a strange mix of fear and arousal as her clit throbbed still bigger! Her entire pubic mound started to swell out slowly, getting more and more pronounced and more and more soft since it was projecting further out from the bones of her hip. The skin started to look slightly grey as the mimic flesh blended into her own, but the clit lead the way on both of these fronts. From her viewpoint it was starting to look like a pink egg coming out of her, rather than her own clit. Its coloration darkened further to look almost bruise-purple and its size started to approach softball! It was so huge she could rest her entire hand around it- though didn't since it is so extremely sensitive. Every time Avery tried to squirm around to figure out what was happening to her own body, she caused both of them to orgasm! Elissa could not believe she had her back to a skeleton in a dark, dangerous dungeon, and was squirting pussy juice all over the floor between trembling legs. The inner labia stole the mimic color faster than the outer, turning bruise purple but never completely black since Elissa's own skin color still existed in it. Her stomach shrank faster and her pubic mound inflated bigger now. Her fat outer labia pushed on the inside of her thighs causing her to open her legs against her own desires. The mound projected far enough off her body that it was like a soccer ball between her legs, but fused to her crotch. No longer time to save face, Elissa decided to fuck it and just dive in. She cupped her hand over her clit and squeezed gently, immediately causing her body to spasm erratically from the pleasure- and she was not even moving her hand, she just used it to squeeze lightly. The blood pressure was built up so hard in her gigantic clit that when she squeezes it she can actually feel the flow forced out and then immediately shoved back in when she releases it. Both inner and outer labia billowed larger, starting to look like a giant exotic flower. It is so large that all she can really do it grab onto the labia on the left side and knead the soft flesh in her hand. At this point her pussy was expanding further down between her legs than it was around, making it longer than it is round, but still relatively round. At first she could not see any changes, but felt a stiffness digging up toward her stomach, but not from in her stomach this time. It was under her skin but in front of the pelvis. Her vagina actually made a dull *thunk* sound and was forced open a moment as the muscle ribs of the walls expanded forward! The freakishly distended pubic mound grew tall for a moment, and then her entire crotch stretched forward, and then all the way up to her belly button! Her hips popped loudly and expanded and her entire lower body became slightly conical! It felt like it was trying to turn her entire torso into a gigantic male masturbator! The inner walls of her vagina relaxed and pressed gently back together- though the passage is now many times larger still. Elissa leaned forward and pressed in on the top of it with both hands! She could feel the body of the clit inside of her pussy travelling up since all the vulva that extended off her hips was so soft- the hardness of the clit in contrast made it easy to identify. She could not reach around to penetrate herself at this point and both arms at once might still not be enough, so by pressing in with both arms she collapses the entire passage from the outside and rubs it that way around the shaft of the clit- which at this point is the only thing giving it any structural integrity. Her pussy opening started to look glossy black, fading to bruise purple and then grey-pink at her actual crotch. Avery realized she had control over it too, and Elissa's pussy suddenly clamped shut on its own and ground the labia together while she rubbed around the clit and top. Her entire body convulsed and her vision exploded into stars from the blinding pleasure of having a gigantic pussy with about ten times as many pleasure receptors as it used to have. She absolutely exploded a jet of hot, viscus liquid across the stone floor. *Holy shit that was intense...* "A-Avery?" *... can you hear my thoughts?* "Yea! Oh... our bodies are tangled together now. I am the host vessel for you." *So can you just nest people inside of other people indefinitely by doing this? If the mimic becomes whoever they touch and then whoever they touch touches someone else and also becomes them....* Elissa lowered her brows. "Yea, I am pretty sure we already hit the limit. I did not turn into a mimic, just the shell for one." Avery tried to scrunch herself up to help them get up but the pleasure pulses from the movement caused them both to roll back to the floor for a moment gasping breathless moans. After a few attempts they paused and seen a line of light cross the chamber and widen! Elissa looked to the huge door and seen it opening as a rough looking man opened it from the other side! Oh of course... the door only opens from the other side; it's not an exit it's an alternate entrance. Elissa was about to shout out her thanks in glee but remembered she has a pussy the size of a small beanbag chair between her legs exposed and frantically grabbed for her pants to stuff all her womanly meat in to cover it. The man also looked like a rogue; a class just as likely to rob her of the sack of coins than he is to help her in any way. The man blinked several times, not fully able to see her in the dark having just come out from the daylight, but also not believing what he was seeing. Elissa tried to get the pants on, but it couldn't work. The huge pussy was just... TOO big. She managed to get to her feet at least, and she still had the sack of coins and her sword with her if he tried to give them trouble. "Woooow. That sure is... something." Elissa blushed bright red. "Y-yea. I need to get back to a sorcerer in the town. We... er, I did not find that much- there is still a lot of Sheol unexplored so... you can have at it, I am out. Most of the traps along the main path are already set off, so it's not TOO dangerous." She had to walk very carefully because her labia were so big around that they pushed into and even somewhat wrapped around her inner thighs, so when she moved her leg she also moved the labia on that side. They are also still embarrassingly dripping from ejaculating all over the floor not that long ago. When she tried to walk past the man he just held out his arm to stop her. "Well now... how about a reward for opening the way out for you, hmmm?" He moved his hand toward the giant, moist mound of impossibly soft, rubbery flesh. "All that meat and you didn't offer me a nibble?" Elissa's pussy opened abruptly on its own, baring rows of sharp fangs along either side of the inner labia and the end of the clit split open to reveal a large demonic eye. Avery gnashed her teeth just slow enough that the man pulled his fingers out of her biting range. "AAAH." Elissa huffed and continued walking. "If you don't keep your hands to yourself- my meat will nibble on you." Well... it is going to take a while to walk back to town without pants on, but at least she doesn't have to worry about being taken advantage of. Mimic are carnivores after all- you put a hand near it; you lose a hand. It does feel awfully good being fused together though, so if she finds something large enough to actually use as a dildo on the way back, they wouldn't mind a slight detour either.

Serpent of Storms Kai let out a sound of disgust as he slid out of his wet leather armor. He'd thought himself thrifty when he'd purchased an inexpensive riding cloak and spent the savings on drink. He'd already pitched the sodden cloak into the back of Zola's wagon, however. Thankfully their belongings were covered by a tarp. He'd scoffed at his travelling companion's suggestion that they pool their funds from the last adventure and get a covering for the wagon. He was most certainly going to see to it the next time they had something to sell. The rainfalls down in the flatlands were tremendous, heavy things. Not like the light mistings that he and Zola were used to in the mountains. But she had been far more prepared than he. She'd sent him into the stone shelter they'd found just off the road, and she'd had to use her powers over the forces of nature to coax an overgrowth aside that had blocked the old roadway. As always Kai was awed by the magical power she displayed in being able to manipulate plants in that manner. It had seemed like leaves and branches had subtly twisted themselves to keep the rain off of her and dump it right onto him. He wouldn't put it past her, after all she was rather fond of seeing him bare to the waist, or bare past the waist, or just bare in general. Kai was surprised that Zola had chosen the path of the druid, rather than the Totemic Warrior that he had taken. They were quite a pair, Zola with her unusually large size for a female minotaur going to the less physical, more passive route of the nature-sorcerer, and him the comparatively diminutive male that gave up a head of height to pretty much everyone in their home village. That was what happened when one was a human living amongst a tribe of minotaurs; for a human Kai was absolutely huge and impressive, but amongst his own people he was tiny. He was comparatively small in regards to the minotaurs, but very fearsome. His differing anatomy came in handy during the training battles with the other warriors. He had no horns to grab and his knees bent the wrong way, allowing him to deliver powerful forward kicks and to easily stagger and trip his fellows. His horses nickered happily and nosed at him, glad to be out of the rain and for resting. Both seemed anxious for what usually followed having their harnesses removed. Kai had forgone his usual rituals while they were in the city. That sort of thing was frowned upon, even when one's horses were of fey stock and quite intelligent for animals. Kai had chosen the Totem of the Horse for strength, speed, and endurance, and there was always a delicate balance of essence required to get the most out of it. It involved stringent practices of keeping his natural energies balanced with the totemic power of the horses, as well as keeping male and female essences in the proper ratios. Typically two parts male to one part female. Much more and the overwhelmingly masculine animal essence would put him at a short temper and eager to battle. "Okay, okay," Kai chuckled, patting the stallion and mare in turn. "Just wait until Zola is back with the firewood and I can get dry and warm, okay?" He sighed and looked over the stone enclosure. At first he'd thought it a cave, but now that he was inside Kai could see that the stonework had been smoothed, some blocks put into place where the natural walls did not cover. He kicked dead leaves off of the carved titles in the center, revealing what looked to be a dragon. The stone room was rather wide and open, the flickering torchlight just barely illuminating the back of it. It was cool and relatively dry. Perhaps it had been a place for grain storage once upon a time? It was not far off of one of the main trade roads, after all, though if it were merely grain storage, someone had gone to an awful lot of trouble to decorate it. It seemed too ornate to merely be a simple storehouse, but try as he might Kai could find no other rooms, nor any objects that would possibly reveal the purpose of the structure. The green stone tiles inset on the floor were discolored a bit, seemingly stained in places, probably due to the occasional wet leaves blowing in or something. A glimmer caught Kai's eye and he knelt on the four tiles that made up the dragon, peering into the large purple-black gemstone that made up the carving's eye. He brushed his fingertips over it and gasped as he felt a shock surge through him. It wasn't painful, merely odd. He dug his nails in and tried to pry it out, only to receive the same uncomfortable jolt. Maybe he could pry it out with a dagger? The warrior sighed and leaned in closer, trying to get a good look at the gem. In that moment it seemed that something looked back, as something dark within the gem seemed to move, and the shocks that Kai had felt before seemed minor in comparison to the body-wracking energy that flowed into him. It seemed to have jagged edges at first, but it seemed to smooth out, becoming... almost comfortable as the energy seemed to settle down inside of him. Though settle down was a relative term, as he could still feel odd tingles and twitches in his belly and loins. After a few moments the power swirling around within him seemed to sense another store of elemental power and flowed into it. Kai cried out as the inner stores of essence that he drew upon in battle were joined by the strange power from the dragon eye gem. He felt himself flush, his skin reddening as blood began to flow more rapidly in his body. The tide of boosted blood flow also aroused him incredibly. It was like the energy had utterly overwhelmed his totemic power, overloading it and sending the excess straight into him. He tugged his loincloth aside and stroked almost frantically at his suddenly aching member. It was an incredible surge of power, of such heat and magnitude that it felt like it would consume him at any moment if Kai didn't find some way to dissipate it. But try as he might, he could feel no pleasure building, even through he was jerking his manhood as fast as he could. The barbarian warrior turned his gaze to the two horses and gasped softly. He had never been particularly attracted to them; they had merely been his companions and his ways of balancing his totemic energies. Of course he enjoyed the sexual acts, but he'd always viewed it as a duty rather than a pleasure. Kai crawled on all fours to the stallion, Tadi. The horse had been expecting the usual ritual treatment after having his adornments removed and was already fully erect. Kai looked over the huge horse, the mighty creature's strength and stamina traits he adopted as his own. But now Kai found himself lusting after the horse himself, rather than the attributes he desired. It felt almost like a hunger inside of him, and Kai found his hands moving from his own member to the horse's shaft. The ritual required him to bring the stallion to climax, to gather the resulting seed, and then to drink some and use a portion as lubrication until his own climax struck, symbolically emptying himself of human essence and taking a portion of the horse's for his own. Kai found himself leaning in, his tongue tracing over the stallion's shaft. He opened his mouth wide, attempting to draw it in, but found that Tadi's manhood was far too large for the task. The stricken warrior could only kiss and suckle the horsecock before him. Somehow the action seemed to make the power roaring through him more comforting, as if it began to file some of the sharp edges off of it. It calmed him, relaxed him, and pleasured him somehow. His actions became less frantic, and the warrior found one hand drifting back to his own loins, slowly stroking his own member in sync with that of the horse. He slipped a finger through the golden ring that pierced the head of his shaft. It was one of several golden rings that adorned his body, marks of his strength and valor. One more adorned each nipple, and he sported several in each ear, as well as a large one through the septum of his nose. An odd sensation began to present itself in Kai's loins, the energy seemed to be dissipating, but in doing so it caused a sensation rather like growing aroused and feeling one's cock hardening. But Kai was already fully erect, so the strange sensation shouldn't be... Thoughts ceased as the stallion climaxed. Kai swallowed reflexively, but Tadi's ejaculation was far, far more than his mouth could contain and it spilled down onto Kai's muscled chest and his own member. The seed felt almost scalding against his body, but not in a painful way. Kai fell back, crying out in pleasure as the power clustered in his belly and groin seemed to surge outward. It was like when he drew upon his totemic power, magical might strengthening his muscles. But instead of merely adding power, this time the expended energy seemed to be put to use making him truly stronger. The surge of male essence seemed to react to the draconic power that infused Kai, and the warrior stared in wonder as the sensation in his manhood grew all the more prominent, as did his manhood itself. Blood surged into his aching member, the skin seeming to stretch taut as the flesh beneath it expanded. It wasn't merely growing, lengthening, expanding; it seemed to be outright altering its shape and color as well. In a few moments Kai was staring at twelve inches of brilliant red animal cock that was still continuing to grow. The warrior lay back on the ground, stoking himself with both hands. He'd heard that improperly imbalanced energies could lead to strange oddities like this. It was even rumored that the result of too much channeling the strength of bulls had resulted in the creation of the minotaur race. Kai had no idea what to do, but for the moment his altered cock felt so wonderful to stroke. He let out a low moan as a jet of pre shot forth, adding to the mess of equine jism upon his torso. He could feel his body growing, bones and muscles subtly shifting. The greatest pressure still remained in his belly and growing groin, though it seemed to be spreading out, heading frontwards to his balls and back to... he had no idea. It didn't really matter, as in a few moments his cock had grown to a size that rivaled Tadi's. Kai found himself almost growling as he bucked his hips instinctively to the pleasure, thrusting up against the air and making a sound with each exhaled breath. His fingers and toes ached, and his teeth did too for some reason. But those minor discomforts were nothing to the onrushing pleasure building within him. Kai cried out, feet pressing down against the floor, back arching, his cock erupting in an incredible fountain of seed that splattered all over the warrior and the floor. There was also another strange, pleasurable eruption. It felt like a second, smaller climax, erupting from behind. As Kai settled down he felt a new sensation. He looked down and found a new limb extending out between his legs. A tail. It wasn't an equine tail, certainly not. It was a bit longer than his legs, just as thick at the base, heavy, muscular, and tapering. It was a dragon's tail. His nails had grown out into the starts of claws, and a quick run of his tongue over his teeth confirmed their sharpness. His climax had expanded the draconic energy within him, making it alter his body rather than dissipate. He needed to draw upon another source of energy upon his climax, draining the unwanted power and immediately replace it with another His cock was still fully erect, still demanding attention, still needy. Kai stood, his body posture hunched forward a bit, his body having altered subtly to take into account the hefty weight of his new tail. He began to approach Aura, the mare. His tongue darted out from between his lips, elongated, though not forked, and he could taste her arousal upon the air. Kai sighed softly, running his bluntly clawed hand over the dark hued mare's body, pressing up against her. He had mated her before, many times before, but this was going to be the first time that he was in possession of a member that seemed truly made to gain pleasure from such a thing. With siphoned male essence filling him nearly to bursting, it hardly took any time at all for Kai to climax into the mare. But this time it was be different. Kai had grown so large that he didn't need the usual stool he had to stand on to position himself properly. He could feel the sparking power within him, continuing to make him grow, only now it wasn't merely an enlargement of his form. Kai could feel himself beginning to change further, to have a body more suited to matching the new appendage that had grown forth. He shivered as he slowly entered Aura, gently gripping the mare's sides. His tail lashed excitedly from side to side, sending little bursts of pleasant sensation up Kai's lengthening spine. Kai growled softly as he felt the hot, surging, draconic energy slither forth as his equine member gushed forth a thick gout of precum, replaced by the cooler, softer, feminine essence of the mare. He let out a soft sigh as the feeling of growth began to settle down. It was working, thankfully, and he began to settle to a calm, relaxing rhythm of small bucks and thrusts into the mare. She felt so wonderfully tight around his equine sized and shaped cock, the mare's sex now perfectly suited to pleasuring him. The prickly, spiking energy flowed out of him and Kai closed his eyes and sighed, not noticing the gentle sensation that replaced the draconic power in altering his body. The claws that had replaced his nails continued to grow, the skin growing over the tops of them to complete the change. A dark tinge began to creep over his skin in places, while the color seemed to leech out of the same on the underside of his neck, upon his chest and belly, and down to his thighs. Rather than stop his transformation, with the elongated neck and slight beginnings of a muzzle, Kai was merely altering its course, making it more subtle and centered upon cosmetic details rather than sweeping changes. His ears smoothed out, becoming pointed and elongated. His hair began to lengthen, the color fading from it as well. Kai moaned softly, not noticing that the pitch of his voice had shifted. He shuddered as small, smooth scales began to gently push their way out of his skin. Each tiny scale didn't have enough sensation to bring it to his notice. Only an odd tingle and tickle drew Kai's attention away from the pleasures at hand. He looked back over his shoulder, noticing the black scales upon his shoulders, back and tail. His eyes widened and the sight, and grew wider still as he looked upon the fluffy white tuft that had appeared upon his tail. The same tickle appeared upon his forearms and calves, adding the same feathering of fur that that powerful horses hard just above their hooves. "Wh-what?" Kai stammered in a feminized voice, letting out a gasp and a shudder as the flesh around his nipples began to puff outward, forming into a pair of small breasts that only seemed to be growing larger. "N-no!" he stammered in horror, realizing that he was not only expelling the draconic essence into the mare, but his own native masculine essence. The energy that infused him from the gem seemed to not mind at all that the form it was granting him was based more on that of a mare rather than a dragon. Kai growled and tried to pull his cock free, but the horse's inner walls held him fast. He growled louder. He had to get away before the strange magic that had invaded him transformed him into some sort of brood mare. Kai winced as the thought of himself as a... not quite female came to mind. He... she still sported the cock, but also a heavy, round belly, and an equally heavy pair of large, milk-filled breasts. The very thought of it turned him on so incredibly. He found himself increasing the pace, thrusting hungrily, eagerly into the horse's pussy. All of a sudden the prickly power came back, and with it the burning ache in Kai's cock and balls. Kai couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop his body from making the rapid, powerful motions of properly mating the mare. Without him actively drawing in the mare's essence to soothe it, the draconic power roared through Kai's veins, nearly driving out all rational thought. It was hard to think, he felt wild, feral, powerful, but completely out of control. It was the warning given for drawing too much on the masculine essence. Kai grunted as his body grew once more, bones shifting in his legs, back, and upon his face. His stance was changing, not quite quadrupedal, but decidedly not humanoid. His fingers thickened, the claws elongating, becoming a little bit more like paws. Kai growled in pain as something felt like it was drilling through his skull, corkscrewing out to form a pair of straight, spiraling horns. The new dragon opened his lengthening muzzle and cried out in pain and pleasure. He gripped Aura as tightly as she could without hurting her, and plied all his strength to withdrawing his cock from her. Kai shuddered as the draconic power surged through his cock once more, a swelling appearing upon the base and another upon the midsection, forming a canine knot and a horse's medial ring. But beyond the ring there was something else, small, round bumps forming. Kai cried out and couldn't help but quiver as Aura's netherlips rubbed over them. They were so sensitive, he couldn't help himself! His body took over once more and Kai instinctively thrust into the mare, his knot sliding into her with some effort, and then swelling further, tying the two together. He had no escape, his altering body had trapped him, binding him to the mare and the pleasure of his altered cock so great that his muscles seemed to take over, bucking against Aura even though he wanted nothing of the sort. Thunder rumbled outside as the storm intensified from the mere downpour that it had been before. The sound made Kai quiver as the storm's energy seemed to resonate with the draconic essence within him. He could feel his climax building, feeling the pressure build within his loins, but also elsewhere in his body. A bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens, striking just in front of the cave, illuminating the inside with a bright, brilliant light. It made the pent up energy within Kai explode, resulting in the incredible explosion of his own climax as well as a near explosion as a pair of membranous wings burst from his back just as his tail had not long before. The new dragon panted, his forked tongue lolling from his mouth. The powerful draft horse beneath him now seemed so much smaller, about his own size. Kai let out a soft purr, nuzzling Aura's neck, stroking her mane, whispering to her soothingly until his member could slip free. Kai could still feel the power, but it was faint within him. Her felt his manhood finally beginning to soften. He turned and took a few halting steps, wincing at the unfamiliar feel of his body. He didn't like the way he was forced to lean forward, that it would be easier to go around on all fours. He certainly wasn't going to be riding a horse any more. Hell, with his size and shape he seemed more likely to serve as someone's mount than as a rider. The thought of mounting brought thoughts of sex, and thoughts of sex made Kai's member return to full hardness once more. Despite having just filled the mare, Kai's body still wanted more. He shuddered and moaned as another bolt of lightning flared outside, revealing the jagged yellow markings upon his skin, as well as illuminating the silhouette of Zola in the mouth of the cave. The she-minotaur sighed and dropped the gathered firewood in a pile beside the door. She pulled off her cloak and shook it out, "Well, I hope that..." she began to say as the dragon pounced. But rather than impacting the she-minotaur, Kai found himself stopped in his tracks by a cool sensation around his neck. There was a soft, mechanical click, and then the spiky, tingling energy was yanked out of his belly and seemed to flow into the collar around his neck. And with a sudden movement, Zola swept Kai's legs out from underneath him, sending the dragon crashing to the ground. "As I was saying," Zola said, placing a hoof upon Kai's midsection. Kai was unable to move, to rise up and shove the minotaur to the ground, to mount and dominate her as he ought to be able. "I had hoped that you'd managed to be able to control yourself. But it seems that your bestial, unthinking, careless nature has gotten the better of you." Lightning flashed, illuminating Zola's grin, as well as making Kai shiver in sympathetic bliss as his pleasure centers seemed to trigger with the storm's release of energy. "It may well be a time honored tradition for an adventurer to spend his money on ale and whores, but when I'm the one who is spending all the money on making life in the wilderness more comfortable and survivable it is frustrating. I told you to buy a good cloak for the rainy season, and you didn't even do that right!" Zola growled, placing a hand upon Kai's cock, slipping a finger through the ring and giving it a tug as she put pressure on her hoof. "You are what you think with, your cock and your stomach. So I engineered this little trip out to this place of power. Used to belong to a goddess of debauchery, fond of taking lustful people and altering them into near-beasts constantly craving sex. A dragon-worshipping cult found the place later, shifting the magics subtly and tied them to greed. After all, dragons snap up anything shiny and valuable for their hoards." Zola took her hoof from Kai's belly, "So you're a dragon and a beast. My druidic powers only grant me control over animals. But I used my share of the money from our last haul to buy the collar I've put around your neck. It allows me to extend my powers of control over animals to a bestial creature wearing it." The minotauress chuckled and began to stroke Kai's cock with both hands, "We've tried the adventuring thing, like you wanted, and all we have to show for it is a wagon and some magical weapons and armor. For you it was all a means to an end to get ale in your belly and get your rocks off with someone more your own size." Kai winced, the two had tried lovemaking a few times before, but it had never really been all that satisfying to either. "So I figured why bother with all the swordplay and sorcery when I can just start a lucrative venture breeding dragon-mounts, hmm? That way you get to fuck all you want all day long and we can even make a profit from it." The dragon let out a soft cry, his altered body and altered mind found the idea rather sexy and alluring. "But with just one female beast it would take awhile. So I think we need another." Zola laughed, positioning herself by Kai's member, kneeling and running her hands over it. "I've been waiting for ages to find a properly sized male to fill me." she said happily, "Of course you're not going to be male for much longer. That totemic magic thing you do is so silly; it's jus the tiniest piece of nature magic. Someone with the inkling to learn, practice, and study rather than spend their time wrestling with other bulls can eventually find out how to manipulate such energy." "St-stop..." Kai managed, before Zola reached out with one hand and held his muzzle shut. "Hush, speak only when spoken to, pet!" The dragon shivered, it felt... good to obey her. "Now, let's make you a proper woman..." the minotauress said, placing her hands on Kai's small breasts. "These are most certainly not going to do. After all, how are you going to nurse an entire clutch of dragonlets with such a small endowment?" The energy sparked through the collar, into Kai's neck, and down into his chest, taking root right beneath Zola's hands. "There we are," she said softly, "Now just to coax them outward..." She slipped her fingers into the rings that piercing Kai's nipples, tugging gently on them at first, then pulling harder and harder. But rather than pain and discomfort, Kai felt only pleasure as his breasts swelled outward to match the motion. The energy rippled though Kai's body, subtly shifting things, creating a narrowing of the waist, a broadening of the hips, altering his proportions so that they were most definitely those of a female. And not merely a female, but a well endowed, fertile female. The only sign that Kai had ever been male was the massive cock and balls between his legs and the utter lack of a... The energy that had nested in his belly from the beginning detonated. It felt like Kai's inside were crawling and slithering and oozing all over themselves to form something new. Something new that began to throb, and ache, and moisten with need. The dragon was no longer a male. She was not quite a female, but she was far more woman than man now. And she... kind of liked it. "Yes, that feels so much better doesn't it?" Zola whispered, releasing her grip on Kai's nipple rings, only to cup and stroke the dragon's huge breasts. The dragon shivered with pleasure at the sensations. "A proper breeding creature, male and female. Mmm... can't you just imagine your belly all round and full of eggs?" Kai blushed as the heat in her new sex intensified. She had indeed thought of that before, and it aroused her as much now as it did then. She moaned softly as Zola slipped two fingers into her snatch, making the dragoness squirm. "Of course I could use my power to draw out the transformative energies before they have time to take root, bind them in the collar," she said, standing and walking over to the pair of horses. Zola hopped up on Aura's back, sitting backwards. "But in order to do that, you'd have to prove to me that you're more than a beast," she reached down and lifted Aura's tail. "A dragon can breed with just about anything, and an aroused dragon will send nearly every natural beast into a receptive state for mating and breeding. Of course animals act almost entirely on instinct," Zola chuckled. "So if you want to change back, prove to me that you are more than an oddly intelligent animal. Walk out of this cave, find somewhere to spend the night, and in the morning I'll change you back." Kai rolled over onto all fours, the scent of her own past climaxes, as well as the arousal of the mare and stallion suffused the cave. She wanted nothing more than to ram her cock into Aura, or Zola, or both at the same time. "Or you can prove that you are little more than a creature of instinct, unable to resist whenever there is a receptive female or two to fuck." "Mmm.... fuck..." Kai murmured, turning her head towards the cave entrance, then looking back at Zola and Aura. She didn't want to go out into the cold, chilly rain. But all the sex upon the air made her feel so terribly, terribly horny. Kai wanted a cock inside of her; she wanted her own cock inside an eager and receptive female. She wanted both at the same time and more. She let out a soft sigh as a cascade of slick fluids trickled down her scaled thighs as she expelled the last of the male human essence that she'd been holding onto, fully embracing the draconic power within her. The dragoness let out a growling moan as she grew bigger still, proper size for a proper dragoness. She cupped her new, wonderful breasts with her taloned handpaws, massaging them as they grew even larger. All the better to feed her brood. But she still craved more. Two new sensations of swelling began upon her body, a matched pair upon her midsection, and another within the bestial sheath that had formed around her cock. Kai groped her growing additions, a second pair of breasts, and a second cock. Her doubled assets mirrors of the first. She crept forward on all fours as the last of the totemic essence faded. She didn't need it anymore; she had the strength and power she had always desired, though this was not the means that she had imagined herself attaining it. Kai reared onto her hind legs, positioning one member to slip into the mare, and the other... "And what does it mean if I choose to fuck a receptive female or two?" she purred. "At the same time?" The minotauress shook her head and sighed, putting herself into proper position, "It means that despite your alterations, that you are still clinging to that absurd fantasy of two women at the same time." Kai chuckled, lifting her tail as Tadi approached. "Well, I'm adding another male to it. That has to count for something?" "I suppose it does my pet, I suppose it does."

Another day, another building destroyed. Really, it was getting tiresome just how much wreckage she woke up surrounded by every morning, especially considering how the compressor company insisted that they were doing their best at containing her; truly, if they were actually going all out, then she wouldn’t need to wipe concrete chunks off her eyelids every time she woke up, nor would she be forced to stare into the sun every godsdamned day instead of a ceiling. Then again, perhaps she was expecting too much from people who really didn’t know what they were dealing with; she was a goddess after all. Thoughts like these crossed her mind on a near-daily basis, or at least that’s what Starry figured was the case; the memory issues were becoming worse as time went on, with her awareness of the fogginess becoming so pronounced that it was honestly nothing short of inexplicable that she didn’t resort to some kind of medical consultation… or didn’t accidentally trip onto the truth of the matter, given the sheer amount of implausibilities being stacked on top of one another with each second that she lived in that self-imposed charade. Really, the only thing she could worry about was how exactly to get to work without utterly obliterating everything around her in a half-mile radius, or just ripping out huge chunks of the city’s foundations whenever she took a step; anything else was secondary. Beginning the arduous journey of getting up from wherever she was sleeping, the vixen took care not to roll over too much; even the most powerful of spatial distortions failed to live up to the full impact of that bust she was carrying, and if not that, then those cheeks of hers would flatten even the strongest and most resilient of metallic alloys. Truly, she was a person of mass destruction, capable of wreaking havoc on an unprecedented scale purely by virtue of existing, but that didn’t mean she had to sit there and take it; being a goddess came with its own set of responsibilities towards those who lived underneath her, mostly dealing with not crushing them, not drowning their living spaces in her milk, and certainly not allowing any of them to get close to her until she was ready to deal with the avalanche of worship that was sure to come. She was divine, yes, but still needed her rest, lest she wake up cranky and smite someone. This still didn’t stop onlookers from immediately rushing towards her the moment she woke up. It was always a wonder why and how they managed to avoid doing this while she was still asleep; perhaps her slumbering form created some kind of force field around it, or perhaps it was simply too glorious for any to approach. Maybe these tiny ones believed that with her being awake they stood a higher chance of receiving some attention on her part (they didn’t), but whatever the case may be, the end result was always the same: a torrent of hyper-sized individuals all waddling towards her as quickly as they could move, every last one of them trying their best to get even the slightest touch in before being pushed away. Not that Starry would be so rude as to physically prevent anyone from getting close to her; after all, her body was everyone’s to admire, to glorify, to adore and praise, and if that meant offering it up in a more direct fashion, who was she to say no? Besides, it’d be rude not to reward some of those little ones with something after the amount of effort they put into trying to reach her. Starry didn’t remember her neighbors all being some kind of tauric variant, nor their forms being so laden with phalluses and breasts that they could barely move, but they were certainly giving it their all in trying to get close to her, even if they had to drag themselves across the ground with a thick lactic trail behind them. It was obviously very difficult for most of them; hell, some were so big that it was a wonder they could move at all, so big that part of Starry wondered why and how exactly the buildings surrounding her were exactly the same size as they’d… always been? Sure, when she blinked and they were suddenly much larger and equipped with elevators designed for plus-sized hypers, the mega-vixen was slightly confused, but they’d always been there, so clearly it must be normal. Clearly. No thoughts were paid to the obvious impossibility that was both her body and the sudden transformation of her environment, nor to the frankly ridiculous amount of milk she was already outputting without even noticing. To the vixen, this was just the way things went: she woke up, she doused everything and everyone around her in thousands of gallons of her delicious cream, then she did her best to get up without harming anyone. Easier said than done considering how crowded things usually got at her feet, but with some elbow grease and plenty of sheepish requests for all the tiny ones to please and kindly walk away so she could stand up, Starry somehow managed to heave herself into a standing position, her head pushing through a cluster of clouds before her yawn turned them into wispy remnants of their former selves. It was always a bother when she accidentally affected the local pressure systems, honestly; ‘twas bad enough that her moving caused seismic tremors, all of her supplicants really didn’t need the sudden gusts of wind and occasional sonic shockwave. Still, she had to go to work… to a certain extent. Starry didn’t exactly need the wages, nor was it something she had any real obligation to do, but it was a task that someone had to perform or else the entire city would explode from the amount of pent-up sexual energy being repressed. With her divine self being at the epicenter of that most blessed metropolis, it was unsurprising that the city’s inhabitants themselves would grow to become significantly different from those who lived elsewhere: not only did their bodies change into forms that were far more suited for the kind of mindless self-indulgence that those who lived around her were allowed to engage in on a daily basis, but their minds warped as well, becoming significantly more receptive to the kind of debased debauchery that had once been the exclusive purview of extreme kink art. However, this carried with it a bit of a problem: someone had to handle all of that horny, and someone had to defuse it in a way that wouldn’t cause serious, lasting damages to the environment and the people themselves. That’s where Starry came in. She remembered, in the way that the universe and the multiverse around it allowed her to remember, the days where her being at the café were actually perfectly normal: she’d wake up, walk through the city, sit her enormous ass out back and then let her tits flow freely. Now though, the point of her presence there was not for the sake of a commercial transaction, but more a case of… tradition. Everyone knew where she was going to be, everyone already knew what the service hours were, so it made it a lot easier on the city’s population; this way, they knew exactly when to divert their attention and where to divert it to, for the daily ritual that was their collective, orgasmic relief. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t glamorous, and it certainly wasn’t clean, but it was necessary. Every day, for several hours straight, Starry had to do her duty as the world’s resident goddess and offer herself up to her worshippers. Now, this didn’t exactly mean that they’d be able to actually reach her, or indeed get anywhere close to the point where they could establish physical contact; rather, the vixen would sit down, focus her power, and the resplendent radiance of her divine form would allow all those who gazed upon it to… relax. Relax and simply allow their inner desires to flow through them, without the need for any complications or second thoughts, until every last soul in a several mile radius around her succumbed to their own arousal and entered a state of rapturous, endless orgasmic bliss. Very few would actually manage to even keep their eyes open after the first dose of the “god light”, as they called it, and even fewer would retain the ability to move; the amount of individuals who succeeded in walking more than a few feet before inevitably losing control of their legs could be counted on one hand. And yet, a few always tried, a few always attempted, all in the hopes of maybe someday reaching Starry, and achieving true enlightenment. Starry herself wasn’t sure where this belief came from, but she was happy to encourage it; she quite enjoyed seeing people exercise, rather than simply lying on their tits all day like some of the lazier ones did. It couldn’t possibly be healthy for them, and as such she strived to give them the encouragement they needed to get off their fat whatevers and at least try to get closer to her, hoping that maybe, one day, everyone who gazed upon her would be capable of doing so. Sadly, such a day was still a long way away; as far as she remembered, not a single person had ever managed to climb onto her, mostly because the radiance she exuded became stronger the closer someone was to her physical form. A few were very determined though, trudging through a good few hundred yards before the increased doses of energy all-but forced them to stop and experience eternal climax, and a couple had even gone all the way from the outskirts to the very edge of her throne. But these were the exceptions, rather than the rule… for now at least. One day though, they would get there, and to that end, she had to get a move on; even a goddess such as herself couldn’t afford to let go of her schedule, lest she need to perform a full reset and go back to the start of the day, assuming that was even a thing she could do. Was that a thing she could do? Did goddesses reset time? An interesting question, but funnily enough, not one she had time for; chuckling to herself at the sheer stupidity of that realization, Starry gingerly made her way through the enormous arcologies that had replaced the standard apartment buildings that used to be there just moments prior, making sure to squeeze herself through whatever compressed alleyways she could in order to shave off as much time as possible. Off in the distance, framed against the blue sky, was her destination. She was quite proud of that pillow. She’d made it herself after all… or at least, that’s what she remembered made the most sense. Seeing as nothing could really hold that immense, mountainous ass of hers, and she didn’t feel like having it lie on concrete all the time, Starry had no doubt employed some of her godly powers in the creation of a pillow big enough to be able to provide the support she needed for her very long hours serving as a beacon of pure arousal. It wasn’t exactly a throne per se, but it was about the closest she could get; besides, having an actual chair would be a bit too regal for her taste, seeing as she liked to keep things down to earth and somewhat relatable. Thus, where once had been her café, the backyard where her old form would sit and service whoever wanted some of her attention, and about ten or so extra city blocks, there stood only a single, massive, down-filled pillow. The only sign that it belonged to a goddess was the fact that it was that big, because otherwise it looked exactly like any other pillow one might purchase at a store… well, apart from the gold trim, that much Starry decided to splurge out on a bit. It served its purpose wonderfully though, even if it took a few minutes for the giantess to climb onto it, and a few minutes more for her to turn around and actually place her ass on it, rather than using it as something to rest her tits on. Then again, considering both her bust and butt were about the same size, it did give her ideas about potentially getting something for the latter as well, maybe some kind of padded seat where she could place her immense mounds during “work” hours; it would certainly reduce the amount of incidents where she accidentally moved to one side in order to check up on what was happening to the tiny ones around her and ended up smacking the side of one of her tits against a few residential arcologies, not to mention the perennial issues with overflow after she started milking herself. Honestly, there were just so many logistical problems that came with her body being the way that it was that Starry was surprised she hadn’t yet migrated to somewhere off-world just to make it easier on herself. Then again, how could she, when she was that world’s goddess? Hers was not a body to be observed from a distance, but a gift, something to provide to the people of Earth and give them a chance at reaching, even if no one really managed to do so. To leave the planet behind and become some sort of orbital fixture might make things infinitely easier, doubly so once the next growth spurt came around (did those come around? Did she actually grow?), but it would also deprive her supplicants of her very much intoxicating presence, and that just wasn’t acceptable. She had a responsibility as their deity to do something about the intense horniness she caused in everyone, and that meant staying behind and making sure everyone could get the release they very much deserved, and so desperately needed. After all, if not her, then who else? Who else had both the power, the resilience and the endurance required to keep so many people on edge for so long that they could experience that sort of pure, unbridled bliss? If not for her, those poor things would be stuck, unable to truly cross over into the realm of orgasm, constantly stuck atop bodies that swelled and bloated and filled to such absurd degrees that they’d be perpetually unable to achieve any kind of proper climax; a fate worse than death, as far as Starry was concerned. No, she had to remain behind, had to do her best to help those around her, every day, day in, day out, until such a point as she could do so from further away. Because… that was the goal, right? The goal was to become so magnificently perfect that she could achieve the same results from a distance as she did in person… wasn’t it? It certainly seemed to make some sense to her, even if she couldn’t quite place her finger on why that was; after all, why exactly was she holding back? That was the main question there, and one that immediately leapt to the forefront of her mind the moment she formulated it, given how critical it was to her identity as a goddess: why was she holding back? Starry knew for a fact that she could do so much more than what she was doing at that point. Sitting there, emanating pure magnificence and allowing everyone else to achieve release was fun and all, but where was her enjoyment? Where was her release? Why was it that she had to do all the work and get none of the orgasmic pleasure in return if she was supposed to be that world’s goddess? In fact, now that she gave it some thought, the vixen couldn’t even remember the last time that she actually achieved climax, though she was quite certain it had something to do with that jewelry bracelet with odd electronics strapped to it that she had on her wrist; something about a promise made and upheld, a task given that must be followed to the very end or somesuch, she couldn’t really remember all that well. It was hard to think back further than that morning, a fog curtain that Starry was only vaguely aware of despite slamming her own consciousness against it multiple times. If there was one thing that the goddess could be certain of, however, it was that she hadn’t gotten off in… some time. Indeterminate, but certainly longer than usual given how much she wanted to rub her legs together or otherwise spread them before summoning an equally-gigantic partner in order to get rid of that nagging itch in the back of her head. Surprisingly, however, some part of her resisted this temptation; despite it being entirely within the realm of possibility for her to just snap her fingers and transform any one of those thousands, millions of little ones into a suitor that could satisfy her desires, and in fact such a thing being little more than the equivalent of a short jog… something inside of her told her not to do it. Was it some kind of moral obligation towards her “subjects”, if she could call them that? Some sort of universal imperative that forbade her from attempting such a thing while her charges still yearned for release themselves? It would certainly make sense given her luck, though why exactly she thought like that was also nothing short of a mystery; surely, as the goddess of that world, Starry and Starry alone would be the one to decide what laws she obeyed, or what laws even existed at all. And yet, despite all this, there yet remained that incessant prohibition, holding her back just enough that she couldn’t bring herself to raise her hand and make reality bow to her whims; and, if nothing else, this was extremely interesting to her. Starry recalled that she was supposed to hold herself back from experiencing orgasm, though again, she couldn’t quite remember why. While she couldn’t put her finger on when the last time she came was, the vixen was reasonably certain it happened a few days prior; add these two things together, and the reasonable answer should be that she was “due” for one big climax, especially considering how much her loins were aching for some kind of distraction, any distraction really… or was it? She was, at the end of the day, a goddess, a creature of absolute, utmost perfection that therefore required a great deal more pleasure to bring over the edge; similarly, whenever she did cross that line and end up venting all that pressure, the results were proportionately cataclysmic, often leading to large-scale flooding thanks to all the milk and other, assorted juices that flowed so easily from her. Or, at least, this is what she figured made sense, and just as she did so, the multiverse simply made it so. Out there in the vast expanses of everything, the other Starries responsible for this one iteration’s power boost were quick to pick up on any errant thought that crossed their newest member’s mind, in order to simply make it true; all that was really needed was for this sister of theirs to embrace her divine side, to accept it and make it true, for the barriers to come down and another instance of reality to fall to a tidal wave of soft flesh, orange fur, and copious amounts of breast milk. To this end, they needn’t rush; they had all of eternity, after all, and it had only been a couple of days ever since the ascendant vixen engaged in the kind of reality-distorting self-deprivation that weakened the dimensional veil to begin with. Nonetheless, and just like with every other version of Starry, this one too quickly fell to the whims and desires of her alter selves, countless eternities’ worth of raw horny energy being poured into her form just as her godlike abilities were unlocked, boosted to the seven hells and back, and then multiplied even further. And yet, she still sat there upon her immense pillow, scratching her chin and pondering over her inability to pleasure herself. Ultimately though, she was a plaything to the other Starries pulling her strings just as much as she was her own woman, with the latter half of herself slowly, but surely, overtaking the proceedings and coming up with a (for her) reasonable explanation for why she couldn’t bring herself to orgasm: it was too soon. She had memories of a time when she truly let loose, and the ensuing destruction was such that she had to put everything back in its place via some extreme abuse of her own powers; not exactly something difficult, but not a sequence of events she was in any rush to go through again, given how much it damaged the fabric of reality. It was absolutely divine, she wasn’t about to say otherwise, but the sheer amount of buildings that were wiped in the flood, and the deep grooves she dug into the surface of the planet with her paws were enough to convince her that she should probably hold back until a later date, in order to give existence itself some time to simmer down and center itself. At least, that’s what her mind conjured up as an explanation; it certainly made sense, in its own demented sort of way, but Starry couldn’t be certain if it was true, given her unique nature. Time was, after all, nothing if not relative around her. Not only was she dense enough to distort spacetime itself just by her sheer presence, but her status as a divine entity made it difficult to pin down just what timeline she was actually in; the vixen could peer into adjacent ones, possibilities that would be, had been, and never could be, and her job was to take them all and weave them into something that resembled a coherent narrative. Be it through her action, inaction, or anything in between, her job was mostly to make sure that her version of reality continued to exist within the bounds set by its own rules, and going off orgasming whenever she felt like it was incredibly dangerous in that regard; yes, it was fantastic and probably the most pleasure that anything alive had ever gone through, but what about the consequences? Starry looked around, at the many tiny ones surrounding her. She hadn’t yet started the process of unleashing her full glory unto them, and yet they were already digging their heels into the concrete and asphalt in their mad dash to get as close to her as possible before inevitably failing to resist their own bodies’ arousal overload. They hadn’t always been like that; Starry very much knew that people used to be people-sized, without tauric bodies riddled with so many engorged assets, and that it had been her actions that transformed the population of that city and its suburbs into those kinds of over-sexualized creatures. Her influence had spread beyond it as well, and though the rest of the planet was still safe from her, it wouldn’t be for much longer; soon, billions of souls would be turned into their perfect dream form, and from there, everything would stop: no more industry, no more economy, no more anything but travelling to see the perfect goddess that started it all, right up until she ejected herself into orbit and everyone on the planet could spend the rest of their days looking up and glorifying her. And while this was certainly an alluring prospect, it also made it very clear that she had to slow down; if she didn’t, who knew what might happen to all of her little ones, trapped as they were in their own inability to resist her own allure. It was settled then. As much as it hurt her to deny her own desires for any stretch of time, Starry was certain that it was, if nothing else, the right thing to do; she could always let loose at a later date, when the entire cosmos would be hers for the taking and she had plenty of room to jettison millions of gallons of milk each half-second during a climax that lasted for entire days, so why bother rushing it? Anything she could experience while planetbound would be naught but an appetizer compared to what she was truly capable of, so it was best if she held herself back; after all, the vixen had a whole city of playthings to “unleash” upon themselves, and all of this introspection had left her a few minutes behind on schedule. Readjusting herself on her colossal seat, Starry got ready to complete her task for the day, a slight grin growing on the edge of her lips as she closed her eyes and began her breathing exercises. It was always the most intense part of her daily experience, having to shut every external stimulus off and focus purely on that endless wellspring of divine power that had transformed her into whatever she could possibly be categorized as; it was a fire that never burned out, one fueled by an unknown source that even the vixen herself couldn’t identity, but her extra-dimensional other selves certainly could. Even a small fraction of their own power was enough to transform this version of Starry into something unrecognizable, and the further it was used, the more this iteration of the goddess-vixen drew upon it, the wider the proverbial door became. Eventually, it would become big enough to flood the entire cosmos with herself, and quite literally so with that, enough that this, this thing that she was doing that day upon her pillow, would only truly happen once. But it would still happen. Those in the city, stuck as they were atop thrones of curves, milk and cum, were all looking up at her, staring at the giantess off in the distance as the heat that permeated their own bodies grew stronger with each passing moment. They looked on as the silhouette of the godlike vixen became more defined against the blue sky, her outrageously exaggerated curves seeming to bloat up even further as she began glowing like a second sun; laying eyes upon her was impossible, for the sight would burn through to the observer’s soul, and yet everyone managed to do it without any real care nor concern, for such was Starry’s power that her own presence could never be anything less than completely benevolent. There would be no overpowering of minds or destruction of essences, naught but the exultation that could only come from being in the presence of someone like Starry herself; she was to become a beacon for all those that saw her as their goddess, and her body would be the main vector for distributing this glory to all the little ones raising their hands toward her. Everything, from her imposing height, tall enough to overshadow the biggest of skyscrapers downtown, to her ample bosom, stupendously stuffed with countless trillions of gallons of tightly-packed, dense cream just waiting to be poured out, so immense that they could blot out the sun for a couple of square miles each, all leading to the equally-titanic rear sat upon her throne-pillow. All of her, every inch of her (and there were plenty of those to go around) seemed designed from the ground up to cause the same reaction in anyone who looked upon her: desire. Desire and arousal and sheer, unfettered horny all rolled up into one transcendental experience that no one, not even herself, could truly comprehend; all they could do was absorb the radiance that emanated from her, drink from the light that bathed them and welcome it into their bodies, hoping that it would lead them down the same path that it had their goddess. This was, of course, impossible. No matter how hard these little ones tried, they would never truly reach the same level as Starry, if for no other reason than because of the simple fact that, by the time they became that large, the vixen’s own permanent growth rate would have ensured she became far, far larger than she was already, perhaps even big enough to blot out the light of the rest of the galaxy’s stars. But still they fantasized, locked as they were in their own minds, of their forms expanding and bloating and filling and multiplying until they too were sat upon their own thrones, locked in an endless cycle of self-indulgence and debasement of the likes unseen and unimagined by any who hadn’t been blessed by Starry’s presence. This, ultimately, was the secret behind the radiance’s uncanny ability to trigger a city-wide climax: it wasn’t that it made people horny as much as it simply gave them the mental resources to truly see their fantasies in their minds’ eye, making it far too much of an alluring prospect to simply ignore anymore. And, in the middle of it all, Starry herself, cross-legged and with her arms draped over her milk-stuffed udders, her eyes closed as she felt her power leak out in such vast quantities that it began to scare her on a level she hadn’t considered before… right before the fear turned back around into arousal once she became truly aware of how much power and energy she was wielding with such ease. The vixen could just shut it off, deprive all of her supplicants of their mannah, leave them begging for more as their demands turned to prayer… but she wouldn’t. Starry was, at the end of the day, a merciful goddess, and one that would never once think to make her followers feel anything other than rapturous bliss. It was what she wanted for herself, and she was nothing that special, so why hold back from giving everyone else the exact same thing? For hours on end, day after day. Forever.

It had been a while since she’d last heard from her new employers, and in the meantime, Pavita’s body had grown accustomed to the strain placed on it… and quite literally, at that. Her size immediately after her last maternity day, whereby she’d delivered more young than even the disembodied entities thought possible, had clearly been nothing but a warm-up for her body, especially after it had been given the freedom and release it so clearly desired and deserved. It had been perfectly containable… for about a couple of days, at which point the turkey began waking up every morning slightly larger than she had been the previous night. And not just in the sense that she filled up over the course of her sleep either, that much she was accustomed to; rather, even after draining, Pavita found that her tits were wider than before, her ass fatter, her thighs increasingly thicker and softer. She didn’t complain, of course; this was the sort of thing she lived for, and she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth when it was so generously given to her. Her employers, however, were not so gracious, though mostly because they had no idea why she was still getting bigger even after she’d already given birth. None of them had expected their newest employee to have a biology so prone to growth bursts and so reactive to anything that might make it swell and bloat through sheer force of maternity; only a handful had bothered to run the models on what would happen on a “biggest case” scenario, and even those fell woefully short of just what Pavita was clearly capable of doing. None of those responsible had any clue how to make her stop growing, and as a result she was stuck there, living in increasingly larger houses as the people who hired her had to make do for their apparently most productive employee. Pavita herself, meanwhile, was loving every second of it, enough so that she didn’t even think about how she wasn’t even pregnant anymore. A ten year contract, and yet she was being politely asked to sit quiet and not do anything while those working behind the scenes scrambled to try and find some way to get her to stop becoming ever more giant with each passing day. They wouldn’t succeed, to no one’s surprise; Pavita knew better than anyone that trying to make her body stop growing was a fool’s errand, especially when she was actively encouraging it to stretch out as much as possible. Missed milkings, eating fattier foods, anything that popped into her head and had the slightest chance of working (at least, to her) was good enough for her to try, and every day she received confirmation that whatever she was doing, something was doing its job right. It didn’t take more than a couple of months before she was dragging her tits around several feet in front of her, and the bigger she became, the faster she seemed to grow: within half a year of her giving birth after becoming bigger than a gas giant, her ass alone was so large that it’d be able to cover a whole city block were she back at Earth… and each tit was so gargantuan, that their nipples alone would be capable of such a feat. Her body itself, however, was about as small as it always had been, and the longer she took, the bigger she became, the more Pavita wanted to do something about that. Her breasts by themselves were probably visible from a good few miles out, and were so stuffed with dairy, so productive that she was gaining about two or three yards of diameter every single day; if she did nothing about that, her employers would have a whole different problem on their hands… not that Pavita’s proposed solution would make it any better. “I’m sorry, you want to do what with your contract?” was the first reply she got once she vocalised her intent, knowing full well she was being watched, “It’s a ten-year one for a reason, Miss Pavita, I’m not sure we’re equipped to handle what you’re asking of us.” Typical. Capable of warping space and time to the point where she grew to planetary sizes and back, more than able to modify her to such an extent that she could grow that large, but ask for a little bit more leeway and suddenly they just couldn’t do it. But she knew better; Pavita had seen that look of apprehension before, mirrored perfectly in her old handlers back on her homeworld, and was at least entertained by the notion that, despite the vast difference in technological level, that same-old expression of desperation never really changed. There was someone (or multiple someones, she still wasn’t sure) who knew full well what they were talking about, but had to pretend otherwise for the sake of getting her to slow down; there was someone who knew that she could fulfil the order, and was more than aware that they were incapable of handling it, and thus had to do whatever they could to keep the turkey from going off the rails. But the more they tried, the more they would fail, for Pavita didn’t particularly care about whether or not her contract was due in just under nine years, nor if her intention of carrying it through with just one more pregnancy was feasible for creatures who commanded the very underlying forces of the fabric of existence. To her, the one sole concern was being big, bigger in fact than anything else, and if there was an obstacle in the way, then it just had to be removed, end of story. It was a moment of epiphanic self-improvement, when she looked at herself and fully realised what she had become. Once guided only and purely by instinct, Pavita came to understand that there was so much more to herself that she had been completely ignoring, a side of her being that was… more. Not godlike, certainly not that, but for those who were too small to see her for what she was in full, did it matter? Were academic distinctions really that important when her belly alone outsized entire planets, and her milkiness was such that she could drown out stars if she was aimed in the wrong direction? For all the little ones watching, and for the countless young she birthed, she might as well be a goddess for all they knew… and she intended to take advantage of that to its fullest extent. It quite literally wasn’t enough that she had become big enough to smother most planetary bodies, for the simple reason that she could get that big. It might be difficult to think about, and even harder to parse for those who weren’t addled by growthlust, but ultimately, if she could reach those sizes, that meant she was capable of reaching those sizes; that being the case, and seeing as she didn’t feel like she was stretching herself to any “cap” sizes, then it stood to reason that she could go bigger. And that, that was her imperative. If she could go bigger, then she should, nevermind how she was already the size of multiple city blocks and needed entire warehouses’ worth of milking equipment just to keep her at a stable size, a requirement that only grew larger by the day as her tits became milkier at an unsustainable rate. She needed to be bigger, and that meant putting on her best charming face, fluttering her eyelashes, and all-but threatening to impregnate herself through sheer force of will if her employers didn’t do what she told them to do. Faced with a prospective broodmother who didn’t seem to care about basic safety concerns, and lacking in any obvious means to keep her under control, the entities were left at an impasse. They could theoretically just fire Pavita, but the unfortunate fact was that what she was asking was permitted by the terms of her contract; that she had most likely not read it completely was entirely irrelevant compared to the absolute mess that a legal battle might turn out to be, leaving them with few options besides paying her a generous severance package that no one involved in the operation felt like doling out. On the other hand, they could just give the turkey what she wanted and weather the storm as it came. It wasn’t the best solution, nor was it likely to yield anything other than pain and misery, but after the show she’d put on a few months prior, a certain few groups within the organisation began believing they were capable of keeping Pavita within acceptable parameters. No one believed them, but it was better than scrambling for answers were there were none, and thus, with a great grumbling and gnashing of teeth, the turkey was eventually approved for “expedient” contract fulfilment; ultimately, the hope was that she’d go through the whole thing, be done with it, and then never have to bother the whole operation ever again. Pavita, on her part, had no intention of ever leaving, if for no other reason than because, by the time she was done, she wouldn’t be able to leave at all. She was only as small as she was because her employers had been in a position to terminate her contract with extreme prejudice had she not backpedalled at the last moment, but after everything that had happened, after all the growth, and after all those times Pavita saw that the entities were very clearly struggling to keep up with her, she was no longer afraid. If she managed to bloat out to planetary sizes within minutes when she was still small enough to fit inside a regular room, one could only imagine what she was capable of now that she sprawled over a sizeable chunk of a city; indeed, despite her being approved, the broodmother could tell the bureaucracy was deliberately dragging its feet, presumably trying to find a way out of that whole mess. By the time the fertility treatment was ready for deployment, Pavita had already grown to encompass a good twice of the area she’d had once she first made her demands, though by then, it had only taken her a couple of months. She assumed that, lacking any substantial options outside abiding by her requests, her employers figured that they couldn’t afford to just let her keep growing uncontrollably like that, and threw themselves off the proverbial edge and into the abyss, letting fate take the wheel. She waited. On the appointed day, Pavita woke up early, purely so she could enjoy herself as she was, before everything went (quite literally) belly-up and the whole planet was promptly absorbed and cracked open by a body too large for it to keep on itself. The broodmother had no delusions as to what she was capable of either; she knew that the moment the fertilisation went through, she was going to grow so quickly and so explosively that nothing in her path would be able to withstand it… hence why her surroundings were so suspiciously clean of any obstructions. Rather than the sterile surgical environment she’d been placed in during her first foray, it would seem her employers had decided for a more outdoors-y approach, perhaps having realised that trying to stick her inside a building would just cause said building to crumble almost instantly. She didn’t have the details for what she was supposed to do either; far as Pavita cared to ask, it was something about a “backlogged project” for galactic repopulation or something of the sort, she didn’t quite care enough to care. What mattered was that her many attendants had been hard at work during the night dismantling the innumerable milking apparatuses surrounding her, preparing for the inevitable offworld evacuation; this left Pavita with a good thirty minutes or so in between the last pump being turned off and the medical drone bearing the fertilisation treatment appearing, during which she simply sat there, on her gargantuan throne of an ass, and felt herself bloat. Yards upon yards of breastflesh, all being made on the fly by a bust too stuffed to exist, too full to function properly. She shouldn’t be able to produce that much dairy, because no one should; it was the sort of thing that existed only in the realm of fairy tales and lewd artistic productions, the kind of ridiculous milkiness that would bring any lactic lover to their knees just by thinking about it. But for her, it was very much real; for Pavita, all she had to do was close her eyes and let the sensations filter through to her overtaxed pleasure centres: the tightness, the filling, the swelling, the current of milk churning inside of her tits, all of it added up to a wondrous, near-heavenly experience. But it wasn’t enough. It was with a smile that Pavita welcomed the tiny drone whizzing past her head, almost wanting to snuggle it, enamoured not just with its sleek design, but more so with what it represented: more. Within that little autonomous robot was a deployable autoinjector, one filled with the same treatment she’d been given the first time her new employers tried testing her ability to bear young, one that would let her grow and fill with new life until everything was her, only her, nothing but her. The moment the treatment was delivered to her, that would be it: no more planet, no more whatever was around it; just herself, and the endless growth that came with being the universe’s most fertile broodmother. Pavita gave the go-ahead, nodding and announcing that she was prepared. There was a moment of hesitation, where, despite her not being able to see anyone, the turkey knew that she was being watched by several pairs of eyes, all of whom were hiding a concerned mind behind them. She knew that her handlers didn’t want to do this, but had no other choice: they had to go forward and deal with whatever happened. So they gave the go-ahead, the little drone flew off somewhere that Pavita couldn’t see, and a few moments later, she felt a tiny prick on her inner thigh. A mere second later, the several mile-wide perimeter of her holding complex was torn apart as Pavita’s now-gravid belly flattened everything within it; torrents of milk stronger than any river in existence, more powerful than any storm, erupted from both of her tits, while her ass fattened to such a degree that it cracked the ground beneath it from its weight alone. Another second, and even this size would look puny, Pavita having exploded outwards with such speed that a single one of her puffy nips would be enough to completely overshadow even this new, improved form. And another second passed, bringing with it so much more of her that she couldn’t even begin to tell how massive she had become. It was all according to plan though… or, at least, as according to plan as anything could be when the furthest Pavita went ahead in time was “Get big, think later”. At the end of the day, the one solid decision she had made had been to throw away any notion of surrendering; she had stopped herself when threatened before, but that was when she was still small enough that she could theoretically be contained. Now though, now there was nothing that could possibly stop her, and that being the case, she’d just run out of excuses not to splurge out. The planet didn’t last for more than a couple of minutes before it was unceremoniously torn into pieces, both by the sheer girth of the broodmother’s body and the gravitational pull of it; with the amount of life within her, as well as the sudden boosts to her assets, her mass had reached a point where the world beneath her had become lighter than she was, flipping the gravity well around and flaying the small rocky body with gravitational currents too powerful for it to withstand. Quakes gave way to whole chunks of continents pulling away from one another, magma being pumped from the depths and erupting onto the surface in one glorious catastrophe before the whole thing just cracked open like an egg. Not that the planet was needed; it was just a platform on which to keep her, where her employers chose to quarantine her where she couldn’t do any harm to their plans; it wasn’t as if she was the only broodmother under their employ (even if she could do everyone else’s job combined twice over), so keeping her out of the way somewhere that no one could interact with her but the turkey’s own staff of attendants and technicians was about the only way the entities employing her had to exercise even a minimum level of control. It was gone now. A couple of minutes and the whole thing was just completely gone, turned into smaller chunks, then pulverised further until every individual little rock was so insignificant that it barely qualified as an asteroid, then further still until every last remnant of the former planet had been atomised, turned into nothing more than dust, until even that was too big to describe what remained. In its place, Pavita, having grown so quickly in such a short time that even her brain had forgotten to update. It was, quite literally, too much for her to handle, in the sense that she didn’t have the brainpower needed to truly take in what was happening to her. She tried her best, but ultimately, the best she could manage was to have this odd form of half-awareness where she was only vaguely noticing any one thing happening to her; there was just so much of her body to go around, so much of herself over so much space, that to try and process all the sensory information would most likely have left her catatonic as her brain collapsed under the strain. It was impossible, hence why she very quickly reached a stage where her whole universe was, once again, just what she could immediately see. In between her titanic pair of milky udders, her gargantuan rump and set of thighs, and the gravid belly so bloated that it stretched the definition to the breaking point, was her body: her torso (sans bust), neck, head and arms, the few parts of her that didn’t grow to meet the demands of her pregnancy. In there, locked on all sides by her very own body, surrounded in every direction by warm softness that defied explanation, was her world: everything that Pavita could see was right there, in that tiny little cocoon of empty room created by her natural curves and proportions. The same one where, funnily enough, she had been threatened to back down during her first true broodmother spurt. No such thing would happen again. It had taken her substantially longer to reach those sizes before, and she wasn’t about to let go of such an opportunity without fighting for it. Not that her employers were going to put up any resistance, given how they had already consigned themselves to a series of events they knew they couldn’t do anything to slow down, let alone stop; much as they might want to believe they still had a choice in how things went, it was clear from the get-go that the moment the treatment was applied, it was all over. They couldn’t stop her even if they wanted to, since, whether or not she was fertilised, the turkey would just end up bloating all over everything anyway, and nothing they did seemed to work. Suppressants, surgical intervention, even attempting to alter fundamental constants did absolutely nothing; Pavita was, as far as they were aware, some sort of anomalous thing of pure motherhood that seemed intent on resisting everything they did to keep her from going out of control, only becoming more reactive and growth-happy in the process. So for her to wreck through the whole planet in such short order… well, there was a reason they mandated the evacuation of her attendant crew and sent in an automated drone to kickstart the process. Even then, it wasn’t enough. Their best scientists and statisticians were put to work mathing out the worst case scenario for an exponential broodmother explosion, and then ordered to disregard all their calculations and assume things would be at least ten times worse, then go from there. They repeated this a couple of times, and even then a few within the team were campaigning to run the numbers again just to be sure; as it turned out, they would be vindicated when every single projection had to be thrown out the window, as Pavita reached a size that occupied an entire orbital distance between the two closest planets within a record-breaking five minutes. Not just with her belly, of course, she wasn’t that big yet, but the combination of her rotund rear and milk-filled tits, jutting out in opposite directions and bloating still with every passing second, made sure that the turkey took her rightful place as an astronomical-scale object, one whose size would only become more and more taxing on the local gravity wells as time went on. For most of the space between planets had been empty: nothing but a void with the occasional particle, maybe a meteorite if one was lucky; she, meanwhile, was one immense, solid mass, and while she couldn’t yet compete with the local star, she could definitely stand up next to the outer gas giants and come out the other end a narrow victor. But narrow wouldn’t last for long, because she wasn’t done yet. It had barely been ten minutes and Pavita had blasted through whatever sizes she had once fantasised about, her immense girth such that her employers were mandating the immediate evacuation of the entire galactic arm she was in, in preparation for what was bound to be the biggest and most uncontainable burst of motherhood the universe had ever seen. A few of Pavita’s supervisors turned to the nearest bottle of intoxicant, hoping to maybe forget about everything they did so they’d have some plausible deniability; others just stared at the readings pouring in from long-distance scanners, refusing to believe what they were seeing could possibly be true, and still others stared at the nearest wall, wondering where it all had gone wrong. Pavita herself, in the meantime, was having fun simply growing in every direction, blissfully unaware of how far she’d gotten, entirely ignorant of how much damage she was doing to the local stellar system. First the planet she was on, then the two closest to it; onwards to the local star, whose warmth left her ass feeling somewhat toasty, while her tits erupted with enough milk to condense and form into planets of its own, were it not being pumped out at such a high speed that it was instead shot out into interstellar space. Her belly, so gargantuan that it had by then already outsized the ball of plasma lighting it, was so densely packed with young that it had begun to distort local spacetime; were Pavita not… well, her, it was highly likely that it would have collapsed in on itself in some kind of gravid singularity. That, and some help from her employers, who really couldn’t just let her tear apart a whole chunk of the universe on their watch; they couldn’t control her, nor could they even hope to slow her down, but at the very least they could prevent a full collapse of local reality through generous application of distortion equipment and a non-insignificant amount of fiddling with universal constants that brought the whole of existence far too close to the brink of complete meltdown than anyone involved wanted to admit. But what other option did they have? It was either bring the house down or let Pavita blow it up from the inside out, and frankly, neither option sounded all that appealing. The sole difference was that, in the end, there was a non-zero chance that the turkey wouldn’t just destroy everything. That her body, for all that it was impossible by any decent measure, would eventually reach a point where it couldn’t grow any more and just stop; or, barring that, the broodmother did inevitably have to give birth, allowing them something like nine months to prepare for enough new life to populate multiple universes several times over coming out of a body that most likely would be occupying the entirety of one. It was all hopes and dreams at that point; the best they could do was sit there and shunt everything in Pavita’s way into a pocket dimension, then pray that it wouldn’t destabilise things too much when they tried and bring it all back. As for Pavita, the broodmother was far too happy being lust-drunk to really think about anything in particular. Whenever she tried to formulate a thought, it just sort of drifted away, never to be seen again; her brain was too overtaxed with the work involved with processing all that sensory information it was being fed, and since it didn’t grow in tandem with the body it was controlling, the backlog only grew bigger the more Pavita herself grew larger. What she was feeling wasn’t even her present; rather, it was what her body had told her several seconds prior, and her brain had just then barely managed to catch up with, leaving the turkey with a long and longer delay, where her present and everyone else’s grew increasingly more distant from one another. She was lost in herself, adrift in an ocean of sensations deep enough that Pavita wasn’t even sure if it had a bottom, much less if she could reach it. She was lost, and refused to be found again; if she could simply be there, swimming in her own ecstasy for the rest of her days, she would. Part of her may know that this just wasn’t possible, that she was going to have to give birth at some point in the future, after which it would all be over, but by then, she was certain she’d be so massive that it wouldn’t matter anymore. That is, assuming she even gave birth at all. It was supposed to be a rule that everyone who was pregnant would eventually bring about new life, but wasn’t she already in flagrant violation of most of physics? Wasn’t she already breaking so many “laws” that they could hardly be called as such? Ultimately, what exactly was keeping her from just going on forever if not for her own choosing to do so? What reason did she have not to simply declare that she wouldn’t ever be over with it, that instead she would rather keep on being gravid until she very well felt like she didn’t want to anymore? None. No reason at all, and it was this realisation that brought a smile to the turkey’s face when it first popped into her head. It could be that she was simply delusional; maybe, for all of her power, Pavita was still a slave to her own body, and would have to eventually give birth to all the new souls gestating within her. Maybe she’d wake up months down the line, bigger than ever before but ready to become empty. Maybe she didn’t have the power to dictate what reality was outside of her own mind, but she was still going to try; she was still going to go through the whole pregnancy holding onto this insane notion that she could decide whether or not it would go forward or not, this ridiculous idea that, in the end, she could simply say “no” and she wouldn’t give birth. She would obliterate the local star and take the place of the stellar system, everything inside of it, down to the smallest rock, up to the very fusion engine at the centre of it all, atomised by her encroaching form. She would occupy more and more space in the interstellar vacuum, her milkiness so spiked that she’d be gifted with a permanent set of lactic rings several light-years in length. She’d have a gut so colossal that it would, eventually, outsize the rest of her combined, quite the feat given what her tits and ass looked like. And eventually, she would break the barrier and find the nearest star, only to have become so immense by then that it was snuffed out before Pavita had a chance to realise it was even there at all. She would eventually do so much more. She would grow to encompass the local cluster of stars, then keep going until she became the cluster, every life inside of her a brand new twinkling light, ready to be delivered into a universe under the care of their devoted mother. Entire nebulae would be turned into mass to be poured into her, replaced with milk, more milk, and yet more milk pouring out of Pavita by the billions of gallons. And eventually, the whole arm would be consumed, an entire chunk of the galaxy simply removed from existence, that a broodmother might take its place. And, in the end, she would be there, floating in the vacuum of space, growing ever bigger, ever fuller, ever more fertile, never quite reaching an apex, yet so dreadfully close to one all the same. Maybe one day she would find an end to it, having become the biggest thing in existence. Maybe afterwards she’d come back down, becoming big enough to be her own stellar system with herself as the shining star in the centre. But until then, she just had herself: big, biggest, becoming bigger by the second. And she was going to milk every second of it for all that it was worth.

The sun was about ready to disappear under the horizon when the giant snake prepared for his final round around the woods. He’d spent the whole day patrolling its outskirts, courtesy of the local festival always bringing with it an endless supply of drunkards who got lost in the trees after thinking they’d make a great improvised bathroom, but at least he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of any alcoholics stumbling through on their way to losing their bearings. Even still, Lanjat made sure to prowl every inch of his set path, taking extra care to catalogue any tracks that seemed to go into the treeline but not back out; for that last patrol route, he’d be going through a normally-unused path in the northeast, usually reserved for when hunters were given permission to go after local game during the winter season. Despite his immense size, the serpent was almost completely silent as he slithered his way over to the starting point, deftly avoid branches and leaves as he practically flew through the air at a speed that looked entirely out of place on someone as large as he was; years upon years of moving about in those woods had give him a near-perfect mental map of the area, to the point where he could probably navigate it with his eyes closed. If need be, the snake could most likely be on the opposite end of it within an hour, something that would take even experienced travellers and hunters the better part of a whole day… though, being about ninety feet in length probably helped when it came to that. Once in position, Lanjat slowed down, bending his head downwards to investigate any tracks that might indicate someone had come through recently. Music could still be heard in the distance, but usually most of those who got lost around there did so far earlier on in the day, when they weren’t busy gorging on the potluck. Nevertheless, the serpent did his best to inspect every inch of the terrain, taking care to analyze every broken twig, every disturbed shrub, just to ensure that no one violated the sanctity of the forest… or became irrevocably lost, that was also a bad time. With him not expecting to find anything at all, Lanjat was surprised to see footprints coming from the direction of town, ones that actually managed to remain on the barely-traversed hunting path for quite a while before diverting into the trees proper; had someone decided to come fetch an extra snack for the feast? The giant snake could feel his rage boiling already if that were the case; if there was one thing he would not tolerate, it was poaching, with the last time he found anyone guilty of it needing the intervention of local authorities before he outright chucked the guilty party off the cliff next to his home. On closer inspection, however, it would appear that it most likely wasn’t a hunter operating off-season: there was too much damage to the surroundings, so much that it was clear that the intruder, whoever they were, wasn’t even attempting to hide their presence. In fact, a closer look at the tracks revealed this person to have been rather confused, with multiple turnarounds and attempts to return to the town, only to get lost and return to the trail… before ultimately veering off towards the treeline and disappearing from sight. At that point, Lanjat became far more worried than he did angered, as the case had progressed from an intruder to someone who was very much in danger of losing themselves in the woods and needing rescue. With no physical tracks to follow, Lanjat had to resort to his more primal sense: taste… or at least whatever counted as taste for a snake… or whatever he happened to be; it was hard to discern what standard he should judge himself by, given that he was bigger than any serpentine creature he’d ever met, but one thing he did know for certain: as soon as his forked tongue met the air, he felt the familiar pang of someone who didn’t belong in there. Denim, processed cotton, sweat, infinitesimal traces of what tasted like condiments and spices, most likely someone who had decided to go foraging for something special to add to the potluck and ended up getting lost, which added up to them probably being a tourist that either had absolutely no experience in woodland survival, or one that did but wasn’t aware of how tricky the local area was to navigate. As he considered his options, the snake’s body practically moved on its own, relying on muscle memory to shift his head from side to side, allowing his tongue to guide him closer and closer to whoever it was that had left that trail behind them; the closer he got, the stronger the “scent” became, until he began to make out other characteristics: definitely feline, most likely very young, late twenties at most, and judging from the relatively little amount of perspiration, probably a cat with some outdoor experience… or one that knew how to keep their nerves in order. A few minutes later and he wouldn’t be needing his tongue at all, being able to hear the unmistakable sound of both footsteps and incredibly loud swearing. He was taken aback by the string of expletives floating in his direction, so powerful that even he had to blush slightly at what he was hearing; he wasn’t one to use terms like “unladylike”, but the sort of language he was picking up was unbefitting of just about any civilized person! It would appear that, rather than growing increasingly terrified at the prospect of becoming lost in a forest the size of a large county, the feline had instead decided to start raging against the heavens in the most direct, crass manner possible; in a way, it was actually sort of funny, enough that Lanjat had to stifle some laughter as he got closer and began hearing the sorts of things coming out of that (correctly deduced) young woman’s mouth, most of which were too insulting and debasing for polite society. Considering their general attitude, however, the snake figured that he’d be good with simply slithering up to them and introducing himself normally, rather than trying to hold back in order not to further scare someone who was already on edge. Little did he know, his silent approach hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed, for the cat turned around the moment he got within fifty feet of her, looking about as pissed off as her words, shouted at no one in particular, seemed to suggest. “Great, now I have to deal with a fucking forest monster too!” the calico cat cried out, rolling her eyes, “Alright, just get it over with, I’ve given up already. Never was much for vore anyway…” Lanjat could do little but flinch and reflexively smile, too stunned to say anything, too surprised to offer any alternatives. He had no intention of eating her, of course; the whole point of finding the feline was to take her by the hand and then back to civilization… but given the sort of attitude she had, plus the fact that she seemed ready to take him on using nothing but her bare hands, a certain few ideas began to creep up on Lanjat’s mind, ideas that he hadn’t had in quite a long time. Perhaps, he thought to himself, the two of them could enjoy something different from the usual fare; if the cat was as feisty as she appeared to be, it would be downright criminal to waste such a fine opportunity to share a good time with someone at least half as wild as himself. His smile must’ve given him away as well, considering the cat in front of him raised both of her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her, adopting a stance that could only be described as equal parts nonchalant and intimidating, if that even made sense. “I don’t fuck animals, you know?” she scoffed, “So don’t get any bright ideas.” “I’m not an animal,” Lanjat stated simply, getting a reaction out of the lost feline that wasn’t a purely hostile one, “I’ve been following your tracks thinking you got lost, and I was going to help you get back to town.” “Oh. Well, that’s… alright, I suppose that’s… fine?” the unnamed cat stumbled over her words, looking confused as to how she should act now that the giant beast was revealed to actually have a functional brain, “I wasn’t lost, you know, I was just… temporarily without guidance, I was just about to get back on the trail and head back, yeah.” “Is that why the tracks you left were several hours old?” The young woman’s cheeks lit up almost instantly, the embarrassment fighting its way through the many layers of anger and annoyance to proudly display itself for all to see… for all of a second or two, before the calico looked away in a huff and pretended that the last few moments hadn’t just happened. Despite this, her body language seemed to indicate she was far more relaxed than before, though not necessarily comfortable with being approached by a random stranger somewhere so far away from civilization. In the time it took for Lanjat to formulate this thought, however, she grunted and turned back around, only to sit down next to a tree, scrunch up her legs and place her head on her knees. “I thought I could just dip into the woods for some ginger, but I guess I was wrong!” she chastised herself, “Tried following the trail, but ended up getting lost ten minutes later. It’s like the trees kept shifting around, I swear…” “These woods are hard to navigate even for those who are accustomed to them,” Lanjat reassured her, taking his chances and moving closer. On seeing no resistance, he placed himself beside her, trying to go as low to the ground as he could, “even seasoned hunters need to be escorted out every once in a while. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself.” “I guess…” the cat murmured, looking out into the distance, “It’s getting late though. The potluck’s probably started already, so it’s not like I can help anymore. The whole day is just ruined.” This was his opportunity. The snake allowed the calico to ruminate on what had happened for a few moments before making his move, gently coiling up around her and letting the cat know just how large he truly was. He didn’t yet put his proper material on display, but it was clear (or should be clear) from the way he was acting that he was offering a lot more than simple comfort when he spoke up again. “If you’d like, my house is just close by, and I was gonna go back after checking for stragglers anyway. I’d be more than happy to cook something for the both of us… or, I can just take you back to town, no strings attached. Your choice.” He smiled, hoping to make it clear that the offer was entirely genuine; as cute and attractive as the cat was, the serpent wasn’t one for forcing himself onto personal limits. If anything, he quite liked being alone most of the time, and the invitation was only extended because of the rather unique circumstances surrounding their situation. Thankfully, the answer came only after a short period of deliberation, during which the calico very clearly gave him as thorough of a once-over as she could, including having her eyes rest on a very specific part of him for what felt like longer than they should, complete with a sly, slightly toothy grin forming on the corners of her lips. When the feline looked up again, she was beaming, though no less ragged-looking than before. “I’d love to.” Gods, that smile… with a single gesture, she went from intimidating and downright nasty to one of the most beautiful sights that Lanjat had the pleasure of ever laying his eyes on. He could barely contain his own excitement when he flattened himself against the ground, instructing her to climb on; the snake could clearly feel that same, very specific part of him trying to make itself known to the world, needing him to consciously suppress his own urges in order to avoid any embarrassments. Once more, the trees flew past him at a dangerous speed, though not as quickly as they had beforehand; he did have a passenger on his backside now, so it was important to both pay extra attention to where he was going and not have the poor thing panic too much. Nonetheless, the two emerged onto the clearing where he had built his house no more than ten minutes later, after which Lanjat made sure to give the calico plenty of time to take in the sights. For what it was worth, the cat was about as impressed with it as he assumed she would be. If the enormous cabin wasn’t enough to leave her absolutely floored, given that it was probably about as much bigger compared to regular housing as its owner was to other people, then the beautiful view of the valley beyond it, just below the sheer cliff, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, certainly would. There was a certain picturesque quality to it, given the small farm-slash-orchard that Lanjat kept next to it, making it look like an odd combination of a farmhouse and extremely expensive vacation home for some foreign millionaire; there was little to indicate that it actually belonged to the forest’s guardian, let alone that said guardian was a serpent of his size. With his own grin glaring brightly, Lanjat took his sweet time slithering over to his front door, making sure to take every unnecessary detour he could get away with while detailing the various ways that he liked to spend his time when he wasn’t out patrolling the woods. He could tell that the calico wasn’t really listening; she was still awestruck by the sheer magnitude of it all, probably expecting some random hovel in the middle of nowhere that she’d have to pretend to enjoy, not what amounted to a several-story manor with its own produce farm. What made it even better was that, for the snake at least, it was a genuinely middling house; it just so happened that he was that big. Content in his little display, the serpent moved towards the front door and placed his passenger on the ground, moving aside and offering to let her in first. With a single hand, he opened the entrance and gave her all the room in the world and more to step into the foyer, at which point everything that she had seen up until that point suddenly felt small, however that was supposed to work; not only were the calico’s expectations completely muddled by what she saw in the clearing, they were still somehow surpassed by the house’s interior! Everything was done on an immense scale, even stuff as simple as the kitchen appliances… which, given the house’s owner, made some actual sense once she thought about it; the overabundance of stepladders and rigging assembled around everything seemed to indicate that the snake was at least considerate enough to think about smaller folk, but one had to wonder if they received enough visitors to warrant such preparations; and, if so, just where did they go? Was the colossus really as gentle and unassuming as they presented themselves as, or did they pose as much of a threat as others of their kind? “Mind the pit,” Lanjat offhandedly mentioned, moving past her, “I use it for myself, but it’s a bit difficult to navigate the first time around without some help. Come!” The sheer dissonance between her thoughts and the outwardly friendly disposition of her forest savior were enough to get the calico’s legs to move on their own, eager to find out just what this “pit” was. Now, the cat had never been afraid of heights, but as soon as she stepped close to that hole in the ground and looked down, all colour flushed from her face and her knees began rattling, because that thing was deep; so deep, in fact, that she couldn’t even properly see the bottom, though whether or not that was the height of it or the fact that every surface was covered in pillows was still up for consideration. The snake beside her, meanwhile, happily dove into it, coiling around the edges and allowing his body to rest on the many ledges and padded platforms, quickly revealing the whole thing to be a massive bed-couch-resting place of sorts… which, again, given the size of the snake, made absolute sense now that she thought about it. Still not enough to make her feel safe next to the edge, so she took a couple of steps back, just to be sure. Only when Lanjat was safely within his sleeping pit, arms resting over the edge and head thrown back, did he turn towards his guest; when he spoke up, his voice was somehow even softer than before, so much so that the cat once more more found herself walking towards him almost subconsciously. “So, you haven’t even told me your name yet. And neither have I, now that I think about it” - he chortled - “I’m Lanjat, and it’s a pleasure to meet you; what might you be called, sweetheart?” Suddenly, the feline felt her cheeks brighten and her body heat up, the atmosphere growing denser and warmer as that smile she was getting broke down every defensive barrier that she’d erected around herself. How could she have ever doubted, for even a second, that this Lanjat was anything other than her knight in shining armor? Surely someone like them wouldn’t take advantage of someone like her, not in this situation; hell, it felt downright insulting to suggest otherwise, especially seeing as the door had remained open behind her, and there was nothing to indicate he would stop her from leaving. He was inviting her to come closer, to step forward and join him in lounging about doing nothing of substance, and after such a long time traipsing around the woods without any bearings to follow… she might just take him up on his offer. The calico barely noticed as her body began to react to the snake’s presence, a certain tightness building inside of her the closer she got; her shirt was already starting to ride up her torso, her pants creaking ominously. “Samantha,” she replied, “but you can call me Sam… please call me Sam, heh.” “Oh, Sam, I wouldn’t think to do anything but that,” Lanjat crooned back, beckoning the cat closer, “now, far from me to be so bold as to suggest anything, but, if you would be so kind, there is plenty of room in here if you so wish to share it with me…” The invitation was obvious and the intent even more so, yet for some reason Samantha couldn’t think of any reason to say no. A beast tgat big could very well force her to go along with things, but instead, there he sat (coiled?), asking her to step forward and join him in his relaxation. There wouldn’t be a lot of time for waiting around the moment their two bodies touched again, this much she was certain of, but it was still an alluring prospect nonetheless; besides, she hadn’t felt this hot since the last time she brought another stray cat into her own abode, and that little episode was feeling increasingly insignificant compared to what she was observing in front of her in that very moment. A snake of that caliber would certainly have a lot more to offer than someone of her own kind… someone of her own size… and her body seemed to think so as well, since it was apparently trying to match Lanjat in any way it could. Maybe it was the giant’s mere presence, or perhaps his honeyed words carried with them magical power; whatever the case may be, it was clear that whatever was happening to her was not normal in the slightest. The closer she got to the pit, the more her body engorged and filled, seemingly from nowhere; the feline’s shirt was already struggling to deal with the pair of breasts it was holding back, both of which had grown to encompass a significant chunk of her chest, and if that weren’t enough, two more nubs had appeared beneath them, seemingly heralding the appearance and emergence of a brand new rack! Down below, her hips were widening and her thighs were fattening, asscheeks rising like dough and muffin-topping almost indecently from her increasingly-torn jeans. Quiet sloshing could be heard coming from her, before her tits were stuffed so much that even those noises were muffled, both mounds on both rows inflating to the point where even the slightest touch caused them to erupt with gouts of thick, warm cream. “W-what’s happening to m-me…” the calico moaned, looking up at the snake and not knowing how exactly to react, “I f-feel so hot…” “My presence is known to cause such reactions,” Lanjat replied dismissively, even as his own arousal was stoked, “I’m truly sorry, but if you’d like, you can always turn arou-” “No!” The scream had come from nowhere, and even Sam didn’t know what caused her to have such an outburst. All she knew was she felt hot, she felt horny, and she needed to have something done about it. By that point, the weight on her chest had grown to the point where her legs couldn’t hold it anymore, and the cat fell to her knees, only to immediately topple forwards and end up flattened against the ground, lying atop a growing bed of breastflesh… one that had a third row added to it when she wasn’t looking. Each mound had become big enough to be able to cover her whole torso just by itself, filled to the brim and leaking heavily even without stimulation, and yet they kept growing regardless, pushing the poor cat upwards and above the floor, until she had to stretch her arms out as far as they went just to be able to touch it… until even that wasn’t enough. In the pit, Lanjat’s reaction to the whole thing was quite obvious, though it would take a few seconds before the tip of the proverbial iceberg came peeking just high enough for Samantha to be able to see it, even if the thrumming, throbbing sounds of the snake’s hyperactive cum factories were all-but obvious, echoing from the depths. The sight of it just made the feline’s transformation worse, with her tits practically doubling in size in an instant, and each of her asscheeks packing enough mass onto them that they began rolling onto her back, threatening to bury the cat underneath her own curves. And yet she didn’t care; if anything, her moans and cries and begging for more only called for the situation to become worse, something that Lanjat himself was more than happy to play into; he leaned closer, doing his best not to touch his enormous shaft just yet, bringing his fangs into dangerous proximity with the outermost edges of the topmost row of tits that his soon-to-be-lover sported. Those sharp things dripped with… well, not poison, but something just as dangerous. “If you so desire,” he explained, “I can give you a little help. An infusion, a painless bite, and what you see now will be naught but an appetizer for your true potential~” With her eyes glazed over, Samantha stared at those shiners, pondering on whether to immediately agree or moan even louder as a response of sorts. She settled by doing both, first the latter, then the former, again and again until her words turned into nonsense sounds that were little more than babbling. Lanjat, happy to see that his newest visitor had taken so eagerly to his offer, wasted no time in providing what he promised; with a lunge, he sunk both fangs into one of the cat’s breasts, a surprisingly painless intrusion that almost immediately made things so much worse. Her body began twisting, changing shape to make way for the growth spurt building up and getting ready for a final blast. It wasn’t enough for her to merely be a cat anymore, for the sort of body that could please Lanjat, and the sort of body that could please the raging inferno of lust suddenly burning inside of the feline herself, was the sort of body that could take as many modifications as it needed to make it become ever more obscene whenever any stray lewd thought crossed her mind. She had to become more, be more, and to that end… she needed more room. Her spine bent and popped, cracking and snapping into place as her torso was elongated, making room for even more rows of milk-stuffed udders to appear from nowhere; within just a few seconds of this starting, this extra length began to bend at a ninety degree angle before thickening considerably and packing on additional muscle mass, giving the cat the countenance of some sort of equine… a taur! A brand new pair of legs emerged from where her waist should’ve been, feline in nature and covered in sodden fur, pawing at the ground for the few, brief seconds that it had to do so; wouldn’t take long before the many tits burgeoning outwards from her tauric undercarriage became so massive that all she could do was allow her brand new paws to sink into their folds as she was lifted upwards, fortunately being given an increasingly privileged view of the cock getting ready to fuck her. Lanjat had been nothing but patient throughout her quick and unexpected transformation, but it was clear from the way that shaft was throbbing that he wasn’t going to be waiting much longer; in fact, the snake had already begun to clamber out of his pit, their long, sinuous tail creating a large circle around the tauric cat, tightening and coming closer with each run around her. Samantha’s life had somehow turned upside down faster than she could process it, and now her greatest fear wasn’t that she’d be lost in the woods, but those few brief seconds during which she couldn’t see her new lover’s mast, whenever he happened to be slithering around her and not directly in front. In those occasions, she begged for it to go in a lot of places, be it between the many tits pushing her up towards the ceiling at a dangerous speed, or just directly inside of her, hoping that being bloated with cum would help her grow even bigger than before. Lanjat, to his credit, managed to keep up the teasing for long enough that his newest partner was practically on the verge of tears by the time he actually acted on it; the snake had not expected things to take a turn for the sexual so quickly, nor did he ever dream of the possibility that someone might genuinely react to his presence in such an exaggerated manner. Usually it was just a couple of cup sizes and maybe a handful of pudge around the waist, not literally sprouting dozens of taur-tits and an ass so wide that it literally covered their entire body up to the head, trapping Sam in a cocoon of her own curves… and coincidentally giving him two perfect spots to sink his hands into when he needed leverage to start pounding her properly. Given the rate at which she was growing, the giant snake had no intention of making it go even faster; his house was large, yes, but if he went too far he could still break free of it, and the last thing he wanted to do was spend the better part of a month cleaning up cum and milk from the surrounding woods, not to mention the damage it would do to his crops. No, better to aim the bloated cat towards the pit and then make sure his own shaft was nice and tucked away in the many cleavages bloating up underneath her; they were still sensitive enough that the cat screamed out for his name before her voice broke completely, still soft enough that his own spine seemed to vibrate with how much he was shivering, still tight enough that he doubted the proper slit in which he was supposed to bottom out would be able to compare. It was pure heaven, enough that, after a while, even his enormous rod wasn’t big enough to poke out the other side, even when those ponderous orbs of his slammed heavily against the bottommost row of tits at the far end of Samantha’s tauric body. The house shook in all directions, the ground cracking slightly as the floorboards failed to hold up the weight of those tremendously-sized mammaries; in that moment, amidst the frantic thrusting and primal, animalistic grunting, Lanjat was quite happy with his decision to splurge out on reinforced building materials for his foundations, for at least now he could entertain himself with a body that had become too heavy for even the most expensive of homes to contain. Soon enough, Sam would be spilling into his pit, multiple rows of milk-makers gushing their sweet contents into it; the snake was going to need a vacuum pump for that, but he no longer cared. Just as long as he had Samantha there to rut, to use as the overinflated fucktoy that she so longed to be, then everything would turn out to be just fine. Outside, the sun was setting, and the forest was getting ready to sleep. In the distance, the festivities carried on, blissfully ignorant of their missing cat. Through the front door of Lanjat’s manor, a thick puddle of milk began to ooze. And it would only get thicker as the night went on.

“A-are you sure this is ok?” “Trust me, the boss is fine with it. It’s on me, alright? No need to worry!” Those were reassuring words, and she trusted her friend, so why exactly did Melinda not feel the slightest bit more confident that things were fine, then? If anything, having her vixen pal tell her that she was paying for the whole spa treatment only made her feel all that much worse; what if she needed the money at the end of the month, or had a sudden emergency that pulled the rug from under her? There were so many things that could go wrong that Melinda couldn’t even properly put them all out at once, resulting in her worried words being mixed together into an incomprehensible jumble that didn’t even make sense to the vixen, Cynthia, who by that point was practically a master at deciphering her friend’s anxious mutterings. “If I hear you telling people to stop, I’m bapping you across the back of the head, do you hear?” the vixen declared, firmly, in a tone that let her friend know she wasn’t at all exaggerating, “I worked really hard to be able to give you this, and I know that just makes you more nervous, but you deserve this, ok? You got me this job and I’ve been having the time of my life, so now it’s your turn to sit your ass down and let us pamper you. Are we understood, Melinda?” In all truth, the young woman wanted to say no, but knew better than to protest when her friend gave her that gleaming, predatory stare that betrayed her more animalistic impulses. Though it pained her, and left her feeling considerably awkward, the human acquiesced, walking alongside the vixen and entering the salon parlour, where a team of assistants was already waiting for her. To call the blush on her face incandescent would be an understatement; turn off the lights and Melinda could probably illuminate the whole building with how hotly she was burning! Sensing an impending disaster, Cynthia snapped her fingers, signalling to the well-trained staff that they were to get busy showing her friend some love before she turned around and escaped their grasp; and indeed, Melinda did try and wriggle her way out, excusing herself with more nonsense words, before all-but being dragged into the nearest pedicure chair and ordered to stay put. Not the most relaxing way to start off her treatment, but it was the only one that the young woman would listen to. It didn’t help that all of the salon’s workers were anthros of some kind, whereas she was the only human in there. Though Melinda never went so far as to admit it, as the mere idea of potentially discussing her sexuality left her mortified, she had always felt a certain attraction for furkind, one that, while she had never had the opportunity to act on, was nonetheless strong enough to occasionally seep into her friendship with Cynthia. At no point did the human woman go so far as to admit what she felt, knowing as she did that it would just sour their relationship, but it got hard at times, especially when the two got together more closely and she got to experience everything that the statuesque, excessively curvaceous vixen had to offer: the silky-smooth touch of her fur, the warmth of her body, her hot breath on her neck… and now it was that all over again, except magnified by a thousandfold, given that the human woman was about to receive a full-body treatment rather than just a tight welcome hug. It would be maddening, if Melinda wasn’t already too busy trying to contain her barely-existent lust from even starting to boil up inside of her. The first step seemed innocuous enough: picking the new colour for her nails. As usual, Melinda stammered and stumbled her way through asking what the options were, with the fox attending to her helpfully showing off a whole palette of tinctures and pigments they had available, quite a few of which were surprisingly attractive for how garish they were. As usual, any choice that involved preening had to be coaxed out of her, and thus Cynthia took up her privileged position by her friend’s side, leaning down with a single raised eyebrow, a smirk on her lips, and plenty of provocative comments on the tip of her tongue. The process and logic were simple: keep poking and prodding at Melinda’s complete inability to withstand anything that might remotely be considered “improper”, and she’d eventually cave in and finally answer the damned question about what colour she wanted her nails to be. It was like a censorship trick, only more laborious and less likely to result in offended parents; feeling like just getting rid of that annoyance, Melinda picked a specific shade of bright, pale pink, hoping it’d look good on her after it was done setting in. Of course, that was just for the final step; in between then and the now was a full foot massage and treatment, which of course meant having furred paws run themselves across her feet. This seemed obvious, and indeed it was, but to Melinda it happened to be such a strong… well, “motivator”, for lack of a better, more wholesome word, that she looked to the side towards her vixen friend, desperately begging for mercy; the moment she felt soft, silken fur on her skin, she was sure she’d lose control of herself and do something stupid, a thought that didn’t exactly translate well into her terrified expression, seeing as the vixen’s response was to tell her that William was a professional, and one of the best workers they had on staff. Melinda looked down, her eyes wide, her mind absolutely fixated on the fox’s paws as they got closer and closer to her. She expected the initial impact to be overwhelming, overpowering, to be so powerful that whatever was left of her conscious self would be utterly shattered by a dream come true… only for it to be… good? Sort of good? Honestly, it was so underwhelming and anti-climactic that, for a few moments, Melinda genuinely smiled, content that things were actually going fine; that is, until she put two and two together, realized that the deliciously comfy foot rub she was getting was being performed by a fox with surprisingly soft paws, and the blush returned in full force, forcing the most hideous of sounds out of her: a single squeak. It was so loud that William didn’t even hear it, and Cynthia flinched once before asking her friend if she’d said something, only for her reply to come in the form of her covering her face with her hands and shaking her head. The vixen scoffed and rolled her eyes, but did place a hand on the top of her friend’s head to give it a nice petting, which, given the circumstances, didn’t exactly help. The squeaking returned, this time in the form of a continuous, high-pitch squeal that merited an even stronger pet, Cynthia by that point deliberately abusing her position just to force her friend to calm down by sheer sensation overload. She wouldn’t need to do this for much longer though, given what was going on down below. William hadn’t said anything, mostly because he chose to believe it was just his imagination, but it was becoming progressively harder to ignore how the feet he was massaging were getting… bigger? It seemed impossible, and yet he kept finding more and more of them to wrap his hands around, enough that it couldn’t just be him imagining things anymore. He tried saying something, yet every time he tried to speak up, his words were caught in his throat; what was he supposed to say? “Excuse me, Cynthia, but your friend’s feet are growing”? That was preposterous! And yet, that’s exactly what was going on. The more he pressed his soft pads against her soles, the more sole there was for him to press his soft pads against, the more Melinda’s toes gave him room to wriggle between them and, perhaps most shockingly, the coarser her skin got as well. While initially it felt like a net negative, it became apparent this was just a transitory state in between her merely having skin and developing a fur coating of her own, which began to sprout in earnest about five or so minutes after the foot massage began. By that point, even Cynthia had begun to notice something was off, but chose not to say anything and pretend like everything was fine; surely those weird rumours about the furrification virus were just bogus, right? There was no way something like that could be true, surely. As it turned out, reality didn’t much care for whether or not its inhabitants were skeptic of its ability to throw curveballs at them, because Melinda’s feet were growing, Melinda was starting to notice, and those weren’t human stompers anymore; it was hard to tell which species it was exactly, though judging by the fur pattern and the way those toes were bloating up, the closest that the vixen could think up was… hyena, probably? That’d be a rarity around those parts, so clearly it had to be their imagination; they were just hallucinating collectively, that was it. There was no way that even Melinda was now asking why her feet felt so weird or why she suddenly had an immense need to scratch something with them, nor was it remotely possible for poor William to have a foot so large smushed against his face that said face wasn’t even visible anymore. It took everyone involved far too long before they admitted to themselves what reality had been shoving in front of them for some time, and by that point there was very little they could do to stop it, assuming it could even be stopped at all. What was worse, it wasn’t so bad that Cynthia even wanted to put an end to it at all; the way those beans looked, the smoothness, the softness once she got over herself and actually touched them, much to her friend’s consternation, left the vixen biting her lip in anticipation of what the transformation might do to Melinda. It was surprisingly difficult to focus on what was happening, almost as if a veil had been placed over her vision and the only way to remove it was to keep acting as if everything was normal, even when it clearly wasn’t; that the vixen was aware of this and didn’t find it at all odd was in itself a warning sign, but who was going to say no to those wiggly toes and immense pawbs, just begging to have attention lavished onto them? Besides, it was already time to paint her nails (probably), and they’d look positively adorable with the colour that Melinda had picked up! The soon-to-be-not-human woman was taking the sudden change quite well, or at least as well as someone like her could, by having her mouth wide open and her eyes practically glued onto what was happening at the end of her legs. Rather than scream for help or continued to squeak though, she’d fallen silent, and as time went on and William too succumbed to the allure of working with a set of paws of that caliber, it became clear that she didn’t want to protest, a marked difference from her usual way of being. For whatever reason, Melinda seemed perfectly fine with this transformation, and even asked if they could get onto the next stage: the proper, full-body massage that she’d been lured there on the promise of. The rest of the staff, who by that point in time had already fallen under the sway of the same pseudo-spell that took Cynthia and William, flinched back into action and prepared the table where their newest, best customer would be given the best damned massage of her life. With her toes separated by large cotton swabs and the pink nail polish already drying, Melinda did her best to try and stay comfortable as another set of paws worked her over; perhaps, if she knew that the masseuse had been muscled out of the way and replaced by her dear friend Cynthia, she might’ve protested somewhat, but seeing as she was now perfectly content with having her eyes closed in order to just enjoy herself, she remained blissfully unaware of what was actually going on. Good for her as well, given that whatever had transformed her small human feet into colossal, heavily-disproportionate hyena pawbs clearly wasn’t done with her, and in fact had already begun to displace her previous form to make way for a brand new and improved one, curiously enough at the same rate as the massage progressed. The further up Cynthia went, the more of Melinda’s body below turned into a similar analogue to her feet, quickly leaving everything from the knee down looking like it belonged on an entirely different person and species; while this would be cause for alarm under any regular circumstances, these ones were anything but regular, and Cynthia instead spent quite some time giving that new fur a good rubdown. It was surprisingly soft, far more than it should be, approaching the exact same sensation as pristine velvet did; despite how shaggy and long it was, it flowed like water, allowing the vixen to practically lose her hands in the middle of it… and making her want more of it as well. The vixen rationalized it as really being about her friend; after all, that fur was just so soft, so irresistible to the touch, that surely Melinda would also want more of it to go around, no? It almost felt criminal not to give her body exactly what it seemed to want, that being more of a massage so it could transform into its final, perfect form; and indeed, the more Cynthia worked on her friend’s form, the less it resembled that of a human and the more traits and features it borrowed straight from, she guessed it, an anthropomorphic hyena! Not only that, but she was growing larger as well; not as big as her feet did, but just enough that the pawbs that resulted from it didn’t look as disproportional. The transformation provided for a rather well-built frame that left all onlookers flabbergasted, muscle mass just appearing from seemingly nowhere and standing in stark contrast to the inviting touch of her delicate, yet incredibly tough and durable fur coating; Melinda was now a creature of extremes, and instead of halting the process before it went too far, Cynthia put renewed strength and vigour behind it, given that the next bit were her friend’s thighs and that plush ass of hers. To imagine what they would look like… … was not necessary, because all the vixen had to do was sink her hands into one of the now-yeen’s cheeks and suddenly it was growing underneath her fingers! It was almost magical, the way that her friend’s already-tight butt just rose like dough, becoming more underneath her own, tender touch; it was enough to make the vixen feel genuinely inadequate for a couple of moments, just before she shook that thought from her head and moved on to greener mental pastures. It was a brand new experience for Cynthia, who had always been used to being the bigger one in their relationship… in fact, the bigger one in just about any relationship she had; the vixen was something of an amazonian beauty of her own, though she tried to tone it down unless it was absolutely necessary, so much so that it just never occurred to her that maybe that’s why Melinda felt so sheepish around her all the time. Now, however, now that her friend was becoming something greater than even her, a small part of Cynthia’s mind began to shout louder than it had before, a part of her that balked at the idea of no longer being the one half of their friendship that dominated whatever room they were in. It was dreadful, and not something that the vixen was at all interested in fostering, so she kindly swept it underneath the proverbial rug and did her best to ignore the occasional pangs of anguish that came from it; how could she ever feel bad about her friend becoming as beautiful as that? It was a shared experience, something they could both enjoy, not a dethroning or anything as silly as that! As for Melinda, it’d be charitable to say that she was thinking the same thoughts, given the young woman wasn’t thinking about much at all. Her brain had conveniently shut down everything but the most basic of processes, probably to keep her from overloading on the sensations drifting upwards from her transformed lower body, maybe to keep her on hold until such a point as she could witness the glory that was her new form in its full magnificence. She moaned quietly whenever one of Cynthia’s hands kneaded any part of her, groaned softly when she felt her ass or thighs being squeezed, only to immediately plump up, complained when the fur began to grow in only for the noise to turn itself around after she came to realize how silky and smooth it was. A few minutes later and everything below the waistline had been brought out to see the world, the new Melinda, the real Melinda, the one that had been hiding inside of her frail body all those years. It left her looking extremely unbalanced, with her diminutive upper body attached to an ass big enough to break through doorways and a set of flared hips and thickest thighs that would make even the hardiest of souls faint at the mere sight of them; Cynthia just barely avoided this fate precisely because she was wrist-deep into that plushness, and knew that it would be a grave disservice to just stop now of all times. Though her eyes began to glaze over, and her hands were going limp and numb underneath the onslaught of tactile sensations provided by Melinda’s new self, she kept going, because now it was time to move onto the other half of her friend’s transformation. Not that it was all pudge and softness of course; though the former human was mostly dominated by the kind of eye-catching curvaceousness that would make most knees wobble and shake, it was undeniable that her muscle tone had received a large boost to it as well, enough that, were one to truly admire those legs, they’d be torn between wanting to hug them and carefully avoiding anything within kicking range… not that Melinda would ever harm anyone like that; the mere thought of making someone sort of sad was already enough to lead her to a blind panic, much less causing physical harm. The same pattern repeated itself as soon as Cynthia got to handle her midriff, which sprouted easily into a much larger version of itself, and almost instantly began to chisel itself out in order to house a magnificently ripped six-pack of abs that, quite frankly, the vixen had to stop in order to admire; goodness gracious, she could probably grind cheese on those things and it would probably melt, and to think she could actually touch them… though, on second thought, it was perhaps best that she didn’t; such power could very well destroy whatever was left of her own mind. Such abs were not meant to be touched by mortal hands. Those breasts, on the other hand… The vixen trembled at the mere thought of what the transformation might do to a bosom that, to be frank, hadn’t quite been there for most of Melinda’s life. If it followed in the rest of her transformation’s logic, then the vixen could only assume that it would end up as a bountiful, full, stuffed pair of mounds that would cause anyone who gazed upon them to go so weak-kneed they could barely even stand; and if ever there was a reason to do something, then this was it, right there in front of her. With a glimmer in her eyes and a new nimbleness to her fingers, Cynthia dug deep into her friend’s bust, hoping to bring out the best that she could; much like with the abs and toned belly below, the results came around almost instantly, providing some much-needed motivation for a vixen that was quickly losing all ability to think straight, much less carry on with a massage. It seemed that each squeeze gave her friend a new cup size, each tug and push and pull made the initially-quiet slosh emanating from the inside to become just a bit louder, until those things were openly churning with their creamy contents. Some more effort and the first droplets began to surface on the tip of her engorging nipples, and a little bit more allowed her to begin leaking in earnest, with thin, white streaks falling off the sides of her increasingly-larger bust. Cynthia found herself openly salivating at what she was seeing, what she was touching; Melinda was now at least as big as she herself was, if not bigger still, and yet the transformation was clearly not done with her. The more the vixen silently begged for that body to keep growing, the more it did, providing for endless entertainment and a source of arousal that seemed intent on never letting go. By the time Cynthia was… well, not “done” per se, but at least satisfied enough that she could keep going, there was very little of Melinda’s torso exposed to the outside world anymore; the vixen may have gone a bit overboard with how enthusiastic her kneading became, resulting in a chest so ample, so bountiful, that even if it wasn’t constantly bloating and filling with milk, thus requiring two more staff members to help drain them, each breast would still be big enough to cover most of her friend’s upper body. Cynthia didn’t particularly mind; if Melinda hadn’t said anything so far, then clearly she wasn’t going to complain afterwards. Not to mention, now it was time for perhaps the greatest change of all, the one that would define her closest friend for the rest of her life… or however long that transformation lasted, at least: her face, and her head. Looking back at her handiwork, Cynthia couldn’t help but wonder what would happen after she got done with full-body massage, because there was absolutely no chance in a million years that the woman that got up from that table would be the same one that lay down on it; if the changes themselves weren’t enough, Melinda hadn’t said a single thing during the whole process, betraying just how much more different she was from her usual self. Indeed, while the vixen wasn’t aware of it, the psychological changes wrought to her friend were substantially more pronounced than the physical ones, one hell of an achievement given what the now-hyena’s body looked like. Very little of the original Melinda was left in her head, replaced with a newer, more confident version of herself, one that could actually look at a body like hers and flaunt it, rather than feel perpetually embarrassed by its mere existence. She wasn’t even in a trance-like state anymore, that much had stopped somewhere in the middle of her breasts’ expansive upgrade; rather, the yeen was now fully aware of everything that was happening to her, but chose to remain quiet anyway, waiting for the very end. Her knowing smirk, that little twist at the edge of her lips, was all that Cynthia needed to know that her friend was enjoying the whole thing as much as she herself was, and thus the vixen embarked on the leg of their journey. As she climbed up the vixen’s neck, it became clear that more surprises were yet in store, given that it began to bulk up and thicken out far past Cynthia’s expectations, and leaving her friend’s head looking even tinier in comparison to the rest of her body than it did before… though this was quickly rectified once the vixen got her paws onto Melinda’s cheeks, at that point having abandoned all knowledge of massage that she had employed up until that point; no longer would she need to worry about remembering what she was taught, merely to keep her fingers as close to that silky-smooth fur as possible, to keep running them through it, to keep making way for her friend’s head to match the impossibly-powerful neck it was resting on. The muzzle was the first major change, extending outwards with nary a sound from her skull, followed closely by the emergence of an incredibly dangerous-looking set of chompers that, if Cynthia didn’t know better, she might’ve been genuinely terrified of; each upper canine was easily as long as her forearm, enough to rip a gash through anyone that might go up against her if only the yeen wasn’t so placid and friendly as to be able to defuse any potential confrontation. And despite the fur on her face being much shorter than the forest of silk on the rest of her body, it was no less smooth because of it, and the glorious mane of hair she sported more than made up for it; it flowed down onto her shoulders, locks of it spilling from the table towards the ground, with a few select strands hanging mere inches from it. She was… something beyond beautiful. The whole staff gathered around the new Melinda, eager to get a closer look, utterly transfixed by the sight of her: the excessive curves, from her enormous bubble butt to the pair of breasts that dominated her entire chest and threatened to also spill over the sides of the table, to the ridiculously overblown coating of fur that seemed to stick to their hands like glue whenever they got anywhere close to it… passing through the way that her musculature somehow managed to complement a body that seemed fit for snuggling, not fighting, all while her perpetually-toothy grin should look terrifyingly threatening but instead turned out to be more inviting than anything else. The hyena had become a creature of opposites, and yet, rather than them joining to produce something that boggled the mind and forced it to repudiate the result as some sort of product of utter madness, every moving piece had fallen into just the right place to ensure that Melinda, the new Melinda, was the single most perfect thing anyone there had ever laid eyes on. The differences merely filled in the gaps left behind by their companions, making for a beautiful work of art that offered no blemish, no imperfection; just pure, hard, loveable hyena. And Melinda was well aware of this as well. She knew that her time had come, and thus resolved to put on a bit of a show for those around her, stretching her arms to the sides and making a big display out of pointing out how cramped she was now that the bed had become so tiny. Only then did Cynthia really notice how her ministrations hadn’t just transformed her friend into a hunky yeen version of them, but had granted them quite a significant height boost as well; stepping back to observe the results revealed that her head and feet were both a good yard or so off from opposite ends of the massage table, though Melinda had been nice enough not to say anything. Now though, she seized the opportunity presented to her and practically rolled out of it, getting on her feet and utterly flooring everyone present. The staff had taken some time before they were comfortable with the idea of the vixen, what with her already being significantly taller than anyone else was and carrying her own bust with as much size as was necessary to smother anyone in it. Over time, they grew to simply accept this and move on, even if the customers weren’t nearly as able to hide their obvious arousal at her sight; the important part was that Cynthia’s coworkers had used her as a benchmark, a sort of impossible standard to which no one else could compare, allowing them to work on larger and more hyper customers without nearly as much of a hassle as they used to. After Melinda got back up, however, all of their expectations were utterly shattered, because compared to the new giantess, Cynthia looked positively tiny; the hyena even had to hunch just to keep her head from bumping against the ceiling, which didn’t help much since it caused the yeen’s ample bust to hang down and silently beg to be squeezed and doted on. With everyone stunned into silence, Melinda gave everyone a big, wide, warm smile, and then immediately turned to her dearest friend. To Cynthia, whose magical hands had given her this new form, this new outlook on life; no longer was she the scared little girl who could barely fathom the idea of even so much as thinking about anything lewd. She was over that now, beyond it in fact, knowing as she did that such concerns were beneath someone as imposing as she was; not that this would mean any marked change in the way she treated anyone, but it was nice not to have to constantly worry over every little thing… and she had the vixen to thank for that. A vixen that, for some reason, looked to be a lot more attractive than ever before. “Dinner and a date?” Melinda spoke up for the first time since starting her transformation, her voice still the same as always, oddly enough. Poor Cynthia was left flabbergasted by the offer, trying to mumble something about her still being on-call, “I’m sure your boss won’t mind, honeybuns! So, dinner and a date~?” Tears were starting to flow. The vixen could only nod quietly. “Wonderful! My place, then~!”

Sirit and Marna had a problem, in so far as two deities could really have problems at all. Though they were happy to tell anyone who asked that their decision to take a greater role in managing their realms had been the best one they had made to date, such a wondrous outcome hadn’t come without a cost, and in their case, said cost came fundamentally in the form of time; more accurately, the time they weren’t spending together, at least compared to the way things were beforehand. There used to be a time, back when the dragon and kitsune couple were happy to let their mortal planes sort themselves out, where their days were spent in rapturous pleasure, in a nigh-endless sexual congress that not only served to exacerbate their already-prodigious power and proportions, but spilled over into the many universes they were in charge of; in fact, it was this that led them to take a more active role in taking care of mortal affairs, if only so they could fix all the issues that came with their arousal “infecting” the lower levels of existence to such a point that other gods were starting to take notice, and they couldn’t exactly claim to be paragons and rulers to other deities if they let their own passion get in the way of eternal bliss for their subjects. Unfortunately, even their time wasn’t unlimited, and the more they became involved in actually paying attention to what was happening down below, the more the two top gods came to realize they had to cut back on their regular habits; no more going at it like a pair of bunnies in heat at least a dozen times per hour, if not more, no more growing out of control as a matter of fact, and certainly no more allowing their fluids to go anywhere but into the hellish pits where they could be burned off into steam and then used to keep the demons perpetually sated after the deluge condensed into milk and spunk rains. No, for the divine couple, there was naught but mundanity looming ahead, a far cry from their usual fare; nowadays, in between having to pay attention to the other gods in the pantheon, managing supplicants and worshippers, and even having to go so far as to answer a billion or so petitions every other week, Sirit and Marna found themselves in a position where, far from a dozen climaxes repeated every hour, they could occasionally barely find the time to be together a dozen times for the whole day. Admittedly, this was a sex life that was significantly more active than any other, godlike standards included, but to the kitsune and dragon, it might as well be nothing, which made the prospect of carrying on like that for the rest of eternity… less than pleasing. It didn’t help that traits that were previously used exclusively for their ability to arouse the other party to an insane degree were now turning against them: it was one thing for Sirit’s beard and chest hair to be so hirsute and fast-growing that the couple’s attending spirits had trouble even keeping the forest of fur stable, let alone trim it down, but when he was stuck at a desk listening to the same prayer for what felt like the trillionth time, all of that luscious body hair was effectively going to waste… and clogging up some much needed space for extra papers. For Marna, while it might’ve been enticing for her to be able to produce milk at such an astounding rate that she could easily feed the collective totality of her realms for centuries with naught but a minute’s production, nowadays she found herself having to divert so much of her delicious cream into drains and effluvia portals that it felt downright criminal. But, above all, their bodies, their perfect, exaggerated and overbloated forms, once used to celebrate their divinity in the most intimate way possible, were quite literally being wasted on bureaucratic work, work that left the both of them tired, occasionally cranky, and increasingly unable to find the pleasure needed to kickstart one of their marathon sessions. Both of them were acutely aware of the fact that, if they did nothing to stop this, they would very soon end up not having sex at all, which was not something either of them had any intention of allowing to happen; as top gods of the pantheon and as icons of fertility and virility both, it fell to them to demonstrate the raw power of their sexuality at every waking moment, especially when signing off on documents that had nothing to do with it, for they knew that the moment they faltered in this endeavour, there’d be a million different pretenders wanting to take their spot. Not that they’d be successful, but having to deal with a civil war would cut into their increasingly smaller amounts of time off, not to mention leave them so exhausted as to be unwilling to have sex more than three or four times a day, a pitifully low amount for the type of divinities that they were. Though it took them a while before they reached the point where they had to start finding solutions, once they did, neither of them looked any further than… well, they didn’t exactly want to say it, nor even think about it, for doing so meant summoning them, and they couldn’t exactly do it somewhere that had anyone else around. No, they had to refer to them in abstract terms, using monikers and nicknames that didn’t speak to their true nature, while openly fawning over the possibilities that would be open to the two of them when they gave themselves unto the forge and reshaped their forms into something better; it was an offer that had been made to them some time ago, back when the couple first spoke to them, but not one that either the dragon or kitsune believed they would ever have to take. In their hubris, they thought themselves perfect, above such things as needing “upgrades”, even when they were clearly far above them on the proverbial chain of divinity… at least in practice. It was still an open question how a being that was nominally not a god managed to reach that level of size and power, especially when they seemed to come out of nowhere and just inexplicably imposed themselves onto the metaverse at large, but this was something neither Sirit nor Marna wanted to think about; rather, they set about working extra hard for a couple of days, even forgoing their usual dozen or so liaisons, in order to clear out enough paperwork that they could afford to take a break from their management. Not too long that it would cause a backlog, but just long enough that they could put some distance between themselves and the rest of existence in general, for what they intended to do simply could not be done anywhere where it risked spilling into… anything, really. For what they intended to do was so magnificent, so beyond the scale at which things usually operated, that to even so much as think about it was to invite disaster upon their home, as their power began to fill the two gods even before the two of them got to speak with them. Preparations had to be made, and the proper rituals obeyed, though mostly for everyone else’s sake: in their case in particular, the kitsune and dragon couple transported themselves to somewhere far enough away from the nearest instance of reality, out in the vastness of not-being, that they could be certain they wouldn’t accidentally bump into a universe and snuff it out. It was a curious place to be in, given that there was quite literally nothing there, making it difficult for the two of them to keep their bearings even while relying on their divine senses; at the same time, it was precisely when they reached this point of utmost confusion that they knew they were in the right spot, and after making sure they had everything prepared and every eventuality planned for, they called forth… the Great One. ‘Twas an interesting name, and not one the Great One herself was particularly fond of (she much preferred Lily), but after spending aeons trying and failing to get others to stop calling her that, the Arcanine had more or less given up trying; if even the top gods of the pantheon insisted on paying deference to her, there wasn’t a lot that she could do. Most of the time, she was content in just existing out in the fringes of existence, taking care not to bump into anything lest she accidentally subsume a couple million multiversal clusters into a fraction of a section of a single paw, or have one of the droplets of milk eternally falling from her nipples accidentally find its way into flooding the totally of supra-existence. It wasn’t all that lonely though, given that the Arcanine had access to effectively the sum total of all entertainment that ever was or could be, along with a couple of sneak peeks at alternate timelines where her alter-selves lived in similar, yet distinct conditions, keeping her well and truly busy and without even the smallest instant of boredom. At the same time, she always made sure to keep her eye out for whenever anyone wanted to take her up on her offer, one that she made sure to extend not just to the pantheon of gods that ruled over the metaverse, but to pretty much everyone she managed to get in contact with, which was admittedly a relatively small number compared to the amount of extant souls still flickering in the vast expanse that resided atop her snout. Really, sometimes she’d blink and the whole thing would be a completely different shape, with entirely different gods, and so many histories spent in that short amount of time where her eyes were closed that Lily could barely recognize it for what it was, a state of existence that, while difficult to get used to at first, she had eventually learned to love for the unique experiences it provided. After all, just as time could go by in a flash, so too could she focus and observe every second, every individual moment in the span of a handful of instants, or perhaps stand back and watch as a single universe went from birth to end, or anything between and without; whenever she was actually summoned, pulled from her ethereal state into a more physical form, she made sure to present herself in the most convenient manner possible, as the Arcanine was keenly aware that her true shape ran a significant risk of making other people go loopy from overexposure, even top gods such as the tiny little durg and the many-tailed fox beside him. Lily recognized them as the current heads of the metaversal pantheon, the same ones who’d been having some trouble with their love life, and almost instantly picked up on what they wanted her to do; that said, she figured it was best to let them say it themselves, and as such gave them all the time they needed to process her figure before speaking up. Easier said than done, given the sort of body that the Arcanine had. At its simplest, it was divided into two sections, with a tauric torso making up the vast majority of its mass, and an upper torso linked to it via a waspish, almost ludicrously tiny waist; the latter bloomed from this frankly miniscule connective point into an absolute behemoth of size and volume, with the Arcanine’s bust being of such a gigantic, incomprehensible scale that to even consider the reach of a single nipple would most likely collapse one’s brain into a black hole from sheer information overload… and somehow, they were the least impressive parts of her; in fact, even her sheaths, plump enough to give her tits a run for their money, paled in comparison to what her taur torso had to offer, especially the four pawns holding up her titanic self. Really, if the rest of her body was gathered up and put together on one scale, and a single one of those stompers was placed on the other, the latter would still so heavily outweigh the former that this hypothetical scale would instantly be shattered into pieces, if not worse! To have four of them, just there for anyone to see, was something so ridiculously overwhelming that for once, Sirit and Marna were happy to remain ignorant of something, even if that something was their only hope going forward. Besides, they themselves represented but a little tiny mote of not-dust on the very tip top of the edge of the Arcanine’s muzzle, so small as to be effectively non-existent, and the only reason why they were even seen at all was because their energy signature was powerful enough for Lily to pick up on. Faced with such a creature, it was easy for the divine couple to forget that the Great One was not a god themselves, and in fact had never made any claims towards it; as far as Lily could remember, she just woke up one day, massive beyond the concept of massive, and decided to just live the rest of her life like that without worrying herself about the consequences. That it broke every known law of reality didn’t bother them, nor did it give them cause to think about anything at all; when one was so big that the entirety of existence barely registered as a fraction of a percentage point on the tip of their snoot, such trivialities stopped mattering altogether. “On to the business at hand though,” Lily spoke to her guests, making sure to keep her telepathic voice as quiet as possible, “you’re here for some help, I take it?” Despite it being toned down enough that they didn’t instantly burst their skulls open, the raw power contained in those words was enough to bring both gods to their knees, suffering from spontaneous and near-instant climax; already they could feel themselves growing, presumably as a result of standing atop someone who continuously expanded in every direction at a speed so high that it might as well not be counted… or maybe the Great One’s presence was just such that it caused in them a visceral, unstoppable reaction that would set about transforming them without them even realizing it was happening. As for Lily, all she could do was sigh; this sort of thing always happened, and it was always a bore. As such, she gave her guests some more time to recompose themselves so they could take the lead, even though she’d heard the same words so many times before that she could probably mouth them as they went along. “O-Oh Great One,” Sirit began, “we beseech you, deliver us from our plight!” Of course, that was always a popular choice. “Grant us some of your power!” Marna continued, in accordance to the script, “That we may find peace amidst our duties!” Always so dramatic. It was all that Lily could do to just not laugh, even though she really wanted to giggle at the sheer melodrama that always came accompanied with those requests. It wasn’t enough for them to just walk up to her and politely ask that she hand out the gift that she said she would, no, they had to make this huge deal out of it, like she was some sort of destructor deity who would ravage their minds if they didn’t prepare adequately, as opposed to just a really big fire pupper. Still, it was at least evidence that they were trying, and thus they deserved a little something special, especially considering that these weren’t just any old little ones, but the very rulers of the divine pantheon come to beseech her for the Great Change! Yet another name that the Arcanine wasn’t really fond of, yet another name that she nonetheless had learned to live with because those residing within her metaverse decided to call it that and wouldn’t shut up about it; at the very least, it was indicative of what the process actually was, even if in a rather generic, nondescript way, in that it was a change, and it was certainly great in scale. In essence, it is what Lily offered to any who would take her up on her word, the ability to not just reach her own level of power, but to do so while being transformed into facsimiles of herself; from whatever shape they used to have into big ol’ Arcanines, massive enough to overshadow the entirety of supra-existence, and all it took was the willpower to say “yes” when asked, and the presence of mind not to cum their brains out at the mere thought of it… neither of which those two on Lily’s snoot seemed to have in any appreciable measure. Still, they did come all the way out to meet her, and did go through the trouble of asking her the question when they could’ve easily just stayed there writhing around in pleasure (as they were by that point), so the Arcanine took it from there; the change itself could very easily come from her just snapping her fingers and making it happen, such was Lily’s terrific power, but she had the feeling that what the divine couple wanted was something a bit more… intimate, something more pleasurable to have them go back to the sort of life they were used to before. It would be a full circle, poetic in a way, and it was precisely the sort of mushy, yet terrifically lewd narrative that made Lily’s heart both melt and race with excitement, leaving her slightly blushy at the prospect of finally having some people of her own scale to play around with. Nonetheless, it was important to ask them if they were ok with the prospect of undergoing the Great Change in the first place, something which took a fair bit longer than expected seeing as neither the kitsune nor the dragon were really in any fit state to think words up, let alone utter them, but after some tactical nodding and a lot of prodding on Lily’s part, authorization was given, and the Change could begin in earnest. Truth be told, even the Arcanine had trouble trying to comprehend how exactly her powers worked, considering the sheer disparity in size should make what she was about to do patently impossible; the insertion was too large, too overwhelming, and if not for the fact that she was so much more powerful than literally anything anywhere, it might genuinely be metaphysically unable to take place. It would break some fundamental laws of nature that even she was subjected to… or at least, used to be before she brushed them off and figured it’d be best if she didn’t have to bother with such trivialities herself. ‘Twas a complicated state of being, the one that she had for herself, and not one that the Arcanine was particularly happy to have to experience on her own, hence her eagerness to get someone else to share in her own glory; after all, part of the Change was recognizing that it would be impossible to return to whatever universe the changed one had come from, as they would be far too big to even begin to think to fit, at least not without extensive used of compressed avatars. Of course, by that point, they wouldn’t really care, plus they’d be productive enough as to not need to go anywhere near the realms they managed; if all went according to plan, no more bureaucracy would be required, as the divine couple would be able to just gently brush up against the metaverse they ruled over and it would instantly be blessed with the sort of endless bounty that could create mythologies all on its own, and even then that would only represent a small fraction of the soon-to-be-Arcanines’ true potential. This last one was to become so great, in fact, that it was very likely it would turn into a problem of its own, given the lack of adequate means to vent it… though, with three colossal fire puppers there to enjoy one another, that might not be a problem anymore. It would certainly allow Lily to have someone to vent all of her cum into, especially if the transformation turned out to be especially successful; one of her biggest issues was always needing more and more space in which to keep her excess productivity, which was surprisingly enough becoming somewhat of an issue even in the literally infinite expanses of not-being that she resided in. It was one thing for it to remain empty, quite another for an Arcanine of her stature to suddenly stuff this not-space full of spunk to the point where all the blackness was starting to turn white… but not that time. Oh no, that time she had two very eager cocksleeves to use, two happy little lovers who were more than content with simply being there and letting her place them around her twin rods (well, twin for the moment, Lily never really knew how many of them there were at any given time if only she stopped looking for five seconds); one moment they were prostrating themselves atop her snoot, the next they were naught but tiny dots, miniscule little inklings that might have been gods adorning a vast, nigh-endless expanse of stretched skin that had been neatly and tightly wrapped around two of the Arcanine’s indeterminately many shafts. It was so quick that no one involved quite knew how it worked, merely that Lily had willed it to happen, and thus it did, no questions asked; perhaps the very concept of reality was so terrified of what might happen if the colossal fire pupper went for even a second without her every whim catered to that it went out of its way to ensure that she was given everything she could possibly need, or maybe it was just magic, who really knew? Certainly not the two “top” gods who were going to be on the receiving end of a lesson in superiority, and certainly not Lily herself; the Arcanine was far too busy trying to hold herself back from instantly exploding now that she had two people to fuck, two holes to fill, two Arcanines like herself to fashion out of smaller, frankly inferior forms. The process, this “Great Change”, brought out a very specific part of herself that very rarely got to see the (proverbial) light of day, the more dominant side that wanted to impose itself upon everything; thankfully, it was duly tempered by the vast ocean of empathy that kept screaming at her that she was overstepping her bounds and needed to get back before this more ravenous side of herself took over permanently. This entire thing was, ultimately, an exercise in cooperation, a transformative process whose goal was not to usurp anyone’s position, not to affirm herself as some kind of undisputed ruler, but simply to give to someone else the sort of enjoyment that she herself experienced on a constant basis. It was criminal to be the only one like herself, downright blasphemous that the only creature in that timeline that shared her size and power was… well, herself, the Great One, Lily, and not literally everyone else as well. Granted, there might be space issues if she went so far as to transform everyone the way she intended to with the dragon and kitsune wrapped around her cocks, but she was certain that it would all ultimately work out. As for her two eager volunteers, however, they would soon be taught a lesson in what it meant to be truly excessive. For two divinities most associated with sex, with self-indulgence, with fertility and virility in quantities so ludicrous that most mortals wouldn’t even be able to begin fathoming them, suddenly being filled in that way stretched even their ability to comprehend what was happening. They were gods, and thus they should be able to withstand any trial without so much as flinching, and yet simultaneously they found themselves, their bodies, as being little more than a basically non-existent accoutrement on a living condom made out of what they could only assume was a lot of magicked-up skin and muscle; to say that this strained their comprehension of reality would be an understatement, doubly so when Lily actually began to pump her hips forward and the first few droplets of cum began to pour into their insides. Even the smallest of non-loads, just the tiniest amount of the Arcanine’s seed, would be enough to utterly destroy entire multiversal clusters, and even for Sirit and Marna they were too much for them to handle; though in proportion to the Great One, the cum bulge at the very end of their shafts was relatively small, it had already outsized the divine couple by several orders of magnitude, a state that would not be upheld for long, as the whole point of being filled in the first place was to use the extra mass for the Great Change, for their new bodies! And as it turned out, be it because they were gods to begin with or thanks to Lily being so excited over the prospect of having someone to play with, the change that took place almost immediately after the first proper blast of cum was… something else. The load itself already left the two deities so bloated that anyone looking in from the distance wouldn’t be able to tell the shape of the Arcanine’s shafts inside of the colossal cumguts they had just created, quite a feat considering how girthy those things were; and yet, this was something that only lasted for but a few moments, as almost immediately after the cum blimps were formed, they shrunk back down, all the virile seed absorbed back into the dragon and kitsune’s forms in order to kickstart their new life as near-perfect replicas of Lily. Near-perfect, for their need for more, more and always more manifested itself in them developing quite a few more pairs of breasts than the original Arca-goddess’ single one, each of the two gods having their chest blossom with so many rows of titanic milk factories that their transformation into taurs did very little but provide even more space for even more racks to develop, and even then the amount of space available was absurdly low for the sort of additions being manifested. This issue with cramping became further compounded by the fact that the breasts alone were only half of the full apparatus, what with the dicks and pairs of balls still needing to grow in; thankfully, a couple more loads on Lily’s part ensured that a veritable forest of rods came in perfectly, at just the right angle, for both Sirit and Marna to effectively be stuck titfucking themselves whether or not they liked it, even if they stood perfectly still. The milk production churning away in their many breasts ensured that the dozen or so (if not more) shafts they sported would be on the receiving end of an endless, unceasing full-length massage, which would itself birth a whole different cycle that would inevitably end with the two of them becoming literally unable to stop themselves from just rolling their hips into their many cleavages; it was as if their conscious decision-making had been removed from the equation entirely, and their bodies had decided for them what things would be like going forward, a state of affairs that none of the three present there were in any mood to debate or fight against. Lily especially was quite pleased with the way things turned out, if for no other reason than she adored seeing others enjoying themselves… and judging from the noises coming up from those two, they were certainly enjoying themselves quite a lot! But that wasn’t enough, not for her, not for them, as the Great Change wouldn’t be truly finished until there were three physics-defying Arcanines all living together in that great expanse, so perfect and total in their magnificence that the question of managing their realms wouldn’t even need to be on the table anymore. Why bother with bureaucracy and proper protocol when they could just bless the entirety of existence with their creamy mannah? Why sit down at a table when they could wrap the whole of the metaverse around one of their many cocktips and just blast away, giving every civilization within all the resources they could ever possibly need? Better to just let things happen, to allow their bodies to flood and run over, to feel as their fur changed into a coarser, redder version of itself, to have their frames bloat and swell and grow in every direction, stretched and moulded into a further-augmented tauric form; better to throw caution to the wind and accept this gift that they were given, so that they may once again feel pleasure like they had before, so they could go back to the times where they could be together at every hour of every day, forever and always more… except now, with a third, equally lust-happy partner to throw themselves into the ring with them, helping to spice things up and make sure they would never be dull again. There, set against the blackness of non-existence, was, ironically enough, their everything; to the couple, each moment they spent being filled and reshaped into an even more perfect form was a moment in which they realized just how much they had been missing out, and just how foolish they had been to believe they didn’t “need” the Great One’s blessing. And as for Lily, she was just happy to have two folks to share her perfection with; it was the best win-win scenario for everyone involved. And it wouldn’t end until everyone was involved.

The initial impact was enough to keep him occupied for an indeterminate amount of time; quite literally so, as at those scales, things seemingly as simple and straightforward as “a second is a second” and “time moves forwards like an arrow” no longer applied as they did back on their home dimension. Both him and Clara were something greater now, a type of being that transcended the very concept of rules and around which reality had to bend itself in order to accommodate for their existence, rather than the other way around. Thus, it could be that he gazed upon the majesty of the other Arcanine for only a few seconds or minutes, or instead that “moment” of beauty and glory could very well have lasted for the entire duration of multiple multiversal lifespans; it was almost impossible for him to tell, even if he tried exceedingly hard to focus on it. “Don’t try to strain yourself too hard,” she told him, bringing a hand over to where he was floating (?) in the middle of utmost nothing, “it took me a long time before I could figure out how to look down at the lower levels… or maybe none at all. See, even I don’t know!” - she chuckled to herself, looking back at how difficult it had been to adapt to her status as a deity - “Just… relax, enjoy yourself for now. You can get started on acting all high and mighty after you’ve had time to get comfortable.” Her words were reassuring, but the context in which they took place made them patently absurd; did that Arcanine not see that they were so colossal that they violated every known law of physics? Did she, perhaps, find it normal to have to exist across multiple more dimensions than normal just to be able to communicate with others? And above all, how did he even know that’s what was happening? It was only then that the connection he shared with her was made readily apparent; up until then, the subconscious link the two of them established was just that, subconscious, allowing Brad to be given just the right amount of information needed to understand what was going on without overwhelming him with… well, everything else. Now that he was aware of it, however, it was time for the mental bridge to be strengthened, and allow Clara to give her lover everything he needed to know. Once more, the process lasted anywhere from a few brief seconds to entire uncountable infinities, but once it was done, the male fire-type was left speechless and unable to react. How could he say or do anything after being given those types of universal secrets? He might as well curl up for another stretch of forever and ruminate on them, if he didn’t objectively know the best course of action was to just accept it and carry on like it was perfectly normal, even when every fibre of his being screamed at him that it wasn’t; and given how immense he was, those were a lot of fibres shouting up into his head. Regardless, Brad kept going, powering through the thick wall of information and coming out the other side more motivated than before, not to mention quite larger too; it made for a stunning sight, being able to see his partner be as colossal and titanic as him, mostly because it informed him as to how it felt. No wonder Clara was always so eager to jump his bones; he had just barely gotten a taste of it and already he felt the intense need to share his love with whoever was closest to him in the most direct way possible. Thankfully for the both of them, their being close to one another offered a perfect solution to that problem, and thus the two spent a long, long time enjoying one another’s presence, arms wrapped around backs and legs locked behind waists, currents of fluids that floated across vast stretches of all that wasn’t, for what was either a never or forever. Reality itself began to fray at the edges of their intense lovemaking, but that didn’t matter; not only was it safe under their divine rule, but any damage that did occur could easily be rolled back and fixed with the snap of a finger. It took them a while before they were done, exhausting every possibility in every timeline at least twice before finally pushing one another away to catch their breath, if that was even a thing they could do anymore. Mostly they just floated there, in their throne of non-existence, waiting for their stamina to recover while looking at one another with a mixture of animalistic lust and deepest love; they would have to go through multiple cycles like these before anything else popped into their heads, for it took that long for them to achieve something Clara had thought impossible: getting tired. Not tired of it all, of course, but simply exhausted from the physical exertion. It seemed that even gods of their caliber had their limits, and they had so eagerly tried to find theirs that, astonishingly, they succeeded. It was a genuine surprise to the both of them, doubly so after the words “not now” were uttered for the first time in almost literally forever, leaving the Arcanine couple unsure of what to do next. Their sexual congress had at least given Brad plenty of time to get accustomed to his new godly status, which he then used to look for a distraction to focus on during his newly-rediscovered refractory period. It was then that he realized something, something that he felt was very important and he probably should’ve noticed before: they weren’t alone. A third signature, much like theirs, was making its way “up” to their dimensional level, barreling through several million layers of reality like one would take a single step. He didn’t recognize it, but he did know that it was as powerful, if not more so, than himself, almost as much as Clara was! The smug grin on the latter’s face let him know that this was either planned for or entirely unsurprising… and left him wondering if he had truly been the first person that his partner had dedicated her life to. One can imagine his surprise when, out of the blue, everything was occupied all at once by glistening bulk; he could’ve accepted breastflesh, maybe even an enormous ass, but Rattata muscle, for that’s what was pressing against all of him, was the last thing on his list. He couldn’t even see Clara anymore, being buried somewhere in between an infinitesimal fraction of a pectoral muscle and the one right next to it, the sounds of a googolplex of trees creaking in the wind filling his ears and threatening to burst his head from the inside. It was almost impossible to endure, which is why he was extremely thankful that it toned down just long enough for him to start growing himself out, hoping to at least see who that was. By the time his form tuned into enough dimensions for him to be able to understand what he was looking at, the other Arcanine was already having a giggly discussion with the newcomer, who was apparently enough of a friend that introductions weren’t required. In the back of his mind, thanks to the mental link with Clara, he recognized bits and pieces of that colossus of musculature; he had ignored all the indications that his lover hadn’t made the initial journey on her own, but now that he had been smushed against that thing, it was a bit difficult to keep pretending. At least the Rattata was polite enough to apologize for “bumping” into them, excusing herself by pointing out she wasn’t expecting any guests. “You know, Clara had been talking about doing this for a while, but I never actually expected her to go through with it,” she said, voice barely audible from within the cavernous hole formed by her chest muscles and neckbulk, head safely kept at the bottom of it, “you wouldn’t believe how shy this girl was back home, I had to practically beat the compliments into her half the time or else she wouldn’t accept them!” “It wasn’t that bad…” Clara mumbled back, sounding entirely unsure of what she had just said. “And you wouldn’t even imagine how bad it was when we began our ascension,” Beth carried on, “I swear, I haven’t seen anyone deny themselves so much before. Sure, she started making gods and protectors after a while, but lemme tell ya, it still took way too long before this big lug just shut up and accepted she was such a cutie~” “Goodness gracious Beth, shut up!” the Arca-goddess snapped back, her face glowing a bright crimson and her paws flying over to cover it, bringing to mind images of a universe and life long gone, “Stop embarrassing me in front of Brad, come on!” “I wouldn’t say it’s embarrassing, but if you want to, I can take him off your hands while you pull yourself together!” “Wait what?!” Brad suddenly interjected, “W-what do you mean?” While the male Arcanine couldn’t see it, courtesy of the Rattata’s head being so far down the hole created by her neck growing over it, he was certain that the newcomer (for a certain value of the word) was giving him either sultry bedroom eyes or the smarmiest grin imaginable. That Clara didn’t immediately say no to the proposition didn’t leave him all that confident either, made worse when he noticed that her blush was growing more powerful rather than the other way around. He was about to ask if she was seriously considering the proposition when he felt some sort of force grip his entire body and hold it in place, right before the musclebound goddess exploded in size, their meta-world turned once again into a backdrop of rippling, sweat-covered flesh and practically disproportionate, bulbous, bulging growth as Beth demonstrated what she was capable of. The sensations weren’t so much filtered down into Brad’s mind as they were poured in, his cup running over with everything, just… everything, eyes glazing over and his body reacting accordingly. It was no longer in his hands, not after being shown the power hiding within that Rattata; it wasn’t so much a case of wanting or needing to be that big, but a simple matter of a universal truth having to be made manifest. There was no competition there as much as the pieces falling into place: Beth was that large, but she was always just Clara’s companion, someone who came along as a friend and had no real intention of surpassing or even matching her in power. That display of explosive, all-encompassing growth was no more than a way for Beth to tell Brad what he had to do, as they were both perfectly aware that the Arca-goddess’ “body” next to them was just a shadow of what it could truly be. And, to a certain point, it was up to him, as Clara’s divine consort, to do what Beth not only didn’t want to do, but couldn’t: become as great as the female Arcanine, at least in scale. In an instant, a true instant, he exploded in size. Everything he had ever been before, every growth spurt and burst of size, was made null and insignificant compared to the one he underwent in that moment. Put all of his previous growth together, add it all up, multiply it upon itself and stack it on several layers of exponentials, and one might have a slight inkling of a fraction of the first decimal percentage point of a single length of fur on his body. Beth was no longer larger or smaller than he was; to be so would mean she was comparable… and she absolutely wasn’t, not even in her expanded state. With no limits to hold him back, with the knowledge and certainty that he was meant to do this, Brad kept going, making even his second ascension look like nothing by comparison. He could barely even sense Clara anymore, something that worried him just enough for him to slow down… which itself allowed Beth to immediately catch up with him and sink him into her bosom; quite literally, as somehow he had become small enough to fit in that warm valley without even realizing. “Fuck me, pretty boy, you really are a grower, aren’t you?” the Rattata boomed, voice perfectly audible even through the blockage presented by her bust, “I guess Clara was right in picking you; here I was thinking she was wasting her time, but goodness was she not~!” “OH MY GOD BETH STOP!” Clara bellowed, suddenly appearing next to them… and effortlessly returning the three to where they had started, “I’m going to have a heart attack if you keep going like this!” “Alright, then can I take your hunk for a spin, then?” “... you know what, fine, sure, go ahead,” the Arca-goddess rushed to answer, still trying to rub away the blush that had settled on her cheeks, “just… please be careful with things, okay? The last time you tried to do anything with that one guy it almost broke every law we had in place.” “Ok, sure, but that guy wasn’t Brad, now was he hun~?” “Don’t I get a say in this?!” Brad interrupted, growing out to match the other two for size. “I dunno Brad,” Beth chuckled, “do you?” Two words. Two words were all it took for him to doubt himself so much that he felt like an utter buffoon for even putting up any resistance. Why was he trying to put a stop to it? Clara was perfectly fine with it, he was only reticent because of Clara, and it was more than obvious that the Rattata was very interested in exploring their limits together. Not to mention, Beth had helped him achieve true perfection (of a sort) and was one hell of an amazon to boot, far beyond even the most exaggerated of forms Clara had ever taken before. Perhaps this is why she was fine with playing second fiddle to her friend; the mouse already had everything she could ever want and free rein to play around with the entire collection of universes in her own way, so why bother competing for a meaningless first prize? Brad had to admit, that in itself was extremely attractive, far more than he would’ve expected. There was something refreshing and engaging about someone who was that much at peace with themselves, which was certainly helped by the way her body looked too; in a way, it was a perfect representation of what Beth was like inside, sculpted externally to the finest degree of excellence. She didn’t care about what anyone else thought; her dream body was one that was composed of more muscle mass than anything else, so that’s exactly what she made for herself. Heavens, Brad could already feel himself becoming a grower in another away already! In fact, the first thing to touch the Rattata wasn’t the hand he outstretched towards her, but another member entirely, having grown rock-solid enough to physically push him away… again, assuming spatial dimensions as a concept even worked wherever it was they “existed”. Beth seemed to enjoy it at least, so much so that she allowed some of her own energy to seep into that growing pillar, letting it to break through limits never before imaginable; poor Brad could only float there and watch as his body underwent some sort of runaway growth spurt, with all three deities present being dwarfed by a cock and pair of balls that began to melt into the background tapestry of existence. Clara was roused from her downward spiral of embarrassment when she felt that package poke her in the tail, finding it both incredibly surprising that anything could expand to that level and astoundingly arousing that something like that happened at all. Then again, she did give her friend the right of way, and so stepped aside to let the Rattata do what had to be done. This was, of course, to wrap her arms around that pillar of cockmeat and start pumping it as hard as she could, immediately drawing so much of the Arca-god’s juices that reality was lucky it wasn’t in the way; if that jet had been launched anywhere near the collective layers of law that made up existence, then the tiny, fragile bubble of all that was wouldn’t even have been pierced as much as it would’ve drowned in a deluge of cum so powerful as to make information collapse in on itself. To a certain degree, it was even self-cleaning; no longer attached to the body from where it came from, it lacked the ability to keep itself together, vanishing into the aether as its impossible properties were quickly corrected by whatever passed for physical laws around those parts. Perhaps the best aspect of it all was that it wasn’t even a proper release; if anything, when put into perspective with the sheer size of Brad’s tool, it barely even counted as bubbling off the tip, with the total mass being so diminutive compared to what his orbs held that those cum factories actually bloated in the process of letting “loose” like that. One could only imagine what it would be like for Brad to experience a proper climax… which is precisely why Beth began working overtime to make sure she found out. To her, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. The Arcanine was there, her other, more precious Arca-floof had given her permission, so now she was going to have some fun with that new, fluffy toy of hers, a toy that seemed just as eager to play back as the Rattata was in egging him on. After so long without a proper cock to wrangle, Beth had begun to wonder if she hadn’t lost her touch somehow; seeing Brad go off like that at least assuaged her fears… and gave her plenty of reasons to keep going with renewed strength, at least until that hunk of a fire pupper gave her what she was looking for. There was something missing though, something… something special, something the musclebound goddess knew she once adored, but couldn’t quite put her finger on anymore. It was like a distant memory, fuzzy from how long she and Clara had been in that deific state, a hazy remembrance of an earthly pleasure she once indulged in. Beth was certain that both her and her friend had engaged in it during their ascension at some point, back when the Arca-goddess still indulged in creating avatars for herself in order to appreciate the more simple pleasures of a mortal life. Even as someone who entertained herself making multiversal clusters just for fun, the Rattata couldn’t put to words what she knew she needed… at least not until the absence of it triggered some sort of automatic, instinctual reaction within her: she was holding onto a massive rod, a colossal cock of unimaginable proportions, stroking it with all of her (very considerable) might… and yet there was nothing showering her. No juices, no fluids, no cum was barreling into her and leaving her body a glazed mess of spunk, or at least nothing that she could see! It was this singular moment of brilliant insight that gave her the horrible idea of expanding her body yet again, despite knowing that all three of them were already straining everything as it was. There were a lot of calculations that had to be made, none of which actually were when Beth loosened her inner power and proceeded to utterly ravage the fabric of existence even more than it already was as she approached the size of Clara’s tail. Her friend had told her, countless aeons ago, that this was the ultimate limit, and at no point should she attempt to go past it; the background of reality had been turned into her fluff (or rather, her fluff had become the very backdrop of existence), and as such trying to break it would be a “very bad thing”. Unfortunately for all of them, Brad had decided to poke that floof with his shaft, which necessitated a mouth at least big enough to wrap itself around a pillar of manhood of such girth; Brad certainly seemed to think so, judging from how heavily he was shaking and how his moans were carried in all directions towards that fluffy barrier, interspaced with a few cries for more and a very confused man wondering whether he should call for his true love, or the Rattata servicing his cosmic-sized package at that very moment. He seemed to settle for the latter after Clara let him know it was ok, and at that moment Beth knew she had definitively won, at least for the foreseeable future. With that cock’s tip right there for the taking, it didn’t even matter of Brad grew out to match its size; all the Rattata had to do was angle it so that the cum protruding from it would be funnelled into the cavern created by her neckbulk, and as long as those delicious juices weren’t forced to fly around the nothing for more time than it was necessary, then Beth could stabilize them for long enough to gorge herself on their delicious protein content. The results were as arousing as they were patently ridiculous; with her head stuck down a pit of almost unthinkable depth, it took quite a while before any of that flood of cum reached her, at which point so much had been funnelled down that it could conceivably never stop. All that Beth had to do was keep Brad in the same kind of lock as she had been and the Arca-god could just keep producing forever, giving her all the power she could desire and more… if Beth hadn’t made a promise to Clara. As intoxicating as the experience was, the Rattata did tell her friend that she wouldn’t go completely crazy; and besides, the bigger she got the harder it became to shrink back down in order to exist in lower dimensional levels. So as delectable and alluring as filling everything sounded, Beth had to lower her expectations a bit. And just mostly fill things. From where she “stood”, the mouse could see all the way to the other side of what constituted their reality, uncountable googolplex-parsecs away. If, she thought to herself, she could fill herself on Brad’s cum, it wasn’t at all inconceivable that she could make it all the way there. In fact, given how damn powerful that thing was, it was outright likely! The first gulp came with such an immense boost in power that even the Rattata had trouble putting it into perspective; she was already made up mostly of rippling muscle sculpted to maximize both its efficiency and presentability, so for each of her biceps to suddenly bulge out so hard that the rest of her body might as well be an atom in comparison was… surprising. At least the second and third gulps let her bring the rest of herself to the same scale, after which she felt something pressing against her back, something fluffy and warm and so inviting she almost felt like going to sleep right there and then: Clara’s tail. It seemed impossible, but there it was: Beth had grown so much that she had reached the proverbial edge of their megaverse, and thus could go no further… backwards. There was still plenty of room in front of her, and thus the rest of her all-natural protein shake was focused completely on blowing her up with raw mass in the one direction she was allowed to go! This of course left Brad in the rather awkward spot of being smushed against his own dick after it was pushed forwards by the Rattata’s bulk, not really aware of what in blazes was going on and trying desperately to make some sense out of it. Between the sudden, multiple bouts of explosive growth, the existence of a third deity, heck, just the fact they were gods in the first place, his poor brain was so tired of trying to explain things that it was about ready to give up completely… unfortunately, this meant that something else had to take over, and in the absence of anything more rational or logical, the only thing left was, of course, his instincts. This turned out to be a particularly poor idea for everyone involved, seeing as Brad’s subconscious really couldn’t care less about rules or limitations and was far, far more interested in tapping into the endless supplies of divine energy lying everywhere around them. The Arca-god understood something the Rattata didn’t, or perhaps chose not to: the tail was not the limit. Or rather, it wasn’t a real one, not like whatever lay beyond; Clara had only imposed it because she knew that anyone trying to go past that level of power would inevitably go a bit crazy with it, and was merely waiting for an opportunity to expand it. This much he didn’t know, as he wasn’t given the information, but considering the type of self-indulgent madwoman that his Clara was, he wouldn’t put it past her to have gone through all that trouble just so she could enjoy breaking through another limit, purely for the sake of it. So his body pushed itself, knowing that it still had most of itself to give. Beth wanted a hefty dose of cum to gorge herself on? Then he’d just give it freely, it and so much more that the colossus of bulk would be stuck in an eternal cycle of bulging out and demanding more just so she could stabilize and equalize her size, all while he himself drew such vast quantities of energy from the process that a single pad on a single paw would be enough to completely smother the Rattata. He felt his head brush against Clara’s tail, the moment of panic that ensued being overtaken by his own bulk, which, while not as disproportionately engorged as Beth’s, still put hers to shame. Sure, the goddess might have made it so her body was so egregiously endowed that a single one of her pecs could contain uncountable amounts of her own head, but Brad’s size alone was enough to make even that comparison be meaningless. Anyone looking from the distance might see his regular bodybuilder physique be improved on itself, giving him far bigger muscles all over, but he was still person-shaped; just so unbelievably vast that even if Beth continued to grow at the rate she was and the Arca-god remained still, it would take the Rattata about as long to reach him as it would for multiversal bubble to grow big enough that any of them could see it: so long as to be utterly meaningless. At that point, saying that Beth was being drowned in cum wasn’t even an understatement. Considering the sheer difference in size between the two of them, the Rattata goddess could happily fly around for millenia in a single direction inside a single one of the Arcanine’s balls and wouldn’t even get a fraction of a percentage point closer to the other end. And yet he kept feeding her, kept making it so that her bulk expanded in ways she never thought possible, while he himself profited even more off the exchange: a package that continued to grow regardless of how little anyone stroked it, a bulk that grew denser and more defined while his form burgeoned outwards with renewed mass and volume, a fur coating so dense that he could feel it as it moved independently of him; waving his arm around left what was effectively a motion blur made out of the impossibly thick forest of his own fuzz, and Brad had to be careful not to bring his nose too close to it, as the musk was so powerful it could potentially overpower him if he wasn’t careful! It was around this time that Brad, the conscious Brad, returned to the scene, only to witness himself at a scale so vast and grand that he immediately went under again, allowing the animalistic beast within to resurface, eager for another go at his own growth. Without anything or anyone to stand in his way, the only thing that could ever stop him would be if Clara herself showed up and ordered him to… but she didn’t, so clearly that must mean he was destined for greater heights! He was stuck in that mode of thinking for what felt like several eternities, and would’ve remained there if not for something he truly never expected. Off in the distance, where once he only saw darkness after breaking through the shell of tailfloof, he began to notice something was off about the backdrop of reality. It wasn’t non-existent, or reflective, or absorbent; it was bright, warm, inviting… and fluffy too. It took several more jumps in size, at which point he was as big compared to Beth as Beth was to quantum foam, before he began to tune in and realize just what he was looking at: it was Clara. But not just any part of her: their tail, their true tail, the one that marked the final edge of existence. The one that, regardless of how hard he tried and how quickly he bulked up, he simply couldn’t reach; each gigagoogolplex he gained seemed to make it go further and further away, until finally… he saw her. The real Clara. Coming into vision, off in the distance, barely outlined against her own tail’s fluff. She was perfect, she was real, she was his to love. How could he ever have believed the one below him was the true Arca-goddess was beyond him; that, that… that glory that his eyes beheld, that was Clara. The love of his life, her eyes glinting with tears as big as he was, so happy to have finally found him. The mistress of all existence, mother to all that was and could be. They were finally going to be together. Forever.

She didn’t remember when she first awoke, but it had been so long ago that the eternal day in which she made her life felt just like that: eternal. There was no need for sleep, no need for rest, no need for eating, or drinking, or anything other than merely being, and as a result the timeline for her own life had grown so immensely tangled that even the Arcanine, in all of her might, could not make the slightest sense of it. Perhaps this was for the best, or even an intentional “feature” of sorts; despite her insistence that she was naught but someone who just happened to be slightly more lucky in the size department than most, there was no denying that her body was nothing like anyone else had ever seen, not only in terms of size, but in sheer number, scope, scale and just about everything that anyone could ever think of. The simple fact that billions of people made their lives upon it, studying its unique properties and working to contain it in order to spare both their home planet and instance of reality, was enough to get her to blush whenever she thought about it too much, and strained her mostly-sincere humility to the breaking point, without fail, every single time. Honestly, it was a wonder where exactly Sira found the willpower to feel like she was nothing special, given that her mere presence alone was often more than enough to bend and warp reality to such an extent that she altered everyone else’s timeline without even thinking about it, often rewriting whole histories and redefining the course of entire civilizations purely so they wouldn’t have to collapse like they had before; of course, some minor modifications were required to keep them from returning to their warmongering ways, but the Arcanine never really saw it as anything more than her giving helpful tips that her friends followed to the best of their ability. It was doubtful whether or not she was even aware of the full extent of her power, given that every time she noticed it actually doing anything at all, she nearly broke down in a shower of apologies and excuses while trying to put things back together the way they used to be, which normally resulted in speeding up the transformative process anyway. She couldn’t even remember any time in which she wasn’t the colossal, planet-obscuring thing that she so happened to be; as far as Sira was aware, she just woke up one day, all those years ago, and had always been so immense that the Earth couldn’t keep her, and thus she had to float around in orbit in an odd dual system whereby the planet next to her circled around her just as much as she circled around it. Even so, she struggled with herself on daily basis, refusing to believe that this was anything more than just a statistical outlier; after all, the tiny ones living on her and on the planet next to her were nearly all small-scale replicas of herself, with engorged, disproportionate curves, multiple sets of limbs that didn’t really serve a purpose other than to heighten their enjoyment of their own bodies, even a few example of people that had grown so big that they obscured entire geographical landmarks, and had to be tended to by their much smaller friends all around. When looked at from that perspective, the deific Arcanine could nearly always find it within herself to justify her existence as just being the result of a lucky sequence of genes that just happened to give her slightly bit more than her fellow furs, even if that belief made negative sense when examined under any objective lens. To call her anything remotely related to “ordinary” would be an offense to the word, and even her means of comparison were skewed by her merely existing. Even if everyone else around and on her were the way that they were via natural means, which they certainly were not, that still didn’t do anything to explain why she was so big that her supposed home planet was stuck in a mutual orbit with her, nor why her own body was so incomprehensibly and vastly different from every other that she had thousands of research stations built on her just to explore and attempt to explain small fractions of her being. It was hard to even begin describing what she looked like without having to resort to abstract metaphors; in general, her body structure could be called tauric, though rather than having an equine lower half with a humanoid upper body, what she had was a regular torso leading down to a slightly misshapen hunk of flesh that split off in two directions, creating two distinct tauric undercarriages that were nonetheless usually kept smushed up against one another so that half of their many pairs of legs could intertwine in an eternal dance that kept Sira herself in a state of perpetual arousal. Her pawbs alone were so utterly colossal that they could serve as a bed for her whole body if she were ever to find a flat surface that was big enough, and still have plenty of room left on them; together with increased sensitivity compared to what was “normal”, they made for a wonderful distraction from the other main source of pleasure that permeated their taur torsos, that being the dozens upon dozens of rows of milk-stuffed breasts lining then from front to back. These would be bad enough on their own, given how much rubbing and squishing had to happen with the amount of competition for empty room, but the arousal was made worse by the fact that, far off in the distance, right next to the final pair of legs and row of udders, Sira’s lower halves sported a wide array of cocks that all pointed in the same general direction: straight into the middle of her cleavages, ensuring that not only did she have her many tens of rods constantly stuck in between her even more numerous tits, but that both sets of assets were effectively locked in an endless vicious cycle from which she simply couldn’t escape, given her arms weren’t big enough to do anything about it… not even the ones on her tauric bodies, which were usually busy sinking their hands into the countless tons of breastflesh that poured out from beneath her, climbed up her flanks, and then covered her backs several times over. Her “main” body was no slouch either, somehow managing to pack into a much smaller area what her tauric halves did in far greater a scale. As a result, she hadn’t actually seen the sun in quite a while (in fact, the Arcanine hardly recalled a time in which she had seen the sun at all), locked away in a cocoon created by her own curves and supple flesh. Not that this really mattered, in all honesty, because she was quite happy; besides, having all of those tits and cocks so close to her allowed Sira to put her many tongues to good use, miles upon miles of her saliva-covered, surprisingly nimble appendages winding in between her many crevices and cleavages, leaving her constantly nice and clean without the need for an actual bath, given the uniquely regenerative properties of her sloppy kisses. The only “bad” thing about being stuck inside her own tits was that her many sets of horns occasionally poked at them in a way that was occasionally slightly uncomfortable, but that wasn’t anything a good filing couldn’t fix. All in all, the Arcanine was less of an Arcanine and more a colossal, blob-like mess of arms, legs, tits and dicks, constantly leaking nebulaes’ worth of milk and cum at every moment, stuck writhing in a spot in space from which she couldn’t move and had to make the best out of being there to begin with. She thus presented an incredible research opportunity for the many little ones around her, who, unlike Sira, did remember a time in which they had lived without the sight of her in the sky regardless of where on the planet they were… or at least they used to. It used to be that their kind had lived a very simple life, or at least as simple as any sentient civilization could hope. Civilizations rose and fell, history was written and erased depending on who won what war at any given time, and they were busy trying to fix the unfortunate consequences of pumping carbon dioxide into the atmosphere on an industrial scale for a couple of hundred years when, one day, she showed up. Sira hadn’t been quite as large back then, though still big enough to need to be pushed off into orbit by her many pawbs, yet her presence immediately began to warp the course of history by virtue of her simply being there, to the point where none remained that could remember what life was like before the giantess appeared past a certain point. In fact, no one believed that there had ever been a “before”; far as anyone knew, the Arca-goddess had always been a fixture of the night sky, along with the other tinier moon which struggled to deal with the gravitational pull of both bodies and occasionally flew off into space before being caught by one of the Arcanine’s arms. Every history book, even those written or recorded “before” her appearance, had been changed to reflect this, all the way down to the tiniest, most inconsequential clay tablet first engraved by some proto-civilization thousands of years prior; as a result, no one remembered that they used to be people-sized, having two arms, two legs, and sexual dimorphism as far as their individual species allowed. Now though? Now it’d be difficult to find someone who didn’t sport both sets of reproductive organs, fully functional, constantly growing, and capped off with every kind of asset one could imagine; “full” females or “full” males were a rarity to the point of simply not existing most of the time, and to find someone who only had one set of arms or legs was so difficult that they were usually sent to the nearest research center for study… where they would promptly begin developing a few extra limbs thanks to the unconscious influence of their goddess. Unbeknownst to her, Sira’s presence alone was enough to cause distortions that altered reality down to the finest level, and as much as she herself hated the notion that she was imposing anything upon anyone, it was impossible for her not to change things by simply existing around them for some length of time. Not only did her being alter the course of history so that dreadful wars and conflicts no longer took place, thus ensuring that the population of the planet hadn’t constantly been ravaged by conflict, but anything other than the most blissful of self-acceptance was forbidden; only friendship and jolly cooperation were allowed in her world, nothing less, and as a result the planet suffered quite a bit of a boost in terms of population. With most issues that had plagued their civilization solved after history was rewritten to ensure they wouldn’t be there to begin with, suddenly everyone was free to live long, happy and very productive lives in any way they saw fit, and with the adjustments to population loss, what had once been seven billion had rapidly approached thirty; not necessarily a problem, given advancements in vertical urban development, but there was only so much room available in an arcology before it started feeling cramped, so some people chose to start living on the Arca-goddess instead! These were the lucky ones, as they got to experience the greatest of changes in the shortest amount of time, sometimes so quickly that their minds almost noticed they were taking place before the effects on their bodies were normalized and they began to believe they had always been like that; no one even mentioned the fact that there were no real houses on Sira’s body, only her soft, occasionally milk-sodden fur, just as no one bothered to think about how exactly people were breathing when there was no oxygen in that vacuum. These were questions that were not worth discussing or talking about, much less actively answered so they’d ruin all the magic; the only thing that was worth knowing is that living on the Arcanine was possible, and with the amount of curves she sported, it was a never-ending, blissful and heavenly experience that every day provided more for everyone to enjoy. Of course, this also meant that research opportunities were there for whoever wished to take them, given that the Arca-goddess herself actively encouraged her friends and chosen family to try and uncover as much about the secrets of her own biology as possible. She didn’t expect this to result in breakthroughs in such disparate fields as chemistry, advanced theoretical physics and even mathematics, but who was she to complain about progress? As far as things were headed in the right direction, she wasn’t about to complain about having ten or so new buildings crop up on some unexplored part of her every day or so, especially not when a few of them got very intimate with her more private areas, only adding to the continuous experience of climax that she was more or less stuck with; there were even a few installations inside of her breasts, immense floating compounds held together by gravitational technology that she couldn’t even begin to consider, let alone comprehend, installations that were entirely self-sufficient given that they could use her very calorie-heavy cream as both a form of nourishment and as a power supply! This was to say nothing of the transformations these researchers went through; thanks to the constant proximity to Sira’s body, as well as the fact that they were actively deciphering how said body worked in the most fundamental of levels, their own forms were quick to adapt and turn themselves into small copies of her, often to the point where they became willing test subjects themselves… whenever they didn’t simply grow so much that they had to be jettisoned from the research facilities and join the ever-growing number of individuals who chose to give up their old lives to live better, eternal ones orbiting their goddess. No need to sing praises unto her, no need for glorification, but all the perks of an angelic existence as their physical avatars became ever more perfect, ever more adapted to life as something better, ever larger and more multiple in ways that defied explanation and boggled the mind. Soon, there wouldn’t even be researchers at all; as much as Sira’s presence warped reality so much that she could almost raise the dead, she couldn’t just make life out of nowhere (not yet at least), making it only a matter of time until every soul on her, and every other on the planet next to her, had been turned into a more perfect and self-indulgent version of itself. Once it was, and once it did, what else was there for Sira to use so she could pretend like everything was normal and she was just a slightly bigger version of most people she met or knew? As flimsy as the illusion had been before, at least it had something to help prop it up in the form of all the smaller friends she had floating around and on her, but now that her very presence had warped billions upon billions of souls into becoming miniaturized versions of herself through sheer force of presence, what else was there for her to use as pretend evidence? She still had a few days in which her self-imposed delusion was kept up purely through momentum alone, but it became harder and harder to rationalize away the growing cloud of “angels” she had accrued for herself, of ascended little ones who were suddenly not so little. It was odd, because even though she couldn’t recall whether or not her existence ever had a starting point, the Arcanine was almost certain that her friends, even those who had become something greater, had never really turned into anything bigger than, say, a skyscraper before, and even those were quite rare. However, now that she looked around and really paid attention to the “little ones” orbiting her body, they were quite a big bigger than they used to be, a few even matching her home planet’s moon for sheer volume; it was only at this point, a few days after it had begun, that the Arca-goddess realized her own body had been undergoing a transformation of its own, one that she hadn’t been able to notice thanks to being stuck inside of her own curves… or perhaps chose not to pay attention to in order to spare her own psyche from the damage of recognizing its own divinity. She knew something was odd when the gravitational tug of the Earth next to her had begun to grow lighter and less powerful, but she figured it was nothing special, perhaps just a sort of anomaly that would sort itself out; however, as it continued to vanish into the aether, it became harder for Sira to ignore the fact that the bond wasn’t growing weaker so much as her own body had overcome it, turning the complex relationship between herself and her homeworld into a very one-sided one. Were she able to see outside of her own curves, Sira would’ve been able to notice that the planet she once shared an orbit with, once so beautiful and majestic, had been reduced to little more than an accoutrement on a single one of her nipples, so tiny and inconsequential that she didn’t even realize Mars had gone along with it, shattering into bits of molten rock when one of her paws accidentally smashed into it, while Venus on the other end had been reduced to a series of thick, gaseous clouds orbiting one of her breasts. With the Sun coming ever closer to her, or, to be more precise, with her looming ever more over her local star, Sira had a choice to make: either keep trying to convince herself that everything was fine, things were as they were supposed to be and this was all just part of some odd cosmic plan, or accept the simple fact that she wasn’t normal and what was happening was proof positive of it. Unsurprisingly, though an increasingly large part of her mind tried to steer her towards accepting the latter, the Arca-goddess opted with the former, choosing to insist on a blatant lie for the sake of holding onto the simple “truth” that she was nothing more than a particularly well-endowed hyper in a world filled with people of similar, if far smaller sizes (for all the sense that made). Even when the solar system began growing cramped and the heat of the Sun briefly flared against one of her flanks before being consumed by the literal planet-sized tufts of fur that she sported, Sira held on to this blatant falsehood for the sake of her own sanity, believing in her heart of hearts that if she were to let go of her certainties and accept that something might be wrong, she would lose control completely... and probably end up hurting some of the souls around her, even when these lucky folk were already big enough that each one easily outsized their old planet, their cries of joy and carnal ecstasy serving as a symphony for the Arcanine’s ascension, to the point where even she had to blush at how lewd the whole exercise was. And still she insisted on ignoring it, still she insisted on the unfounded belief that maybe all of this was just a second puberty of sorts, even when she felt her tauric bodies (and accompanying cocks) grow longer in order to accommodate for extra rows of breasts, even as she heard them gurgle and bloat, nearly tripling in size despite being in full flow with entire nebulae’s worth of milk being jettisoned from each teat every other size, even when the shell of comets and icy rocks surrounding her home system was shattered from within, leaving her free to take over interstellar space with nothing even remotely capable of stopping her. It was at this point that Sira allowed herself to perform some minor introspection, if only because things were quickly spiralling out of her control and even her ridiculously durable stubbornness wasn’t enough to keep the realization of it at bay; as much as she would’ve liked to carry on pretending that everything was fine, going from planet-sized to having stars be too small be to noticed next to her nipples over the course of a few days was just too much for even her sturdy mind to handle, and it required some degree of adaptation. ‘Twas here that the Arca-goddess stopped to think if her base assumptions were correct, because surely, if she was just another hyper like any other, then why exactly was it that she was the first and only one to explode into a size like that? With billions upon billions of opportunities for this to happen, it had to be her, the one person who never slept, didn’t need to breathe, drink or eat anything, and couldn’t even remember if she had a birth or had simply popped into existence one day. Honestly, once she gave it a second’s thought, none of it really made any sense, to the point where Sira had to flinch and pinch herself multiple times just to make sure she wasn’t living in some kind of extremely complex lucid dream… then do so a few more times just to be sure, whimpering all the while when she didn’t wake up and find herself back next to Earth. Instead, all around her Sira could feel the universe becoming oddly smaller, or perhaps it was her who kept getting larger at an ever-escalating rate, until the galaxy she once called a home barely even registered as a blip on the radar; the Arcanine had expected the black hole in the center of it to at least tickle or something, but instead all she got was a slight speed bump on her express lane to the edge of cosmos, beating out the speed of light by such an insane degree that she couldn’t help but feel like she was doing something intensely… right. Not wrong, like her mind told her she should feel, but something more, something… correct. Her cheeks lit up at the thought the moment her mind processed what it was itself feeling in that very instant, when it came to terms with the fact that, far from being fearful of the consequences or dreading the effects of what her unbound ascension would have on reality itself, it was enjoying itself. The Arcanine tried her level best to ignore this, to file it away as an anomalous thought, but its mere presence was enough to allow it to metastasize and spread across the rest of her psyche, to infect her with the notion that, rather than horror and terror, what she was experiencing was joy and ecstasy, that everything that had happened and was happening was not something to regret or be afraid of, but to look forward to and glorify. It was odd, given that she was never really religious, but… was she? Had she been? Or was it, perhaps, that rather than her being the one to pay lip service to some unknown, unknowable deity, she was the one to whom worship was owed? That couldn’t be it, that would mean she was something more than just a regular person with irregular hormone development, but what else could be the truth now that her body was approaching the size and power of the dark matter structures holding the cosmos together? What other explanation was there for the sudden burst in size, for the massive increase in power and unending multiplication of assets that ensured that each and every inch of existence itself was occupied, in some way or another, by her soft, warm, heavenly body? It was even worse once she considered the possibility that, given her cosmic proportions, she might be doing to other civilizations what she did for her own; in fact, now the Arcanine doubted whether her home was hers to begin with or if she’d just parachuted into it one day and turned it upside-down and inside-out. Plus, there was something else poking at her from beyond the veil, a terrifyingly overwhelming force trying to worm its way into her head. It had been almost unnoticeable before, but the more she grew, the more Sira allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, her body and soul weren’t normal but something far greater than anything this existence could create, the more this “presence”, as she chose to interpret it, made itself known. It was vast and unfathomable, powerful beyond her ability to understand it, as if her entire bubble of reality was naught but a tiny droplet on the tip of its finger, with the body attached to it defying any logical explanation. It was a creature, or rather, a thing of such immense might that to try and quantify it would be an exercise in futility, even for someone as apparently mighty as herself. But, above all other things, this presence was familiar in a way that Sira didn’t know whether she liked or not; it was warm and cozy, like a night spent in front of a fireplace when no one else was around, the warm silence one enjoyed while surrounded by a thick coating of blankets and a warm mug of hot chocolate… or at least, what she assumed that would be like, given she didn’t recall ever going through that experience… had she? It was like looking in a distorted mirror, in a way, as if the person on the other side was a reflection of herself, but different in just the right ways to recognize that something was off; something like the fact that she herself wasn’t the one tapping the mirror from the real world in, but the pitiful, warped mirror-image trying to escape from within in a vain attempt at reuniting with the one true version of itself. She wasn’t being loomed over by a grand thing that cast a shadow on her and the entirety of her existence. She was the shadow. This sudden bout of understanding was enough to leave her floored, knocking all the wind from her sails so quickly that, for just a second, her growth actually halted completely, leaving the Arca-goddess stuck there in her cosmic egg for just long enough to appreciate the fact that she was, indeed, “gestating” into something greater. Suddenly, everything made sense: the lack of a life history, the unknowable past, the constant changes to reality that she insisted hadn’t been there but indeed had been taking place right in front of her noses all that time, the growth of all of her friends, the massive boost in size in both them and herself, even the overtaking of reality as she knew it for no discernible reason. Sira wasn’t becoming anything at all so much as she was returning home, going back to a state that had once been hers by right, but had been stripped from her for some unknowable reason. How could it be that she had been so blind, to think that she was anything less than deity by birthright? What had she been thinking, looking at herself and assuming that clearly she must be a regular person who just got lucky with the size lottery? It was absurd, almost farcical, and suddenly the Arcanine felt very glad that she allowed herself to broaden her horizons a bit more than usual, because this realization felt good; it felt right, just like before, it felt like knowing she’d been lost but suddenly been found once again, her home’s front door wide open for her to walk in and make herself comfortable after all the unnecessary labor she’d gone through to get there. Even better, there were people waiting for her inside, old friends that she’d forgotten about that now welcomed her back from wherever she’d been, looking to be… oddly worried for people that should be happy one of their own was coming back home. Sira could feel a certain amount of apprehension from them, like they didn’t know what to think about the fact that she was getting closer and closer; to a certain degree, the Arcanine could understand, given that her true self appeared to be quite a big bigger than the proverbial house they were all sitting in, even more so as this “house” became more and more real as she tuned into the level of reality that she was headed towards. In fact, the Arca-goddess couldn’t help but notice that the house itself was little more than a tiny speck on a tinier fraction of a small portion of a pore on the skin of her true self, and that her true home was not inside of it, but making up the entirety of its existence, several levels above her own. It didn’t really make a lot of sense to her from a logical standpoint, but it felt right, even when saw noticed all of her new godlike friends trying to push back and keep her from emerging from within her egg, attempting to delay the inevitable as she forced her way through to the real reality awaiting for her with open arms. Somewhere, in the distance, cracks were forming on the fabric of existence, tiny little lines that grew ever stronger and wider the longer she was allowed to remain as she was. Sira felt her instance of existence fraying at the edges, trembling beneath the might of her onslaught, and it was good. The cracks would shatter it all, and it was good. She would become so great as to dwarf herself at every moment, and it was good. And it would only get better.

After years of research and hard work, it was finally done. She didn’t think it was possible, and had very nearly given up on the endeavour multiple times before. Brick walls were hit, pitfalls were tripped into, many angry words were exchanged between sources of information that denied one another’s competency; a great number of things that could go wrong did, and yet the vixen never once actually took that final step required to abandon her quest completely. Even during her darkest hours, when no one wanted to stand with her and the whole world seemed bent on telling her she had no idea what she was doing, Nady somehow found the strength to carry on, hidden somewhere so deep inside of her that even she had no clue where it was coming from. Yes, there were pauses, long stretches of time where the research itself was halted and the vixen had to take a break from all the insanity; rather than lead her to drop the whole thing, however, these only served to convince her that she was right, and that she would find the solution she was looking for if she just kept looking. The search for the growth serum had long been one that hung over hypers’ heads the world over. No one quite knew what it was that made them what they were; genetic mapping never quite managed to find the “hyper gene,” as it was usually called, and every attempt at replicating the effects of their biology in other, normal-sized individuals inevitably ended in failure or, at best, temporary success. It seemed that, no matter what anyone did, it was random chance that determined who got given the prize of size… at least until Nady came along. Having spent her college and university years delving into both genetic research and biology, she was utterly convinced that the secrets to what made a hyper a hyper had to be locked away somewhere inside of their DNA; and assuming this was true, then it was only a simple leap from there to sharing that knowledge with everyone alive through the use of genemodding and nanoscopic manipulation. It was a lofty goal, given that most of the technology required to make it work didn’t even exist when she began her research, but the vixen embarked on her journey regardless, knowing that something would eventually turn up. And then it didn’t. For years. Disappointment after disappointment followed disaster after disaster, with funding pulled and given back again after semi-promising results, several changes in venue when her parent institutions refused to continue investing into her project, and a seemingly endless parade of naysayers who were more than happy to drag her name through the mud for the sake of throwing her off the scent. Their attitude, their complete conviction in the impossibility of her task, was what fueled her desire to get to the bottom of it most of all; were they not scientists? Were they not people of logic and invention? Where was their curiosity, their bottomless drive to discover the secrets of the universe, that spark that led them to unwind and unravel reality itself so that they could poke at its buttons and see how it reacted? It drove her mad that so many of her peers would simply throw her field of work into the rubbish bin and proclaim that they “needed more time” to “develop better technologies” rather than delving headfirst into it and worrying about their constraints later. Her own approach was arguably just as irrational, but she didn’t care; she had a goal and wouldn’t rest until she accomplished it. And now, several years after she began, it was finally there. The past few months had been filled with countless breakthroughs, every piece in the proverbial puzzle falling into place after the discovery of an hitherto-unknown genetic sequence that showed up in every single hyper subject she got her hands on. The vixen was initially reluctant to accept it, but as the test results kept pouring in and that sequence of chemical bases kept showing up, she had to admit that it couldn’t just be coincidence. There was something there, something hiding in plain sight. They would have never found it because they were looking in all the wrong places; the sequence itself wasn’t continuous, being instead spread out across multiple sections of the helix, somehow able to have its disparate chunks interact with one another to affect the lucky person blessed with them. This could very well explain why there seemed to be no logical consistency between what hypers had grow out to absurd proportions, something that had also intrigued geneticists for decades. Nady had no clue where this discovery would lead her, but knew that it would inevitably propel her forward… so she kept going. Months, and now she held the answers in her hands, fresh out of the centrifuge. There were five ampoules, containing a concentrated, synthesized compound built on the same principles of the “hyper gene” she was planning on announcing to the world. The papers were drawn up, the sources written up to date to the latest formatting standard, and all that was left was mailing that stack over to a series of publications and then wait for the invitations to come pouring in. She knew her conclusions would draw plenty of scorn, but it would be impossible for even the most ardent of skeptics, as long as they remained scientific of mind, to doubt her methods; everything was performed with utmost rigour, and if anyone at all wished to replicate the results, all they had to do was follow the instructions. That wasn’t enough though, not in her mind. After so long being treated as some kind of pariah within the scientific community, Nady had no intention of simply throwing a bunch of words around in people’s faces in order to prove them wrong; that would certainly be a great part of it, and extremely fun now that she thought about it, by why stop there? She had unlocked the very secrets of the nature of hypers, enough that she could create new hypers if she so desired. Granted, most of that technology she was banking on was highly experimental and untested, at best, plus her supply of protein folders was anything but legal, but if it worked… … if it worked… The vixen had an idea, something she banked on in order to make the full reveal of her discovery be that much more impactful with both the scientific community and the populace at large. After all, what she was intending to do wasn’t just to completely revolutionize the fields of biology and genetics (that was mostly a nifty side bonus), but instead to both accomplish a lifelong goal and make herself obscenely rich in the process. It was a selfish motivation and she was fully aware of it, but made up for it by the decision to make it as affordable as possible; being the patent holder for a literal growth serum gave her plenty of leeway to decide on how to price it, with the only constraint being the actual production costs. Aside from that, there was no reason not to sell it to most everyone with some degree of expendable income; it was a social service, in her mind, to let anyone became as obscenely large as they wanted to if they ever so desired, a world in which anyone, literally anyone could become a hyper overnight. It had been a dream for her, having been terribly cursed with a body that refused to have fat settle anywhere; being a beanpole for her entire existence up until then made for a wonderful motivation when it came to modifying her size, and if it weren’t for that constant reminder, Nady doubted she’d have had the willpower to keep going for as long as she did. Now though? Now she had distilled the essence of the “hyper gene” into five separate compounds, each representing one way said gene could manifest in practice: increased productivity of body fluids, muscle mass, fat deposits in the breasts and rear, fat deposits in… erogenous areas, and finally general increase in overall height, build and proportions. Nady was certain that, with extra work, she’d be able to further distill these into even more refined and targeted synthetic boosters, but given the time she had sunk into the project, just those five were already enough to count as a victory. Because she had every intention of injecting herself with all of them; that was the point after all. Not only would her papers take mainstream publications by storm, her body as well would serve as the utmost, irrefutable piece of evidence that her research was not only real, but usable. It wasn’t just a fluke, it wasn’t a genetic happenstance or a freak mutation, it was her hard work, dedication and understanding of genetic engineering that would make her into a statuesque, imposing amazon. At least, that was the plan. The specifics would probably be slightly different, seeing as this was the first time she was testing those compounds at all, but assuming her math wasn’t entirely wrong, then she was perfectly safe in injecting those things into her without having to worry about breaking through the roof. She grabbed an autoinjector from one of the shelves, a design of her own, and fixed the ampoule in her hand onto the back. The tiny prick was a good enough payment for what was certainly going to be a lifetime of unbridled pleasure, the vixen barely even feeling it as she reached for another one. The five extracts were all quickly pumped into her bloodstream, a line of small, barely-bleeding spots on her arm arranged in a neat line, the marks of ascension, the marks of a brand new Nady that would show the world her genius. Immediately she could feel the effects beginning to take hold, far faster than the vixen could have ever hoped for. It was like having air injected into her, the pressure becoming unbearably high, as if her insides were trying to escape in every direction but inwards. She doubled over, one hand hanging onto a counter just to stop herself from collapsing onto the floor. Breathing became difficult, labored, Nady gasping for breath and yet barely feeling any oxygen in her lungs. She was tunnel-visioning, the world in front of her narrowing until all she saw was the dull grey of the floor tiles, until all sound left her, until all sensation began to abandon her… until a large crack and the unmistakable noise of wood smashing interrupted it and she careened onto the ground, hitting her head on it and somehow ending up more awake than ever! Startled, Nady looked to the side, only to yelp in shock when she saw what she had on her hand: a large piece of plywood, clearly ripped from some larger structure, a small cloud of sawdust floating in front of her. Looking up, it was clear she had managed to remove that chunk off the counter… but how? They weren’t nearly heavy enough for their body to do that level of damage… unless it wasn’t their weight! Frantically, Nady pulled back on their labcoat’s sleeve, and what she saw left her confused as to how she should react. More shock would be appropriate, as would be unbridled panic, but mostly what the vixen wanted to do was shout with unmitigated joy. Her arm, previously a limp noodle that could barely hold onto more than two grocery bags, was now bulging with lean, tight muscles, perfectly defined and glistening with what she could only hope was sweat, glinting underneath the artificial lights of her laboratory. The longer she stared at it the more her musculature continued to grow, rock-hard sinew building on itself until the fabric containing it began to tear. Her other arm was quickly following suit, and judging from how tight her clothes were feeling all over, Nady could only assume that the same process was expanding to affect the rest of her torso as well. She could hear it, her body groaning and rumbling as mass multiplied upon itself, more and more vixen being fabricated from seemingly nowhere as her hidden potential was finally unlocked. It took barely a minute before she heard the first rips, and from there it was just a few more seconds until her labcoat and shirt were completely destroyed, rendering her completely nude from the waist up… and revealing something new entirely in the process! While her body was significantly more ripped than before, that hadn’t been the only thing that had been improved. Her breasts, too, had begun to rise and expand outwards, filling up and taking more and more space on her torso, kept from weighing down on her thanks to the increased muscle power on her back. They were already well past the halfway point on the alphabet and were still growing at an alarming rate, enough that when she brought her hands to them (incidentally being able to tell just how tiny they were compared to the bulbous masses of raw organic power that were her arms), she could feel her breastflesh pouring through between her fingers, her tits’ weight evident. What’s more, they weren’t empty; the increased productivity she’d gifted herself had made her body eager to start making vixen milk, something she had never had the opportunity to experience in her life. It was… odd. Pleasurable, yes, but a sensation she had no way of describing, not having anything else to compare it to. It was a warmth, a fullness, something that made her feel both powerful and oddly comfortable, like it was just a perfectly normal thing to happen. Perhaps it was her motherly instincts kicking in, or maybe she just really liked the notion of leaking her cream all over the place; whatever the case may be, her nipples were growing ever larger and more engorged, beads of white appearing on them before turning into a trickle, and from there into a small stream of thick, sugary, sweet-smelling milk. Wouldn’t take long for all the fur on her front to be stained by it, and for the breast growth to be compounded by the impossible amounts of cream being produced inside of it, practically doubling the rate at which her breasts were inflating. Down below, her ass was certainly not going to wait and let her bosom take the spotlight, though it mostly seemed to take from the muscle mass enhancer than the fatty one. Both her cheeks were pudgy enough that she could sink her hands into them, sure, but everything around them was just as hard as her abs or arms were, and the moment Nady traced her curves down to her legs, it suddenly became a lot more difficult to focus. Really, the vixen never expected to be that infatuated by her own body, but her hips and thighs were proving her wrong! She could stand there and grope herself for hours and yet still feel the need to keep going, no amount of her body being enough for her, even as her fingers failed to get any headway in grabbing her tightening skin and the muscle mass beneath; all of her was becoming an edifice of perfection, knocking over precious materials like they were nothing as she took up the previous little room left inside of her lab. For a brief moment, Nady feared that she might do something stupid and end up jeopardizing her research, only to thank her lucky stars for remembering to keep hard copies on backup back home; any damage done to her equipment would need to be paid out of pocket still, so it was best not to move around too much regardless. And yet, it was very difficult not to. The longer she looked at herself, the less restraint the vixen seemed to have over whatever it was she did. It was far easier to avoid bumping into things when she was smaller, that much was a given, but even with increased body mass it shouldn’t be that hard to keep from turning everything on its head purely from moving around. It was almost as if she couldn’t help it, like some unseen force was directing her to put her body to the test, to see how it fared in a world designed for people of far less stature than herself. But why though, was the question; Nady had never really felt the need to show off, and even her desire to grow out like a hyper was mostly fueled by her need to prove everyone wrong about what they said of her research and its feasibility… or at least that’s what she’d been telling herself for all those years. Now that she had what she wanted, the vixen was becoming slightly confused as to what her motivation was supposed to be, especially considering her growth spurt still wasn’t over, far exceeding even her most optimistic projections; almost eight feet tall and with her head quickly approaching the ceiling, her height was matched only by the broadness of her shoulders, with the rest of her body following suit in the size department, Nady felt more powerful than she ever had in her whole life. Simply looking down was enough to make her weak at the knees, given the kind of bust she had given herself; it was the sort of thing reserved purely for the largest and fullest of hypers, a pair of breasts that hung low, close to her waist, and yet were so packed with vixen milk that they kept a near-perfectly spherical shape, their swollen nipples capping large, black areolae that contrasted immensely with the white and green of her fur. It was only then that Nady noticed the amount of milk pouring out of her, and pouring was very much the best word to describe it. The flow wasn’t simply trickling down the side of her breasts and dripping onto the ground so much as it felt like two fire hydrants on low-pressure; not enough that she had issues keeping her balance, but certainly enough that the two jets being produced by her teats had a noticeable arch to them and ended up splattering all over the ground several feet in front of her. And yet, despite the clear sign that she was emptying out as quickly as her body allowed it, her breasts refused to become any smaller or anything less than immensely tight; any attempt on her end to sink her fingers into their plush flesh revealed nothing less than a hard surface that refused to yield even a fraction of an inch, betraying how utterly stuffed both mounds were, and making Nady wonder just where exactly she was getting the energy and calories required to fuel that level of production. Not that she had a lot of time to think about such conundrums, seeing as her body was already progressing to the next stage of her ascension. The vixen had planned for her booster shots to only bring her to a certain size and set of proportions, just the right amount that she could tower over anyone who might interview her about her discoveries. Nady had even bought a whole set of clothes precisely for such an occasion, keeping in mind what her body was supposed to look like after the gene splicers were done working on her; the idea was to evoke the imagery and aesthetic of hypers, but with… everything. Not just one blessed body part, but a blessed body, giving everyone out there who happened to be watching hope that they too could one day become as colossal as her. This of course had its limits, and the vixen made sure to account for them when producing her doses; the five shots were only supposed to bring her up to a certain point before the effects petered out, but it appeared that somewhere along the way, Nady might have accidentally carried a few too little ones and screwed up her calculations, because she wasn’t supposed to be growing that massive. Already her head was bumping against the ceiling and her hands were having trouble reaching the far end of her tits; not just because of the latter’s size, but also thanks to the colossal amount of bulk her arms were developing, leading to her range of motion becoming increasingly smaller as her biceps became incrementally larger. Moving around without smashing vital equipment to bits became an exercise in futility, and for the first time in what felt like years, Nady felt truly panicked about what was happening to her; was the transformation even going to stop? Or would she keep going until her body was an unrecognizable pile of muscle mass and breastflesh, drowning in her own milk after the neckbulk surrounding her head turned into a large pool, ready to be filled? And why did that idea sound so appealing? In fact, why was she moaning so loudly, things weren’t meant to be pleasurable; the transformation served a purely practical purpose, it was meant to establish that her research was both entirely serious and could yield practical results… so why did it feel so good? Above all, why did it feel so right? Like she was meant to be there, like she was always fated to become that massive and imposing. It wasn’t a transformation, but a revelation of sorts, simply showing to the world what had always been there, hidden in plain sight behind a flimsy disguise of weakness and fragility. That certainly sounded like her, even if it bore not even the slightest resemblance to what the vixen truly was… but who was counting? Who would even care by the end, when her body became something of true beauty, looming over the landscape like some sort of musclebound goddess? Who would even give a passing thought to the old Nady, who was so feeble and pathetic that she sometimes had issues picking up cardboard boxes of office supplies? That vixen was long gone now, buried deep within a body that was truly glorious, a work of art that she herself had sculpted through hard work, dedication and an impressively deep understanding of genetics. In fact, Nady’s awareness of her situation seemed to be growing at about the same rhythm as her body was, to the point where the vixen began to seriously wonder whether or not her pleasure receptors were shot; she still felt it, still had that screaming voice in her head letting her know that what she was going through was the absolute best thing she’d ever experienced in her life bar none, but there was a certain degree of… clarity. A self-awareness that Nady hadn’t felt before, a perfect understanding of what her body was, how it operated and how its internal processes functioned, down to the most minute detail, to the tiniest, most fundamental building blocks of her self. The bases. If anyone had told her just a couple of hours prior that she’d be modifying her genetic code on the fly through sheer force of will, Nady would’ve smacked them across the back of the head and then blow onto her hand after realizing the impact did more damage to her than the other person. Now though, it felt like a perfectly normal thing to do; she could feel it all, down to each individual helix, and seeing as this world was now hers by right, it was only natural she could demand her body obey her as well as everyone else ought to. Really, the building crumbling around her as the vixen’s head broke through the ceiling and the rest of her bulky frame exploded outwards with newfound size was just a formality; she was already aware that it was going to happen, so might as well get it done and over with before moving onto the real order of business. Seeing all the little ones scurrying around her as she tore through the large building her lab was in made the experience so much better than it already was that Nady couldn’t avoid it: one of her hands practically flew to between her legs, only to find that her lower mound, too, had taken a cue from the rest of her and began to expand outwards, giving her an ample target to sink her hands into and pleasure herself with abandon. It was gushing almost as hard as her breasts were, making an absolute mess of everything beneath her just as her bust turned the parking lot into an outdoor pool. Screaming erupted from the crowd, a few still tumbling down her frame and onto the ground, hoping to get as far away as they could while it was still possible. This was nothing but a fool’s errand; the only reason the vixen wasn’t already the size she wanted to be was purely because she wanted to enjoy the ride there, rather than skip to the end. The sight of the ground itself cracking underneath her mounting weight gave her a level of strength Nady didn’t think was possible. It was fuel to her, to know that her body was heavy enough that the planet couldn’t take it anymore, that her bulk was approaching a level that bordered on the utterly unreasonable. She could barely move her arms anymore, the piles upon piles of tight musculature being simply too large for her to do so, only able to rub them against one another… inadvertently arousing her even further and leading to more bulking up on her part. It was now a cycle, though arguably not a vicious one given how much she was enjoying it, a cycle that made her ever larger, ever taller, ever wider, ever bigger, until the buildings around her, once so imposing, were now little more than toys for her to pick up and do with them as she pleased. Still, the vixen tried her best not to destroy too much property; there were still people in there, and they deserved to be given some time to try and escape from her ascension, even if it was ultimately pointless for them to try. They could run for a mile and Nady could grow three more, burying them underneath vixen muscle while still managing to flood every town in an ever greater radius. By then, there were already people beyond the horizon complaining about the oddly thick and creamy rain, the answers to their questions appearing a few seconds later as they saw the green goddess appearing out the corner of their eyes, right before she turned into the landscape, rather than simply dominating it. In truth, the vixen wanted to have dragged the transformation out for as long as she could, but the raw, unadulterated pleasure that came with turning into a giantess was simply too much for her to power through. Perhaps, if she had prepared better, her mind would be ready for that kind of assault; as it turned out, and despite her sincere belief that she was worthy of the title of goddess, it appeared that even someone as magnificent as her had their limits. Intellectual ability only went so far when one’s brain is assaulted from every direction by an insatiable desire to grow ever larger, and the vixen was most certainly being hit hard by that thought, every second of every minute she spent not being the biggest she could possibly be. Her DNA was torn apart and reconstituted at the molecular level, Nady’s brain ensuring that the hyper genes were both activated and made to manifest as much as they biologically could. This was no longer her stretching her limits, but finding them; theoretically, all she was doing was allowing the genetic sequences that created hypers to do what they were meant to do, so if what they did was turn her into a colossus of unimaginable proportions, then surely that was just something they were supposed to be doing to begin with. It’s just that, until then, no one had developed the technology or know-how required to truly exploit the gene’s potential like she had; therefore, it was only right that she alone stood atop the podium as the victor in that unseen contest. A victor that everyone would be able to see… or at least everyone in the hemisphere she was on, at least. Nady only barely noticed the top of her head breaking through multiple cloud layers before growing colder, the atmosphere no longer an issue for her after she changed her body so that it may rely entirely on sunlight (even if she had no clue how she did that); after a while, most of her wasn’t even confined to that thin layer of gas, instead being proudly on display for anyone on her half of the world to see if they bothered to look up. Geography was altered underneath her body, the planet just barely holding onto itself as her weight continued to increase, the streams of milk being jettisoned from her teats carrying enough velocity to escape into orbit, creating a ring of creamy white that grew thicker by the minute. Her claws dug deep trenches into the continents beneath her, earthquakes triggered whenever Nady adjusted her seat or happened to bring her hands down anywhere. Touching the ocean, even as gently as she could, was a recipe for disaster, creating tidal waves of proportions that still seemed incomprehensibly tiny compared to her. Nady wanted to lay back and “appreciate” herself, but knew that doing so would lead to the collapse of at least a couple of mountain ranges. Which was honestly more than enough to get her gushing downstairs again, She wasn’t complete yet; the planet was still bigger than her. However, this… transformation, this ascension? It was a good first step! Nady could lord over anyone around her if she so desired and, if need be, she could jettison herself into orbit. Really, growing even larger was itself a formality at that point, as her superiority was clearly achieved and amply demonstrated. But a formality that had to be done nonetheless.

Jake never quite fit in, at least with people. Too many plots, too many unsaid feelings, and too many pointless rules. Animals however, he always had a good connection with. Animals do not stab you in the back or follow stupid rules just because others do. Their only rule is survival, and if they don't like you, you will know immediately. It is because of this that he always imagined himself more of an animal trapped in human form. He created a fursona for himself in pictures and stories- a very well hung humanoid canine. You can imagine his surprise when he found out his friend Bernard had a way to make his imagined form a reality! Bernard held up the tall walking stick made of a solid bone. "I purchased it from a monk when I was travelling Europe. He called it the Shifter's Branch, it's supposedly from a dead God named Qorelle. I don't think you should be using it though..." "Come on man! I have always wanted this, this is my true form! And you can use it again to turn me back whether it turns out or not." "Theoretically, yes. The form you are trying for doesn't actually exist though, I have never seen one of these used to make an entirely new creature. I only really know what the monks demonstrated, everything else is just guesswork..." Bernard was good friends with both Jake and his girlfriend Pam, so he knew how much this was wanted...but also knew this was a powerful magic he might not be able to control. With great reluctance Bernard cast the spell at Jake. Jake felt it right away, the gentle prickling feeling on places he already had more body hair on as it started to turn into fur. His nails lengthened to claws, his teeth sharpened to fangs. He squirmed at the sensation as he pulled his pants down in the back and rubbed either side of his tailbone as his spine lengthened and fur grew rapidly on it as he grew a tail! His dick felt weird, like it was being pushed up against his body. It seemed to shorten but fatten tremendously as the quickly bulking foreskin transformed into a sheath. Jake let his pants slip down entirely and he felt his legs involuntarily stretch, shifting from human to humanoid canine, forcing him up onto the fronts of his feet as they puffed up into the pads of his new paws. When his dick emerged it was both completely different in shape and size. Very obviously canine, it was pink and veiny, fading to solid red at the tip where most the blood ends up. The urethra stuck out farthest at a rounded point on the tip, followed by a reservoir pit- almost making it the opposite of human glans, where the head is an outward bulb with the urethral opening being slightly depressed. He was average sized for a human, but Jake's dick was mega sized for either species now. His hand could not quite close his fingers around the girth anymore, and the length wasn't too much bigger, being about seven and a half inches long...it also wasn't all the way out however. Bernard was both watching, while trying not to see. He didn't sign up to watch Jake stroke his cock, but also needed to be on standby if something went wrong. Once Jake's face pushed out into a snout, it looked like his anthropomorphic canine form was done, so Bernard bailed, telling Jake he would be in the living room if something went wrong. Jake only grunted in reply, feeling his thick solid shaft up with one hand and slipping his other hand under his clothes to feel the rest of his body up. The clothing pushing in on his fur was irritating so he quickly took them all off. The plush pads of skin on the insides of his hands now felt great gripping his huge meaty dick. He could feel and even see his sheath bloating up tremendously with building pressure as he pleasured himself. Bigger and bigger, till his sheath couldn't contain anymore and his knot popped out, adding another inch and a half to his penis length! The knot was huge, like half a softball in size on either side of his shaft, and hard as stone! He started to masturbate the beast with both hands, barely noticing as he panted that his tongue was getting bigger and his face narrowed and lengthened past what his fursona's is. What Jake did notice right away was that his fingers shortened and plumped up as his hands went past the halfway point and became paws...which were not at all good at holding his needy meat pillar. Unable to masturbate and lacking the bodily flexibility to suck himself off, he quickly sought out Pam in the other room. His thrusts were quick but shallow, as he knew he needed to work his way into her slowly. Pam was down on all fours of course- doggy style. She had never taken a dick as thick as this that was also this long! It felt absolutely amazing. She really yelped in pleasure when he finally popped his knot into her! It was like a dildo mounted on a buttplug stuffed into her all at once! Now his thrusts had to be shallow simply because he couldn't pull back far, since the knot locked them in place. His thrusts were so quick her brain couldn't get a thought in between jolts of pleasure. Gasps and moans became yelps and panting. Her ears and face lengthened as her tongue outgrew her mouth. Her palms fattened into paw pads to grip the floor against his thrusts better. Her spine seemed to curl with her toes in pleasure as it extended into a tail that formed a perfect ring. Her ears doubled over themselves as golden brown fur overtook them. Her pussy turned purple from all the blood engorging her lips, till they inflated further and became the completely black triangular labia of a canine. Jake's hips popped loudly becoming deeper and more narrow, locking him in a quadruped position and his torso reshaped, making him a full dog! Pam realised this a bit too late, and in a panic tried to break off, but realised she was trapped on his knot! Her mind was going numb from pleasure! He was fucking her for so much longer than usual, and it was like his dick had achieved a perfect form- it fit perfectly, it felt heavenly, and even through her panic of being changed she couldn't will herself to resist it. If it meant more of this cock in her, maybe she wanted this. He slammed into her as far as he could and the knot throbbed violently several times as he came and her hips popped and she finished transforming into a dog as well! Bernard started looking for Jake and seen neither him not Pam as he wandered the house. He did see the fridge door open, and several torn packages of meat empty on the floor. In the bedroom the pillows were shredded to bits all over, and the sock drawer was half emptied onto the floor. When he left the bedroom, they sprung their trap! Pam came from under the bed behind him and Jake came out of the laundry closet in the hallway! Pam grabbed his pants with her teeth and yanked them down as he turned to see what was happening, and as soon as his back was to the hall Jake shoved him down with his front paws and quickly jumped up and mounted him! Before Bernard even knew what was happening his prostate was ringing with pleasure as the huge cock slid against it, taking up most of the room back there. His dick went to full mast from pleasure almost immediately even as he halfheartedly tried to struggle. The knot was too big, he wasn't going anywhere till Jake finished. Pam licked Bernard's face, numbing the sensation of it changing, pressing outward. She playfully nipped his ears and tugged as they lengthened. His penis throbbed painfully erect, throbbing with more and more pressure every time Jake thrust into him. The base started to swell and redden, then the entire thing thickened and reddened a bit, lengthening just enough to stretch its shape into a new one. Bernard stretched his limbs out as they began to reshape and Pam took the opening and slid herself under him, engulfing his cock in her long mouth, tracing its contours with her long tongue. Bombarded with pleasure from either side all Bernard could do was squirm and grunt in pleasure as his mind was blanked out by too much sensation! Jake finally reached his limit and came, causing Bernard to reach max pressure and his knot to inflate to full size as he came into Pam. Now Jake, Bernard, and Pam were completely canine and Bernard was not sure he could even still operate the staff in this state. He supposed he could just hold it in his mouth...it was essentially a big stick. His stick. The others better not play with his stick! What went wrong exactly though? Well it seemed he was right about it being hard to keep a middle ground with the transformation- every time Jake thought of a full dog, he turned a little more toward that. Bernard accidentally put way more power than was necessary to change one person, causing Jake to overflow into Pam, and then Jake and Pam to overflow into Bernard. Bernard wondered just how much overflow they still had? He was so...curious. He had to know before doing anything else with the staff or he would just repeat the mistake! He had to know because...he was too horny not to. He needed to overflow into another human! In the back of his mind Bernard wondered just how badly he screwed them all over. As far as Pam and Jake were concerned though, Bernard was a saint!

It wasn’t the most orthodox of methods, but if it worked, then it was bound to increase productivity by such a high degree that the mining station would most likely skyrocket to the top of the company’s extraction charts… which would no doubt result in an endless shower of perks, pay raises, and maybe even some amenities for the rec room that weren’t so old as to make it impossible to use them without incurring in irreparable damage. Now, truth be told, no one present on-site had actually told their parent company what their plan was, relying entirely on them being one of the most remote outposts in the entire corporate dominion to fly under the proverbial radar without anyone noticing; the last time an HR rep swung around had been so long ago that most of the workers present at the asteroid mining base didn’t even know they had an HR rep to begin with, a sad reality that came packaged with working in the depths of (mostly) uncharted space on the very edge of civilization. Paradoxically, they were also expected to be one of the most profitable operations despite being relatively recent and still heavily under development, owing to the immense mineral wealth of the asteroid thicket they were charted to exploit: almost ludicrous amounts of iron ores and precious minerals, at least according to initial surveys, just floating there, unclaimed and ready to be tapped by anyone who first purchased the mining rights, all for the low low price of having to send workers out for work shifts that lasted for an entire standard year, far away from civilization and with the closest contact point being a navigation buoy that sometimes refused to work for no discernible reason. The mining team was thus mostly isolated from the goings-on in the rest of the galaxy, and while that had fostered a sense of isolation that left most of them in a mindset that would require some active work to get rid of once they returned home, it also afforded a certain few opportunities that most other company operations simply didn’t have access to… opportunities such as using one of their crewmembers as an impromptu asteroid cracker. It was initially seen as nothing more than idiocy, an absurdity suggested by someone with more arousal than usable neurons, but as soon as everyone became fully acquainted with Baha and his “unique” condition, this supposedly insane idea became progressively more feasible on a near-daily basis; it used to be that none would even entertain it, and yet the entire crew eventually found themselves conspiring to keep their plans from being found out until such a time as they could prove their effectiveness. Granted, it was entirely out of the ordinary and so extreme as to warrant that level of skepticism; asteroids as big as the ones they were commissioned to mine usually required vast amounts of high-grade explosives in order to crack properly, an operation that, in itself, required weeks to months of preparation in order to open up the mineral lodes to exploration without completely destroying them in the process. Asteroid mining, despite the vast distances, enormous hauls and high-tech mining equipment involved, was an extremely delicate process if one actually wanted to extract as much wealth from each target rock as possible; using high-voltage laser grids to scour the surface of each asteroid to then collect the dust particles and further refine them was something that anyone could do, but it took a gentle touch, and decades of combined experience between everyone involved, to crack open one of those things in such a way as to get to the juicy goods within… or, at least, that’s what conventional wisdom dictated. For most of the crew present in the outpost, this had been their gospel for their entire career; they were universally veteran miners, sent to such a remote location on the assumption that their prior experience would allow them to do a better job than a bunch of rookies led by maybe a couple of good foremen, and as such they all knew how hard it was to get things done the proper way; this was primarily why none of them took the suggestion of using Baha seriously, at least until it became obvious that when their medical records said they were afflicted by “uncontrollable growth symptoms”, they were, at best, underselling just what the horse was capable of. No one wanted to believe that Baha, already built like a brickhouse and weighing about as much as one, could get even bigger… and indeed, he didn’t. His cock and balls though, those certainly enjoyed the odd growth spurt every other hour or so, making it surprisingly difficult to put him to work anywhere that required him to wear an EVA suit, owing to his innate ability to simply outgrow whatever he was wearing unless he was given the chance the vent copious amounts of spunk every few minutes or so. It made for a right mess of the outpost’s sanitary systems, which more often than not ended up clogged and required a group of techies to head outside and manually scrape what felt like dozens of gallons of cum from the vents and pipes; while this presented itself as a headache and a half at first, it eventually lent itself to the inevitable conclusion that maybe, if they just put those talents to good use, they could turn what had been a serious pain in the neck into something of a revolutionary breakthrough in mining technology and doctrine. Granted, it would take a serious refurbishment of one of their observation rooms, as well as the sacrifice of a handful of EVA suits for the sake of cannibalizing their constituent materials, but it was nothing that a request for supplies and well-crafted lie couldn’t fix; after all, it was expected that any mining operation would incur in losses in material, so an outpost built that far away from the nearest settlement requesting further assistance wasn’t entirely out of ordinary. What the company didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, or so everyone kept telling themselves as they worked on the “deployment room”, a large-scale renovation project whose existence was kept a secret purely because the supply ships refused to leave the relative safety of the hyperspace bubble around the navigation buoy, requiring the mining team to fetch their deliveries themselves; a perfect state of affairs as far as they were concerned, because trying to explain what they were building to a company employee not involved in the project would be… difficult, at best. Anyone not in the know would probably be unable to tell why exactly they were remodelling one of their observation domes such that it had to large half-spheres welded to the bottom, why exactly they were changing the connection to the rest of the facility so that it could be rotated, and why in blazes they had so many drainage pipes connected to something that wasn’t even supposed to have a water dispenser, let alone anything powerful enough to require emergency flooding countermeasures. And, to this hypothetical observer’s credit, they couldn’t possibly know what the mining team had in store for the asteroids they were supposed to be rigging with explosives, because it was so ridiculous, so off-the-wall in how it used available resources, that the moment it came to light (and it would), their entire careers would be worth naught in the five seconds or so they’d have before their contracts were promptly terminated. In the end though, this was part of the charm; it wasn’t worth doing if there wasn’t some risk to it! At least, that’s what everyone kept telling one another again and again, as they stoked the flames of Baha’s arousal to the point where it could be considered genuinely hazardous to everyone’s health and safety. The plan itself was actually quite simple: place the horse in the modified observation room, attach him to the assembly in such a way that his nuts would have plenty of room to bloat and grow into the additional room built underneath, then have his cock serve as a seal for the “firing port”, a literal hole cut into the side of the room that would serve as the means to deliver the “payload”, that being a shot of cum powerful enough to crack open the asteroid they were planning on testing the new method on. Baha was initially skeptical as to whether or not this would even work at all, given that he’d never had a release so explosive as to be capable of drilling straight through solid rock, but was quickly persuaded that, if he just held it in for a while, allowed his body to become so pent up that its internal pressure would skyrocket, then surely they would be able to witness an explosive finish unlike anything the horse had ever seen. Who knew what went through Baha’s mind when he just nodded along to the proposal and acted like it was the most sensible thing possible, when in reality all that the team was doing was creating a rotating weapons platform powered by spunk and sheer virility; of course, this in itself required the horse to be far bigger and more stuffed than he normally was, and as such, as soon as the observation room was properly sealed off and ready for habitation, Baha was directed to remain inside of it for the foreseeable future. The plan, or at least the closest thing the mining team had to a checklist, was deceptively simple: let their equine asteroid cracker slowly build up over time by denying him any release, and in the process have their already pants-stretching shaft grow in size in as well; once it was big enough that it could both fit inside the firing port and provide a perfect seal with its girth, then the final stage would begin, where several cockrings would be put in the place in the parts of their shaft that were exposed to space, their cumtanks further stimulated until the entire observation room began to creak as the metal plates were bent out of shape… and then, release. Really, on paper, it was the simple thing one could imagine, with the only real variable being how long it would take for the horse to fill up to the desired point, and that much could just as easily be manipulated by making good use of the surprising number of people who were more than happy to volunteer for “massage duty”. No one present in the outpost really stopped to consider the implications of what they were doing, nor the possibility that they may have been infected by some sort of mind-altering space fungus or something of the sort; perhaps it was the case with all asteroid miners, that their long periods of isolation lent themselves far too well to the development of eccentricities, and that getting all those idiosyncrasies in one place was bound to end in disaster at one point. Thus it was that Baha happily strode into the modified observation room, already dragging his nuts on the floor thanks to a couple of standard days’ worth of not relieving himself; his growth rate had frankly exceeded all expectations, to the point where the foremen in charge of the project began to wonder if they wouldn’t be able to crack open two rocks before the next outgoing supply shipment was scheduled. If that much were possible, then they were absolutely on the way to a promotion, them and just about everyone else… which obviously meant that Baha must be kept as close to arousal as possible, at all times, without a single moment of rest. Even when the horse was asleep, or as close to it as possible given the sort of sensations coursing through his entire nervous system, shifts must be organized to keep those bloating cum factories of his continuously filling, with a handful of eager volunteers stroking the shaft above in order to keep it nice and turgid. Surprisingly, the whole process only lasted for about a week or so, and even then everyone present knew they were cutting it close with just how much pressure was obviously building up inside Baha; the poor guy had gone from simply hung, to floor-dragging, to literally being unable to do anything other than sit on their chair and let their body do the rest of the work, covered in sweat, looking and feeling feverish, and utterly knocked out. He could barely even eat by the time his nuts began to truly fill up the two domes installed to hold them, needing others to help him chew his food before the cooks gave up and just blended everything into a slurry; not once did the horse actually try to stop anyone though, not even in the very brief moments of lucidity they still enjoyed on rare occasions. In fact, whenever anyone got any words out of him, they were always something to the tune of “bigger” or similar synonyms, which everyone involved in that insane plan chose to interpret as a blessing on Baha’s part… not that it really mattered much at that point. Whether or not the horse wanted things to go forward, he’d grown too much and become far too stuffed with backed-up releases; even if, by some miracle, everyone agreed on just putting an end to things before they had gone too far (as if they hadn’t already), there was still the matter of what they were supposed to do with a cock that was longer than most of their supply craft, and a pair of cumtanks holding more seed than their multiple water tanks could handle, and those ones were built to hold enough drink to last the team for an entire year, not counting recycling systems. Whether or not anyone liked it, the die were cast and their fate was decided for them, with there being no remaining option other than to just… go forward, keep walking, and hope to the heavens above that things would work out in the end. In the final hours before the “payload” was delivered, no one in the outpost spoke; the air was filled with the structural frame around them creaking and trembling as the vibrations coming from the observation room coursed through the one thing keeping the team insulated from the hostile vacuum. One false step, and everything would come crashing down onto them, with the pressure gradient being enough that the entire base would be sucked in like a crumpled can of soda; and sitting on his throne, looking positively miniscule compared to a pair of nuts that were easily big enough to fill up an entire dormitory each, hands firmly glued onto a cock that projected several feet in front of him, with several more jutting out of the firing port, was Baha. He was too far gone to care, too far gone to notice when the voices around him began speaking again, barking orders as the room he was in felt like it was moved from side to side; all the horse could think to do was buck his hips, but he was too heavy to do so. Release would come, he knew that much, but when would it? He had so many rings around his shaft that even if he went limp and allowed muscle memory to take over, it wouldn’t do anything, leading to some positively quaking twitches along the full length of his rod. He was going to blow, he knew that for certain… but when? The firing port was eventually aligned, the observation room vacated after the decoupling mechanisms were set up and the timer started. Within a single minute of the airlock closing behind the last one out, the cockrings around Baha’s base would open, releasing a well-aimed, pressurized jet of cum in the direction of a fault line identified in one of the asteroids the team was sent to crack. Whether or not it would work was still up for discussion, but at the end of the day, that was what they were there to test. Silence. The makeshift control room, created to remotely monitor the pressure being measured on the outside of the two cumtank holders, was where everyone had decided to take refuge, the safest place in the entire compound by virtue of being built into the minor asteroid the rest of the facility was constructed around; if nothing else, if everything went to shit and the worst case scenarios came to be, at least they could hold out in there… provided the solar panels weren’t taken out in the process of Baha cumsploding all over their nominal target. The best that anyone could do was hold their breaths and hope that every ounce of preparation had been enough, that they hadn’t screwed up the math at some point and that their equine coworker would not only be able to unleash a week’s worth of pent-up cum, but would do so in such a pressurized manner that it would outcompete traditional demolition methods. It was only then, when they finally activated the cameras and realized that Baha was being slowly pushed backwards by virtue of their rod becoming too thick for the firing port to handle, that the first seeds of doubt truly began to bloom; only then, when it was far too late for anyone to do anything about this impending disaster, did they actually stop to think that maybe they’d gone too far, and should probably step back. Of course, none of this would matter in the end; the cockrings were going to pop in about ten seconds, the pressure gauges had already gone off the scale, and the assembled mining team could all hear the rumbling emanating from the other side of the compound, with a few swearing up and down that they could make out Baha’s moans mixed in with the cacophony, despite how impossible this was. One thing everyone could agree on, however, was that they could all tell when the timer on the cockrings’ decoupling mechanism ran its course, because what followed was less a torrent and far more of a roar, like some great, unfathomable beast had just been awakened from its slumber and the first thing it thought to do was devastate its surroundings. The very air itself seemed to quiver and tremble before its might, the metal plates making up the majority of facility rattling like they were made out of cheap tin, even the sparingly few windows showing signs of cracking, though thankfully not so much that it breached through the multiple layers of reinforced glass. For the team huddled in the makeshift control bunker, things might’ve been slightly better had they not completely lost contact with the observation room that Baha was in; they were completely blind. Granted, would that they were capable of seeing into the horse’s personal paradise, it was likely that they’d be too distracted with what actually happened to really get any useful information out of the video feed; Baha himself made sure to overload the audio sensors when he opened his mouth and let loose every last ounce of pent-up pleasure that he hadn’t had the chance of getting rid of in a week, so loudly in fact that it didn’t stop because it ended, it petered out because the poor guy’s throat gave out and he was reduced to whimpering… though he didn’t exactly stop, such were the sensations he was experiencing that he simply had to keep going, had to tell the world what he was feeling at that moment, that it may be imprinted upon the very fabric of reality. The horse dared not look down, because he knew that whatever was happening would be so irresistible that he’d end up doing something stupid, like trying to pull back his cock in order to hug it so that the cum blast would splash all over him; the firing port didn’t need this extra bit of strain, considering it was already having trouble dealing with what the horse could provide on his own, absent any conscious input. With the cockrings no longer holding back the tide, it didn’t take more than a second or two for the base of Baha’s shaft to bulge out to a good one and a half times its size just to deal with the sudden deluge of spunk that had been released; contrary to how he had experienced it multiple times before, however, this bulge didn’t just go away when the cum spurt made its way down his shaft, though to be fair, he’d never allowed himself to bloat up that much before. Rather, it looked as if the mass being pumped up from his two cumtanks was stretching his cock out from the inside, making it thicken considerably… so much so that the metal plating around the firing port was looking incredibly tiny compared to the size of the rod it was supposed to be relying on for a seal. It all happened so quickly that even if Baha had been in possession of his mental faculties, which he most certainly was not, he wouldn’t have been able to see everything that took place anyway; in what felt like an instant, his dick was pumped outwards until it completely obliterated the firing port, miraculously sparing the horse from explosive decompression by virtue of his cock managing to bend the steel plating around its circumference! Then again, as soon as he became limp and flaccid again, it’d be a bit of a problem, but that wasn’t something that his mind was ready to process at that time… not when he had the actual cumshot to handle. For years, Baha had dealt with releases that were several orders of magnitude above what most males could expect, for years he’d had to carefully pick and choose who he took back home, knowing as he did that there was a reasonable chance some injury might occur if he didn’t make sure his partner for the night knew what the risks were. For years he dealt with a body that absolutely refused to obey natural law in just how quickly it swelled and bloated unless he jacked off several times a day… and yet, despite all of this, somehow, what he experienced in that moment blew everything else out of the water. Nothing, not a lifetime of climaxes, not swimming pools’ worth of cum, could even come close to this one, magnificent load being blown. Miraculously, despite so many things having gone so terribly wrong and the facility in general sounding like it was about to tear itself apart under the strain of keeping the horse contained, in the end, the mining team got exactly what they wanted: a perfectly straight, high-pressure jet of cum, fired from the tip of Baha’s cock, headed straight for the asteroid at the most perfect possible angle. They couldn’t have possibly hoped for anything better, not when the thick, straight glob fired off at speeds so high that even the cameras and sensors they had mounted to measure it couldn’t properly log the velocity; much like with the pressure gauges, the scales simply maxed out and overflowed, leaving error messages plastered on the few screens that still worked back in the control room, and though everyone knew for a fact that it was impossible to hear the impact, they all nonetheless would, if asked, swear upon their lives that they could tell the exact moment where the millions of gallons of spunk collided with the target asteroid. It was a certain sense of finality, a pressure wave that didn’t exist accompanied by a deep, distant rumble that couldn’t possibly have come from the vacuum outside, and yet when their chief foreman switched over to the cameras that were pointed at the motherlode, what they saw only confirmed their suspicions. Typically, upon completing a controlled demolition of an asteroid, the end result was a relatively slow drift, where each of the now-separate chunks would gently float away from one another, helped along by the kinetic shockwaves produced by the explosives themselves; it typically wasn’t enough for the chunks to fly off into space before a squadron of autonomous drones held them in space, but it did open up enough room in what used to be the asteroid’s interior for proper mining operations to begin. While no one had actually run the numbers on what they expected Baha’s explosive climax to do, mostly because they had no frame of reference for what the horse was capable of, they were expecting along the same lines: a cracking along the seams, a slow drift, and standard operations to resume afterwards. What they couldn’t have expected was for that single shot of spunk to have reached such high velocities that it didn’t so much impact the asteroid as it did pierce through it, quite successfully blasting it apart along a near-perfectly cylindrical hole punched from one side of the rock to the other; the end result was that it didn’t carefully push the various broken pieces apart as much as it jettisoned them in every direction, prompting the mining team to scramble in order to activate the support drones before it was too late, leaving any questions they might have for later. Little did they know that what they were seeing was simply the aftermath, for Baha didn’t have the luxury of just having a load or a singular release; rather, the closest thing he could come up with to describe what happened would be a volcanic eruption, a continuous stream of spunk that flowed directly from his nuts, through his swollen, bulged-out cock and straight out into space, seemingly stretching out his dick to such a point that he wasn’t even sure whether or not it’d be permanent by the end of it. All he knew was that he had countless many gallons of cum packed away in his nuts and that he had to get rid of them somehow, even if that meant bucking his hips to make good use of the tight ring of metal around the halfway point of his shaft, the boundary between his pressurized environment and the harshness of the cosmos; the poor guy wasn’t even thinking about the consequences of potentially loosening the seal, nor did he stop to consider that deliberately trying to end things would just leave him flaccid, thus leading to his cock no longer being capable of holding back the pressure differential… but really, if such things eluded him in the best of times, could he really be faulted for not thinking about them when he was still so backed up that he couldn’t even move properly? The cumsplosion might’ve taken care of most of his week’s worth of seed production, enough that his turgid cock was pointed at a great big hole surrounded by cum-stained chunks of rock, but his nuts were still too big for him to heave them from the metallic domes they had been placed in, and that dick of his certainly wasn’t in any fit state to go back into his pants. In fact, judging by how heavily and loudly his balls were churning, Baha figured that most of his load was yet to come, though at least the supersonic jet of cum that had successfully cracked open their mining target had begun to abate… in a certain fashion. The actual pressure of the release itself hadn’t changed at all, merely the frequency; whenever the equine’s body twitched, whenever their package rumbled and his dick was stretched out just a little bit more in order to deal with the additional loads, causing the metal around it to groan menacingly, he still managed to output what felt like hundreds of gallons of his seed at speeds too great for him to truly consider. It just so happened that, rather than one long, continuous release, he was doing this in spurts, albeit ones so frequent that they might as well be a single bigger one. Nonetheless, it was the first indicator that things were at least starting to wind down, if that meant anything at all, and that eventually, his balls would finally start to empty out; Baha knew this, at some unconscious level, hence why he was suddenly permeated with a sense of calm that he couldn’t quite explain himself. Maybe it was the fact that he suddenly felt emptier than before, or perhaps how the rumbling all around him had grown dimmer… somewhat. Ultimately though, it was the understanding that he was rapidly approaching familiar territory again, after spending such a long time away from it: release, and the sensations that came with it, the same ones that he experienced several times a day back when he wasn’t being used as a one-person demolitions array. It’d still take a while, of that there was no doubt; even if he got rid of an inch of diameter with each of his loads, there were still a lot of inches to go through, courtesy of his body being as hyperactive as it was, but at least he could feel his mind slowly returning to where it was supposed to be, albeit slightly lopsided and possessed of a few thoughts that shouldn’t be there, at least for his own safety. Truly, after an experience like that, the last thing that Baha should be thinking about would be going through it again; no, he needed some rest, probably a few weeks just to be able to think about even going without masturbating at all, let alone for an extended period of time… and yet, despite knowing this, there was a small part of him that insisted on asking a simple, single question: what if not, though? What if he just… did it again? What if he allowed his nuts to empty out only to fill back up again? It felt better than anything else he’d ever experienced so… Why not again?

As the film crew prepared for the shoot by positioning the planetary straps and rearranging orbital mechanics in order to give everyone plenty of room to work with, the star of the show was busy panicking over what was, by all means, a perfectly routine gig that she should be more than capable of going through with no difficulty whatsoever. Vivian had positioned herself on the other side of the planet, safely away from the moon she was supposed to destroy; out of sight, out of mind, and as long as she could avoid thinking about it too much then she should be fine… though that didn’t really solve the problem of what to do when it came time to actually deploy her talents and blow through the whole chunk of rock with a single load, or whatever it was she was supposed to do. On first inspection, one might be forgiven for thinking that the Braixen would be more than up to the challenge of piercing through an entire moon using only what nature had given her; sure, she might only be a meager ten miles tall, but her assets were nothing if not enviable: with an ass so fat and hips so thick that satellites could circle around those things, and a pair of milk-stuffed tits that covered most of her front, she was the perfect picture of fertility… and with two cum factories bigger than her breasts servicing a cock so immense that even in its flaccid state it was already longer than Vivian was tall, she served as a symbol of virility as well. She truly took after her mother; even if the younger Poké-gal’s proportions weren’t as positively absurd as those of her progenitress, they were several orders of magnitude more exaggerated than her mom’s had been at her age, hinting at a much higher potential than the older Delphox could ever hope to have. A Delphox that, to her credit, was doing her best to try and ease her daughter into the family business. She knew from the start that it would be a hard sell, given their… unique nature. While other macro-grade individuals were fully capable of operating at scales that boggled the minds of those who didn’t share the gene, Violet outshone all of them without even trying. Standing at an absolutely stunning twelve miles tall, it was hard to truly accurately gauge what her body’s size was, given that it was buried underneath so many curves that, at times, even seeing her body at all was a chore and a half. With tits so stuffed with milk that they were each about half as big as the planet she was orbiting and an ass to match, the only thing that could truly compete for size was the cock she so proudly sported, long enough that it could easily pierce through the solid core of the world she was on and come out the other side without even needing to be at half-mast. Moving around wasn’t exactly difficult for her, given that she was in space after all, but doing so without knocking something out of orbit was… somewhat difficult. It took a while before she reached her daughter Vivian, and from there even longer before the transport crew was able to give them some privacy. Talking to one another had never been either of their strong suits, though not out of a lack of talent or tact; when one was as big as they were, getting to speak face to face was a rarity, requiring ample amounts of spatial distortions and rampant abuse of orbital dynamics; every time, Violet could only wonder what it would’ve been like if her little Vivian was still small enough that her doting mother could take her into their bosom and ask what was wrong… though, the sheer fact that the Braixen had indeed blossomed into such an enormous and enormously beautiful young woman as she had was more than cause for celebration in Violet’s mind; if her pride and joy, her little baby, was so absurdly proportioned already, one could only imagine what she would be like after evolving! That was, after all, the whole point of that day’s shoot. The actual destruction of a whole moon was nothing if not a secondary concern, a little something extra to justify having a ridiculous title attached to the holovid; Violet herself had accomplished far greater feats, including that one time where she accidentally went overboard and utterly destroyed an entire star system in an hour when she was only supposed to obliterate a couple of planets over the course of a five-hour shoot. That one required so much editing that the unedited footage was still generally believed by the public to be the post-production one; after all, who could realistically transform a whole star into a fusion engine of cum in just a single shot of spunk? That much was nothing if pure fantasy for the biggest of hyper macro lovers, not reality. Little did any of those little ones know that not only was it absolutely true, but it represented barely a fraction of the Delphox’s true power. For her sake and everyone else’s, Violet did her best not to put her abilities on full display; the last thing anyone needed was for half of the galaxy to be flooded in her seed, with the other half having to deal with growth bursts that would probably take centuries to calm down. She made it a point of pride to try and treat everyone around her as best as she could, owing to a lifetime of effectively being a living inconvenience on geographical scales; thus, when she had her little Vivian, she worked tirelessly to teach her those exact same values. It worked well enough… probably too well, given the poor girl was so perpetually embarrassed by her own assets that she had to ask permission each time she tried to land back on any planet, despite the insistence of galactic authorities that it was fine for her to do so, provided she touched down on pre-approved locations. Now that the Braixen was old enough to join the production company, however, Violet was faced with a hard choice. On the one hand, it had been Vivian who expressed an interest in doing the same job as her mom did, much to Violet’s own surprise; the older Delphox had imagined her little Braixen to want to pursue a career in stellar engineering, perhaps even planetscaping given her innate productivity. Then again, given her productivity, it would be downright criminal not to make good use of their unique genetic make-up to its absolute fullest; on the other hand, however, she didn’t want to push her daughter into doing something that she didn’t feel comfortable with, which obviously contrasted somewhat with the whole point of that venture in the first place. Sure, she herself could take her daughter’s place if need be, but it wouldn’t be the same thing; the public demanded something new. “It’s your big day today, sweetheart,” Violet ‘spoke’ up, allowing the mental link between the two of them to transmit her thoughts over to her daughter, “why are you hiding all the way back here? Don’t you want to see the moon before you crack it open, at least?” The Braixen’s blush was visible even all the way from where Violet was floating, prompting the larger Poké-gal to twist and turn until her body was facing interstellar space, allowing her to bring one hand over to her daughter’s shoulder. Even in the coldness of the cosmos, they were so warm to the touch that it made Violet feel like giving them a hug and never letting go, just so they knew that they weren’t alone, and that their mom too once felt the exact same thoughts that they were having: the doubt, the performance anxiety, and above all, that twinge of awkward shame over the size of their body. She wanted to tell them all that, but couldn’t… so the flow of emotions through their mental link would have to do. “Are you sure I’m up for it?” Vivian eventually replied, the question seemingly directed more at herself than anyone else, “I know that you said I’m ready for it, but… I dunno, there’s something about it that’s leaving me nervous. I don’t know what it is, just…” “Hun, dear…” - Violet continued to move closer and closer still to her daughter, seriously risking the integrity of both of their orbital stabilizers as she did so. It was important though, important enough that she had to look Vivian in the eyes and physically speak to her; with some difficulty, the larger Delphox somehow managed to twist herself around enough to place one hand on either side of the Braixen’s face, turning their teary eyes towards her own - “I have no idea what you’re capable of, I really don’t. You’re… you’re so much bigger than I was at your age, and I know you’ll get bigger still. I have no clue what you’ll be like under the cameras, nor how well you’ll react under pressure; hell, we only really have our draining sessions to go by, and those really don’t hold up to what we’re doing here. But I do know one thing. You know what that is?” There was a small moment of silence between the two, with Vivian’s mouth widening into a grin as she moved closer to hug her mom as best she could… which, all things considered, was at least a valiant effort. “That I’ll do my best and end up being the best?” the Braixen responded, echoing her mom’s frequent choice of words. “Well, I was gonna say that you’ve blasted apart bigger things than moons before, but that works too,” Violet quipped, sniffing as she held back a couple of tears, the realization of what was truly happening hitting her all at once, “honey, you cannot imagine how happy I am for you right now. It really doesn’t matter what happens, just the fact that we’re here, that you’ve decided to do what I do, is just… you can’t begin to understand how happy that makes me. And I need you to know that all I want is for you to be happy, ok? So if you want to back away now, that’s ok; this industry’s not for everyone and goodness knows that I’ve had my fair share o-mmpfh!” Violet’s hurried blabbering was interrupted by the sudden intrusion of a nipple in her mouth; how exactly her daughter managed to disentangle herself from their hug and move one of her tits around so quickly was anyone’s guess, but given the sort of spatial distortions they had at play there, perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising. Just like all the other times Vivian had decided to shove a tit onto her face in order to shut her up, Violet giggled quietly and began happily drinking from the tap; it was such a cheap tactic on the Braixen’s part, but it worked each and every single time, in no small part thanks to the effect it had on the older woman’s body. The changes were always temporary, even if the length of duration seemed to increase each time that sort of thing happened, but that was little consolation for the mechanics on call for the shoot once the growth began. Much like Violet’s own milk, Vivian’s was extremely energetic and dense, rich in calories to the point where a single drop was often enough to be distilled into sufficient rations to handle a large city for a whole month… and Violet was gulping down whole mouthfuls of the stuff while her daughter gently squeezed their breast, milking themselves directly into their mother’s throat. The exchange rate was always the same: one mile of extra radius on each tit, asscheek and nut per mouthful of cream, in addition to a good five or so miles of cockmeat with an accompanying proportional increase in girth. Thankfully for everyone involved, most of those things were pointed away from the planet that the two women were orbiting, so the potential damage was seriously reduced. As usual, this carried on until Vivian was certain she could get a word in edgewise, which amounted to letting her mother drink their fill until their assets had doubled up in size… only for Vivian to exchange tits and then give her mom more of the same, leading to a tripling and eventually quadrupling and beyond; it wouldn’t really stop until each of the Delphox’s tits were so unbelievably colossal that their nipples alone were capable of outsizing the planet the two Poké-gals were beside, and their cock had become long enough to probably reach the system’s star if it was pointed correctly. This, of course, was the queue for Vivian to drop the milking aspect and deploy her main weapon; within seconds of the nipple popping clear of Violet’s mouth, it was replaced by a shaft big enough to bulge out her throat, and that one wouldn’t leave until the cum infusion blessed the Delphox with enough protein that… well, it was a good thing the compressors eventually kicked in, otherwise there wouldn’t really be a local stellar system anymore; even then, the size that Violet ended up with more than guaranteed she’d be unable to actually see the shoot, though at least her dick would get a good view. “Thanks mom,” - Vivian capped off the entire thing by leaning down and planting a kiss on her mother’s forehead, who responded with a very groggy smooch back - “I really needed to unwind. Sorry about the uh… everything, really.” “Don’t apologize, silly, you know what momma always says: better out and then in than just in, you know how that works!” “Are you sure you’re gonna be ok though, cuz I haven’t seen you this large in a while…” “And whose fault is that, hmm?” The blush returned, and furiously so, as her mom’s teasing tone all-but ensured that Vivian became intensely aware of just what exactly she had done. Still, the older Delphox very much had a point: if the younger Poké-gal had just managed to do something on that scale purely as stress relief (and a convenient way of getting her mom to stop putting their foot in their mouth), then what use was there in worrying about something as small and insignificant as a moon? Five words and a question were all that were needed for the message to be delivered, and soon enough the blush was replaced with beaming smile and a very snuggle-happy Braixen trying her best to keep her bust out of the way when she lunged to hug her mother for the last time before the cameras started rolling. “Knock ‘em dead, honey,” Violet tearfully murmured into her daughter’s ears, “and when you’re done, we can finish up what we started and do something about those stuffed nuts of yours; leaving them at three-quarters empty is poor form, young lady!” Vivian giggled at the remark, mostly because she knew just how dreadfully true it happened to be; fully releasing was something that neither her nor her mom really got to do at any point in their lives, given the sheer destructive potential that came with it, but they usually got around to at least emptying about half of their full capacity rather than the pittance that the Braixen had provided in those short moments. Then again, she had a movie to film; couldn’t really afford to go all out when most of it had to be saved for a properly explosive finish, one that, judging by the amount of workers pouring over from the other side of the planet, was probably scheduled to happen quite soon. The next hour or so was a frenzy of activity, as Vivian was carefully maneuvered into the location of the shoot while being bombarded with instructions by the director and chief producer; sometimes these were completely contradictory, such as when the latter insisted she try and aim for a single, penetrative “cracking” shot while the latter protested at having to “waste” an entire moon like that, especially if more takes were required. The two got into an argument about expenses that the Braixen really didn’t care too much about, preferring to try and get a better view over what exactly she was supposed to be destroying when it came into view: the moon itself. Her mother, being the type of person that she was, had pioneered that style of filmmaking and the whole genre that came along with it when she started her own company back in the day. With her being significantly bigger than even the most absurdly endowed macros around, it was only natural that she attempted to cater to a crowd that would appreciate such sizes. Thus, while the pornographic industry up until that point had focused more on city-wide, occasionally continental level destruction with their existing hyper and macro productions, Violet had decided to go bigger; with such a vast, wide universe out there to explore, and plenty of planetary bodies that just weren’t fit for terraforming, why not invest in a few experimental shoots where they could actually have a macro-level individual utterly wreck something on those scales without having to resort to CGI? It was risky, and she very much knew it; it took years before she found the funding for it, and even longer before the permits were finally received, but as soon as her first film, “Massive Vixen Macro Hyper Blows Through Entire Planet With One Load”, hit the shelves, it was such a runaway success that money began pouring in faster than her company could spend it. Since then, she’d produced a good fifty or so movies based entirely around the same concept: herself, a large object in space, and their destruction thereof, be it by getting pierced through with the Delphox’s colossal shaft, flooded with milk to the point where they gravitationally collapsed, or just broken into bits by the force of a single cumshot. That last category was particularly popular, hence why Vivian had selected it for her first foray into the industry; sure, she might not be as productive as her mom was, but her releases were explosive enough that they had to be angled into space in order to be captured and harvested by large inertial nets. By comparison, breaking apart a small moon, especially after getting some relief by emptying out in Violet, didn’t seem all that bad. She felt like she could do it, and that alone was enough to get her to smile and nod to herself. This was possible. This was doable. The instructions and stage directions didn’t stop coming though, and after a while Vivian had to actually pay attention to them. This was pornography, after all, and as such the performative side was far more important than whatever counted for realism in those days: she had to float around in a very specific manner, move in very specific ways, and say her lines with just the right kind of pretend strain mixed in with a pinch of enthusiasm. The plot itself was, frankly, irrelevant, and the dialogue was written to match; it was horribly expository and unworthy of even the barest of attention, serving only as the vehicle through which to deliver the real meat of the film: the explosive climax. All in all, the plan itself was simple: pleasure herself until her nuts billowed outwards just enough to get out of shot of even their widest-angle lens, then release it all in a single, continuous stream of cum, fired with enough velocity to impact against the moon and shatter it into small pieces. If need be, the director assured her, they could run at least seven takes before their permit for local reality restructuring had to be renovated, so, as he put it: “No pressure. Well, some pressure, but not that kind.” It was a dumb joke, but Vivian couldn’t help laughing at it. With the rest of the crew getting into place, there was nothing left for her to do but float there and wait for the order to come in for the cameras to start rolling, and just like every other time in her life that she found herself stuck in place with nothing better to occupy her time with, the Braixen’s hands began to move towards very specific places. It was an automatic response to a lack of stimuli; with a body like hers, Vivian had to find something to keep her mind busy, or else she’d end up going crazy. Unfortunately, this did mean that keeping her cock under control became progressively harder the more the shoot was delayed, not helped by the fact that some last-minute difficulties with catering set it back about thirty or so minutes; by the time the director took his place inside the recording station, the Braixen’s shaft was already about twice as long as she was tall, and about as thick as both her hips were wide, though the crew assured her this could be “fixed in post”. What couldn’t be fixed was the horny. The whole thing had taken so long that Vivian had unfortunately been taken over by her own arousal, which was made significantly worse by her decision to unload inside Violet but not go all the way; the need for release increased exponentially because of this, not helped by her having such a long time to idly stroke herself that she’d reached her full turgid state. As much as Vivian tried focusing, there wasn’t really a lot she could do there, and after the director tried to get the camera rolling, only for the Braixen to miss her very first line, that’s when things started to go awry. Quite fortuitously for everyone present, none of them realized this was the case until it was far too late. Something was dreadfully wrong with Vivian, or, if one was in the mood for being accurate, dreadfully right. There was a wide smile spread across her face, a contented grin that only truly shone through whenever her headspace was devoid of anything but utter bliss; something had caused this, something that had turned her anxiety into something far more delectable, a warmth that the colossal Poké-gal felt welling up inside of her all of a sudden, one whose origin was difficult to pin down. It wasn’t the same kind of energy released by her regular arousal, nor was it the primal instincts that she felt whenever getting into the “spirit of things”, as her mom put it; this one was different, a far more filling sense of heat that quickly permeated every inch of her within moments of her realizing it was even there… and one that became visible soon enough, when her whole form began to visibly glow. It was impossible. A Braixen evolving at that young of an age? The current record-holder for the earliest evolution in that species had undergone their transformation when they were two decades Vivian’s senior, and only after intensive training; it shouldn’t be possible for the young giantess to just suddenly evolve on her own, without any sort of trigger, especially when she hadn’t even broken twenty-five yet… but the glow was there, and the readings on the monitoring equipment had effectively broken said equipment, so against all odds, it had to be true. The crew couldn’t get in gear fast enough. The director, who at that point had wanted to get into his shuttle to go ask his star actress what exactly she was thinking, turned towards the other people in the control room and began barking orders; permits were disregarded, less-than-legal equipment was deployed, and spatial distortions were activated on a level not yet seen by that crew. The shoot was to commence, regardless of what their legal advisors were shouting at them, because no amount of reality alteration or punitive fees would ever stand up to being able to capture such an impossibly rare event right as it happened. Damn the consequences, they were going to film history! … of a sort, at least. The odds of there being any usable film by the end of it all were slim to none, given the sort of high-energy exposure they were subjecting themselves to, but they were going to try anyway. Speculation ran rampant as those watching tried to guess what Vivian would look like by the end of her evolution; macro-level individuals always went through a size boost when they underwent the process, and given that the Braixen was already so big, she would almost certainly end up dwarfing her mother by the time the glow abated and a Delphox came out of it… though by how much was still up in the air. The mental images were enough for several people to instantly need a change of clothes after inadvertently reaching climax purely on the thought alone, and it took a couple of minutes before people realized that this wasn’t because of what they were thinking; it was Vivian herself. No amount of tinted glass could save them from the glow, so bright it was that it threatened to outright melt the observation panes before anyone could do anything about it. Seeing through it was practically impossible, with the light overloading just about anything that could be used to look at it, natural or synthetic; this was perhaps for the best, because the sort of transformation taking place within that cocoon of energy was so incomprehensible in its vastness that it would most likely melt most brains that tried to make sense of it, if not worse. All anyone could hear were Vivian’s moans… which shouldn’t be possible, given the distance and the fact that they were in space, but they were clearly there, and clearly not inside their heads; they were hearing her moan, physically hearing her cries and begging for more, and in a single instant, it was all over. The ascension was over as soon as it began, and quite literally so; Vivian’s actual evolution broke through so many layers of reality in that one, singular instant that it had effectively imposed itself on the timespace continuum such that it had always been, always would be, and always was. There was no glorious growthsplosion of breastflesh covering the entirety of the galaxy, no explosive climax that not only shattered the moon it was supposed to, but the local star and everything else as well; one moment there wasn’t a Delphox goddess, and the next, there was. Vivian herself awoke from her stupor with the full understanding of what had happened to her imprinted into the deepest, most secure reaches of her very self. She could still see herself as she was now… to a point. It was hard to really tell what her proportions were when everything (and quite literally everything) in front of her had been replaced by her tits; trying to get a bead for their size would not only be pointless, it would also be impossible, given that they had more or less become the very fabric of existence of itself, holding everything together, and apparently inside them if all that motion she felt was any indication. The same could be said for her ass, just… behind her. There she was, trapped between two walls of flesh that at once were there and were not, were physical and simultaneously the very concept of physicality, however that was supposed to work. No longer stars, no longer universes, but multiversal clusters floated on and within her bust and cheeks, safely kept within her. Her cock was still there, of course, and that one had received a boost of a degree so tremendous that it was probably literally impossible to quantify. There being plenty of space around her, or at least that’s what she assumed it was, that meant more room for things to be brought into being; thus, with her tits in front and her ass out back, now it was her nuts beneath her and that incomprehensibly vast shaft stretching out towards infinity above her, its endless loads making sure that all of meta-reality had plenty of material to work in order to… create. It was so sudden, though, that it left the Delphox confused; had it truly been instant? The last thing she remembered was orbiting a planet as she got ready to blow up a moon, but those scales seemed so tiny that it felt like an absolute eternity ago, like it didn’t truly happen; perhaps she had simply awoken from a dream, and this was the way she had always been… or maybe the ascension had taken longer than she thought it did? It was hard to focus on anything that wasn’t that incessant wave of pleasure that never truly stopped crashing into her from every direction, prompting her whole body to quake and clech as countless realities’ worth of cum and milk spurted in every direction. In fact, to a certain point, why even bother trying to think about what happened previously; she’d finally reached perfection, a state of being that affirmed her beauty upon all of everything! If her mom were there, sh- Her mom. Vivian’s eyes went wide as the memories began to flood back in. It hadn’t been an instant, it hadn’t been quick, it hadn’t been something that always existed and always would. She was a goddess, yes, but this hadn’t always been the case; in that one moment of existential realization, the Delphox knew that her mind had shielded her from the truth for as long as it could, a fruitless endeavour that was doomed from the start. The blushing returned, so furiously as to melt any sort of matter into subatomic soup, as the sequence of events that led to her current state flooded back into her mind. She remembered everything.

“I’m sorry, how long?!” The doctor in front of her didn’t look like he wanted to answer that question, presumably because he was afraid he just might end up smothered against the wall by a pair of tits bigger than his own head or sat down upon by an ass that was just as big. It had been bad enough to conduct the whole appointment while having to look at so much cleavage that the vixen may as well be fully nude if she so desperately wanted to show off, but now he had to tell this endless pit of horny energy that she was supposed to go for a full week without tapping into her very nature, or satisfying the desires that had led her to becoming what she was nowadays. “I’m afraid it’s the only way we can be certain of how to proceed,” the endocrinologist explained, choosing his words very carefully when he heard his patient sloshing with how much she was shifting around in her seat, “in order for us to devise a proper medication schedule, we need to know what your baseline is, and we can’t really do that if your hormone levels are constantly varying as a result of your very active, and I presume safe, sex life. I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, but if there’s any way for us to go ahead and try and fix your growth problems, you’ll have to bear with us and not stimulate yourself sexually for at least a week while the monitor collects information. And yes,” the man added when he saw Starry look at her own hands, “that includes masturbation as well, I’m afraid.” The vixen’s expression was one of such dejection and despair that one might be forgiven for thinking that she’d just been told she had a week to live, not seven days in which she couldn’t find a hot twenty-something to rock her bed with or spend a few hours locked in her bedroom with both hands firmly between her legs. Honestly, some part of her recognized that this was probably why she had gone from a perfectly regular, if more curvaceous than average vixen to one that was just over six feet tall and had a pair of tits and asscheeks wide enough that some narrower doors were already a hassle to navigate. Then again, she lived for that kind of stuff, adored indulging in the kind of rampant carnal enjoyment that came with not caring about what others might think about it; it was the very same reason why her taste in clothing had only gotten flimsier as time went on, deliberately covering less and less as she had more and more to cover up in order to preserve whatever was left of her decency. After all, what was the point of having a chest or butt that ample if she didn’t flaunt it for the world to see? It felt like a genuine waste. “A-Are you sure there’s no other way?” Starry asked, more desperate than really inquisitive, something clicking inside of her mind and telling her to lean forward so her chest-obscuring breasts squished almost obscenely heavily onto the table between herself and her doctor, “I mean, if you’d like to see what this body is like up close and personal, then I wouldn’t mind; get some good data, if you know what I mean~” Starry didn’t know what possessed her to say something as stupid as that, but seeing as how the man in front of her reacted by moving his chair back and frowning at her, this could only mean her attempt at flirting didn’t work. It was a shame really; that avian was hung and could probably take her for a decent ride if he was up for it; instead, he produced a small bracelet from one of his drawers and pushed it onto the table, giving Starry time to pick it up and examine it, only to come to the conclusion that, apart from it looking like a very fancy watch, she had no idea what it was supposed to do. “It’s a hormone monitoring system,” the doctor helpfully chipped in, his voice slightly trembling after the blatant bout of teasing he was on the receiving end of, “we’ll need you to put that over one of your wrists, turn it on, and allow it to collect data for a full week. Remember: no sex, no masturbation, no stimulation of any kind that might get you aroused; do this, and we might just be able to garner enough information to help you fix your uncontrolled growth spurts… assuming the team can make sense out of the results, that is.” He didn’t sound too confident that they would, but then again, Starry wasn’t really paying attention anymore, rather trying to come to terms with the unfortunate reality that she wouldn’t be able to get off for a full week, when going for a few hours without at least one of her hands gravitating towards her nethers was already cause for alarm and extreme nervousness. How exactly she was supposed to last for seven days was anyone’s guess, but seeing as the endocrinologist seemed to be more interested in shooing her away rather than assuaging any of Starry’s doubts, the vixen decided it’d be best to slump back home and try her best not to completely lose it at the earliest convenience. Once her front door was safely locked behind her, she managed about thirty minutes before catching herself absentmindedly rubbing one of her own exposed breasts, having taken up complete nudity while within her home, at which point she had to stop and seriously reconsider her approach to the whole process. She wouldn’t be able to last for the required time unless her routine underwent some serious changes and she deliberately tried to hold herself back at every second of every day; it would be painful, it would be arduous, but allowing her mind to wander could have catastrophic consequences, and not just for the week-long baseline study either. Who knew what indulging herself freely after a period of abstinence might do to her body, given that regular pleasure alone was often enough to add an inch or two to her curves or height whenever she really got off with someone she particularly enjoyed? Better that she take the time to control her impulses and constantly find herself in a state of annoyance and deprivation than risk having to redo her wardrobe (again) after her self-control failed her for the umpteenth time; and the first step towards ensuring that she’d be successful was to tap into that very same wardrobe and put some bloody clothes on. It was weird to walk around her house fully clothed for the first time in what felt like years, but it was either that or fail her allotted task, so Starry sucked it up, sighed away her irritation at the whole thing, and then tried to carry on with her day. It went… about as well as it could, all things considered. The thought of pleasuring herself never really left her mind, but then again, the vixen didn’t do anything to boot it out; as far as she was concerned, remaining perfectly and acutely aware of just how horny she was at any given time was crucial for her continued efforts at denying herself, and as much as it pained her to ignore the burning need in her loins that only grew more intense and all-consuming throughout the day, she knew it had to be done. Sure, by eight o’clock in the night even the pots and pans were starting to look appetizing, but her willpower prevailed, allowing her to get all the way over to bedtime without once falling to her more base desires… only to then run right into the realization that she wouldn’t be able to control herself during the night. She couldn’t help it, it was stronger than her; without her conscious mind there to help guide her actions away from self-ministrations and several fingers in a couple of good places, her body would undoubtedly run wild the moment it was allowed to do so. Thankfully, there were plenty of useful pieces of equipment she could put to use in just that situation, gear that had once been used during her more frisky encounters and now, quite poetically, would be her salvation when it came to abstinence and self-control; after all, padded cuffs made for a wonderful means of restraining herself, both legs spread wide apart and inviting any would-be lover to make good use of them once she clipped the restraints over her ankles and opposite sides of the bed’s frame, and with some wiggling and contorting, her hands were suitably hooked to the wooden struts behind her (safe in the knowledge that opening those things was pathetically easy with how used to it she was, yet not easy enough for her sleeping self to do… hopefully). This left her spread-eagled and in just the right position to have one of her many boytoys have their way with her, and now that her limbs were perfectly secure and ready to go a whole night without doing something she’d regret later, Starry could allow herself to fall asleep to the wonderful mental image of a room full of suitors all desperate to climb onto her while she grew to fill it all up from sheer arousal. Hopefully, by daybreak, she’d have enough strength left in her from a whole night of thrashing about to break the cuffs keeping her in place, or else her workplace would have a very awkward call at around eight in the morning. Despite the intense arousal, the vixen managed to fall asleep easily enough, only to wake up seemingly right afterwards feeling as refreshed and restored as she possibly could given that her tits had ballooned to nearly triple their usual size, along with an equivalent boost in weight and pudge on her rear. It took a bit for Starry to process just what she was seeing, or rather, not seeing given that her bust was covering her field-of-view, but as soon as her brain booted back up properly and began understanding the world again, that’s when the vixen… sighed. It was all she could do, honestly; did she want to immediately go to work playing with those things until all the cream sloshing about inside erupted from her fist-nized nipples and coated her walls in white? Absolutely, but could she do that and get away with it? Not so much. This left her in the rather unenviable position of having to get back up, completely ignore that growth of that degree wasn’t normal with her, as well as the fact that all of her clothes had magically adapted to her extra girth (and grown skimpier in the process as well, with her tube tops basically being strips of cloth at that point), then get ready for a day at work after figuring out how her car worked for the tenth time that week, blissfully ignorant of how reality itself was already beginning to fray at the edges over such a self-evident contradiction as her not pleasuring herself for a full twenty-four hours. Still, nothing at work or otherwise seemed to imply that things were anything but normal. No one commented on the extra size, no one really complained about the fact that Starry couldn’t move without pushing something (or someone) out of way or the fact that her tits were leaking so heavily that sometimes she’d end up hip-checking someone onto a puddle and they’d only stop once they were outside the café itself after skidding along for a whole minute on the flood of cream running everywhere. Starry herself was much too busy trying to keep herself together in order to care too much about what her body was becoming, how her head was noticeably closer to the ceiling and how her assets were still so disproportionate to her frame that it should have been a reason to go back to her doctor immediately to call off the week-long trial and try for something new. But, being as focused on self-restraint as she was, the vixen didn’t notice how everything around her was beginning to warp and change to better fit this new version of herself that she was creating through inaction, not even when the door she walked out of after her shift was over was both noticeably wider and taller than it had been when she walked in through it several hours before; all that Starry cared about was getting home and hopefully not losing control completely on the way there. Once safely within the privacy of her abode, it was down to sitting down on the couch and staring at her own cleavage while sinking her claws into the couch and trying not to think too hard about what she wanted to do. It was surprisingly easier than it had been the day before; the thoughts were still there, of course, but there was something about it that made it slightly more bearable than it had been initially. Perhaps it was the thought that a whole day went by and proved that she could do it, thus giving her some much-needed motivation while also proving the task wasn’t as impossible as she made it out to be, or maybe her brain’s chemistry had already been so wildly altered by the lack of stimulation that it was suddenly perfectly ok with a sexual death as long as it could fantasize about surviving an ordeal that it physically couldn’t. Whatever the case, Starry actually succeeded in getting up and doing some chores, even if cleaning anything became all-but impossible given the amount of milk she was leaking everywhere. Once back on her bed for the night, putting the cuffs back in was… well, impossible, given that her tits were too big for her to bend down and even reach her feet at all, leaving her to hope that her legs wouldn’t get too wild when she was under, while still taking care to restrain her hands; those ones she could not trust. It should have been surprising when Starry woke up and suddenly felt her nipples brushing up against the ceiling, probably helped by an ass wide enough to spill over the side of the bed and smush itself against the milk-flooded floor, but it wasn’t; as far as the vixen was concerned, things were just perfectly normal for her, barring the fact that she had to keep her hands cuffed to her bed to keep from masturbing during the night whenever her mind wasn’t around to stop her from doing so. Sure, her room was completely waterlogged with her own cream and she couldn’t quite move without the ceiling groaning in distress, but as far as she was concerned, nothing was really out of the ordinary; just as long as she could use her milk to lubricate her exit, then getting out of her room would be as easy as collapsing the wall and getting through to the other side so she could burst through the apartment block’s façade and onto the street below. How exactly she was supposed to use a car didn’t strike the vixen as an important question so much as why the slingshot bikini she wore as a uniform felt so tight around her. It was normally loose enough that not only did she barely feel that it was there, but it allowed for the maximum amount of bounciness that she could get away with without it seriously damaging her environs, yet today, for whatever reason, that thing just refused to budge entirely, leaving her feeling like it was practically glued onto her form rather than just loose enough to allow for movement. No matter; she was going to be late for work if she kept trying to understand why her clothes acted the way they did, and it was already difficult enough for her to move as it was now that her tits were pushing heavily against the ceiling; as such, the vixen spent a good ten minutes trying to roll off to the side while occasionally sinking her hands into her own bust in order to stimulate some of its milk production, hopefully getting them flowing just enough to provide for the right amount of friction reduction that she could finally get herself moving. This came only after much effort on her part, leading to the wall separating her bedroom from the living room collapsing once her tits fell onto it, Starry herself groaning at the thought of having to call a repair company for… whatever time it was, she couldn’t quite remember it that early in the morning. Regardless, this wasn’t any good reason for her not to get ready for work, so she got up, banged her head against the ceiling like she usually did, and then just walked forwards until the building’s façade crumbled against the streets outside just as easily as her own bedroom wall had moments before; Starry figured that, if she already had to pay for construction, she might as well go for broke and include a much sturdier frame around her whole apartment, given the sort of sizes she had to deal with on a daily basis. Or so she assumed at least, things were surprisingly foggy and hard to focus on that day for whatever reason. Now freely outside, the vixen at least got to stretch her limbs out properly, finally set loose from the constrictive confines of her tiny home. It was hard, being a ten-foot-tall mini-giantess with tits big enough to smush against the ground and still be able to completely obscure her field-of-view, but she managed; at least being that tall allowed her to make very good time on heading to work, even if it did mean forcing several cars off the road or pushing parked vehicles against the buildings on either side of her street, a street that was surprisingly cramped all things considered. The vixen didn’t recall a time when she had both sides of her breasts squeezed so heavily against the apartment blocks around her, nor a time where moving took so much effort on her part that she could hear the sounds of metal scraping and glass shattering with each step she took, but everyone around her seemed perfectly fine with this, so clearly it must’ve happened previously; in fact, a few even offered to help, regardless of how little it would help, leading Starry to politely decline based on some misbegotten sense of decency. Besides, her workplace wasn’t too far away; just a few blocks of ruined building fronts and she was already next to the front door, wondering how exactly she was supposed to get in when her bust was big enough to fill most of the interior. Did she usually break the front wall down? Goodness, of course she didn’t, how silly of her! The doors had compressors on them, that’s how she managed to get inside every day, how could she not have remembered this? Chuckling quietly at her own forgetfulness, Starry bent down and tried squeezing her way in, going through the familiar and yet still-slightly-unnerving process of seeing her body shrink in ways that defied perception and logic as it was forced through a spatial distortion field, only to emerge perfectly formed on the other side. As was usual, her appearance heralded a wave of cheers from everyone around her, as well as ample complaining from the ceiling now that both of her tits were pushing up against it. ‘Twas nothing short of a miracle that the whole place hadn’t collapsed already, and Starry remembered right at that exact moment how it was often a topic of discussion between herself and her similarly-sized (in height, at least) boss: that eventually, some day, the vixen was going to bring the whole house down in the most literal way possible unless the ceiling was extended or the compressor field was applied to the whole café, both things she was regularly informed the establishment didn’t have the money for. Starry would like to call bullshit on that, but she wasn’t in the business of getting into arguments with people she cared about. Nonetheless, it was hard to believe that the café was running low on funds, or indeed was anywhere but swimming in cold hard cash, considering just what its business model was: there was always an endless line of people just waiting to be served some of the vixen’s milk, at times waiting in the rain or the sweltering heat for hours at a time just so they could sit down underneath one of her teats and allow the ensuing cream waterfall fill their stomachs and restore them back to full health and stamina; not to mention the presentation itself, what with having a gorgeously curvaceous vixen whose colossal mounds were only matched by her equally-gigantic ass, dressed only in a slingshot bikini and bouncing around like she wasn’t big enough to make the whole building tremble whenever she did so. Again, it was a wonder the whole place hadn’t already collapsed from the amount of damage she did to it without even trying, which is precisely why, when the vixen was duly distracted, reality readjusted itself to keep her going by granting her the very same wish she had just formulated, yet had assumed had always been there: compressing the whole dining room floor entirely. It wasn’t the best of solutions, but it was a solution; at the very least, it allowed for the dimensions within the café itself to withstand her gigantic sizes and not completely fall apart in the process, plus it gave her plenty of room to walk around and be enormous in, providing enough space for some truly astounding feats of elasticity and agility coming from someone who should, by all means, be immobilized by her own size. Yet during all all this, there was always that one nagging voice, that little source of discomfort constantly reminding the vixen that she was missing out on something, that her routine had been thoroughly warped, that things weren’t normal… because she hadn’t gotten off in two whole days. Starry couldn’t really care less about how her body had obviously become bigger and far more productive than it had been, to the point where her tits had very clearly bloated in between her waking up and now serving glasses of milk to glazed-eye customers, enough that she was having trouble moving them around, all while trying not to think too hard about how she wouldn’t be able to empty them out given the moratorium on personal stimulation. She couldn’t care less about how her asscheeks were each thickening as well, seemingly keeping pace with her bust regardless of how little sense that made. She couldn’t care less about the fact that her body in general still seemed to be picking up in height and general size, apparently in an attempt to keep up with her burgeoning assets, yet still falling just short of maintaining her proportions, ensuring that she became ever more stacked and bottom-heavy as the day went on. She couldn’t care less about any of this… but she did care about the reason for it, even if she didn’t realize that it was a reason for anything at all. It was easier than Starry assumed it would be, yes, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still immensely difficult to keep her focus at times. Occasionally, all the vixen wanted to do was stop and get frisky with herself in order to push the sexy thoughts away, and more than once she considered turning around and begging her boss to come meet her in the employee backroom so the two of them could have a private meeting and hash out their differences in the most direct way possible. Even when putting on a smile and doing her best to serve her customers, there was still a large part of the vixen’s mind that was focused entirely on trying to find the nearest phallic object that she could shove into herself, fantasizing about how great it would be if only there was a customer big enough to service a body like hers, all while the rest of her conscious thought process dug itself in to withstand the endless onslaught of horny thoughts and sheer arousal that threatened to wash over her and command her body to do what had to be done. In a way, it was her wild side that was more or less in the right, for once; Starry not climaxing at least thrice a day was apparently the only thing keeping her body from not only going completely wild with itself, but also maintaining some semblance of normality in the bubble of reality around her, a bubble that only grew wider as time went on and the vixen refused to indulge in what was her right by virtue of simply existing. Surely, at some point, someone would’ve noticed that Starry hadn’t always been that big, someone would’ve made a comment about it and someone would’ve tried to bring it to someone else’s attention… but no one did. Every customer that came into the café that day seemed perfectly okay with the fact that their favorite vixen towered over everyone and made short work of any table or chair that she didn’t happen to see in time, and judging by the way her co-workers responded to this, then they were surely just as used to the whole thing as Starry herself felt she was. It was normal, after all; why bother concerning themselves with something if it was as it always had been? Still, the day managed to end without the giantess throwing herself at any of the customers in a way that would ensure a lawsuit happened, even if she was very much thinking about it by the time her shift was ending, and even found the time to eye a few of the more attractive-looking young men that were brave enough to make a few passing comments towards her. They always figured themselves strong enough to be able to take her, not knowing that they were setting themselves up to being ridden dry and practically crushed beneath an insatiable amazon that would not stop until she, too, was completely empty and devoid of stamina. But that was for another day, a week from then, after she was done with the hormone study, after she could look down at her wrist and not have to see that blasted monitor ticking and beeping away whenever it analyzed a sample it drew without her noticing it. It was hellish, especially once she was finally free from her duties, back outside, and with a final stretching of her tired limbs her body could let go after a full day’s work and “readjust” to meet expectations, prompting a growth spurt powerful enough to not only leave the vixen as tall as the buildings around her… but stuck as well. Her bust hadn’t really grown alongside the rest of her so much as it had filled, as it no longer had to contend with a compression field holding it back. Unfortunately, this took place in the middle of a busy road, thus leading to Starry having her bloating tits not only push against the buildings on either side with even greater force than before, but having them spill over the roofs of the very same structures, all while both of the milk factories leaked profusely enough to clog up the storm drains; behind her, the vixen’s butt had gone much the same route as well, making sure that not only could she not move forward adequately, but couldn’t back off into the large park down the road either, leaving her well and truly stuck… and sighing at the annoyance of it happening again, her brain’s defenses holding up against the looming realization that things were not normal. As far as she was concerned, this was a regular occurrence, which only made her curse her decision to go fully nude even more than before; surely, if she had been responsible and brought her compression pasties and thong, then this wouldn’t have happened! Instead, she decided to take a day without any clothes and now couldn’t move anymore, just great; served her right for being experimental. With a sigh, Starry tried her best to try and move forward, not even thinking about how exactly she was going to fit back into her apartment now that a single one of her tits was big enough to completely smother the whole building; it just didn’t strike her as an important question, or indeed a question at all, because obviously the compressor field was there and waiting for her to crawl inside after a few maneuvers to push herself through the sliding panel that made up the road-facing wall of her home. And indeed, once she got there, what she found wasn’t the wrecked façade she’d left earlier that morning, but a fully-rebuilt and ready-to-use apartment home waiting for her to step inside and make good use of the stupendously overpriced compression technology that she inexplicably managed to afford. And, after a whole day of holding back her base desires and trying her best not to succumb to the allure of her own arousal to end up doing something she’d regret immediately, the vixen decided to just fix a sandwich up for herself, finding the whole “sideways cooking” thing surprisingly harder than it should be for someone who should be used to it, before immediately heading to bed and locking her hands in place for the night… not that she needed to, all things considered. Why was she doing it? Her thighs and ass were big enough that they were already rubbing against one another all the time, plus they were of such a size that spreading them open wouldn’t really do much. And with a bust of that size attached to her chest, she couldn’t even reach her nethers without some complicated gymnastics, so there really wasn’t any way that her unconscious, sleeping self would be able to ruin the week-long abstinence binge. Besides, she could hear her tits start to produce more milk, bulging out a couple of inches already, so why bother cuffing herself to the bed? She’d be buried come morning.

Having to work overtime was never a good time, but having to do so while suffering from severe sexual deprivation turned an already bad experience into an almost unbearable one. There were few things on this world which would leave Tiramisu feeling as shit as he did then, but going for weeks without fucking someone definitely ranked up there with the greats, unfortunately enough. As he stared down his stack of paperwork and wondered what it would be like to not have to deal with a departmental inspection that had his bosses more worried than with an IRS audit, the wolf had a hard time actually focusing on what he was supposed to be doing; punching numbers into a database was difficult to accomplish when his mind was so hellbent on thinking about jacking off, or going to a bar to find the first person willing to go home with him. Hell, thinking about anything at all, in fact, was downright impossible when he could practically feel his nuts pulsating with every heartbeat, desperate for release as his cock struggled against the much-too-tight denim of his jeans. There was something to be said about being able to feel his shaft travel down his right pant leg while most of his brain was preoccupied with conjuring new ways to satisfy his urges; something to be said, though not there, not in the middle of the office where people could actually see him… presumably. There was maybe a time when Tiramisu would have immediately balked at the notion of ever being even remotely lewd in public, let alone doing so in a way that would leave him compromised and at the mercy of his own arousal when it was least controllable. Yet, the longer he went without any stimulation, and the longer he remained sitting there looking at a stack of papers that refused to get any smaller, the more he felt like he was about to burst. Looking around, all he saw were not people, but potential mates, all dressed up in work attire, all desperate for someone to fill them up and bend them over a table, not necessarily in that order. He was sweating, unable to hold it in any longer, and it wouldn’t be more than a few minutes more before he began hyperventilating, mostly when he felt the tip of his rod encroach upon his knee. Tiramisu knew that if he were to look down, he’d be able to see the outline of his cock, set perfectly against his jeans, bulging out and begging to be released from its prison; he knew he would never be able to resist doing so, and still being on the clock, thus forced himself to keep looking forward, lest he do something stupid he couldn’t take back. The seconds felt like they were slowing down with each one, every minute that passed taking twice as long as the one that came before; the universe conspired to keep him locked in his cubicle, away from anything and anyone that could fix his problem, alone and isolated from a world of solutions he could employ, forever to suffer at the hands of an uncaring cosmic overlord intent on keeping him blue-balled for all of eternity. He would never leave, that much he was certain; this was his hell, his sisyphean task, and when the stars ran cold and existence itself faltered and waned, he would still be there, staring at a computer screen and inputting numbers on a database… and then his watch beeped. Awoken from his stupor, Tiramisu suddenly found himself staring at his computer monitor, his work program still open, with the rush of people getting up from their seats signalling that their shift had mercifully come to an end. Scanning the bottom right for a clock and seeing the oh-so-beautiful 17:30 in tiny letters, he couldn’t be happier; rushing to get to his feet, Tiramisu practically knocked half of his cubicle upside down in his mad dash to get out of there as quickly as he could, knowing that his long torment was finally at an end: it was his day off the day after, and with it being the one the inspectors came along, he could rest easy knowing he was going to come back to the office to a much more reduced workload… and a far emptier sack if he had anything to say about it. The wolf barely made it out of the building before his right hand was busy rubbing over the bulge running down one of his legs, no longer caring whether or not people saw him or knew how horny he was; maybe he did, a few seconds earlier, but now that he was free he no longer had any shits left to give, hence why he openly stroked and caressed himself as he slowed down to a crawl in the middle of the sidewalk, his legs trembling while the rest of his body ran cold and hot in rapid succession. The world around him blurred, eyes unable to focus properly while sweat poured down from his brow, further obscuring his vision; he should’ve been quicker, should’ve kept himself from even going near his dick, should’ve done a great number of things that wouldn’t have left him a hot and bothered mess in the middle of a public road, but alas, there he was, staring down at several ripped seams and a shaft that insisted on making itself known to the world, along with a pair of cantaloupe-sized nuts who decided the best thing they could do was break through the denim keeping them decent and start bloating in preparation for the release. He smiled; it was out of his hands though, as far as the wolf was concerned, entirely outside his ability to make decisions on. He didn’t make the rules, he just followed them: he was horny, therefore, he had to do something about it, nevermind how this was entirely his fault to begin with. He needed to get off, after so many days without an opportunity to do so, and it hardly mattered that he was out and about in public where everyone could see him; as far as Tiramisu was concerned, his job was to help his body achieve the release it deserved, the release it needed, and if that meant putting his abilities to use even if it wasn’t exactly the best of times to do so. He tried his best not to lose control, but it was… difficult, even under the best of circumstances, given what he could actually do if he put his mind to it. Who else could claim to be able to reshape themselves as well as he did? Who else could claim to have as much control over their form as Tiramisu did over his? Perhaps the worst part of not getting any release in so long was that he couldn’t grow out either, as he had no reason to do so, not on his schedule; all he could do was fantasize about it, which only made it worse whenever he felt like he was getting close to being off the leash. It was bad enough that he was already big by nature, having perfected his form at what he felt was best for an “everyday” frame: standing at an imposing eight feet tall and built like a brickhouse, he was intimidating regardless of whatever room or company he happened to be in or near, and while he made the effort to try and be as pleasant as possible most of the time, he secretly relished any opportunity he had to be the big bad wolf that everyone was scared of… mostly when he was too horny to think straight, such as right there and then. It overrode any concerns he had or might have had for anything remotely resembling subtlety or tact, and replaced them with one primary directive: get off. Both hands on his cock now, which had been released into the wild for anyone to gawp at, the wolf had to take a few steps back to anchor himself against the side of the nearest building, unable to hold back any longer as he stroked his shaft in full view of every bystander within several dozen feet in almost every direction. Soon, his clothes would begin to strain, when his growth began in earnest; it was always slow to pick up at first, but all it took was a reason, a motivation, for Tiramisu to subconsciously order his body to start picking up the pace, as he lacked any and all patience whenever he felt the sweet serotonin release that came with every inch gained in height or bulk. His tongue lolled out of his mouth: it was all the wolf could do to keep himself from howling, and even then he had his jaw wide open and ready to let loose anyway. It was doubtful whether he’d successfully hold back within the next five or so minutes, but by then, there was hardly any reason for him to care anymore. By then, he wouldn’t just be eight feet tall, nor would his cock merely be the size of his arm, nor even would his nuts be hanging in the air… but that was for then. For the moment, for the now, Tiramisu’s main concern was getting everything out of his system, a good couple of weeks of being pent up, now about to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world, ignorant of what was to come. More mass was needed, more of himself, and as such the wolf simply willed more of him to exist; he could do so with but a thought, desirous as he was to become ever greater and more magnificent, no longer caring about keeping his true abilities under wraps so no one would think him to be some kind of weapon of mass destruction. For years he’d wondered what it would take for him to finally snap and do it all in public, and as it turned out, all it took was him going for long enough without getting laid; it was depressingly simple, yet it was with a savage grin that the wolf brought both hands to bear on his colossal pillar of cockmeat, leaking profusely onto the ground and all-but forcing several onlookers to move back in order to avoid getting caught in the splash. Not that Tiramisu particularly cared; by then, he had already pushed himself a few feet upwards, having broken the two digit barrier with nonchalant ease, now working towards getting there in width as well. Hot, heavy breaths escaped from him, his throat practically burning, his muscles definitely so as he ran the gamut of emotions that he’d had to keep repressed for the sake of his job over the previous fortnight: every stray thought, every errant fantasy, every moment where he had to stamp down on his horny side and pretend that it wasn’t there, again and again until he was left a quivering mess spurting a good couple of gallons of precum with every shot that came out of turgid shaft. With every breath, he grew larger, inch after inch after foot gained as if it was nothing, his body swelling outwards at an increasingly rapid pace. Down below, the weight of it caused plentiful damage to the street itself: whenever the wolf had to move a paw, it would crack the pavement or outright cave it in, exposing the pipes underneath. Behind him, any motion was enough to strip large chunks from the facade of the building he was using as a back rest, entire cinderblock-sized pieces of it crashing on the ground below from an ever greater height. Wouldn’t take more than a handful of minutes of this before Tiramisu was ripping apart hundreds of pounds’ worth of construction material without even trying, the rubble raining down on the fleeing crowd underneath him, all without the wolf really considering what he was actually doing. He knew people would be safe, or at least assumed they would be and carried on from there; anything else was entirely secondary as far as he cared, just as long as he got to keep stroking his dick. His cock, his shaft, a member of immense girth that insisted on thickening even more than the rest of him; perhaps, he thought to himself in his brief moments of lucidity, as a result of him having gone without stimulation for so long that it had begun to overcompensate. It certainly felt like something he would do, made some sense, but the wolf was too busy dealing with the consequences of having a cock about half as big as his torso to begin with to really debate the philosophical fine points of the entire scenario. He was horny, he was growing, his nuts were already scratching the floor from how full they were, and that’s all that mattered; everything else was secondary to achieving climax, and if he had to grow so much that he could accidentally stamp cars flat when he wasn’t paying attention, then that was just the cost of business as far as he was concerned. If people didn’t want him to go on a rampage like that, maybe they shouldn’t have kept him blue-balled for so long; he did tell his employer that he had certain needs, and now the entire building was being scraped off the surface of the planet, one layer at a time, because they wouldn’t listen. Now they got to watch as their precious office block was turned to dust because they kept him on the clock for far longer than they should have, and the wolf, absent any reason to give a singular damn about what his employers thought anymore in his state of heightened arousal, was bereft of any reason not to go full-out. He’d already destroyed multiple vehicles, potentially racked up thousands, if not tens of thousands in damages all around, and he had barely begun; he was still leaking pre, nowhere close to a proper climax, and he didn’t have any intention of rushing to the finish line. Two weeks without cumming? Oh, he was going to enjoy himself every second of the way, even if that killed him. He was going to savour every last inch, every last drop, until he was roaring with unbridled, poorly-contained carnal ecstasy, overwhelming and overflowing, with the whole city there to listen to him on his way up to the heavens. He had already started: his head was close to his workplace’s tenth storey, and he was showing no signs of stopping either; hell, he was actually speeding up as far as anyone could tell, in between trying to run away and fighting back against an urge to turn around and stare at the burgeoning colossus. The roaring, the rumbling, the stamping of paws, the avalanche of precum, all of it; bystanders by the dozens were left unable to decide whether to turn around and sprint… or worship their new god. Many of them had never even given half a thought to the notion of religious worship, but when faced with a constantly-growing, seemingly omnipotent titan whose main drive was to splurge all over the city as if no one else was there, what else could they do? Terror, sure, panic and all that, but what was that thing if not a deity in the flesh? At least, their brains told them that much; it was entirely possible that what they were experiencing was in fact some sort of automatic reaction inherent to all living creatures, that to look upon the unknown and proclaim it to be a god of sorts. It could be that the wolf was just a regular wolf, albeit one possessed of powers that no one else had demonstrated before; growers were a thing, even if they didn’t ever reach sizes like those. But as Tiramisu continued to pack on height, bulk, and nut weight, as his cumtanks rumbled aggressively and his cock coated everything in front of him in a thick, pasty layer of white, there was very little room left for interpretation, and even less the longer it went on and he grew larger still; there seemed to be no end to him, no limit to how much mass he could seemingly siphon from nowhere at all, no upper cap to how colossal his body could turn out to be. Indeed, just a few minutes into his growth spurt and he wasn’t rubbing against his old workplace as much as he was sitting on it, using its roof as improvised leverage so he wouldn’t have to constantly slip on the endless amounts of spunk down below. Of course, the rest of the world wasn’t nearly as resistant to the change as the wolf himself was; he might be able to withstand the titanic forces involved in making him so big, but the city around him absolutely wasn’t, and neither was the building he happened to be sitting on. It only took a few moments for him to grow big enough that what remained of the structure crumbled beneath him, turned to dust as it collapsed downwards in a near-perfect vertical drop, causing Tiramisu to smash down as well. The tremors were felt throughout the city proper, drawing eyes towards the source of them and causing fears of earthquakes to spread like wildfire; it took some time before the rumours of a “growing giant” began to filter outside the downtown area, and even longer before anyone took them seriously, leaving most right-thinking folk entirely unprepared for the anomalous event that was the wolf’s ascension. And amidst all this, Tiramisu was still blissfully unaware of any of this, being far too concerned with enjoying every moment to care much about anything else; even if it directly related to what he was doing, he couldn’t bring himself to care, not from malice, not from an undeserved sense of superiority, but because he hadn’t cum yet. The longer he went without a climax, the harder it became to formulate any thought that didn’t directly relate to getting off, and the harder his cock became, the more difficult it was to justify spending any amount of mental resources on anything deemed secondary… and, past a certain point, everything was secondary. As long as it wasn’t breathing and keeping his body technically functional, it could be shoved off into the “things to do later” pile, hence why Tiramisu so eagerly plowed his way through downtown with no regard for his personal safety or the consequences of his actions. For him, there was no tomorrow to consider; it wasn’t as if he was going back to normal after this sort of size explosion, much less return to anything resembling a regular routine, not after exposing himself in such a manner. There was no future ahead of him that didn’t involve remaining at a colossal size, or at least at a large enough one that he would have to change the way he lived, by necessity if nothing else. He could see himself already: towering over the little ones scrambling at his paws, barely able to see anyone or tell them apart from the ground, taken by a boundless lust that would serve as an eternal engine, keeping him fired up for as long as he could retain even the slightest amount of arousal. A cock, forever hardened, a pair of balls eternally stuffed and churning, yet never left unsatisfied; it’d be a perpetual climax, and one that he would enjoy every single moment of, nevermind what it did to everything and everyone around him. He’d already collapsed one building, what were a couple more? All he needed to do was wave his cock from side to side or move around in his bid to find anything solid to lean on and he’d leave a trail of destruction behind him, avenues turned into funnels for the floating debris, the air filled with the remains of obliterated structures, rumbling so loudly with the crumbling of concrete and cracking of glass that even the panicked honking of thousands of vehicles could barely be heard. But none of it mattered; no matter how much effort anyone put into attempting to escape, they would never manage to get far enough away for it to matter, for the wolf could merely outgrow whatever method anyone could come up with. Cars? Too slow. Trains? Not enough of them to matter. Planes? Well, there wasn’t an airport around, and even if there was, he could simply pluck the aircraft from the sky as effortlessly as he would swat a fly. No one would escape, no one could escape, and they would learn to love it. For there was nothing better in Tiramisu’s eyes than to be with him, than to be given the chance to exalt him for however long anyone could… or rather, he would think that, if he still had the ability to produce coherent thoughts that didn’t have to do with cumming as hard as he could at every step of the way. It wasn’t his fault of course, it was just that his body was designed to be that way; other people were good at whatever it was they put their mind to, and he just so happened to be exceedingly proficient at growing. Bigger and bigger, ever higher and more resplendent, until a single paw was enough to cover the entirety of a city block, capable of flattening it into a thin pancake of dust and bits of loose plaster while anything bigger was reduced to its constituent components. He didn’t even realize he was doing it either; it was in his nature to simply follow his instincts, and as soon as he broke the first kilometer in height, there weren’t a great many instincts left that didn’t directly relate to him wanting to be even bigger. It had become a self-sustaining reaction, in that there was no real limit to how far he could go beyond any that he imposed himself, and lacking any sense of self-restraint had all-but assured that the wolf would just keep going until he found a physical hard cap to his size surge, assuming there even was any at all. In the meantime, he would just get bigger, and with that came a host of problems for everyone and everything else; it didn’t help that he was still openly stroking his shaft and very clearly aroused beyond measure, since now this meant that even the smallest of pre spurts was enough to clog entire streets, and the bigger splatters often coated whole districts in a thick layer of clear fluid. It was a prelude to a proper load, and one that everyone present knew would wipe the city clean, but alas, there was no way to escape it; maybe, had they been given advance warning, they could’ve organized an evacuation, but now that they were caught with their pants down, it was impossible to get anything done. With a substantial amount of onlookers choosing to turn towards the titanic wolf, the arteries ensuring a quick means of escape were clogged up, with plenty of people deciding the best course of action would be to try and force others to turn around and give themselves up to Tiramisu, and several more having simply dropped to their knees in open adoration (though not of the prayer variety). And with each one came a boost of power to the wolf, who, despite being entirely unaware of what was happening around him, nevertheless absorbed some of the residual worship… or, perhaps, he was simply that powerful to begin with, and the universe was just now beginning to catch up and give him what he had deserved all along, it was hard to tell. Nevertheless, the end result was the same: a colossal, near-two kilometer-tall wolf, a beast of bulk and mass, a gargantuan titan with a cock nearly as big as his entire upper body and a pair of nuts to match, cramping all over from the strain of pleasuring a member that refused to tip him over the edge. No matter how hard he did it, no matter how much energy he put into it, he never quite seemed to manage; instead, he just kept getting progressively closer to a release, always an inch at a time, one increasingly smaller fraction after another, like an infinite tendency line that approached a value but never quite reached it. He could see it, just on the other side of the proverbial edge, ready to send him into a wild state of euphoria once he actually succeeded at grabbing it; and he would, for despite the fact that existence itself was clearly working against him, that hardly mattered for a wolf whose main power was to ignore the laws of physics and keep powering through regardless of how impossible it was. He was going to cum, and no one had any say in the matter but him; it was just a matter of when. Maybe, if it were a normal day, he would’ve been done already; maybe, if the wolf had held onto his own sense of self-restraint, then he would be home, his body wouldn’t be nearly three kilometers tall, a city wouldn’t be reduced to rubble, and he actually would’ve orgasmed already. Instead, he was left standing there, immense above the land, looking down upon the little ones below, not knowing when his form would stop, unable to tell when his limit would be reached. And that… made things worse. Not because it made it harder for him to climax, but precisely because it aroused him further, which led to even more growth and an increasingly higher cap on how much he could take. Meter after meter, he grew unsustainably larger; past a certain point, he could barely keep standing thanks to the confluence of gravitational forces pulling on him in entirely different directions; a million different ropes tied around him, keeping him well and locked in place as a result of not knowing in which direction he should collapse, a precarious balance that even the smallest of disturbances could thoroughly destroy. Yet for as long as he remained, he would grow; as long as he stood, he would get ever closer to an explosive release, and as long as he was there, he would become greater, end of story. Was it even about climaxing anymore? When his head broke through multiple cloud layers and approached cruising altitude for commercial aircraft, was he still doing it because he just wanted to get off? Was that it? Or was it something more, something deeper? Was it, perhaps, a display of his strength, the wolf growling and rumbling to the world that he was there and so much greater than they thought he was? That he had spent so much time behind a desk that the natural order had been thrown out of balance and now it was his job to address it, by externalizing all that energy he’d been forced to push back and repress; this was the truth, that was his truth, and when the first droplets of proper cum began to make themselves known, so too would it become everyone else’s truth. Tiramisu felt it before anything else, that spark of power coursing through his body, down his spine and back up into his pleasure centers, that singular moment before the orgasm that brought with it a moment of clarity. He knew; were he inside his house and not towering over the landscape, maybe he would’ve arched his back upwards, or let loose a low growl before being wracked by the waves of ecstasy unleashed by the serotonin release. But he wasn’t inside his house, he was outside in the great outdoors, he was encroaching on six kilometers of height, and every movement he made brought destruction to everything below him. He wasn’t even thinking of what he was wrecking, nor of what his swishing tail or mindless paws were destroying whenever he did anything other than stand perfectly still; all he had on his mind was cumming, and when he felt it sneaking up on him, nothing else mattered. There it was: the little death that he yearned for, the instant of gratification that made everything up until then worth it. All the waiting, the rampaging growth, the uncontrollable bulking, all of it was worth it for that one point in time where he felt absolute, endless bliss; if he could take a picture of it and frame it, then that would be it, he’d need nothing else in his life. Nothing but the wave of pleasure that crashed into him, absent any direction, filling him from head to paw in preparation for the final release… and when that came, it brought everything along with it. He was, by then, just over eight kilometers tall, and so wide that he could easily squish the entirety of his hometown with a single toe. So for his cock to finally open its floodgates, when it was bigger than his upper body and connected to a pair of cumtanks so stuffed that Tiramisu could practically use them as a throne, spelled disaster for everyone around him in a wide-enough radius that the Earth’s curvature actually mattered when it came to the final release; hell, the first cum shot alone didn’t even land on the same state that the wolf was in, let alone anywhere near where he started! And though each successive one carried less power with it, there were enough of them that the landscape would be eventually painted white… whenever he was done. For that one moment was never a moment, not with him; he was cumming, and it certainly wasn’t going to be over in a fraction of a second! It would keep going, with him being hit by the raw force of it again, and again, until his insides were mush, his muscles were limp, and a large chunk of the country had been reduced to a landscape of white. *** In the end, it was just him, surrounded on all sides by an ocean of white of his own making, the ruins of a city beneath him, washed away in the tide. His muscles limp, the wolf could barely even move at all, but he somehow managed to drag one of his arms across by his side, sweeping a large quantity of cum from the landscape surrounding him… cum, and plenty of building wrecks that came along with it, as well as anyone still taking refuge within. Wouldn’t take long before he was bringing the unholy mixture to his mouth, not much longer before he was happily swallowing a mouthful. It was obscene, perhaps, but fitting; it was his fault the whole place was like that, and he was going to enjoy it as such. Before he got started again, of course. Couldn’t just have one climax a day.

The machine was ready, the pumps were in place, and the only thing left were the two winners of the contest actually showing up on time. Tara had been waiting for what felt like hours, every ounce of willpower needed just to keep herself from tearing the bags of saline apart and dumping them into the tank, to say nothing of how the need to hook those things up to her ports was itching something fierce; she had her doubts about her ability to keep herself composed once those two made their presence known, hence why most of her time was spent deliberately trying to look away from the center of her room, where everything had been set up for the grand prize. Perhaps using a fill-up session as a reward for the raffle wasn’t the best of ideas. Her implants were already overfilled to the point where they practically creaked whenever she put too much pressure onto them, so packing even more of the stuff into them would, to anyone sane and-or reasonable, sound like a terrible thing to do. But the cheetah wasn’t reasonable, and her sanity was often questionable, at best, when it came to making herself bigger, so the rules didn’t exactly apply to them as much as they did to everyone else; that’s what she kept telling herself at least, since it was something to do that didn’t involve plugging pumps into her breasts and throwing away the remote after breaking the “ON” lever. She found herself bringing her hands to her bust more than once, her fingers failing to get any headway when it came to squish and squeeze; those things were stretched as taut as they could go, a near-painful reminder of just how stupid the idea for more was; and yet Tara couldn’t help but bite her lip at the thought of becoming even larger, nor could she deny that she’d had that exact same fantasy plenty of times before. A quick scan of the bags on her bed revealed that yes, they were still there, and no, the stock hadn’t miraculously shrank since the last fifteen times she looked. All of those had been gifts from the people participating in the raffle; the only rule was that they were supposed to send in a bag of saline of any size with their online handle written on it, then at the end two people would be randomly selected to watch as she filled herself up with all the contents sent to her, a video that would only be made sellable a couple of months later. It was mostly just an excuse for her to avoid having to pay exorbitant prices for another top-up, plus it gave her a reason to invest some money into a portable pump like the one she had now, not to mention it bypassed the slightly inconvenient issue of no respectable doctor being willing to pump her up even bigger than she already was without changing her shells. That wasn’t why she had them installed, after all; the purpose of having implants of that type was precisely to find her limits and then keep going, deliberately stretching them until they broke, only to then keep going like nothing was happening. So long as she could do that, Tara was happy… but she needed outside help if she was to grow more than she already had. The cheetah could barely keep herself together with the amount of excitement coursing through her, their eyes darting to the screen every other second just to check if the two winners had clicked the link to the private stream. Tara had gone to great lengths to ensure the experience would be the best ever for the lucky duo, installing multiple cameras to provide several ideal angles on her “transformation”, with her microphone set up to capture the full breadth of auditory experiences that came with the whole package; getting the multi-cam view to work together with the stream software itself was a nightmare, and her processor certainly agreed from how hard it was complaining about ventilation, but at least it technically worked. It looked like some kind of torture dungeon, but it worked, and that’s what mattered. Tara was just about ready to sit on the chair and turn the pumps on when she heard two familiar boops interrupting her thought process, the sound of a couple of new folks joining the stream. Rushing to her computer screen, the cheetah saw the names she wanted to see, her whole body shaking in anticipation. Should she say something? Should she wait for them to put the first word in? She was so ecstatic for finally being able to get something done that night that she completely forgot she was already broadcasting herself, and the two could perfectly see the cheetah’s nude body jumping from side to side in one of the many camera views being streamed, leading to one them openly chuckling over the line. “Never thought you’d be this happy about it,” they mused out loud, “but I can’t say I’m surprised. You were plenty excited during the raffle, weren’t you honey~?” Tara’s face went bright red at that choice of words, the tone in which they were delivered being enough to get them to stop moving and stare at the screen transfixed instead. She couldn’t quite see who was talking, though their webcam was active; whether it be a trick of the light in their room or some sort of software pulling a veil over her metaphorical eyes, the guest that had just spoken up showed up on the cheetah’s screen as nothing more than a black silhouette, the vaguest hint of two curves to either side of their chest betraying a bust of even greater proportions than her own. The other winner was much the same… at least in lighting; her tits were significantly larger than either of the other two’s, to the point where it was hard to tell where her body was amidst all of that shadow. “Don’t scare her off,” the larger one spoke up, “we don’t want the poor thing to start second-guessing herself.” “Oh please, as if she’s going to turn back now,” the first one replied, “you’ve seen how happy she was about all the saline we sent her, I mean look at her bed! You could fill one of your tits with those many bags!” “Is that a challenge~?” “H-hum,” Tara cut through, attempting to interrupt the dialogue, “so, are you ready for the stream? I can’t really see either of you too well.” “That’s very much intentional, dear,” the ‘smaller’ of the winners purred, “we’d rather not reveal our identities… just yet. We might by the end, but we’ll see.” “Besides,” the other one carried on, “it’s a lot more fun for us to keep an air of mystery surrounding this whole thing. Plays into the whole ‘unknown benefactor’ aesthetic a lot better, it’ll help you sell the video a lot more!” Tara had her doubts about that last sentence, but she couldn’t deny she was enjoying being toyed with; that was half the point of even setting up the raffle in the first place, even if she would never admit to it herself. The cheetah signalled towards the chair, receiving two curt nods from her prized guests, then turned around and began walking towards it; something simple, something straightforward, and something that nonetheless made her legs quiver so much she could barely walk straight at all. The process of preparing the pumps for delivery wasn’t supposed to be as drawn-out as it turned out to be, but it was difficult to keep her focus when all Tara could think about was how all that saline was going to end up directly inside of her bust by the end of the hour. There were so many bags in there that she began wondering if it wouldn’t be a good idea to institute some kind of limit… right before discarding that idea and throwing it into the proverbial rubbish bin, figuring that if she came that far already, she might as well do something completely insane just for the sake of keeping up appearances. Or something like that, thinking while horny wasn’t exactly her forté. One by one she picked up a single bag and walked over to the tank, tearing open the plastic and dumping it into the holding area, feeling it glunk and slorsh its way down before it hit the bottom. It helped to further her arousal in a way she hadn’t thought of before: weight. Every ‘trip’ let her feel how much she was going to pump into her breasts in just a few moments, and some of those bags were, if not ridiculous in size, then practically so, easily big enough that she had her doubts about being able to take just one even in the best of days. The two winners were, perhaps not coincidentally, the ones that had sent her some of the biggest saline boosters, each one big so heavy that Tara needed to use both hands just to stop the lining from tearing itself apart under the strain; the fact that they took several seconds more than the others to empty out didn’t leave her feeling all that comfortable about her chances at making it through the night without some kind of injury, but it also let her know how much bigger she was about to get, and that realization was enough to help her through what remained of her pile. The absolute largest one, however, belonged to neither of the raffle winners; on it, written in thick, blue marker, were the words “With Love, From Cyrie <3”, one of the few people Tara knew by name. It’d be amazing if it weren’t so worrying, seeing as by the time she was done and the tank’s cap went on, most of it was full… and Tara didn’t know if that was amazing or utterly terrifying. Her two guests were silent, keeping their certainly-perverted thoughts to themselves while the cheetah got busy finding some position in which she could both sit comfortably and still have enough room that she wouldn’t be buried by her own bust. In those last few moments, she appreciated the size she had reached already: both breasts were about as large as her head already, full, taut, slightly creaky, and just the right proportions to be near-perfectly spherical. Anyone else would’ve taken one look at them and declared them to either be too big or just big enough. Tara, being as hungry for size as she was, thought none of those things; the only thing going through her mind when she grabbed the two tubes and brought them close to her injector ports was “Not big enough,” a thought that resonated louder and louder as she affixed the pump to herself. The by-then familiar click and slight release of pressure, the machine whirring into action once she turned it on, it was all she wanted to hear; any doubts the cheetah might’ve had about growing even bigger were gone from her mind, replaced with a monstrous desire to become even larger and a complete certainty that things were going to go just fine. The machine itself had three settings, designed to input variable amounts of fluid. As per the agreement in the post-raffle discussion, Tara would keep it on the low setting until it was about a third of the way done, switch to medium for the next third, then hop onto fast for the final stretch. It was highly doubtful she’d make it that far, it being more likely that either the ports gave up and forcefully ejected the tubes or she herself turned the whole thing off, but Tara could still hope; not much else, but hope was still there. As were the vibrations, which quickly displaced anything else that might’ve been in her head; the moment those continuous shockwaves began to crash into her, all Tara could do was let her tongue loll out of her mouth and allow her throat’s desire to moan go completely uncontested, drawing several giggles from her two guests and a few comments on how adorable she looked when overtaken by growthlust. She was barely even started and already she could feel that things were going to be going down a terribly painful route and never coming back. The pressure inside of her chest went from normal to unbelievable in just a few seconds and refused to relent, causing her back to arch outwards and her teeth to nearly bite through her tongue if she hadn’t remembered to retract it; it was like something had been forcefully shoved into her ribcage and was now trying to get out, making it hard to breathe and even harder to think… at least until her body decided to get used to it. The experience was undeniably painful still; in fact, if anyone asked the cheetah, she might just reply with something to the tune of “So tight” or “God, please stop”, but the tone would betray how much she wanted it to keep going regardless: dreamy, punch-drunk, barely coherent, and with her fingers going straight to her bust in order to feel it expand, it would be hard to take their supposed reticence at even face value. Perhaps her brain decided to flip what it was meant to be feeling as a means of protecting itself against what was a terrible decision, but if that were the case, then Tara had just lost the last reason she’d ever had not to go through with the plan to take the whole tank. If that was what it felt like, the overwhelming sensation of built-up pressure followed by her whole body relaxing and endorphins flooding every neuroreceptor she had, then why should she ever stop? At that point, the actual size differences were just a bonus prize! Not that they weren’t a magnificent prize on their own; already the veins on her tits began to grow ever more visible on her stretched skin, the cheetah’s yellowish fur not enough to hide it. What had once been nothing but the faintest hints of creaking now seemed to be the natural state of things; it was like plastic being torn and reshaped, made to deal with forces it wasn’t built to withstand and yet somehow finding a way to do so anyway. Tara knew she was toeing a very dangerous line; she wasn’t bottomless, nor were her shells impervious to harm, not to mention the fact that they were already dangerously close to ultra-max capacity. But she didn’t worry about that; she couldn’t, after all, her mind being too busy appreciating how her flexible body was taking the sudden influx of saline surprisingly well, especially considering how her last top-up had been barely two months prior. Maybe, she thought to herself, she could use this as a springboard for even larger sizes; wait until her breasts “settled” and then head back to the clinic in order to swap them out for ones that could take even more saline than her current pair, thus giving her a reason to do another raffle and continue the cycle of growth! The wheel turned. Her mind tuned in with the whirring, the cheetah feeling it slip further and further away from her control the longer the machine was allowed to keep running. She lost herself long before reaching one third capacity being drained, and considering how that tank was about as tall as her office chair and half as thick… that was a boatload of saline that was still supposed to be pumped into her that she hadn’t even begun to taste. That realization alone would’ve left anyone whimpering and utterly terrified of what they were doing to their body, but not Tara; to her, it was merely a promise of even larger sizes, one she made and fully intended to keep, lest anyone call her something she wasn’t. The two guests had been watching her methodical approach to madness with equal parts amusement and barely-contained excitement, a few notes of arousal dripping into the few words they chose to speak aloud. There wasn’t a lot they could do to influence the chee, seeing as she was already neck-deep inside of a pit of lust she dug for herself, but what they could do was constantly poke and prod at her in ways that only served to further entice her to do things she most likely shouldn’t. For Tara, few things tasted better than proving someone wrong when they told her she couldn’t be “that big”, even if she knew full well it was just a deliberate ploy to get her to push herself even further. It was a polite fiction, and one that barely even stood up to the flimsiest of scrutinies, but it was their fiction, their narrative that they were crafting; that night, Tara was the test subject of two mysterious benefactors who wished to see her bust expand to proportions that would make anyone do a double-take if they saw her on the streets, then continue staring long after it became obvious they were doing so. And she, being “trapped” in that scenario, could do nothing but obey, bringing her hands to her breasts and moaning about as loudly as she could manage without alerting the neighbors. Soon enough, even that level of care no longer applied, and Tara’s throat was starting to ache from how much use it was getting; she was certain that, at some point, someone was going to start banging on the walls or ceiling to demand she quiet down or put a gag on, but she didn’t care. If anything, if anyone did do that it would only serve to heighten the pleasure the cheetah was already feeling from having her tits literally pumped to near-bursting with dangerous amounts of saline; it was all part of the story. “How long do you think before she pops?” the larger of the guests wondered aloud, “Because I’m thinking she won’t last until that tank is halfway done.” “Betting five on her taking the whole thing,” the other one giggled. “You’re insane. Look at her, she’s barely holding on as it is!” “I know Tara, and I know that if there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s surprising people with how much she can pump into her tits. Pretty sure those shells aren’t even supposed to be that large, but you weren’t hearing them creaking beforehand, were you?” “Guess not,” the bigger of the two mumbled, “but still, I can see the veins all the way from here, and I’m pretty sure she’s not even listening, are you Tara?” Indeed, the hostess for the stream wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what the two winners were saying. She could still hear them, and at some level her brain was still processing the information her ears were feeding it, but to truly comprehend anything she was being told meant Tara had to focus away from feeling her breasts expand in every direction, and that was just not something she was ready to do. So much so that the cheetah even forgot not to squeeze her bust; it was a painful enough experience on the best of days, so doing it now that it was being stretched to the limit was bound to have her experience some of the worst agony she ever had in all her years… and while Tara was certain that’s what her neurons were telling her, she couldn’t for the life of her feel anything but the utmost bliss. Every time one of her fingers tried and failed to sink into her skin, every nerve on that patch flared up and told her to stop, only for the cheetah to carry on doing it regardless, finding it to be the most pleasurable experience possible. By that point, her bare breasts were already past the halfway point to her navel, still perfectly round and spherical, producing quite the significant amount of backboob for anyone that might be watching from that angle; indeed, her two guests were commenting on just that, right before the topic changed back to maximum capacities. “Besides, honey, it’s not like she can’t reach absurd sizes, or else you wouldn’t exist,” the feline winner purred once again, “unless you wanna convince me those are natural.” “They aren’t, but they also aren’t your regular implants. Pretty sure she doesn’t have anything like them.” “Maybe not, but I’m still convinced she’ll be able to take them all and keep going like nothing’s happening. Which reminds me… Tara? Tara, honey?” - the cheetah didn’t respond, though the sound of her name being called out subconsciously had her turn her head towards the screen, where she could just barely make out who was supposed to be talking - “I’m pretty sure we’re at the mark where you’re supposed to be going faster, so do us a favour and turn that thing up to medium, will you~?” The chee didn’t know if that was right or if that woman was deliberately toying with her, but at that point she no longer cared. Right or not, all that mattered was that she still had saline in the tank, sloshing from side to side as it was drained, and now that she was given an excuse to go ahead and inflate herself even harder, Tara was going to take it. Of course, reaching the controls proved to be slightly more difficult than she imagined, what with the weights on her chest making movement significantly harder, but she managed; there was a lot of creaking, groaning and a heaping ton of moaning from her end, but she managed. As soon as the lever was adjusted, the whirring became louder and the pressure inside of her, already unbearably high, skyrocketed to levels the cheetah barely had the vocabulary to describe. The pump’s tubes were shaking madly as they struggled to deliver as much saline as possible into a space that was so densely packed that it practically rejected it, while the chair she sat upon joined in with the rest of the things complaining about the weight. Things were quickly spiralling out of control, but rather than try and right her path, Tara kept walking closer and closer towards an end she was increasingly uncertain of. Would she be able to take it all? Her skin was telling her no, her body was telling her no, her mind was telling her no, and yet her spirit kept nodding along and pushing everyone else out of frame, insisting that, against all evidence, she’d be more than capable of taking all of that saline and more, even when her bust reached and covered her navel, dangerously close to plopping onto her lap. Just touching it was enough to set her off, her hands flinching on contact as if handling an open flame, while the rest of her quivered uncontrollably under the relentless onslaught of sensations that were very much starting to erode her sanity. All that Tara knew, at that point, was the whirring, the draining, the constant sensory overload that came with it… and the two voices telling her to keep going, to see how far she could take herself before she could go no longer. Tara was going to show them, she was going to show those two that she meant business, and wasn’t going to take anything less than total perfection for an answer. “I have to say, I might be wrong,” the disbelieving guest piped up, “we’ve crossed that line and she’s still there! Don’t know how much longer she’s going to last before… you know…” “Oh, she’ll last. She’s going to take every last drop of that saline and then beg for more, aren’t you Tara honey?” - the other raffle winner raised her voice with the last few words, to which the cheetah replied by very loudly, and very throatily, moaning for several seconds straight - “See, she’s fine! All she needs to do is hold onto that chair and everything will be alright.” “I wish I knew what those implants were made of, pretty sure the company would hire the manufacturer.” “Or maybe she did get them from some place that sold yours~” “Mine don’t creak that loudly.” Indeed, despite the obvious disparity in size between Tara’s current one and that silhouette’s body-obscuring bust, only one of them was loud enough that it was starting to clip the microphone recording. The cheetah just barely remembered to push the device away before her tits did that for her, and even then it was still so unbearably loud that both of her stream viewers had to turn down their volume just to keep their eardrums from popping. It sounded less like plastic being stretched to capacity and more like metal grinding on metal, being bent out of shape by some unfathomable force; indeed, a few of the chee’s neighbors were starting to wonder just what exactly was going on inside of her house, though judging from how loud the cheetah herself was begging for things to be even bigger, none of them bothered to knock on the door. Too embarrassed to do it. Neither of the two raffle winners had to say anything for the cheetah to bring one of her arms to the machine and slam down on the speed-controlling lever, turning the whole thing up as fast as it could go. The resulting impact was strong enough that her lustful moaning turned into a quick yelp, a scream, and then heavy panting all in quick succession, her hands hovering just inches over the surface of a pair of tits that were now far past pink and straight into red, the poor, overstretched veins perfectly contrasted against the colour and outright begging her to stop. How anything hadn’t ruptured was anyone’s guess, especially after the bottom of her breasts landed heavily onto her lap, then carried on grinding against her body as if it was absolutely nothing; the resulting mess of signals sent by both her bust and her legs was enough to practically knock Tara out, and even after keeping herself awake she was barely lucid enough to realize what was happening to her. The room was filled by the sounds of mechanical whirring and liquid draining, with even the two guests having fallen silent as they watched the spectacle unfolding before them. Though the one that professed her faith in Tara being able to take the whole tank seemed genuine at first, even she had to stare in dumbfounded awe at how “easily” the chee’s body took the saline infusion, enough that both breasts began to spill over from the sides of the chair… after bending the arm rests out of shape, of course. With the machine on maximum blast, it was only a matter of time until either it ran out of juice or Tara herself did. And for a few moments, it did genuinely look like it’d be the cheetah that would find her limits before the pump found its bottom; she was squirming, writhing even, her whole body unable to hold still, be it moving about on her increasingly-unstable seat or shivering uncontrollably, while the pair of saline-stuffed orbs attached to her chest continued to glow with a stronger shade of crimson, their maximum capacity reached, exceeded, tripled and then abused further for the sake of two strangers’ amusement. And yet, Tara never popped; far from it, in fact, as in the last few seconds of her ordeal she instead brought her head back from being craned all the way to where she could use it to surveil the “damage” done by her pumping sessions, greedy eyes glinting even under the light, hands just barely holding back from squeezing those overstuffed balloons. Then, with a final glunk, the machine stopped, its internal measurer letting it know the tank was empty. It was an anti-climactic end for what had been such an intense journey of self-exploration: the tubes clicked, twisted themselves and then decoupled from the ports, which admirably held up most of the saline stuffed into them, only about half a gallon in total slipping out before they closed up. Tara’s bust had become something that… was hard to describe. She couldn’t get up, not after that kind of ordeal, as doing so would just lead to her collapsing forwards and splattering all over the ground. Staying still wasn’t exactly the best long-term strategy, but seeing as her tits were now creaking as loudly as a ship’s hull grinding against an iceberg, there wasn’t a lot more she could do than didn’t run the risk of doing significant damage to her. But she was smiling. It was hard to tell, given how her face was now fully obscured by her boobs, but she was, something just barely visible when using one of the side-cameras. Neither of her guests could believe it, but not only did their precious cheetah take every last bit of saline she was sent (sans the last spillage, but that was arguably justifiable), but she looked… ready for more? That was absolutely a look of hunger stamped on her face, her tongue licking her lips and her eyes narrowed and fixated on her bust. Very carefully, she brought her hands down onto her overstretched skin, wincing multiple times before finally being able to leave them there, rubbing those things in wide, circular motions. She looked so peaceful, so… at home, like it was just a size she was always meant to have. Her chair didn’t seem to think so, but it still held up for the time being, enough that Tara didn’t feel the need to move. The chee looked back at the tank, and even went so far as to remove the cap before rolling it over close to her. She audibly whined after seeing it was empty, just before giving her person-sized tits a good once-over. Her eyes darted from her bust to the bed and then the ripped saline bags, before finally remembering she was being watched. Tara uttered a single word, one that managed to take both of the viewers aback with astounding efficiency: “More?”

The four of them sat at the table in utmost silence. The tension was thick enough that you’d need a butcher’s knife to cut through it, and the eight eyes all around followed the same objects as it flew across the cheap, plastic surface in between them. With a soft clatter, the two dice rolled from one side to the other, their thrower eagerly awaiting the result of their twenty-sided luck… and then immediately going crestfallen when the closest equivalent of snake eyes happened. “That’s a crit fail,” the snow leopard behind the screen sighed, double checking the stats they had noted down, “and I don’t like the odds of you making it through that pit.” “Oh come on, I ​just​ re-rolled this one!” the wolf cried out, having to hold himself back not to pound his fist on the table. “Yes, and you decided to turn what was a perfectly fine barbarian warrior into some kind of weird Japanese kitsune hybrid that has to pass strength checks every time she wants to take a step!” the GM grumbled, giving a once-over to his friend’s character sheet and trying not to make any derisive comments, “You’re lucky I’m not making you take those, otherwise we’d be here all night.” “It’s not my fault she’s pudgy, dude.” “She is literally, and I quote, ‘nine and a half tons of pure, hand-filling, overflowing, oft-sweaty flab’, in accordance with this piece of paper you asked me not to reveal to anyone.” The ensuing bout of giggling was enough to force the wolf to slip underneath the table, practically melting off his chair before his own rotund belly got stuck halfway through. It was no secret that Tom had put a lot of his… “best be kept secret” desires into the new character after their previous one met an unfortunate end at the hands of a butcher carrying more cleavers than brain cells, but everyone at the table politely pretended like it was a genuine attempt at character creation as opposed to some weird sort of self-insert thing. This was, of course, thanks to literally everyone else doing much of the same. The adventure had started off normally enough, with the group using a bunch of premade characters with generic backstories in an effort to speed that part of the game along; while their group leader had ample experience in running tabletop games like those, his friends most certainly did ​not​. It was a favour on the leopard’s part to hand out simple characters like those just to prevent his closest acquaintances from immediately losing interest in the game, figuring that after he got them hooked, it’d be easy to convince them to take the time required to actually develop their PCs. What the snow leopard ​hadn’t​ expected was his closest friends turning out to have a laundry list of fetishes far longer than he had anticipated, and the complete lack of self-restraint required to keep said kinks ​away​ from his meticulously crafted and plotted-out storyline. Even for a seasoned veteran like himself, it was difficult to make an epic adventure in the sword&sandal style when the PCs he was dealing with happened to include a nine-and-a-half-ton vixen, a gigantic half-centaur type creature with a weird fixation on feet, and what had to be the biggest “big bear gay” stereotype he had ever seen in his life; damn bastard had enough hair on him that he felt like brushing every time he picked up the character sheet, to say nothing of the oddly-appropriate dad energy he exhuded in every single NPC interaction. Still no clue how he passed that persuasion roll with a -10 due to his “pec hug”. Nonetheless, he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. He was annoyed, sure; everything he had planned had been derailed and he as the GM had been forced to resort to his seldom-used improvisational skills, rusty from years of being ignored. It wasn’t his strongest suit, nor even his tenth-strongest one; anything that involved coming up with things on the fly inevitably led to his players running laps around him without even trying, stressing his ability to react to unpredicted events to the absolute maximum. It wasn’t an easy style to work with, and he was well aware of it, but he thought that it would be a good introduction to the world of tabletop games until they could find someone else to run something a bit more open-ended and narrative-based. Meanwhile, he had to contend with three people who were far more interested in living out their self-insert fantasies than searching for the lost treasure of Amagarr, or even so much as speaking to the local elder for directions on how to walk out of the desert without dying of thirst. He had to constantly remind them that no, they couldn’t just live off of the kitsune-hybrid’s milk because ​that wasn’t how physics worked​, and neither could the massive taur creature walk on sand like it was nothing when the sun was up and temperatures reached high enough to boil eggs. In fact, the short time they had playing with these “characters” had been riddled with so many faulty assumptions about how things worked and blatant abuses of rules as written that their GM had to enact a desperate control measure in the form of the “Error Jar”: deliberately break a rule to fulfill a kink, throw a dollar in the jar. Things quickly got back on track after that. Despite this, he continued to enable his friends to a degree that even he found surprising; he’d never given ​anyone​ half as much leeway as he did them, even other acquaintances who were starting out, which made it especially worrying that he found himself constantly nodding along, even if he told himself it was just for the sake of getting them into the game. He kept saying that long after it was applicable, even when he caved in and allowed the vixen to milk herself for five gallons of a “smooth, refreshing drink” every day without writing it down, cross-checking with their weight stat or just bothering with the realism of it, really. It was weird. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he did it anyway, and by the ​gods​ did it confuse him every time they left his dorm and he was alone for the night. Lot of weird thoughts swimming in his head. “Maybe your fat ass will be wide enough to plug the hole,” the snake by Tom’s side suggested, “you can’t fall somewhere when your hips are caught on the side.” Tabitha’s comment was spoken in jest, but both the leopard and wolf’s ears perked up the moment she uttered those words; the GM because he knew his friend would actually take that suggestion seriously and demand an extremely complicated dice roll, and Tom because… well, that.​ His eyes lit up at the mere mention of him being able to use his character’s immense body to their advantage in one of the more classic of ways, but before he could even get a single sound out, the leopard lifted a finger and preemptively shut everyone up. “I’m going to allow you a single re-roll. This one time, because I’m genuinely afraid of what you might come up with if I force you to make another character.” “Maybe he can make the next one fifteen tons with five pairs of tits that lactate so much we have to go check if any system has rules for breast pumps.” Much like the snake girl, Samantha’s comment had ​not​ been spoken in earnest, and the badger’s tone was very clear in that regard; if she had the capacity to smile, rather than being stuck in a perpetual, entirely-artificial scowl, she would be grinning like a maniac at the chance of poking fun at Tom’s kinks. As it stood, she delivered those words in the most monotone tone of voice possible, prompting their GM to have to lean over the table and bap Tom across the muzzle to get the idea out of their head. “You have no right to complain, Sam,” the leopard snapped back, “least I have to remind you of the time you asked me if you could ‘milk my Bara pecs for daddy milk’ back in Samera.” It was time for the other two to start giggling at the goth badger, who somehow developed the faintest hint of a blush despite their seeming inability to express any emotion but blank apathy. Her eyes scanned the table and then fixated on her lap, where her two hands crossed and held one another so tightly their knuckles turned white. She wanted to tell them all to shut up and go away, but to do so would be to give away how much their words were affecting her; an impossible prospect. “And before anyone says anything,” their GM added, turning towards the snake, “​you,​ madam, are going to let me curate your search history from now on, because I am ​not​ going to have targeted ads for foot porn thanks to you constantly being on your phone. And yes, I ​know you’re on your phone, and that’s ​incredibly rude​ to everyone else at the table.” There were no giggles that time around, just dejected faces and a very sad snek slithering away to place their phone on the nearest table. By the time she sat back down, coiling her body underneath the chair, the leopard was rubbing his temple and trying extremely hard not to just make the fall happen. “Uhm…” Tom spoke up, mumbling for a bit before his words became comprehensible, “I’ve been rolling nothing but critical failures all night, do you mind if I… do something about that?” “... do what?” the GM sighed. “Well, I brought these dice with me, you see…” Everyone’s faces perked up at those words, including that of the snow leopard, whose never-ending headache at his friends’ shenanigans had just been given an “out” in the form of some mutual nerding out over a cool dice set. He even forgot about what they were doing when he excitedly asked for his friend to bring them out, allowing Tom the reprieve he needed to get his thoughts in order. In truth, the dice in his pocket were a very special set for him; he had cast them himself using a 3D printer that was absolutely his and not at all swiped from work for the express purpose of following some instructions he found online about “infusing” dice with luck via a very precise series of steps that, while obtuse, promised to give every roleplayer the best possible luck they could ever need. Being the oddly superstitious type, Tom bought into the whole thing immediately, ordering up enough resin to print himself a custom set of 20 of those bad boys. It didn’t occur to the wolf that the reason the dice would make him lucky was probably because their weighting was deliberately modified so that higher results were more likely; all he really cared about was that they looked ​really cool,​ and the instructions said that he could then paint them however he wanted, giving him something to do for a few hours while he waited for a separate set to print out, this one meant as a gift to his GM friend once the adventure was over. The other three sitting around them gawked at the brilliantly-crafted and expertly-painted dice case, with Tom looking incredibly embarrassed at how much they were staring at something he’d made with his own hands and stolen equipment. “Those are probably fudged, but I don’t care,” the leopard declared, “roll for agility.” Tom nodded and grabbed one of the d20s, rolling it across the board and silently hoping that all the work put into them would pay off. And, just like in the movies, time seemed to slow down as the small thing teetered on the edge of giving him a result that would doom him to character creation… just before tipping over into an all-natural 20! “Lucky bastard…” the GM mumbled, smiling like an idiot while the table erupted into laughter and cheer. “Lucky dice! ​Lucky dice!​” Tom kept repeating, laughing his ass off and slamming one hand against the table, “Oh ​god​, that was beautiful!” The miniature celebration served as the perfect distraction for the four people at the table, with none of them noticing what had just happened to the wolf’s body right after rolling the nat 20. With him used to being on the chubby side, it wasn’t all that surprising that his shirts had a tendency of running up his torso; but what wasn’t normal was for his baggy stuff, normally reserved for informal meet-ups like those, to suddenly feel so ​tight​ around everything. Tom didn’t give it a second thought, not even when he absentmindedly scratched his belly and found fur instead of fabric… and a lot more fur than used to be there as well. Even while sitting down straight on his chair, his rotund belly still bumped against the table, and the only person to notice it, the ever-taciturn badger, was too busy trying not to be aroused to say anything about it. With the jump over the chasm complete, it was time to move onto the next leg of the adventure. More out of courtesy than anything else, their GM allowed them a perception roll, if only because he wanted to take the opportunity to teach them a lesson about not trying to waste time in a ​literal desert.​ Surprisingly, Tom rolled another natural 20 with his special dice, and while the leopard had to take a couple of minutes to come up with anything of worth to note down, head buried in his papers, the sudden increase in weight that strained the wolf’s chair became noticeable to the other two when Samantha, in a rare instance of her emotions getting the better of her, let out a small squeak! This drew both Tabitha and Tom’s eyes to the latter’s body, who had very clearly ballooned with enough extra pudge that he had been pushed away from the table and had his chair scrape along the floor hard enough to leave marks. The wolf sat there staring at his immenseness, wondering just where all that belly had come from… before making the mistake of bringing both of his hands to it, feeling how his fingers sank into his softness, and flustering the goth badger so much that she failed her willpower check and brought both hands to her mouth, having to stifle so many moans and lewd comments that her façade of uncaring apathy completely broke apart. Tabitha wanted to say something in order to tease her, but figured it was better to see what their GM would say once he looked up. “So, you see a bunch of vultures out in the distance, circling in the air,” the leopard made up on the spot, throwing his notes behind him, “so you think there might be a… cor…” His words trailed off when he saw what had happened to his friend Tom. He was very easily twice his original size, maybe even more, openly groping his flabby rolls and enjoying it far, ​far too much. To his side, the goth badger was clearly rubbing her legs together, and on the other the snake girl was obviously trying to come up with a snarky comment. “You need to lay off the milk, dude,” the GM chuckled, causing Samantha to belt out a short-lived moan that forced every eye on her. The blush was luminescent enough to be seen through both the hands she used to cover her face, and so uncharacteristic that it held everyone’s attention until she waved them off, “anyway, let’s keep going.” The game progressed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened; Tom continued to use his special dice, growing wider and heavier every time they landed on a nat 20, which was so suspiciously often that their GM began wondering if he shouldn’t be doing something to stop it. The dice were either deliberately fudged or just poorly-balanced, and the resulting slew of unnaturally good results was threatening to completely derail a story that was already straining to remain in the same country as the railway company itself… but everyone was having such a great time that the snow leopard just couldn’t bring himself to stop it. Tom in particular was loving whatever it was that was happening to his body, Samantha was consistently failing to hide how much her friend’s fattening was arousing her, and Tabitha just hung out by the side, occasionally taking a peek underneath the table to check if her friend’s chubby paws happened to be gaining mass in an equal measure to the rest of him. The snake wasn’t at all disappointed. It became obvious as time passed that the wolf was becoming a reflection of his own PC; gaining weight was one thing, but Tom’s fur colour was steadily changing to match the “radiant, golden-hued, silky-smooth” fur of the hybrid vixen he was so happy to play. The badger by his side was just barely keeping her hands away from it, occasionally sneaking them a few inches closer in the hopes of grabbing a handful right before the special dice landed on a 20 again, and she had to flinch not to have that rotund belly overflow from her timid fingers. It was obvious that Tom would outgrow the table they were sitting against. Barely half an hour had passed since he brought his special set out and his chair had already snapped, forcing him to sit on his considerably-sized ass; it was a testament to how wide it was that the wolf was still eye-level with everyone else, even ending up a little taller after a few more rolls. With the elephant in the room growing ever more impossible to ignore, it was down to whoever broke first to call attention to the fact that their friend was turning into their self-insert. It was probably no longer correct to even call him a ​he​ at all, not after his moobs swapped their “m” with a “b” and started to leak profusely, streams of pure white running down their sides and onto the ground, pooling by their immense thighs and threatening to start flowing out of the door. Their tail as well had split into multiple identical copies, each far fluffier than it had been before and long enough to wrap around their owner’s gigantic belly; not that they’d be able to in practice, as they seemed to inherit the same kind of excessive pudge that permeated every other layer of Tom’s body. Tom himself (or was it Cynthia, the vixen-kitsune?) was unashamedly enjoying himself to the fullest, openly groping his new breasts and trying to stuff them in his face, only failing thanks to it being more or less buried in his bulging neck fat. Any outside observer would probably put their money on Tabitha or their GM being the ones to do something about their friend taking up a good third of the room and having become immobile thanks to their vast girth, but it was Samantha, whose carefully crafted exterior had collapsed like the cheap coat of paint it was, that finally put an end to the shenanigans… by reaching out to grab the special dice herself. It was obvious what was happening, and she wanted some of it, even if no one at the table quite knew how the hell it was all working. “M-mind if I use these?” she sheepishly requested, paws hovering over a couple of the dice. It was hard for her to look Tom (Cynthia?) in the eye, their mere presence being enough to make her want to change her underwear, “I-I think they’re lucky…” It was a nonsense excuse, they all knew it, their GM it, and yet they all allowed it anyway. Tabitha was too busy trying to play footsie with the growing vixen, the snow leopard was desperately attempting to keep his growing erection from showing, and Sam… well, Samantha was the one starting the whole thing. She probably thought she’d be allowed to ​pick up​ the dice of her own accord, and thus wasn’t ready for Cynthia to give her a special treat; the badger had expected her to be too far gone in her own little world to react to any outside stimulus outside of rolling for more fat, and was therefore quite surprised when one of the kitsune’s tails slammed against the table, very nearly breaking it in half when its full weight was brought to bear. The bloated appendage still somehow wrapped itself around the set of dice and plopped itself onto Samantha’s lap, ​also​ straining her chair’s ability to stay up and turning the badger’s face so red that it was probably burned into her from that point forward. She got to experience the tubby roll slithering off of her, its heft leaving her experiencing some kind of existential drain when no longer in contact with her; for a moment, she knew heaven, and its name was Cynthia. She ​needed​ some of it. Contrary to any proper etiquette, the snow leopard decided to continue the adventure-turned-self-indulgent-fanfic; unbeknownst to the three players, their GM wasn’t as stoic as he liked to pretend to be, and beneath the harsh admonishments and occasional jabs at his friend’s competence (or lack thereof), there lay a mind that contained just as many hidden desires as everyone else’s. Granted, his were… probably not as exaggerated as his friends’, but they were still there; nothing better in his imagination than to take a few traits from the opposite sex and blend them with his own, crafting for himself the perfect fusion of the best of both worlds. It would come as a surprise to the folks at the table that his own search history was chock-full of search queues with the word “herm”, and part of the reason for him to carry on with the session was the distant hope of getting to play with the magical dice himself. His players came first, though. The snow leopard was the one to suggest that Tabitha start using the specially-crafted set as well, mostly out of curiosity for how a snake would turn into a dragon-taur with paws big enough to fill the whole room; would be interesting to see how that would play out when Tom-Cynthia was approaching the “half of the room in volume” milestone. The adventure continued and so did the dice rolls, nat 20 after nat 20 resulting in all three players being increasingly morphed into a form approaching that of their characters. Samantha, being the only one whose self-insert matched her species, merely had to grow an extra couple of feet in both height and fur depth, their hirsute self overflowing the table and covering everything in their immense tufts of hair, giving her (him?) the perfect excuse to sink their paws into it and have them vanish, conveniently being able to turn her breasts into her character’s “big buff Bara daddy pecs”... which were still completely covered by their floof, an astounding feat considering how much bigger they themselves were becoming, probably getting closer to Samantha’s dream of producing her very own “daddy milk” than she had intended. Underneath the table, the snake girl in front of them had to contend with a cock that insisted on intruding upon her personal space, long enough to poke at her coils and already throbbing so hard as to shake their miniatures off the table. Any other sane GM would’ve ended it then and there, but seeing as how the leopard was already taking the opportunity to give that massive rod a good rubdown with his paws under the increasingly-unstable table, ​sanity​ was no longer a concern for anyone involved. All that was left was for Tabitha to experience some of the goodness herself, which came far quicker than they could’ve imagined after the snake girl all-but yanked the dice away from the Samantha-turned-Bill, having to power through the immense desire to succumb to the enormous Bara hunk’s voice when he weakly protested against it; it seemed like the massive badger’s rumbling tones resonated ​just​ perfectly with everyone’s most sensitive spots, sparking such lust-crazed thoughts in their heads that even the normally-composed GM was openly groping his friend’s thick coating of fur, all concern for the story gone out the window and the previously-railroading leopard now more interested in indulging his friends. Taby’s own series of unnaturally lucky rolls provoked the greatest, most drastic change yet; while the kitsune-vixen only needed a split tail, extra weight and a new coat of paint, and the badger only really required about half a ton of muscle and three warehouses of fur, the snake girl had to change into a radically different species and completely alter her bone structure to fit with her character’s tauric design. Her friends worried that it would turn out too painful to bear, but the sounds that came out of their throat whenever she threw a 20 around were far too obscene for them to hold onto that thought; with her long coils thickening and developing the muscle required to support her weight, as well as four powerful legs sprouting in two pairs, Tabitha made her arousal known to everyone when she upended the table and scattered the board and the pieces on it over the kitsune’s fat rolls, effectively ending their session there and then. For a moment, everyone looked at the snow leopard, whose busy, cock-rubbing paws became visible for all to see. The three players probably expected him to put a stop to their little orgy of self-indulgence, but rather than complain, the leopard instead leaned forward and wrapped his upper body around the badger’s engorged shaft, it having grown enough that their GM could very literally hold onto it with his whole body and still have room to spare, something he was happy to test in practice. With Tabitha free from any interference, and without the need for a story to justify rolling any dice, it was down to her throwing those things around with abandon, her body shifting and changing into a form unrecognizable to anyone but the snake girl herself: large enough that it barrelled through the wall behind her and the ceiling over their head, sufficiently heavy to cave the floor in and have her fall a couple of stories before her colossal paws found solid ground to work with. Despite how far she’d fallen, her head was still on the same floor as her friends, except obviously it took up enough space to actually ​be​ most of the floor in and of itself; this gave the other three a perfect view of her eyes rolling into her skull when the combined sensation of her hulking taur body rubbing against the building ​and​ the four truck-sized paws feeling every last bit of the debris she had created all conspired to overload her pleasure centers and send her careening off the edge and into what had to be the most powerful climax of her entire life. No one had even gotten near her nethers; hell, with her hands being even bigger than the paws she was shamelessly rubbing against one another, Tabitha knew that they were more than able to pleasure themselves to a degree most people wouldn’t even be able to understand. But the sheer act of ​being​, of ​having​ that body, was in itself enough to make her legs quiver and her lower lips to erupt in a veritable geyser of her femcum, taking care of whatever was left of the building behind her. By the end, if they thought the kitsune was massive, they’d have to redefine what that word meant when the taur-dragon ended up blocking the sun and easily picking up what was left of the building in her two colossal hands. But amidst the ruins of their old place, there was one person that hadn’t gotten into any of the fun. Samantha became her Bara-Badger, Tom was happily milking himself for even more fat and Tabitha… well, Tabitha was special, and would probably need someone of equal size to stop her from moaning loud enough to make windows shatter. But their friend, their GM, was still the same-old leopard he’d always been. Sure, he was happily rubbing himself against a cock that was bigger than him, but it felt unfair for all of them to have turned into their perfect selves while the person that enabled all of that remained as mundane as ever before. It took the badger forcefully ripping him from his member and plopping him down on what was left of the floor for the snow leopard to fall back to reality, after which it was a simple matter of shoving the dice onto his hands for him to know what had to happen. To his credit, their GM had retained enough of their composure to aim for exactly what they wanted and nothing more. Only a few dice rolls were required to bring them to where they needed to be, filling out their curves below the waist, thinning their shoulders out a bit and redistributing some of that mass to their chest; with their shirt thus filled out and the bulge in their pants at least three times as large as it had been before, the newly-minted herm handed the dice back to kitsune… and went right back to giving the Bara daddy’s cock all the love it deserved. The badger, meanwhile, got up and turned towards the kitsune-vixen, eager to finally cut loose and give both their bodies a test-drive, all while the looming giant of a taur-dragon continued to rub her paws together after collapsing onto her side, gently placing the building’s wreckage on the ground so her hands could go be busy elsewhere where they were more needed. It was only about five in the afternoon, after all. Plenty of time to have some more fun.

Seeing that fat ass of theirs billow outwards from that chair almost made it worth all the time spent waiting for it to come sit on her instead. Almost. Kers was happily ignoring her duties as her partner’s partner and instead wasting her time playing something with a bunch of people that weren’t within fucking range, therefore making it a poor investment of her limited resources as far as the other cat cared; why exactly her lover chose to spend hours running through the exact same motions rather than doing something more productive like, say, filling a certain feline up with cum, was anyone’s guess but hers. Hips didn’t really understand it, didn’t bother to ask, and had no intention of developing any interest for it; all she knew was that the voidcat wasn’t fucking her at all times and then making more time in the day in which to pump her even more full of spunk, and that was just an objective waste. Therefore, the best solution, at least in her mind, was to storm into her bedroom, ignore how delectable her wide load of an ass looked when it was being squeezed into a much-too-small chair, and instead pull the latter back far enough for the voidcat’s headphones to be ripped from her head. This had happened so many times before that Kers didn’t even react to it beyond lifting her eyebrows, probably wondering whether or not she should try and let her guild members know she’d be… indisposed of for a short while. The two cats stared one another down for a few seconds before Kers dragged herself back towards the desk, having to be careful not to let her tits spill onto it when readjusting the keyboard, not even dignifying the pathetic attempt at intimacy with a response. Hips, being quite used to that reaction as well, did her best to try and get in front of her lover, with the predictable result of smushing their exaggerated curves together; it used to be that having their tits pressed against one another was enough to kickstart several hours of carefree, mindless lovemaking, but now it seemed like she had to work increasingly harder just get the other cat’s attention away from whatever else she a took a fancy to. Perhaps it was a bit greedy to expect the purple one to only have eyes for her and drop whatever they were doing whenever their lover felt like she needed a good railing, but if that was wrong, then Hips didn’t want to be right; whatever happened to them literally breaking through the boundaries of physics and dimensional geometry just to indulge in their mutual love for obscene proportions? Kers was thinking the exact same thing, yet couldn’t help but feel intensely confused at why her partner insisted on seeing things linearly; the two of them had spent so long inside pocket realities where time was barely even a thing that, surely, Hips should’ve learned by now that they could fuck one another like rabid bunnies for a literal eternity whenever they damn well wanted. And yet, it was always so urgent with her, always like it was the last thing they’d ever do and the two needed to get down to business as quickly as possible; Hips had forgotten the value of doing something other than getting a good stuffing, though to be perfectly fair to her, Kers herself had spoiled her with the sheer amount of times such a stuffing took place. It was a careful balancing act the two engaged in, which inevitably ended in either Kers sighing and leaving the other feline insensate on a belly stuffed with her potent seed, or Hips storming off and forgetting that time was literally their plaything and she should get a hobby. Not that day though; the calico had convinced herself that she was going to get her way and Kers was going to relent. She wouldn’t be leaving that room without being speared on that twenty-inch cock with the watermelon-sized orbs beneath them slapping heavily enough against her to leave bruises, if it was the last thing she did; and judging from Kers’ murderous stare, that was well on its way to stop being a metaphor. At no point did the voidcat say anything to the tune of “Get off” or “You’re blocking the view”, but it was clear from her expression that she wanted to say just that and so, so much more. Instead, she crossed her arms above her bust and waited, wanting to know what her partner would be doing next. Once again the two engaged in a contest of who could go the longest without blinking, which ended roughly three seconds later when Hips finally said something. “You’re going to turn me around and shove that cock in me. Right now,” she demanded, pointing down to between Kers’ bare legs, “or so help me I’m going to drag you back into our den and strap you to the bed myself!” “And then what?” was Kers’ nonchalant response. “... a-and then wh-what do you mean?” - the voidcat’s responses never failed to confuse her partner - “Then I’m going to ride you dry, that’s what!” “I dunno Hips, that sounds pretty boring,” Kers chuckled dismissively, “I’d rather be playing my game, which if you wouldn’t mind, your tits are kind of in the way of.” “Oh, you’re one to talk! I’ve seen you making yours bigger over the last week, don’t pretend like you weren’t!” - Hips punctuated this accusation by unceremoniously slapping one of her partner’s breasts, leading to quite a bit of shared jiggle between the two. “They’re exactly the same size they’ve been for the past six months. You’re imagining things, much like I am imagining myself playing my game, which is currently behind your tits, if you wouldn’t mind?” “Urgh! You’re impossible at times!” Despite the outbursts, the calico did get up and started pacing around the room, giving her lover-to-be an opportunity to get her headphones back and adjust them onto her ears, smiling a wide smile and soon apologizing to everyone over her “slight interruption”. The other cat, now walking in circles behind Kers’ chair, was running through every possible scenario in her head, all the way from forcefully pulling the other feline back to… well, grovelling and hoping to get a pity fuck like those other six or seven times. None of those were good plans by their sheer nature; it was never as good of an experience unless both of them were fully into it, and it seemed as if the voidcat was far more interested in smashing buttons to trigger macros than she was in smashing her cock against various offices. Of course, that was only because her attention was diverted, it had to be; that was the only reasonable explanation Hips could find for her being able to resist feeling their bosoms smushing together like they had been, though now that she thought about it… Kers did seem awfully intent on getting some distance between them after having had their their chests pressed together, something she rarely did; most of the time it was just passive-aggressive quips about how fat Hips was and how much she spoiled them, but this time the other cat seemed to want the two of them to be away from one another. Surely, or at least what passed for surely inside of Hips’ deranged, sex-crazed mind, this could only mean that Kers’ stony facade was just that: a facade. Deep below that well-trained apathy had to be burning a yearning desire to take her partner and fuck them raw against a wall, to then make a mess of the whole place after filling them up past capacity, there had to be! And there was one way to find that out. Hips walked up to the chair again, with Kers carefully monitoring their movements via the calico’s reflection on the screen she was staring at. Those headphones of hers didn’t last too long after having her partner’s tits unceremoniously dropped onto her head, completely covering most of her face and leaving them surrounded with a brand new noise, that of roiling currents of whatever it was Hips was producing that day; seemed thicker than usual, so she was probably going for some kind of cream again, but one could never tell. The voidcat did nothing, choosing to remain perfectly stationary in the hopes that the other cat could go away, but her body betrayed her in a way nothing else could; Hips could barely contain herself when she saw it happening right below her nose, licking her lips at the sight of that oddly-misplaced canine cock swelling the longer her tits were wrapped around its owner’s head. It pulsated and throbbed as blood was pumped down into it, the nuts beneath it clenching tightly and pre already bubbling from its tip. Soon enough it was rising towards her, ready to smear the bottom of Kers’ tits with her own juices… and yet the voidcat held, hands trembling but not moving closer to her shaft, her moaning conspicuously absent. Not that it mattered; now that Hips knew she was having an effect on them, it was easy enough to relinquish her hold on the other feline and push her chair back, giving them plenty of room for the calico to, without any warning, drop herself onto Kers’ lap. There wasn’t a lot of space on there, and given they were both completely naked then it was only natural that the voidcat’s twenty-inch beast had a very eager slit straddled up against it, and an even more eager feline making whorish noises as she stared down at a cock she really, really wanted to take into herself. “Are you done slobbering all over yourself?” Kers snapped back, trying and failing to keep her tone stable, “Because I had a game I was playing.” “Oh, I know of a better one we could be spending our time on,” Hips replied, her voice melting about as quickly as her decency. “Hips, I swear to god, you’re so thirsty I don’t understand how you even function, now get off me!” “Me? Thirsty?” - Kers immediately picked up on her very poor choice of words - “I don’t think you understand what you’re talking about, I’m not the thirsty one here~!” Without warning, Hips lunged forwards and shoved one of her nipples inside of the other cat’s mouth, who for all of her protestations and complaining, immediately succumbed to the allure of having something that fat and soft pushed against her face. It activated something within her that took over, a primal need to drink greedily from that source, whatever it was that flowed from it; and wouldn’t she know it, her guess was completely right, with the substance pouring from within Hips’ breast being very thick, almost syrupy in consistency, and tasting distinctly of chocolate. It was a cheap shot, and a blatantly unfair one at that, but Kers couldn’t resist; it was her favourite after all, and being given such ample amounts of it from where she was nursing from at the time just made it impossible not to keep gorging herself on it. Her throat was bulging out with each mouthful, thin trickles of it falling onto her chin as even the greedy cat’s tongue couldn’t lap everything up. The two remained there for goodness knows how long, and Kers quickly figured out this was quite intentional, with Hips having brought her full power to bear on the two of them. The longer the voidcat drank from that one breast, the more cream it seemed to produce, and a quick, exploratory look revealed that it was taking up more and more of her field of view the longer it went on; not to be outdone, Hips’ other milk factory was in full flow as well, bulging outwards with backed-up production even while a waterfall of thick cream fell from her swollen teat, staining the ground with its thick bounty. And it wasn’t just the calico having her body be enhanced, but Kers as well; while her cock remained roughly the same size, the same could not be said for her pendulous orbs, which appeared to pack on extra weight with each and every gulp, until the purple feline was feeling them press against the insides of her legs, only driving her need to empty them out even further. By the time they were done (or rather, when Hips bothered to pop her nipple out of Kers’ mouth), the calico’s tits had bloated enough that they covered most of her torso and absolutely buried her lover in their girth, while the voidcat’s nuts were so overengorged that she could barely think of anything else other than finding the nearest hole and filling it as quickly as possible… just as Hips figured. It didn’t take too long before the chair had been completely destroyed by its occupant flying off it without bothering to brace properly, with the calico finding herself thrown against the ground and then flipped around so her enormous milkers were being smushed against it. Kers stood behind her, hands digging into her lover’s rotund cheeks as her twenty-incher throbbed harder than ever before, eager to finally get something productive done that night. Normally, the two of them didn’t immediately dive into it; there was a certain art to their relationship, a want for foreplay that usually resulted in them edging one another for hours before finally going off the deep end and spending days at a time finding new and inventive ways of flaring their sensory nerves. On that particular occasion, however, with the amount of priming done by and to one another, as well as the sudden surge of growth the likes of which neither of them had played around with for months… well, it was hard to resist. Hips yelped in surprise once she felt the full brunt of Kers’ shaft split her cheeks apart and ram itself into her tailhole, sending shockwaves surging through her enormous ass; the voidcat seemed to enjoy it, seeing as her eyes were fixated not on the tight, inviting hole she was thrusting into, but on the mounds of delectable fat surrounding it, giving those things a few heavy slaps that drew further throaty noises from her lover. Hips, meanwhile, was still reeling from being thrown off her partner’s lap and onto the floor, as well as the realization that her bust was now big enough that she could use it as a set of pillows; every motion, every pumping, every bucking of the hips on the purple feline’s part provoked a reaction from those things, spurts of thick cream flying several inches off in front of her, Hips’ own hands digging heavily into her bloated bosom. Whatever happened now, she was going to get a filling at least thrice as large as the one she’d just given her lover, and when that happened… … well, she was inventive. She was sure she’d come up with something. As was normal with the two of them, the bedroom they were in began to melt around them, turning into an indiscernible, unfocused mess of colours and shapes that swam in front of their eyes for a few seconds before bits and pieces of it began solidifying in sequence. The walls were taller and wider, giving them more room to play in, the desk and computer setup were gone, as was most of the furniture, replaced with a single, colossal bed on which the two of them were already on, the cold ground replaced by soon-to-be-stained sheets and a comfortably soft mattress; it was merely a formality, given they would probably be either outgrowing that thing or just flat-out destroying it, but it was a nice touch on Kers’ part nonetheless. The voidcat seemed to be enjoying herself, given the bright grin and flashing of fangs, as well as the strength and speed put behind every thrust; like a switch had been turned on inside of them, the purple feline turned into a primal, animalistic version of themselves, more concerned with getting their spunk pumped into their lover than anything else. As for Hips, there wasn’t a lot she could do but lie there and take it, which is precisely what her whole plan had been to begin with; there was nothing more in her mind beyond that point, and frankly she had expected to need far more encouragement than was actually necessary; now that her lover had been broken (or, perhaps, allowed herself to cut loose for a while), her fantasies could get right back on track without the need for her involvement. Of course, while that would be interesting and enjoyable, there really was nothing like active participation, and seeing as she too had some of the reality-warping powers her partner did, it was only fair that the calico do something to spice up their encounter. It had to flow naturally, had to fit into the narrative they had woven for themselves, the one that started at some point in the past where neither of them were as curvaceous as they were today, back when she herself was, comparatively, absolutely miniscule compared to the hot piece of ass she was today. Her tits were already bloated, but they could be more bloated, courtesy of Kers herself providing the best possible medium for such a transformation: their cum. The voidcat was nowhere near orgasm, but her juices were nonetheless already in full flow, skipping her slick pre and going straight for a near-continuous stream of spunk that spurted in every direction whenever her cock gave Hips’ slit the slightest bit of room for spillage; in fact, judging from the amount of gurgling and aggressive clenching going on with her partner’s nuts, the calico could only assume that Kers had the same idea as she did, and close observation (or at least as close as being railed against a bed by a savage beast allowed) let her know that the very same cum factories that were bloating her belly were, themselves, growing outwards with each pumping of their fluids. And if that was true, then it was only fair she herself pay back in the same manner. It was easy enough to take the flood of seed pouring into her and turn it into something far more palatable and relevant for their interests; in fact, having done so in the past, it was a simple case of matching her rhythm to Kers’ before allowing her body to “reprocess” all of that delicious protein into more hand-filling fat, all while still keeping enough of it around to round out her belly. Hips’ breasts, already full to bursting from the inordinate amounts of thick, chocolate-flavoured cream they were made to produce, began to plump up whenever the voidcat slammed into her, as if the thrust itself was diverting extra mass into the calico’s bust, which spurted its contents further and further away the more they were forced to bloat outwards. Both tits made for some wonderful pillows as well; they were soft, almost impossibly so given how heavily they were stuffed, with just the right amount of give that Hips could lean on them without triggering a full release… this was, of course, a moot point, given that each of Kers’ motions grinded her so heavily against the bed that the calico’s full weight was bearing down on her bosom every second or so, creating periodic showers of thick, cocoa-coloured cream that did absolutely nothing to empty those milkers out in the slightest. It was something the both of them had enjoyed doing in the past multiple times before, and now that Hips had an opportunity to indulge in it again, she was going to (literally) milk it for all it was worth. While this was going on, Kers was still trying to find her footing, with the room they were in remaining just fluid enough that minor adjustments could be made to it: a stronger, more reinforced bed, a thicker mattress, less sheets, all of it designed to make sure her claws could sink into whatever surface they were on, giving the voidcat the best platform from which to fuck the other feline with as much gusto as she desired. It was almost impossible for her to avoid changing herself while doing so; the two’s relationship was one based heavily on exploring their own limits, hence why their “house” could be better described as a dimensional knot with no set volume, and it wouldn’t be the first time they went so far overboard that even Kers’ ability to stretch the definition of “distance” was strained. Going at it like a pair of animals in heat and coming out the other end looking like they’d been given full sets of implants all over was a normal occurrence for them; hell, it was the reason she herself had just as wide an ass and massive chest too, to say nothing of the pair of nuts that used to be size of watermelons just five minutes prior. It was instinctual, in a way, for her to let them fill up far more than they could take, and since she wasn’t all that much into bursting, the only way to “fix” the overfilling issue was to just let those things grow to accommodate the cum she hadn’t yet generously donated. Of course, this just led to more of it being produced, which then required more space, and before she knew it Kers was carrying a set of small-scale yoga balls, stuffed to the brim with her spunk, slamming into her lover’s ass whenever she bucked her hips forward, the vibrations from it causing both of their bodies to jiggle obscenely. Much like each thrust made Hips’ breasts bloat, so too did every motion force Kers’ balls to find more room to deal with all of their productivity. It was a vicious cycle that would only break when she hit her limit and kept going, climax alone being able to finally empty those monsters out; it’d probably result in them being stretched out to an even larger size when fully empty compared to what they had been before, which itself would rapidly turn into yet another excuse for Hips to constantly lust over her, and so forth ad infinitum; the voidcat was practically counting the days until she had to make herself taller just to deal with all of the “enhancements” being in that relationship gave her. In the meantime though, she could focus on just ramming her twenty-incher into that eager slit and letting the sights drive her to ever greater heights of arousal, seeing as Hips was more than happy to provide a show for her. The calico was no longer in control, having relinquished it to her muscle memory and lizard brain; the instructions were there and easy to follow, allowing her to give up trying to make sense of anything and just enjoy the ride as she filled up like a very heavy balloon. Her tits were already immensely huge, enough that a single one could easily cover her entire upper body, and despite her best efforts, their contents had been… contaminated. Tapping into so much of her partner’s fluids had left her unable to maintain the level of purity of her chocolate-flavored cream, which grew lighter and streaked with white as time went on; it was a conflict between her own body and the substance she was using to fuel it, with the end result being a pair of tits so big that she was lifted off the bed thanks to both them and Kers wrapping her arms around the calico’s legs before lifting them up. Hips’ belly too was something beyond stuffed, with the cat looking far past the point of being gravid; if anything, that was a whole litter in there, and had been for several months more than they should, providing a second point of contact with the bed below her. Hips could taste it as well, lapping at the bottom of her throat, and brought both hands to her mouth to stop the flow from piercing her all the way through, only for globs of the stuff to spurt from between her fingers, sticky white oozing down onto her front. She had become little more than a cum dumpster, a thing that Kers could thrust into and use as a fucktoy while on full release, a thing whose purpose was to be fucked raw and then filled until she was nothing more than a blimp full of spunk… and she loved that notion. It was perfect for her, exactly what she desired! The bed underneath them continued to creak ominously as more and more weight was added onto the two growing felines atop it, the constituent frame being remodelled every minute or so to account for how much it was having to deal with; the perks of being the dimensional lord of their very own pocket reality allowed the voidcat to adjust their surroundings to best suit their needs, but even she had to admit that it was getting ridiculous after a point. Hips’ body was becoming its very own bed by that point, and Kers’ claws would be better fit digging into some solid ground… and besides, judging from what was going on in front of her, the purple feline had her doubts about the current amount of space being at all sufficient. Again the room melted into some sort of abstract painting before solidifying once more, the two of them transported into one of their favourite spots: the hot springs… or rather, a spot of empty ground right outside of them, seeing as the calico’s cumgut was already big enough to fill up the pool all by itself. A beautiful blue sky waited above them, with nothing in their way but the occasional, easy-to-snap tree and some distant cliffs that marked the edge of that playground; plenty of room to bloat in. So bloat they did. Kers had nothing else left in her but the instinctual drive to keep bucking her hips until some line was crossed, while Hips was so far gone that her hands had fallen by her side, quite conveniently ending up flat against the curvature of her own tits, while her tongue lolled freely from her open mouth, cum periodically flowing from it whenever the shockwave of the voidcat’s impacts crossed through her whole body. The purple cat was dragging her nuts on the ground by that point, the two orbs so full that Kers’ cock was having trouble dealing with their production, quickly reaching the breaking point where the sheer amount of backed-up fluids was itself becoming a source of arousal, while the calico’s bust was alternating between full-pressure blasts of cum and her own, deliciously-thick creamy bounty. Their bodies were warped, altered and changed with each passing second, the two felines embroiled in one another in ways they hadn’t experienced in… however long it had been since the last time they lost control over themselves. Could’ve been days, years or even minutes since Hips first stormed into her partner’s room a few minutes prior, time no longer a constraint; what mattered was that Kers was still pumping the other cat full, said cat was oozing from practically every orifice, and orgasm was approaching very quickly. Still took long enough that the calico managed to blank out before the voidcat did, at which point all bets were off; their body was on autopilot, which meant more bloating from her cumgut was directed at her chest, all while Kers was practically begging her own physical form to finally let go and them experience some semblance of release, especially given the immense size of her own nuts that, somehow, were still filling up despite how bulged out her cock had become as well; the underside of it had to inflate just to deal with the increased flow, and yet somehow it still wasn’t enough! She needed climax, she needed release, and each thrust became less an exercise in pleasure and more of a supplication for all of it to be over, which somehow only ended up leaving her more hot and bothered than before. She was overloading, overheating, running on far too much overclocking and about to collapse from the strain… until finally, after what felt like hours, the voidcat finally felt it clicking inside of her, and nothing else existed. All that ever was, all that she ever could be, was captured in that moment when Kers hilted herself inside of Hips, all of her length pushed into her lover’s nethers, her knot popping out in just the right moment to keep her well and truly stuck inside of the other feline. With her tip pressing against the calico’s cervix, it was time for the floodgates to open, and those immense orbs squishing against and around her legs to empty out. Of course, for Hips, this was just more of the same; more cum to divert to bloating her tits, more spunk to expand that colossal belly that had already forced both her and her lover off the ground… this moment was Kers’, not the calico’s, a long series of minutes where the purple kitten could finally, finally let loose and relieve herself of the pressure that had been building up for so long, all while the cumgut the two of them were riding on grew larger and larger, until it, and the cumflated pair of tits pushing down on it, were all the two could even see or care about. An indeterminate amount of time later, Kers collapsed forward, her own, comparatively miniscule bust cushioning her fall against Hips’ back. The two of them could barely breathe in the heavy, warm atmosphere, once more having taken the voidcat’s ability to expand her pocket dimension to the very limit. But they didn’t care, at least not then; they had each other, they had all the time in the universe… … and now they had a prolonged milking session to look forward to.

It was another monotonous day at work, and the only reason Rose wasn’t losing her mind was precisely because she was so utterly bored that very little actually registered with her at all. She was supposed to be getting work to do, but after wrapping up her tasks for the day about two hours prior and getting absolutely no reply from her direct superior, there was little for the vixen to do beyond sit in her cubicle and pretend to do something useful while actually browsing the internet for whatever random thing happened to catch her attention. It was more mechanical than anything else at that point; she was scrolling through whole pages and opening up over twenty tabs at once without really paying attention to anything in particular, leaving her eyes glazed over and unfocused. The only saving grace was that her workspace was in a corner of the main office area, making it a rarity for anyone to wander close enough to her to actually see what she was looking at. As long as she occasionally checked her email for any official communications, Rose could probably spend the rest of her day doing sweet fuck-all and still get paid for it… and paid quite well, hence why she hadn’t looked for any alternatives despite spending most of her days not really doing anything of worth. At the very least, it gave her plenty of opportunities to stumble onto less-than-reputable websites whenever she clicked somewhere that she really shouldn’t, or whenever her workplace’s filters failed to catch something in their draconian web. Very rarely, something interesting actually popped up to catch her attention that wasn’t yet another trope page being created or some random comic that she felt interested enough to binge on, and while most of the time it was perfectly innocuous, on occasion… it really wasn’t. Very rarely did Rose get to think about her kinks while on the clock, usually having better things to do, but after one of the banner ads on the page she was looking at began displaying a selection of models with, quite frankly, egregiously oversized breasts in extremely provocative poses, the vixen snapped back to reality and instinctively looked around her to check if no one was looking. The images had provoked an innate, gut reaction in her, one that she very rarely, if ever, got to feel while working, and one which was normally reserved for her private hours at home, when Rose could close the door to her bedroom and enjoy herself in peace. For a moment, she figured she’d imagined it; there was no way that her workplace’s internet filters had allowed actual pornographic material to slip through, much less the kind of excessive, size-related kink material that the vixen believed she saw. Yet the more she kept looking at the banner ad, and the more it refused to go away and very much kept getting worse (or better, depending on one’s point of view), the more Rose was convinced that she wasn’t imagining it. She was, indeed, looking straight at a series of images of plus-sized individuals all proudly displaying curves and proportions that would normally be utterly impossible to achieve in reality without extreme amounts of cosmetic surgery, if even that much, while the ad itself proudly announced the “grand opening” of their “innovative approach to size woes”: the oddly appropriately-named “HyperSolutions.com”, a site “dedicated to making dreams come true.” It felt cheesy, downright corny, especially for what was effectively going to turn out to be a bunch of poorly-edited photographs and videos of actors and actresses wearing obviously-fake prosthetics while pretending they were the real deal. Rose was no stranger to such things, and usually ignored them in her search for higher-quality artistic productions, but there was something about that banner ad that drew her attention: the models looked real. Not just real in the sense that the plastic prosthetics were there, but very much real in the sense that those tits they were carrying, despite obviously having to be fake, looked to be perfectly natural and actually attached to them the way they should be. The milk a few of them were leaking didn’t appear edited in, while some of the silent video clips showing off the more extreme stuff looked perfectly legitimate and, if Rose was being honest with herself, hot as all hell. It was all probably just camera tricks and some top-notch professional-grade image editing, but it pushed so many of Rose’s buttons that the vixen couldn’t help but click on it, even if she knew she’d be alerting the IT department by doing so. She was expecting to land on a garishly-coloured and poorly-put-together front page with very large buttons telling her to pay up to access all the juicy stuff, but instead, she was redirected to a completely black screen with a standard eighteen-plus disclaimer written in eye-searing white; after clicking through it, the website still refused to give her what she was looking for… in a way. Instead, it proudly displayed the message “We’re here for you! HyperSolutions.com is proud to work with its customers to bring the joy of growth and size to everyone we can. Please tell us how we can help!” in large, bold lettering at the top of the page, followed by a lengthy list of body parts, each one set right next to a slider that took up most of the width of the screen in a straight line. Rose sighed, chuckling quietly to herself as she shook her head; she’d seen stuff like that before, in those terrible Flash “games” asking you to build the “body of your dreams” that inevitably tried to squeeze a trojan into your system. If nothing else, she wasn’t surprised; the whole thing was clearly too good to be true. Still, she went that far, and the computer wasn’t even hers anyway, so why turn back now? Why not just go for broke and see what happened when she moved the sliders along; maybe the damned thing would finally let her take a look at what was happening behind all those curtains. Besides, the idea still tickled Rose’s brain in just the right ways to make her wish it were all true, whatever that even meant; being cursed with a body as flat and plain as hers while her sexual preferences were right on the other side of the size spectrum was difficult at the best of times, so fantasy at least gave her an outlet for her frustrations. As such, the vixen found the slider for her breasts and promptly yanked it all the way from one side of the screen to the other; a small button with a plus symbol appeared next to it, and Rose was about to click on it when suddenly she felt something slam into her ribcage from within, a surge of pressure that almost made her yelp in shock and surprise. She had to put both hands in front of her mouth just to muffle the noises trying to get out, all while the sense of discomfort grew more powerful, the pressure rising to nearly unbearable levels at the same time as her breasts became immensely hot. Sweat poured down her brow, matting her hair against the fur on her forehead, and this didn’t get better when she actually looked down at herself. What used to be a perfectly fitting button-up shirt had suddenly turned into an overstretched piece of fabric that could barely contain two things that the vixen was certain hadn’t been there just moments prior: actual tits. It took a moment for her brain to process what it was looking at, but after it put the pieces together and began to really appreciate what was happening to her, Rose suddenly had to fight back the urge to scream in utter, unbridled glee, to announce to the world that she finally had a bust that was worth looking at! Nevermind the fact that it was probably an hallucination or some kind of very long lucid dream, all that really mattered was that she looked down and could see her breasts overflowing from between the buttons on her shirt, struggling against them in their attempt at breaking free from their prison, stretching the cloth out as far as it could go as they packed on pound after pound, cup size after cup size. After a few seconds, Rose even dared to remove her hands from her mouth and place them on her chair’s armrests, arching her back forward just enough to really get a good view of her tits as they burgeoned outwards; her shirt groaned ominously as the fabric itself was torn apart, and within a few moments the first rips made themselves well known, with her soft flesh bulging out from the holes and inviting any who saw it to get a good grope. By the end, she was left with a set of breasts big enough to cover a good half of her torso, though miraculously her buttons had all survived… so clearly something had to be done about it. Without even thinking about what she was doing, Rose leaned forward, stifling a moan once she felt her very sensitive and constrained tits smush against the side of her desk, and clicked on the plus sign, hoping that it would give her an extra boost. Instead, it merely reset the slider back to what it used to be… but without actually shrinking her back down to her old size. With her mouth breaking out into a grin that grew wider as the realization set in, the vixen didn’t even give the program time to react as she moved the breast size slider back to the other side of the screen, where amazingly enough the plus button showed up again; as this wouldn’t nearly be enough to satisfy her, she of course immediately located the lactation slider and, as quickly as possible, gave herself two full run-throughs as well before finally sitting back down and letting her body take the wheel. Rose’s buttons wouldn’t last more than ten seconds. The extra upgrade to her bust size, as well as her milkiness being boosted so hard she could feel her cream being produced inside of her, the faintest of sloshes audible already if she paid attention to them, made sure that those valiant little things were shot out at such a high speed that one of them even managed to embed itself into the wall of her cubicle, loudly enough to probably attract some attention… not that Rose could really care at that point. All that mattered was bringing her hands over to her bust, squeezing it until her soft flesh overflowed from between her fingers, watching and delighting at how it kept on taking up more and more space on her torso, spilling from her ruined shirt and straight onto her lap, so massive that the mere thought of having to walk around with those things attached to her was leaving her so giddy as to be unable to thoroughly think of the consequences of her actions. All that mattered was watching herself grow bigger, so big in fact that a different perspective was necessary to truly appreciate it. The vixen got up so quickly that her chair ended up rolling several feet backwards and against a wall; she was surprisingly agile despite the fact that her tits, now that she could see their size properly, were already big enough to reach her waist without losing their perfect shape. But this wasn’t enough, no, she had to shove her keyboard out of the way to make room for both of her arms when she leaned forward and kept her upper body at a ninety degree angle with her lower one, leaning down onto her desk from a standing position just so she could enjoy both the sight and the sensations of having her tits hang down into thin air, just so she could feel the weight of them as they grew and filled. With her forehead firmly on her arms and her eyes fixated on her growing bust, she watched as her tits bloated and swelled, filled and stuffed themselves with milk, so much so that they began to leak openly onto the ground; thin spurts of cream were constantly falling from her teats, which now hung a good distance away from where her flat self used to have them… but this wasn’t enough. Rose turned her attention to the website again, but not to the size slider. There was something about that position she was in, about how much it reminded her of the many milking fantasies that had run through her head, how much it made her look like a dairy cow ready to be drained by industrial-grade machinery, that made her want to fill up, not just grow. So she took her mouse and clicked the plus sign on the lactation slider before running it back to maximum again… and again… and a fifth time in total, and then a sixth, and then a seventh despite the fact that the warmth in her tits had progressed to full-on heat, and then an eight despite her being in full flow and each nipple leaking like an open faucet, and then a ninth and a tenth. She would’ve gone for more, hell, Rose probably wouldn’t have ever stopped if not for the simple fact that, when she was ready to click on the plus symbol an eleventh time, she felt something: the floor. The vixen didn’t want to believe it, but there it was, ready for her to look at once her eyes were wrenched from the screen. Her uncontrolled additions to her own lactation had forced her breasts to produce so much milk that, even though they were probably flowing with gallons of the stuff, they had somehow managed to swell up and inflate with their delicious contents so much that both of her nipples were firmly smushed against the carpeted ground. The reason for this was obvious the more she looked at them: her productivity had been boosted to such high levels that she was now permanently stuck growing, no longer needing to increase her size to have her size increased. Inches were added onto her in every direction for every other second that passed, a process that only got “worse” as soon as the vixen snapped from her lactic trance and began giddily adding more and more milkiness to herself via the sliders again. The only thing that truly could stop her was if someone showed up and outright removed her computer privileges, and even then, who had the power to stop her tits from producing milk? No one, that’s who. “What the fuck?!” someone did indeed end up shouting next to her, immediately snapping Rose back to reality, her eyes going wide and her arousal halting for a couple of seconds, “Rose, wha-what the fuck, Rose, what the hell is going on?!” The words left her frozen in place, the realization that someone had actually caught her during her expansive growth fantasy bringing Rose crashing back down from her aroused state far more harshly than she would’ve wanted. Suddenly, it wasn’t just her, alone, enjoying her body as it grew to absurd proportions; it was her back at work, having completely let go of any hope of holding onto it by virtue of being unable to control her urges. Off to the side, one of her coworkers was staring at her with their eyes wide open, scanning her burgeoning form as if trying to make sure they too weren’t hallucinating, unable to really say or do anything other than what they had already; the vixen, meanwhile, was desperately eyeing everything around her for any means of escape, unfortunately spotting something far different in the process: the sliders had changed. Or rather, the plus sign next to the lactation one had inexplicably developed a twin; this one was coloured differently, and somehow managed to feel more alluring than it had any right to be. Figuring that her job was a loss anyway, Rose threw caution at the wind and clicked the newest option… resulting in every other slider suddenly being cut in half; or, more appropriately, the milkiness one doubling in size. What this meant was obvious, though Rose wasn’t certain whether she should be doing it in her cubicle, given how weighty her tits already were. Then again, it was there, and she wasn’t going to be able to resist the need to use it for much longer, so why not skip ahead and ignore all sense of rationality while doing so? She dragged her mouse over to the very edge and then reset the damned thing for another run-through again, having completely forgotten how many times she’d done so already; all Rose knew was that the pressure inside of her bust was so powerful that she couldn’t help but moan in response to it, loudly enough that most of the office could probably hear her all the way from the back. She had to move, but how? All Rose had to do was let herself fall onto her bust and she could use those two enormous milktanks like a plus-sized beanbag already, and they were only growing bigger and fuller with each second that passed. In a moment of desperation, Rose, by that point completely ignoring the throng of coworkers trying to see what was going on, scrolled through the list of options until she found the ones she was looking for, then promptly began the process of sliding them over to the edge and repeating it over and over again once more. In doing so, the jeans she was wearing began to feel tight all over very quickly, before the denim began to rip and tear open, large gashes being created by her fattening thighs and swelling ass, until the whole thing just snapped like it was absolutely nothing, leaving her trapped between an immobilizing bust on one side, and a lower body that quickly became couch-sized on the other. Then again, that was the whole plan: give herself legs so big and powerful that they could actually move her from place to place. Against all sense of reason, it actually worked. Though it still took a significant amount of effort for her to lift her tits off the ground, and even while standing up properly those things still scraped against the floor and forced her to physically push them ahead of herself, Rose nonetheless managed to regain mobility… even if it meant her colossal asscheeks clapping loudly with each step she took, and the door to the bathroom being completely ruined once she managed to squeeze herself through it and plopped her colossal bottom on the linoleum. But she did it, and that’s all that mattered; somehow, against all odds, Rose had dragged herself all the way over to the women’s restroom and now sat in the middle of it, her butt big enough that her head was just a couple of feet from the ceiling, her tits having filled to the point where they were already smushing against it and left her feeling like she was about to be crushed by their sheer size. And sure, there was a whole crowd waiting for her outside, but that hardly mattered, because even in her sorry state, Rose had remembered the most important thing: her phone. No amount of size was going to stop her from getting internet reception on that device, and with it came glorious accessibility to the very same website that had turned her from an unassuming office worker into something more resembling lewd artwork than anything else. Yes, her tits were already beginning to ache from how much they were squishing against the top and bottom of the room she was in, physically pushing her back against the far wall from how quickly they were filling up; and yes, they were doing so at such a fast pace that despite her nipples looking more like cream-based fire hydrants, she was still growing with the sheer amount of fluid build-up inside of her. And finally, yes, her ass was so big that there was a hole in the wall where the bathroom door used to be, her thighs thick to the point where she could probably fit her torso in a single one about ten times over. But that wasn’t enough. Because now she had free rein to play with herself. The phone was very quickly unlocked and the browser opened, the vixen’s mind hyper-focused on getting back to the website that had turned her into some sort of milksplosion-based lifeform; despite her mind being in quite the state of disarray, she still managed to log back into it again within a single minute, and was very happy to find out that the extra buttons were all there, as was the extra-long lactation slider. How that happened to be was anyone’s guess, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth; rather, and with the giddiest grin on her face, the vixen decided that she was going to start abusing the living hell out of the lactation slider until she really couldn’t anymore. She needn’t do anything more after all; her breasts were more than happy to swell up perpetually as long as she was producing milk, so why not make her body do that even better and more efficiently? Why not just keep going until not only did she completely lose track of how many times more she had done so after sitting down in the bathroom to isolate herself, but the browser UI changed once more, with the green plus symbol showing up again? Clicking it did what it had previously: increase the length of the milkiness slider and give Rose even more room to improve herself beyond the limits of mere mortals. It was more reflex than anything else at that point, with the vixen happily moving the bar over to the right, slamming her finger down on the reset button and then doing it all over again, and again, and again, until the very building around her began to crumble and the churning of milk within her bosom began to overpower everything else, even the thoughts in her own head. She couldn’t really listen to or focus on anything else, with even the sliding on the phone having been turned into little more than muscle memory moving her finger from one side to another in order to drown out the whole world… and drown it the old-fashioned way as well, given how much sweet milk was bursting forth from her swollen, person-sized teats. The streets outside were completely covered in a thick blanket of white, the building collapsing all around her as the thick cream infiltrated every nook and cranny and turned everything into a mushy, barely-stable version of itself. The entire city block around her workplace was awash with powerful currents of milk all emanating from where she sat, or rather, where she lay; after a while, it was impossible to remain on her comfortable cheeks, given that her tits had simply grown too much for her not to be smothered by their immense size, resulting in the vixen slowly being pulled upwards by her own growth, until she was left lying down on a dairy throne, two colossal tits that had completely destroyed the office building she used to work in while she was too busy focusing on how big and full she was, and on making herself ever more productive. It was only after the light of the sun shone on the phone screen, making it harder for her eyes to pick up on where they should direct her slider finger, that Rose returned from her own personal heaven, her brain calling its consciousness back into action to resolve that unfortunate little problem. The vixen couldn’t even fathom how immense she was, so big that she couldn’t even see the curvature of her breasts anymore, so full and stuffed that she could feel ocean-strength currents roiling around inside of her, the sounds so powerful that her ears rang from constant exposure. She was productive enough to substitute the entire planet’s dairy industry and still she didn’t feel like it was enough; why stop now that she’d gotten so far? Why halt her ascension when the browser still worked, and she could still give herself more and more? Feet being gained every second just wasn’t sufficient, she needed yards, then miles, she needed to grow so much that reality itself frayed at the edges! And she would… just as soon as she covered her phone up to protect it from the sunshine so she knew where to place her finger again. It was only then that she noticed something new about the slider, and given what all the surprises had done for her up until that point, it was only natural that she look into what it happened to be that time. There, sitting next to the reset button after she maxed the damned thing out again, was a red “+1” icon; Rose couldn’t tell what it was supposed to mean, but she did know that pluses meant more, and more meant she became milkier, so of course she instantly pressed it without thinking about the consequences. The ensuing sense of pressure made her regret doing so, if only for just a second; the vixen had been feeling that sensation of near-bursting for quite a while at that point, it being part and parcel of the sort of insanely uncontrolled growth spurt she’d arranged for herself, but this one was… different. It reminded her of when the whole thing started, back in the distant time of about ten minutes prior when she was still person-sized and able to sit on a chair; it was the same warmth, the same heat, the same sense of pressure slamming into her ribcage from within, rather than inside of her tits. If Rose were still in possession of her mental faculties, she might’ve guessed what this meant, but in the lust-induced stupor that she was deeply stuck inside, the vixen completely failed to notice the second pair of breasts growing in beneath the original one until they began competing for room. It was almost supernatural how quickly that second row grew in, seemingly possessed of a mind of its own, wanting to match the first rack for size as quickly as it possibly could. And indeed, Rose felt her center of gravity shift massively as her torso was rocked backwards and forwards by the emergence of this brand new bust, leaving her split between two rows of tits that were both just as sensitive, just as productive, just as full, and soon enough, just as big. The vixen might not have been able to think about anything that wasn’t the word “more” at that time, but if there was one thing her mind was still capable of processing, it was a growth opportunity; after all, if she was given more breasts to work with by virtue of just moving that slider to the right enough times, then clearly all she had to do in order to be given even more was to keep doing it until her wrist gave up the ghost… which was exactly was she then sought out to do. There were no more thoughts in that head of hers, just the knowledge that she was growing larger and more productive as time went on and the rhythmic moving and resetting of sliders continued to disproportionately increase her milkiness, until not only was every street in the whole city covered in a several-foot-thick layer of cream, rolling at speeds high enough to move cars like they were made of paper and prayers, but her tits too had become… something bigger than big. They cast a shadow over the downtown area for all of the five or so minutes it had before being overrun, growing outwards until they flattened everything in sight, reducing the city to rubble while the evacuation efforts were just barely keeping ahead of the advancing wall of breastflesh trying to consume everything. More and more milk was given to those titanic orbs, until their growth rate did go to yards per seconds, steadily increasing until the first mile was broken and the third came right along; the next set of breasts came in shortly thereafter, just as excessive and just as impossibly pleasurable as the second had been, leaving the vixen thoroughly spent, yet unable to stop herself from giving her body boost after boost, no longer caring about such petty things as having room to grow, or being able to breathe at the kind of altitudes her main body was being pushed to. This led to a bit of change in perspective though, if only because there was a small part of Rose’s mind that wondered if the effects of the sliders were proportionate, and whether or not giving herself a boost to breast size in general would result in her growing so massively more in comparison to the first two upgrades she had tried out that the planet itself would be unable to hold her. That was the logic at least, and that was very much the motivation as well for her to break the cycle and give her tits a little bit of love for the first time in a while, having to zoom into the tiny little sliders that had been scrunched up against one side of the screen by the lactation one growing so massive. That was the last thing Rose remembered before blanking out completely, that and the sound of rumbling as her breasts’ surface began to quiver and tremble after she gave herself more size with the slider. When she came to, there was nothing around her; she was somewhere warm, somewhere soft, enveloped on all sides by her fur. She couldn’t see just how impossibly enormous she had made herself, couldn’t see how the growth spurt had been enough to jettison her off the planet and into orbit, couldn’t see how her now-four rows of tits had become sun-blotting to the point where her torso had been buried beneath them, nor the jets of milk that threatened to strip away the atmosphere as they continued to grow in intensity. No, the only thing she could see was her phone. And the lack of reception.

Everything was going perfectly fine until she decided to go out and train under the sun. The whole day had been about as monotonous as it could be, with nothing out of the ordinary happening, being suggested, or apparently being possible. Both Heather and Stella got out of the bed, had breakfast, spent their morning cleaning the house thoroughly, enjoyed some lunch and had decided to spend the afternoon just doing whatever in order to pass the time; Stella had the plants in her garden to water, and Heather had her training regimen which she religiously followed every day. It was important to stay in shape with a body like hers, lest her prodigious bust end up causing no end of back pain, and besides, it was something to do in order to help stave off boredom and get that sweet, sweet serotonin hit she so desperately craved at times. So, the Poké-gal got her sports bra and shorts on, grabbed a sports drink from the fridge, and headed out into the backyard in order to enjoy herself. And, at least for a time, it seemed like things would carry on the way they usually did. In fact, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen at all, apart from the can she brought from the fridge being remarkably different than the usual brand; Heather recalled her partner saying something about a “new thing” that she saw on the news and wanted to try out, something about a sports drink that was also a diet soda while simultaneously being something to be enjoyed as a fine drink, a combination that was, as far as the Lopdra cared, positively ludicrous. At least it tasted somewhat nice; nothing out of the ordinary, but not like some of the swill she’d had the misfortune of experimenting with in the past. Certainly nothing that would indicate what it had in store for her. She resumed her workout, going through the motions the way she usually did. Heather had initially started getting exercise done after a growth spurt left her with a set of breasts a bit too heavy for her body to carry properly, especially given how light she already was, but by the time her back was well-toned enough to carry those things without too much trouble, she’d grown so accustomed to the routine that it almost felt like a waste to just stop; besides, it had given her a physique that, truth be told, was enjoyed by herself and Stella in equal measure, and if it let her last longer in the bedroom while providing for her partner even more, then why stop? At least, that’s what the logic had been up until that point, and given that nothing strange had happened, Heather saw no reason to think that anything would be different. That is, of course, until about thirty minutes into her cardio, when she felt something inside of her chest. Having never experienced any side-effects from skirting so close to lunch when starting her workout, to suddenly have that odd sense of churning pressure push against her from the inside left Heather slightly concerned that something might be dreadfully wrong. Then again, despite the sensation coming mostly from where her lungs were, she didn’t feel any shortness of breath, nor did she start to hyperventilate, voluntarily or otherwise; in fact, apart from the pressure just being there, she felt exactly the same as before, and since it wasn’t exactly painful or anything of the sort, it left her feeling more… mildly uncomfortable rather than anything else, like a foreign body had just lodged inside of her without actually affecting her in any way. The goo-bun was about to turn around and call for Stella’s help when she noticed that there was something remarkably different about herself when she tried to move: her balance. Having had time to get used to her new bust, the change in Heather’s center of gravity had long-since migrated to that part of her brain that no longer worried about things and just sort of went on with its day, relegated to automatic processing, if even that. Thus, when she tried to move around and was met by the same kind of sudden weight shifting that she’d had to deal with it many months prior, Heather was slightly worried about what might be happening to her; the cause for this was obvious, and indeed should have been perfectly evident if she only bothered to look down, but doing so would give her confirmation, and the Poké-gal doubted whether she’d be able to keep her wits about herself if she had undeniable evidence that her tits were getting bigger again. Not that it was a bad thing, but she was part Lopunny, and what they said about rabbits had an unfortunate tendency to be entirely spot-on; getting that kind of workout so soon after lunch might genuinely have nasty side-effects. She couldn’t help herself though, not after taking a step and feeling her breasts bouncing in a way that shouldn’t be possible with her sports bra being as tight around her chest as it was; there shouldn’t be any bounce, much less the kind that brought to mind memories of that time she spent dealing with the extra cup sizes before buying entirely new lingerie. Again, not exactly the worst of memories, but being horny during a potential growth spurt was not the best mindspace to be in if she wanted to avoid any unnecessary injury to herself; it was depressingly easy to get caught in the process and forget about such things as walls or sharp corners. Or bras snapping. Or clothes ripping. Or a myriad of different things that Heather was certain she was going to experience before the hour was over. She wanted to say something, but each time the bun opened her mouth to speak, whatever words she could conjure up were left stuck in her throat and unable to move any further from that, just as her hands refused to stay put and began to gravitate towards her chest at about the same time as her feet stopped moving her closer to the house and instead remained rooted in their spot. Heather would soon be feeling the softness of her bust, sinking her fingers into it as she felt it expand in every direction, pushing against and overflowing from her tight clothing, the ripping and tearing of fabric accompanying each inch that she felt herself gain; the bun couldn’t even look down to see it happen in real-time, knowing for a fact that if she were to stare at her own cleavage, deepening and lengthening as the tits creating it grew fatter and fatter still, she’d drop to her knees and immediately give in to her own arousal. Then again, she ended up doing that anyway, making the whole thing a moot point; there was only so much one could withstand when it came to that sort of stimulation, and as soon as her sports bra outright snapped, forcing Heather to hold the tattered remnants of it with both hands, the sudden weight on her palms was enough to make something click inside of her head. Now there was nothing in there but those exact sensations, the softness, the warmth, the sheer size as it oozed between her fingers… she wanted to let go, allow her bra to just fall onto the ground and have her breasts set free, but not yet; more was needed, to make the final release that much sweeter and more enjoyable. Just as Heather was starting to deal with a pair of breasts that were very quickly becoming big enough to cover most of her upper body, Stella was starting to feel like something was… definitely off about herself. She’d never been quite as blessed as her mate was, and even if she had been, she probably wouldn’t have taken up exercise as a regular thing; rather, the Poké-gal was one far more inclined for the simple, mentally fulfilling exercise of gardening, and was happy to spend hours tending to her beautifully, meticulously cared for flowerbed. It had taken months, sometimes years of hard work to get it to the state that it was, and though most of the work required was just maintenance, there was still enough space left to do some experimenting with exotic seeds; none of this left her even remotely winded, much less tired or exhausted, which is exactly why the sudden shortness of breath caught her so off-guard. Though, it wasn’t necessarily hard to breathe as much as it simply felt like it should be. It was hard to describe, almost like she’d just swallowed something and it got stuck in her throat, despite Stella’s lunch being very much safely packed inside of her stomach. It was bad enough to prompt her to take the can of soda “mix” she brought from the fridge and take a couple of sips to hopefully get rid of whatever that blockage was… only for the sense of intrusion and pressure to grow worse instead. The Goodra hybrid practically keeled over as she wrapped both arms around her belly, just barely managing to miss her garden when doing so, her teeth gritted as she tried to stifle a loud, painful scream… yet there was no pain there, none that she could tell at least. There should be pain, from what she was feeling, but instead it was almost relaxing, in an odd, roundabout way; it wasn’t until she opened her eyes and looked down, seeing what was happening to her breasts, that she realized what was happening. Sprinting through the house to warn Heather not to take the spiked drink was made remarkably harder than it should be thanks to those new weights on her chest, harder still considering they never really stopped growing. Each leap she took caused her breasts to bounce eagerly on her torso, ripping through her clothes almost pathetically easily as they packed on pound after pound of mass from seemingly nowhere; the process took her by surprise, and progressed so much quicker than it did with Heather, thanks to Stella drinking more of the tainted substance, that she actually had to stop running after barely covering half of their house. Not because she was too tired to do it, but the sensations had simply overpowered her better judgement, leaving her unable to do anything but shamble towards the closest door, tongue lolling out of her mouth, dragging her feet across the floor as her hands flew to her bloating, swelling breasts to find them so immensely engorged that her fingers could sink and vanish into their plush pudge. Better yet, it wasn’t just her bust growing larger; though it was nearly imperceptible at first, Stella eventually came to realize that her slow motions were being seriously unbalanced by quite a bit of extra weight somewhere below the waist, and after successfully wrenching one of her hands away from her tits and onto her ass, her suspicions were confirmed when it indeed grabbed hold of a cheek that was substantially larger than what it was just moments before. The ensuing moan was loud enough to be heard all the way from across the street, and certainly loud enough that Heather, also stuck in place and fondling themselves, was given the confirmation they needed to know that their partner was undergoing the same transformation they were. Even still, it took them the better part of ten minutes just to cross the few remaining yards that yet separated them, what with their feet refusing to obey them when they tried to get them to move in any direction at all, and their minds being so focused on extracting as much pleasure out of their burgeoning bodies as possible that they occasionally found themselves forgetting to breathe properly. It was an overwhelming experience, especially when their frames themselves began to expand outwards along with their assets, ensuring that getting through the last couple of doors was so much harder than it should be, and yet so much better than it ever could be. With Heather on one side pulling on two arms and Stella on the other trying to push herself through a tight opening, her ass stuck between both sides of the opening, the two would inevitably end up collapsed into a heap of goopy curves once the latter popped free from his constraints, tumbling around along the ground for a couple of feet before stopping in an odd, but oddly comfortable position. There was no way either of them were going to resist the allure of the other one’s body at that point. Even the short time they were apart was enough to cause immense changes to their physical forms, with both women significantly taller than they used to be, and their curves magnified, if not tenfold, then very close to it. All they could do was feel as their tits smushed against one another and their legs rubbed up in ways that defied conventional logic with how smooth and delectable it felt, all while they bloated further, filling with phantom mass as the tainted drink worked through their system and continuously improved them. With a gentle push, Stella was moved onto her side, the weight having become too much for even Heather to deal with; this allowed the two women to truly get down to work and focus their attention on one another’s burgeoning selves, their hands flying from curve to curve as they found new and more inventive ways of taking advantage of their heightened sensitivity. Even a single squeeze was enough to elicit a throaty moan, with anything more leading to their bodies vibrating as their constituent goo lost some of its solidity with the amount of stimulation it was receiving; soon enough, they would be dripping all over the place, but for some reason they didn’t really care all that much about that. No, the only thing in their minds was the need to grow, not even to pleasure themselves; sure, that they had one another there at their disposal was fine and all, absolutely fantastic to a certain point, but the main drive keeping them going was this incessant desire to become bigger. To grow taller, thicker, curvier, with plumper busts and fuller butts, with hips that would let them hip-check trees off their roots and sloshing that would cause deafness in whoever heard it. All they could think of was how they were out in the backyard and yet only occupied a frankly pitiful amount of it, rather than the whole thing, rather than looming over their whole house as their growth became unsustainable and caused them to explode outwards with even more size. And seeing as how their bodies seemed unwilling to stop, there really wasn’t any excuse for them not to do just that; after all, who was stopping them? Who was telling them they couldn’t just outgrow everything? It was such a liberating realization that it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the first thing their bodies did as a reaction to it was… grow. Several feet, in fact, almost as if the two women coming to that understanding had released some kind of pressure valve and allowed their true selves to shine through, even if it was nothing more than a tainted drink polluting their veins and warping their physical forms; then again, considering what kind of transformation they were undergoing, “tainted” might be going a bit too far. They weren’t growing disfigured, just bigger, with the disproportionality going to just the right spots for it feel exceedingly arousing: rounder, fuller breasts, plushier, pudgier butts, hips that flared out and outgrew any door in existence, all of it packaged with a body that itself became so much taller than it used to be that both women were very much convinced they wouldn’t be able to stand up properly ever again; not because they couldn’t if they really tried, but because it’d just make them too horny to keep going without collapsing into a heap again. Thankfully, being “stuck” on the ground as they were, they didn’t need to worry about such things; in fact, with nothing to stand in their way, they could focus exclusively in getting as much enjoyment out of this situation as they could, which of course involved getting their grabby little fingers onto as many curves as possible. Their only regret was that the drink didn’t give them extra hands to work with, though then again, if it had, it was doubtful that they’d be able to remain conscious from the sheer stimulation overload they would no doubt be on the receiving end of. Still, two hands were more than enough to thoroughly enjoy everything one another’s bodies had to provide, and as both Heather and Stella continued to grow, the list of opportunities only got longer and deliciously more detailed. Wouldn’t take too long before their house was being threatened by the both of them and their unwillingness to hold back, their paws occasionally crashing through a section of the wall or shattering a window pane, not to mention the groaning of plaster and wood whenever they rolled around too close to it for comfort. That said, why exactly should they care? The thought that the transformation might very well be temporary didn’t really cross their minds, nor the idea that they might have to go back to an existence where they could live inside closed walls; as far as either Poké-gal was truly concerned, this that they were experiencing would be their true selves going forward, and any concerns they might’ve had about lodgings and home ownership before was now entirely moot and unworthy of having time spent thinking about it. They were better now, better than houses and small spaces and tight confines; they were bigger, curvier, much too gigantic to be contained by a simple domicile, and judging from the way the pressure inside their bodies was intensifying, this was only going to get worse (better?) as time went on. Indeed, their previous home wasn’t fated to last for much longer, especially not after Stella and Heather both decided that they should actively try and get rid of it once they grew big enough. With breasts smushing against one another and their arms struggling to reach any part of their lover’s body that wasn’t either ass or tit, all that was left was for them to start rolling around even more in the hopes of feeling the weight of their forms on each other, to permit their curves to hug themselves and their counterparts through flagrant abuse of gravity and their own elasticity. On the one hand, it did provide for the kind of stimulation that left them unable to speak properly thanks to how harshly they moaned out in reflex; on the other, it reduced what used to be a perfectly serviceable family home to little more than shattered foundations, glass shards, bent planks of wood and the occasional pile of rubble. Then again, neither of the women particularly cared about what happened to something that, by that point, was smaller than they were; if they bothered to get up, they could’ve easily boobhated their own roof, and if that took place, there was no doubt it would collapse right away anyway. That said, if they had bothered to get up and look around, they would’ve noticed they weren’t alone in their expansive journey. After all, the drink that kickstarted the entire process had just hit the stores, and being both commercially available and heavily marketed meant it had found its way into every home in their neighborhood. Either through some divine ordinance or sheer luck and serendipity (or perhaps because it was a pleasantly warm day that invited everyone to head outside to enjoy themselves), Heather and Stella hadn’t been the only ones who thought to savour this new flavoured drink, and they certainly weren’t the only couple who realized what it did to their bodies and deliberately played into it. In fact, an argument could be made that they were underachieving in the size department; being so busy with pleasuring one another, they hadn’t actually gone back to drink more of the tainted drink, limiting just how much they could truly grow, while others nearby had absolutely no such limitations imposed on them. Of course, “limiting” was very much relative when it came to them. One could hardly call their bodies “limited” when they had outgrown their house in both height and sheer volume, when each of their breasts had become heavy and large enough to flatten long-haul transport trucks just by being dropped on one, when their asses had grown to such a point that they could properly flatten a small ship if one of them tripped onto it. It was excess in its purest form, and the two gals wouldn’t have it any other way; their only regret, once more, was that their arms were simply not enough to properly handle everything they had on offer, though this was easily fixed by just throwing themselves at each other and letting their supple selves handle the rest. It was as if they were made of gelatin, their softness working very much in their favour as their curves melted and moulded into one another, no longer requiring the tender touch of slender fingers in order to provide the best possible stimulation; not only that, but the drink seemed to have done quite a number on their sensitivity as well, with each inch that was touched upon feeling like a whole mile of nerve endings flared to maximum capacity, all of it feeding back into two brains that were already struggling to deal with everything happening around them. Both of them quickly fell into a fugue state from where they wouldn’t come out of for… quite a while, to say the least, both as a self-protective measure with their minds shielding themselves from the overwhelming pleasure, and, paradoxically, as a way for them to be able to enjoy themselves even further; after all, if all control was handed over to their lower functions, the rest of their brainpower could be focused entirely on experiencing every moment to its fullest. At least, that was what they assumed, in some far-off corner of their minds that yet retained the ability to think. The truth of the matter was far simpler: they were horny, too horny to think straight, and their brains had to adapt somehow. That they chose to do this by deliberately shutting down any “unnecessary” thought processes and throwing both Poké-gals straight into a pit of their own depravity was probably indicative of something, but neither of them were in any position to pass judgement on that; they were slightly too busy trying to push their hands into soft, pudgy breastflesh or attempting to reach around to grab at asscheek to really do anything else. The drink really was strong, considering that Heather and Stella had only really taken one or two sips and yet they were still growing after several minutes, past the point where they were larger than their house and big enough to appreciate the collection of other giants being born all around them. Some of them were absolutely colossal, far bigger than they themselves were and most likely overdosed on the tainted drink, casting a shadow over everything around them and looming over so many of their peers that it was doubtful they were even on the same level anymore; some were as gods, their heads reaching into the sky and breaking through the few clouds that dared to stand in their way, roaring and murring and purring and growling and a whole host of other, universally undignified noises that came out of their throats. Cocks, tits, balls, butts, all of it was on proud display for the whole world to see… a world that seemed to have been taken by storm by this odd, entirely inoffensive-tasting sports drink. For Stella and Heather though, none of this truly mattered; the whole world could be dead for all they truly cared, as all they really needed was one another. One might be forgiven for thinking that such an explosive growth spurt would be so fundamentally sexually charged that it would overload their ability to feel anything other than raw, carnal arousal, but surprisingly enough, both women were having plenty of fun simply enjoying each other’s warm, filling presence, even if their bodies did work overtime on their own to improve on the experience by having them rub up and squish against one another. Sure, there were titans out there that were far bigger than they were, but did that really matter when they had each other right there? When all they had to do was open their eyes and, with some minor work to get boob out of the way, they could stare into one another’s soul for hours on end, letting the other know just how deeply their love ran? It almost felt silly to worry about size competitions; let others concern themselves with setting and reaching arbitrary goals, the two Poké-gals already had everything they ever wanted. That didn’t mean they weren’t going to enjoy it to the fullest extent though; they had grown into about thirty-foot giantesses with tits for days and a dumptruck of an ass each, to say nothing of the egregiously curvaceous thighs they had adorning them, or the just right amount of pudge on their bellies, purely for the sake of being grabbed, kneaded and massaged. It was a far cry from Heather’s more athletic physique, and something that Stella never once imagined she’d be capable of putting on for show, but here it was now, as real as anything could be, and right there at their fingertips. It was so easy to just lose themselves, to have their hands fly from one spot to another on either their own body or that of their lover’s, to have each digit find new and improved ways of messing up the pleasure centers of their brains with how much of an electrical discharge they could trigger with so little work; occasionally they would stop moving, ending up either on top of one another or directly side-by-side, lost in one another’s eyes even as they struggled to filter out an outside world that grew increasingly noisier and far less respecting of their privacy and personal space. Clearly, something had to be done. Heather and Stella didn’t want to just grow for the sake of it, but clearly, if everyone else was going to keep interrupting their moments together, they had to do something about it; and with all of those colossi all growing increasingly bigger and faster, the very Earth itself shaking underneath the emergence of a brand new race of soda-fueled giants, the two women had to take drastic measures in order to truly escape this cacophony. Thankfully, they didn’t need to rely on any more cans of that drink, or on finding whatever chemical plant produced that clearly abhorrent genetic slurry; they had one another! Or, to be more precise, they had their breasts. They’d been doing a good enough job of ignoring all of that sloshing emanating from those two enormous orbs they both sported, good enough that sometimes they even forgot it was there; however, now that they were dead-set on a finding a way off that cramped spot, and into somewhere else where they could enjoy themselves without having to worry about pretenders trying to intrude upon their private time, suddenly all of that running milk felt a lot more appetizing than it previously did. Even better, both of their busts had grown so large that they didn’t even need to take turns suckling on one another; with some minor squishing and pushing around, they each found their way to a teat at the same time, and with very minimal squeezing, the cream began to flow. To call it sweet was an understatement; the flavour was almost aggressively saccharine in its sugar content, and were it not for the two gals being so deep into their own arousal that select parts of their brains were shutting down just to make the experience more palatable, they might’ve recoiled at the extremely strong taste. Instead, they both let loose a series of groans that were very quickly muffled by the gouts of milk erupting into their mouths and down their throats, sounds that only egged them both on further as they worked the tit they were drinking from until gallons of the delicious cream within flowed about as easily as water did. It was the stuff of dreams, of fantasy really, the kind that existed only in their private hours behind locked doors, but it was real then, and it was far better than either of them could’ve ever expected. In between the taste, the sudden size spurt, the outgrowing of all those titanic sex beasts around them until they were little more than small dots off in the distance beneath them, it was hard to really get a bead for what they were supposed to feel: lust? Arousal? Something beyond and yet related? Bliss, perhaps, was the closest they could get, and even that felt… insufficient somehow, though they couldn’t quite put their finger on the reason why. Then again, like most other things, it ceased to matter past a certain point, because nothing else other than themselves was important; not cities, not other people, not the local geography, certainly not the milk after they had their fill. No, they had something far more meaningful, far more valuable than any of those things, something that would allow them to carry on forever if need be, drunk off of it, fed by nothing more than it, and all the more happy for it. They had each other.

It was as close to a flawless plan as the dragoness could come up with, and the longer the camera crew took to set things up, the more impatient she became. She was already on borrowed time, seeing as she had no clue whether or not her gracious donator would change his mind for no discernible reason; sure, he might be charmed by her looks and the promises of growth, but who knew what might happen to knock them back into something resembling sense? Her own aura of arousal only went so far when she was busy trying to coordinate a crew of hundreds, especially when she occasionally forgot about the little guy stuck between her tits… at least until he said something and she remembered he was in there at all. All in all, a dreadfully stressful experience, but one that Auralia was certain would work out in the end, giving her everything she could’ve ever wanted and then some; not that she was lacking for anything, being a twenty-foot statuesque giantess of a dragoness with tits big enough to pin her down to the ground, but it was precisely this sort of body that left her desiring even more, even greater sizes. It was a greed that could never be quenched, nor ever truly sated, but by the heavens above, she was going to try, even if she knew the plan would fail. On its face, it was deceptively simple: seeing as she grew whenever she amassed more wealth for her hoard, the only thing the dragoness had to do was acquire even more wealth, thus resulting in a bigger, more luscious and curvaceous body. While beforehand she’d been content with simple, incremental steps, it eventually became apparent that diminishing returns were something she had to worry about; whereas at the start of her journey Auralia could feel her body growing with something as simple as a hundred-dollar bill, nowadays it took millions for her to even feel anything at all, let alone for her form to bloat outwards in any appreciable manner. And while it was undeniable that her being a growing goddess had helped significantly, there was only so much that could be done without contacting a marketing firm and getting her message out on more mainstream platforms; it was for this reason that she had struck a “deal”, for lack of a better word, with the wealthy industrialist currently stuck inside of her cleavage: in return for a substantial donation on his part, she would helpfully provide her services for the sake of driving up sales! It was an absurd plan, because who would even care about whatever his factories produced when they could worship the very ground she walked on instead, but it was a plan, and thus it could be weaved into a narrative that was easy to sell to a man who was already head-over-heels for a dragoness they had absolutely no chances with; really, all it took were a couple of jiggles and the guy was ready to sign away their entire life savings if need be, and in fact had to be actively discouraged from doing so… though not for the reasons one might expect. Auralia’s transformative nature used to be linked to the direct transfer of wealth: she would need to physically receive something of worth, and as a result, her body would thicken and grow, hence why she had an entire cave complex filled with goodies that she occasionally forgot she even owned at all. But, as her power grew in proportion to her body, so too did the limits on what constituted a “transfer” for the sake of her swelling curves; after a while, all that was needed was the sight of wealth, in whatever form it took, along with a promise that it would given to her, and sooner still after that, merely the indication that the transfer would take place at all. It was a slow process to get started, but once it did, the accelerative nature of it took care of the rest; nowadays, all Auralia really needed was for someone to sign a piece of paper committing to giving her a certain sum and it would immediately make her tits burgeon outwards and her ass rise like dough, making it imperative that such a statement not be made until the cameras were rolling… after all, how was she supposed to get the vicious cycle going otherwise? The whole point of setting up that TV broadcast was to take advantage of the initial “donation” to start up a series of growth spurts that would, hopefully, encourage others to phone in and help to keep the dragoness growing; it was an old-school telethon really, with the idea being that, after a certain point, no one would actually need to use a television to be able to see her. As long as they knew that promising her all of their material wealth was as good as actually handing it over, then, as far as Auralia cared, her little ones could keep their coin inside whatever vault or asset they were assigned to; just as long as she got to experience the growth, the expansion, the endless downpour of mass that came with being a goddess of greed, then she didn’t really care about where the actual funds were. Such were the thoughts that kept her entertained while she tried her best to coordinate the film crew for the several hours it took to set up her outdoor arena, several hours where the dragoness had to contend with a bust that was, for lack of a better word, hungry; it was hard to explain, but the longer she went without some form of wealth being handed to her, the more her tits began to feel empty, just like they quite literally overflowed with golden goodness whenever she was being given what she wanted. It was a dangerously unstable equilibrium that her body was constantly trying to push towards one side in particular, and one that Auralia hoped to permanently tip as soon as the broadcast went live and the whole world was made privy to what sort of goddess they were going to be serving soon. When the countdown started, it felt as if she was struck by lightning, her whole body flinching when she heard someone shouting “One minute!” at the top of their voice. A frenzy of activity followed, doubly so when the lawyers were brought in and helped onto Auralia’s tits; the person who the money belonged to couldn’t be expected to make proper decisions, thus leaving the responsibility of transferring the sizeable amount of funds to the legal team, one that had spent the past month or so desperately trying to convince their boss that what they were doing was ridiculous and should be stopped before it went too far. Now though, now that they too were there in front of, and soon enough on the dragoness’ body, whatever resistance they might have had to the notion of signing off their wealth seemed to vanish into the aether; hell, a couple of them even went so far as to promise to give her all of their own material possessions, which certainly served to make everyone on set worry when Auralia’s colossal mammaries rumbled all of a sudden, sloshing loudly as droplets of pure, molten gold began to emerge from her engorged teats. The legal team must’ve been well-paid, given how the dragoness’ bust began to bloat outwards at a rate worrying enough that she had to ask the crew to hurry it up, with the cameras nearly catching several of the backstage personnel who just barely managed to scurry away from shot in time. By that point, there was no stopping the veritable freight train that was Auralia’s greed for growth; she barely even heard the announcer speak, rattling off all the necessary information so that everyone watching could know how best to contribute to the “growing goddess” that they were all seeing. For Auralia, there was only the sensation of fullness, the filling of her tits, the productivity of her milk factories kicking into high gear… and the knowledge that it wasn’t merely lactic cream she was making in those things. It befitted a dragoness of her statute that she should instead produce something entirely different, perhaps the distilled essence of what made her grow in the first place: gold, and lots of it. The substance formed in the same way that others would produce regular milk, but only in small, near-insignificant quantities by itself; it took a large amount of wealth being given to her before her “milkiness” was fully realized, but once it was, it became hard to navigate any space around the dragoness, given the frankly ludicrous quantities of molten gold that burst forth from her nipples. The one negative aspect was that it didn’t count towards her own growth; despite her producing literal rivers of the stuff, they never seemed to make her any bigger, presumably because it was already hers… or because the universe was trying to hold her back. It was a testament to her control over her own form that her tits weren’t literally boiling hot, but instead merely pleasantly warm; granted, the poor guy stuck in her cleavage was probably losing a significant chunk of his body weight in sweat for each minute he spent in there, but they didn’t seem to mind too much… and given how easily the lawyers took to just dropping their whole bodies onto the dragoness’ soft breastflesh, this was probably an indication of how easily she’d be able to dominate the airwaves. First things first though: the transfer of wealth had to occur. Auralia flinched once again after hearing her name spoken, remembering to wave in just the nick of time before realizing she was supposed to be looking sultry rather than bashful, at which point she eschewed any sense of shame and began openly fondling her tits; no one in the camera crew protested, nor indeed said anything at all, allowing the presenter to carry on talking about all the boring, yet frustratingly necessary details, while a group of crewmembers climbed onto the dragoness’ bust wearing full protective gear, intent on slapping the legal team back into consciousness so they could sign some papers. It was surprisingly difficult (or perhaps not so, given what sort of body the giantess had), and it took Auralia herself promising a lot of things which had to be bleeped out before any of the lawyers got up; once they did though, it was a simple matter of putting the documents in front of them, and seconds later the pact was sealed, the transfer promised… and the growth begun. The rumbling was powerful enough to nearly overpower the sound system, and certainly loud enough to make it impossible for anyone listening in to be able to hear the presenter anymore; combined with the dragoness’ moans, the broadcast had effectively been hijacked entirely by the one who, frankly, was supposed to take center-stage anyway. Unbeknownst to any of the people involved, Auralia had made some last-minute, secret alterations to the contract that had just been signed, the kind that would never actually hold up in court, yet would never get to one in the first place: rather than simply asking for a generous gift, the dragoness instead ensured that the documents legally required that the man inside her cleavage, whose name she never bothered to remember, give away all of his assets to Auralia, and Auralia alone. This immense transfer of wealth was enough to immediately drive her productivity to levels never before seen; the man was worth at least a couple of billion dollars, and now that all of them were in her name, even if legally the grounds were shaky, her body reacted the way it always did: transforming itself so as to make it look as rich and powerful as it was. The dragoness couldn’t help but open her mouth and let loose a frankly terrifying series of throaty noises, ones that, were it not for the obvious tones of arousal, might have made people think she was about to lose her mind and attack someone; combined with what happened with her tits, however, it became clear to anyone watching that what they were looking at wasn’t a monster… or at least not a dangerous one; her levels of horny energy certainly were monstrous if one bothered to try and measure. In but a few seconds, Auralia’s bust burst forth with additional size, not just gaining mass, but also filling with enough of her precious molten metal that it immediately began flowing from each of her teats; her buds opened up, loosening just enough for a veritable waterfall of gold to burst forth, both of her colossal, body-obscuring breasts looking more like broken fire hydrants than anything else. Even then, the sheer amount of the stuff being produced inside of her titanic mammaries was such that most of it couldn’t be output properly; she was stuck flooding a massive arena, and yet this barely accounted for a fraction of a percentage point of all the gold she was making, all the gold she was being stuffed with, resulting in her breasts exploding with size just from the initial donation alone… and with it came another change, another shift in paradigm, another different way in how donations and gifts affected her. Because, clearly, if her body was going to ascend to the very hallowed halls of divinity, then it had to be prepared to grow properly, which meant that Auralia couldn’t be expected to wait until someone formulated a promise, couldn’t ever be expected to operate on someone’s else time rather than her own. Thus, the simplest solution was to expand the definition of what a “promise” was… to anyone who even so much as thought to give her anything at all. It was about as far as the universe could go, but it didn’t need to go any further than that, not with a broadcast still rolling, showing the dragoness’ body as it continued to pick up on size, heft and productivity; the billions more that she was now worth poured into her, filled her, bloated her, made her perfect, so much so that the rest of her body began to billow outwards as well! It was a rare occasion when her body in general wasn’t being overshadowed by her tits, but then again, she hadn’t always been twenty feet tall, so it was only natural that such a sizeable increase to her hoard would result in the giantess becoming even more worthy of the title. And with titles, of course, came prestige, glory, and, above all, adoration; there were countless people looking at her in that exact moment, all of them awestruck, wondering how could it be possible that such a creature existed, and every last one, perhaps inspired by how the dragoness had grown, thought to look into their wallets. It was all it took. If Auralia had ever experienced growth before, then whatever it was she went through in those next few seconds would require a brand new definition of the word, for nothing she’d ever gone through previously could even so much as hope to someday think about holding a candle to the purest, unfiltered ecstasy that wracked her form. It was the best of everything ever, condensed into a singular moment, expanded upon and multiplied until there was nothing left but the everlasting realization that this was it, this was what she was going to be like, for all of eternity and beyond; it was every orgasm, every climax, every moment of intimacy, wrapped together and made golden, even more so than the cascade pouring out of her breasts, flooding the arena and everything else around it. From the lowliest of moments spent reading in front of a fireplace, to every overly-sweet, yet still delectable dessert, to the heights of passion lived with some boytoy with more cock than sense of decency, nothing was even remotely comparable to what Auralia went through in those divine few seconds, where her entire life was rendered utterly meaningless when compared to this explosion of incalculably powerful pleasure… and it didn’t end. It wasn’t just a momentary thing, a singular point in time that, while rapturous, could never truly last for how powerful it was; rather, it was extended, it continued to be, and above all, it only became better with each passing second. Rather than abating, giving the dragoness some time to process what was happening to her, the sensations coursing through and into her left Auralia increasingly more insensate, unable to do anything at all other than moan and beg for more, no longer concerned about appearing stately or maintaining a basic level of respectability. There was no more regal Auralia left there, no more of the giant temptress whose goal was to subvert the totality of the planet’s population in order to bring them in line with her devious, cunning plan to grow bigger and more stacked; there was only the primal Auralia, the animalistic beast ruled entirely by instinct and the desire to experience pleasure unlike any other, the same one who existed during those brief moments of purest joy that came with every single donation sizeable enough to make her grow. It was as if she was twenty again, and her very first size spurt had just taken place; it was much the same, the way that it seemed to completely destroy her perspective of the world, replacing it with something entirely different, yet undeniably so much better than anything that came before it. Proof, above all else, that not only was she capable of so much more, but that she could do it while riding a pleasure wave of titanic proportions, one that would never once abate, never once slow down, never stop, not until she decided it would… and she never would, because really, why should she? Hers was the power to dictate when her endless climax was brought to a halt, which as far as the dragoness was concerned, was the biggest load of unnecessary crap she’d ever considered; why in blazes would she ever decide to pull the switch, to end that eternal moment of purest bliss? Why shouldn’t she just let it carry on for all of forever, until the stars burned out and the universe grew cold, until the only thing left to even exist at all was herself: perfect, everlasting, perpetual, and, above all, stuck in a state of unending climax? The arena didn’t last much longer after the initial wealth transfer was complete, what with the world’s sudden interest pumping the dragoness to even greater sizes than she could’ve ever imagined to be possible; in purely objective terms, while she had expected the impromptu telethon to bring her enough growth to solidify her position as a living goddess to be worshipped, never in her wildest dreams did Auralia ever think that it would go that far. Big enough to fill up the stadium, sure, maybe even an entire downtown area, but before she knew it, the dragoness opened her eyes and noticed that the whole city around her had all-but vanished from sight, what with her head being above the clouds. Perhaps the best part about it was that the cover of fluffy white was broken in two spots in front of her, where the upper half of her bust’s curvature broke through, nearly knocking two planes out of the sky in the process. She could only imagine what sort of flow was coming out of her teats, especially since she could feel what had to be millions of gallons of molten gold pouring out of her, most likely solidifying into titanic lakes down below, only to be melted down by the constant downpour, or simply cracked into pieces by the sheer weight of the very mammaries that produced it in the first place. The vaguest sense of utmost destruction similarly accompanied the dragoness’ tail, which had made short work of… enough buildings for it to be slightly worrying, for lack of a better word. Her very breath created gusts of wind powerful enough to part the clouds themselves and still make skyscrapers bend to the point of nearly breaking apart; hell, just moving in general displaced enough air to create small tornados in her wake, and that was without her trying that hard. And yet, despite this, Auralia couldn’t bring herself to care; the world around her was being destroyed by her ascension, and the one thing left inside of her mind was whether or not she could squeeze in some extra fun, whether it was possible for her to enjoy herself even more. It was, ultimately, a legitimation question to be had: was her brain capped in the amount of pleasure that it could process, and if so, did that cap go up with how much bigger she became? An answer for this question would have been interesting, but the more the dragoness dwelled on it, the more she came to realize that it was, at the end of the day, entirely redundant: if she didn’t have a cap, then nothing was stopping her from thoroughly enjoying every second of her growth, and if she did… well, then she just needed to grow some more in order to give herself even more room to experience absolute, uttermost bliss, now didn’t she? It felt almost absurd to limit herself in any way, when instead she could be demanding more from the world. Sadly, at the size she was at, talking with anyone was slightly more difficult than it used to be, leaving her with scant few options to pick from; luckily, the vanishingly small number of cards she still held were all aces, especially once the dragoness realized she didn’t need to only use one at a time, not at her size, not with her level of power. In fact, why was she even on the planet at all? With the sky around her turning from a powder blue to a much deeper shade, eventually shifting to black entirely, all Auralia had to do was momentarily focus away from herself in order to notice how gravity had been flipped on its head, and how she was only stuck to the planet because she hadn’t thought to just… not. It was so easy that, by the time her hands met the ground and her claws dug deep trenches into a couple of continents, the dragoness nearly slapped herself for not having conceived of the idea sooner; all it took was a little bit of muscle power, and a second later she had hopped clear from planet Earth, ending up in low orbit before eventually stopping a few thousand miles away. Even in her hyper-aroused state, Auralia found it odd that she somehow decelerated in space, until she felt something bump into her from behind her field of view, startling her so much that she failed to contain herself; a moment later, the Moon had been swatted away, leaving a very blushy titaness to watch as the small piece of rock careened into the distance, away towards the inky black depths of the cosmos, never to return. This left her and her homeworld alone, to share what now appeared to be a circular orbit around one another; neither of the two were heavy enough to claim dominance, creating a stable (for the time being) system where the planet rotated around the dragoness and the dragoness around the blue marble. Fortunately, this wouldn’t last for much longer; Auralia wouldn’t have to compete with something as mundane as a floating rock for more time than strictly necessary, precisely because she was competing with it: her body being as big as it was, most of the population of the planet could simply look up and see some part of her, even if the poor, unfortunate folks on the other side could only make out the tip of her claws and head. But with this came further clarity, further evidence that what they were looking at was not just a giantess, not just a big dragoness with massive milkers, but a true, honest-to-life goddess, come to bless their existence and ask for so little in return… merely worship. It was such a good deal that it was no wonder Auralia was taking all of that wealth and turning it into more itself, the sort of thought that made sense only in the minds of those for whom the rest of the universe may as well not even exist; they looked up, and there they saw her: their goddess, their deific ruler… mostly obscured by a pair of tits that were significantly larger than they were, and most likely on the right path to drowning everyone with the two planet-sized tidal waves of molten gold being produced every half-second, but their goddess regardless. And for every moment that they spent worshipping her, she grew larger; for every parcel of their wealth promised to her, she bloated further, for every kind word given, every prayer directed at her, she filled and burgeoned and swelled, until the very sky was nothing but gold, and not the melted variety either. For Auralia, it was an inherently transcendent process, where her very frame became so immense that, even if she were to try and interact with her old homeworld, she wouldn’t be able to; either her claws would break it apart or she’d accidentally swat it aside like she did with the Moon, leaving very few options but to leave it nestled in her bosom as she kept taking up even more space in the planet’s old orbit, the one that the dragoness, by that point, had hijacked entirely for herself. ‘Twas only then that Auralia realized that her old world had become so tiny; it almost felt impossible that just moments before she had still been planetbound, that her body had been, if not necessarily fitting, at least small enough to still exist on Earth without completely destabilizing the rest of the Solar System. Now though, it was as if she’d blinked and the tiny blue marble was there, nestled right where her tits met just underneath her collarbone, begging to be pushed into her expansive, warm cleavage; to think that everything that had made her the way she was, every last bit of currency, family heirloom, hell, even particularly shiny rock that someone happened to like, was all contained in that one, frankly miniscule little sphere… and to think that despite all of this, she still wasn’t done. For the dragoness, this came as a legitimate surprise; surely, even after having accrued the sum total of the planet’s wealth, she’d still have an upper limit, as money wasn’t exactly infinite. Yet, despite the fact that there was most likely not much left, she found herself quickly approaching the size of the Sun, at a rate so great that it would only be a few minutes before she utterly demolished it, leaving Earth to be illuminated and warmed solely by her own, glorious form. She couldn’t possibly have known that her sheer size, combined with the magnitude of her power, had actually succeeded in breaking through yet another conceptual line, that of the very definition of wealth to begin with: if there was no more monetary value to be gained, no trinkets to be won, no material possessions that could be offered, then she couldn’t just stop growing, that was ridiculous! Thus, the universe went around this by simply attributing some degree of “value” to the very worship she was receiving, enough that each prayer, each thought, contributed more to her form than any sum of money ever could; not just that, but as she grew larger, so too did her followers’ devotion skyrocket alongside her, kickstarting a vicious cycle from which neither party would ever want to back down from: Auralia grew, the spectacle of her form became ever more radiant, and the heaven she had created for the tiny ones on her homeworld only became more perfect as a result, leading to more intense worship and the utter obliteration of anything remotely resembling limits or a remote sense of decency. There would be nothing holding her back, not even when the Sun smacked against her right tit (or, perhaps more accurately, she slammed into it), not even when the lights went out, leaving only the dragoness to become the singular shining beacon to keep her world of supplicants safe and sound. There would be nothing to stop her as her body adapted to the constant influx of ever more powerful prayer, not just forcing her form to bloat outwards at an increasingly higher rate, but even managing to create episodes of multiplication; if two breasts weren’t enough to safeguard the planet and flood the universe with molten gold, then she’d need to have four just to be safe. If there was no other creature out there who could ever possibly satisfy her, then clearly she should create her own distractions, something long, turgid and thick enough to be squeezed in the middle of her tits and pressed on from all sides, creating a third source of liquid splendour to turn the universe a shade or two lighter. And, ultimately, there would be nothing capable of keeping her from obliterating everything in her path, from consuming nebulae, stars, entire clusters, galactic arms, the core, and whatever happened to be located in intergalactic space, at least until she became titanic enough to draw in the very physical structure of the universe at large, leading to it collapsing inwards, further feeding her endless hunger. There’d be nothing there to keep her from making the lights go out completely, condemning existence to the void for all of eternity, apart from her precious planet full of worshippers, of course. And there’d be nothing stopping her from going further, of course. Why stop at one universe?

Will approached the pool of deep salt water at the end of a cave, his sword held high and ready. The water was actually the only way in and out, so the only light was the shifting patterns painted on the rock walls from the light outside the cave reflecting back up through the water. Because of this, he seen the break in light and the giant shadow across the cave as a dragon lunged out of the water at him. He swung his sword but the dragon already had momentum and hit him first. It rammed him with the flat top of its head and threw him ten feet through the air. Will got up very slowly, groaning and removing his chest armor and shirt to investigate the hit. The dragon stopped her advance immediately and the long leaf shaped blade-like scales on her back all sat back town smooth against her body- no longer feigning aggression. Easily identified as a female by the large bulges just behind the joints of her jaw. Only females had flame glands, males had a fire crest- seen as a patch of translucent flesh on the throat just below the jaw. Her name is Pabaltiui, but draconic did not roll off human tongue so Will just called her Blue for the tone of her skin. Her scales were stone grey, but only covered the back of her neck, torso, and tail- the rest of her is smooth, tight skin of pastel blue color. Dragon were not really reptiles after all, as much as they may anatomically resemble them- dragon's blood was hot to the touch. Her tail was long and her neck much longer than that, with a triangular slightly boxy head resembling a snakes. She only had two limbs, giant wings with two large clawed digits on the forward crook. She walked on the knuckles of these two digits, using her tail to balance when she stood still. The membrane on her wings is a dense hide, not at all fit for flying- they were used as huge fins. She flew through water, not air. She looked like an aerial dragon- Wyvern- at first, but is a Leviathan, an aquatic dragon. Blue isn't exactly huge, but her head was still the size of Will's upper torso. They were just pretend fighting, because Will is a dragonslayer. He was appointed to kill one of her siblings who had become a maneater, and found Blue instead. Realising she had no love for the rogue of her clutch, he employed her help to train him and since then developed an odd relationship with her. Blue carefully walked over to Will, looking sympathetic toward half his chest being dark red, and likely dark purple later in the day. It was hard for her to judge how hard to hit him. He wanted to train so she needed to do something to him, but he was like a toy to her- she could shatter his bones entirely on accident. While distracted feeling his tenderized torso, Blue quickly coiled around him, returning to in front while her tail lifted him up in a cradle of warm rubbery flesh. Her neck was much longer and thinner than her tail, so due to girth and length, this was about the extent of her tail's ability- she could wrap around or under him but not coil him up. She smiled at him, saying she would make him feel better. Will tried to escape but her tail shifted whenever he tried to raise himself up, causing him to fall back between. She hooked her front teeth on his armored pants and slid them off. She had to be careful with that as well- her teeth were narrow curved and extremely sharp, meant to shred flesh. They actually lay flat when her mouth is closed, but when they stand up they are dangerous weapons. She held his shoulder with her two digit pseudo-hands and gently massaged the muscle, while she snaked her long narrow tongue out and softly started to trace his genitals. His frustration at his training progress made him difficult to get up, but her slick tongue was a hard thing to resist. It was the reason her neck was so long- she lurches forward and grabs prey with her tongue to drag them back into her long fangs. Her hands started to wander all down his torso and back again, gently rubbing and squeezing. Each digit ended in a claw, but they were not very sharp at all since they wore down from gripping terrain. The digits were squat looking and the flesh on the underside was very plush. Will finally just relaxed, closing his eyes, feeling her warm breath on his skin. Her nostrils were on the top of her face and quite long, but closed completely when not being used to keep water out. They take in a lot of air quickly, and can hold it in for a very long time. Her eyes had a second translucent eyelid as well, for seeing while submerged. Most notable in this situation though, is the fact her cloaca needs to be watertight, even against the crushing pressure of the ocean depths. So while it was almost big enough to swallow his entire body, it was also very, VERY tight. She hoisted him up like a small child and let him drop onto her as she playfully rolled backward into the pool of water. She trapped air pockets under the long scales on her back, allowing her to float effortlessly. She squirmed her body, causing him to slide down her slick skin till he sat at the bottom of her ribs. She hugged him briefly, squeezing him tightly enough that he had to hold his breath. The thick skin on her wings were always so hot. When she released him she brought her head down to him and resumed pleasuring him, but this time closed her entire mouth around both his balls and penis. Her lips were very soft and plush but did not look it from the outside- in fact there was no indication she even had lips from the outside. Still in her mouth Blue's tongue became squat, softer and much wider, giving her a bit less control over it but making it feel absolutely amazing for Will. She teased the tip of her tail between his butt cheeks, pressing slowly along his taint. Her eyes were as big as softballs at least, and her iris a halfway point between pink and orange, and watched him carefully- bemused by his squirming. He groaned as he approached climax, and Blue slid the end of her tail into his butt, smushing up against his prostate just as he climaxed. She relaxed in the water, letting him catch his breath and enjoy the afterglow. It was hard to tell if she was just relaxing, or listening- her ears were under the water surface and she could hear sound underwater from miles away. Will turned around on all fours, and looked over the thin pink crevice on her underside. Her body was streamlined so you actually couldn't outwardly see the difference from ribs to belly to hip and tail- it was all one constant curve. The slit was very long but a lot of it was soft flesh, meant to become very loose to accept huge phallus, and then constrict to a point even liquid could not pass. The actual hole was relatively small, but Blue would crush him if she constricted so he still had way more to fill than his dick could have done anyway. Will ran his fingers along the edge of outer flesh and the immense pink curtains circling the hole in the middle. He slowly parted the slit till he could see into her passage, and then brought his feet up, and started to lower his entire body in! In terms of girth, his entire body actually exceeded most dragon dicks of Blue's class. Terrestrial, subterranean, aerial, and aquatic dragons all had different shaped genitals though, to match their body type. Will was still nothing compared to a subterranean Wyrm dragon. He spread his arms around either side of her since her body was much more narrow down there, and used them as leverage to squirm in and out of her. She had no clit, but instead her entire passage was covered with large firm bumps that had more sensation than the rest of the passage. Will had to be careful not to let them yank him too far in, because they naturally gripped and pulled inward on whatever was inside. He timed himself with their pull, so he slipped out a bit as soon as they relaxed so he never got farther in or out of her. She started to squirm quite a bit, splashing him with water a few times by accident. Her cheeks flushed a Rosen hue as she let out soft giggles of pleasure in her deep womanly voice. In the small cave, the walls and even the waters surface seemed to reverberate with her huge voice. Will felt the passage twitch, starting to squeeze dangerously tight. He hoisted himself out, pressing against her insides and dragging along the flesh on his way out. Her cloaca squeezed shut behind him and her body arched up as all her muscles tightened. It looked like she was holding her breath too, and squeaked in pleasure as her long slit let out a quick burst of liquid in orgasm. She relaxed instantly and let her breath out in a huge satisfied sigh, slamming back onto the water causing her to bob on the surface so much that Will fall in. Good thing he was nude now- no one can swim in plate armor. He pulled himself up onto the round pebble floor of the cave and sighed as he watched Blue giggle and slither around on the water upsidedown. His dragonslayer training was progressing at a snails pace...but she was training him real good at pleasuring her. Pabaltiui's cave was devoid of golden trinkets- Will was this dragon's treasure. At this rate he should just hang up his sword and fuck her rogue sibling into submission.

It had been some time since she’d last seen anyone from the research team, which Pavita interpreted as it being safe to assume that they were permanently done with her. After the amount of damage done to a significant chunk of the country as a result of her previous pregnancy, one could be forgiven for assuming that the people responsible wouldn’t want to get within a million miles of her; unfortunately for them, they still needed data, any data really, in order to justify the entire endeavour, lest the whole thing have to be deemed a failure and written off, which no one involved in the project wanted to do. That said, the moment they could cut ties with the broodmother, they did, leaving her alone with her new house, a new body, and a significant amount of money as a result of that second one. It was, perhaps, entirely unsurprising that going through a pregnancy of such magnitude that her water breaking flooded multiple states left Pavita with some changes to her bodily structure; any regular pregnancy would, so something on the level of what she went through was sure to do so as well. More surprisingly, Pavita was still mobile even after everything she went through, though just barely: with a pair of breasts that were both permanently lactating and still producing so much they needed to be milked once every couple of hours, big enough they were a mere inch off the ground even when Pavita stood up completely, it was almost enough to miss the fact that her lower body had been affected as well; though the turkey’s tits were the clear star of the show, having received most of the additional mass she retained from her pregnancy, her hips and thighs had gained a substantial amount of pudge as well, enough that, when coupled with her prodigious rear, she often got stuck in doors that weren’t designed for those with extra-large body sizes like herself. Of course, no doors were ever ready for her bust, which even when fully drained still managed to protrude some three feet to either side of her, but what was she to do? That was her body, and it was just the way that she wanted it to be… for her first pregnancy, at least. After all, if there was one thing the project had proven, it was that her womb was both incredibly fertile and highly adaptive, capable of withstanding broods where the young were of a radically different species from her; and while no one in any position of authority was even remotely willing to let her anywhere near the size she reached with her first go, there were those in governmental offices who saw her as an opportunity to reestablish some environmental balance: namely, having Pavita repopulate entire species that were either on the brink of extinction at the hands of civilization, or had gone extinct through a variety of not-entirely-natural reasons. In return, she wouldn’t have charges pressed against her for causing so much damage that the whole country nearly went into a recession because of her, and would have her housing and basic needs accounted for. As far as Pavita cared, this was the absolute best case scenario for her; in fact, she couldn’t possibly think of any set of circumstances that left her in a better winning position, hence why she not only jumped at the opportunity, but outright offered to put in any extra work that was needed of her. Ultimately though, the large manor and the stipend were just bonuses; the real prize, the actual reason for why she had taken the job, was the effect all those extra pregnancies had on her body: the growth, the thickening, the increased milkiness, all of it was a constant reminder of just how far she had come ever since starting her journey, and while having more money to spend was certainly nice and all, it hardly compared to waking up every day and finding her tits to be slightly larger, or her thighs fatter, or even ass wider. It was a slow process, especially since one of the main stipulations of her new contract work was that she was required to be on a metric ton of medication designed to slow down and hamper her fertility, but it was a process; one inch at a time, those slow gains added up, and the end result was an increasingly bigger, increasingly heavier, increasingly more beautiful form for her to admire in whatever reflective surface was nearest to her. And, for the longest while, she was perfectly fine that way: a contract would arrive, she’d set aside the next few months for a brand new pregnancy, and by the end, she’d be thicker, more heavyset, and carrying a pair of tits that was even larger than it had been at the start, even in the vanishingly few occasions were it was actually drained of its contents; it eventually became all-but impossible to reach this mythical state, however, given that her productivity had been improved so much that just a single, unfettered second could fill a gallon jug, and Pavita had to walk around with a portable set of pumps, one for each breast, just to keep herself from becoming immobilized on her baseline milkiness alone… even though, on occasion, she would “forget” to turn them on properly, or leave them behind outright, requiring a quick call to the emergency services for them to come fetch and then milk her down to a more manageable size. Granted, what counted as “manageable” for her became far more detached from what it did to everyone else; as far as Pavita cared, her being stuck atop a pair of milktanks bigger than she was did not constitute anything out of the ordinary, and given that this could happen with minimal effort on her part, it honestly wasn’t. It was the rest of the world that hadn’t kept up with her, the rest of the world that needed to check whether or not their definitions were still up to date, not her, especially not when she knew for a fact that she was living life to the fullest every single day; everyone else had to deal with such ridiculous concerns as “salaries” or “rent”, while she only had to be impregnated, one time after another, then watch as not only did she birth new life into a world that desperately needed it, but was blessed with a body that was at once even readier for another pregnancy than it had been before her latest one ended, and a set of proportions that no one would be able to resist. In fact, more often than not, Pavita had to be careful not to cause a scene as a result of so many would-be suitors deciding to approach her in public, in those few occasions where she decided to go shopping herself rather than have groceries delivered; she wasn’t exactly unknown to the general public (how could she be, after she almost wrecked the whole country?), and while many would love nothing more than for her to go away and never bother them again, many more saw her as Pavita saw herself: a gorgeous icon of fertility that deserved nothing less than worship… and further breeding, obviously. Yet, for all that her new job brought her a level of joy that she never thought possible, as time went on and her size gains began to slow down, Pavita came to realize that she was approaching the limits of what her physical form could achieve, at least from what she was being offered. She could, at any point, simply stop taking the medication holding her back, but doing so would inevitably lead to her losing access to those very same contracts that had made her the way that she was, not to mention make her liable for whatever damages may occur. Yet, at the same time, Pavita couldn’t help but want to go wild, even when she knew that doing so would only be a temporary solution to a much larger problem; when her next explosive growth burst was over, what was she supposed to do then? Beg for someone to knock her up and pray that the ensuing pregnancy reached even half of the height that the last two colossal ones had? No, she needed something different, not just something more; a change in quality, rather than just quantity, though how exactly she was meant to achieve that was anyone’s guess. The best Pavita could do was try and convince her handlers to give her larger assignments and hope that led anywhere, though by the time she was helping to repopulate the Siberian steppe with a brand new species of mammoth and absolutely nothing had changed in any meaningful way, Pavita began wondering whether any real change was possible, or if she was doomed to a life where she would be merely bigger than just about anyone else on the planet. It was during one of her low moments, when her mind was criss-crossed by the sort of thoughts that the turkey was normally capable of pushing away, that enlightenment came, though not in the way one would expect; there was no new idea, no epiphany leading her to a new discovery about herself, and certainly no breakthrough in uncovering a new path for her to take. Rather, one day, as Pavita was trying her best to distract herself by watching television reruns while draining herself into her home’s underground tanks, she heard a voice calling for her. It was odd, in that she didn’t really “hear” it so much as it was just there; much like when she was about to fall asleep, and in the exact moment when her brain was supposed to shut down, she instead resurfaced to full alertness again, suddenly being made aware that she was hearing things that weren’t there, perhaps as a precursor to a dream. It made her wonder whether her name being called was just that: a creation of her own mind, one that she was only aware of thanks to random happenstance keeping her from dozing off. Such suspicions, however, would be proven false when she “heard” the voice again, that time far clearer than before; it was enough to get her to flinch and try to clamber onto her feet, though given the size and weight of her milkers, doing such a thing was borderline impossible. Only then did Pavita realize how vulnerable she was if anyone actually broke into her home… but, turning around, she saw absolutely no one. Confused, the turkey kept swivelling her head from side to side, letting out a short yelp when she heard her name again, only to then realize she wasn’t hearing it from anywhere; rather, it came from inside her, somehow, as if her mind had suddenly developed a voice of its own and began speaking to her directly. It took a while before she was calm enough to realize it wasn’t her own tone coming from inside, and even longer before Pavita came to terms with the fact that this was actually happening, and she wasn’t just hallucinating the whole thing; even then, constantly hearing her name on repeat didn’t exactly leave her feeling anything remotely close to comfortable, which was exactly why the only response she could think to give was to turn her head up to the sky, open her beak, and bellow: “What?!” Not exactly nice, quite rude in fact, and it was thus unsurprising that the call-outs stopped for a short while. It seemed that whatever entity or force was trying to get her attention hadn’t expected her to react so aggressively, especially since, when the voice did come back again, it sounded apologetic enough that whoever was responsible for it was most likely genuinely sorry. “Our apologies, Miss Pavita,” the disembodied voice spoke up, leaving the turkey even more on edge than before, “but we simply couldn’t reach you in any other way. Your kind yet lacks the technology needed to directly interface with us, so we had to resort to more direct methods; hopefully you will understand the severity of our request, and thus our need to turn to such rudimentary communication.” Rudimentary communication? Pavita didn’t know what was worse: the implication that she and the rest of furkind were some kind of savages, or the idea that telepathy was considered so basic that it was only used as a last resort. Worse still was the fact that she was actually believing what the voice was telling her, rather than freaking out and calling for an ambulance because she was very clearly hearing things that weren’t there. Then again, in for a penny, in for a pound; she already answered the phantom being once, might as well see what her own head came up with. “Ok, then who are you then?” Pavita demanded, both hands on her hips in an attempt at appearing intimidatory that only ended up highlighting how silly she looked in that pose when said hips were wider than her torso. “Who we are is unimportant for the time being; we also lack identifying names like your kind uses, so unless you would ask us our filing numbers, we’re afraid we must simply refer to ourselves by our titles as Communicators,” the voice explained, drawing a prolonged sigh out of Pavita for her own lack of originality, “the point being, we are here to extend an offer to you.” “An… offer.” “Yes. After prolonged analysis of your biological capacity, we have ascertained that you possess the unique traits required for an ongoing repopulation project undertaken by one of our subsidiary branches. You would not be familiar with them, but they perform much the same task as the governmental institutions you are currently working with; merely on a grander scale.” For a moment, Pavita was actually listening. Sure, it was just her brain coming up with what she wanted to hear, but it was what she wanted to hear, and if this was the easiest way to get herself locked into a delusion where she got to experience everything she wanted, then who was she to say no to that opportunity? “Define grander,” the turkey mused aloud. “Currently, said subsidiary is involved in the repopulation of multiple galactic arms in what your kind has termed NGC-1084; a spiral galaxy some distance away from yours. A series of supernovae events have led to an unfortunate reduction in biodiversity, hence why our department was tasked with finding and recruiting new assistants for the repopulation effort. We offer steady pay, lodgings, and a generous severance package should you, for whatever reason, be asked to leave the project on positive terms; in return, we would require your full cooperation for the foreseeable future, though no more than ten years’ work.” If ever there was a time for Pavita to start questioning her sanity, it was right then, because for whatever reason she actually thought it was a good idea to agree to what the voice was telling her. It was, of course, just her own head telling her what she wanted to hear, yet she couldn’t just turn it away, not after being given such a fantastic offer; what if she successfully created a hyper-realistic hallucination for herself to fall into? What if she was actually dreaming, and this was just her mind’s way of coming up with a justifiable premise? Whatever the case, she clearly couldn’t just scoff and tell the voice to go away; rather, what she needed to do was nod along, give it a few seconds to seem as if she was considering it, and then finally reply with: “I’m listening.” “Thank you for considering,” the voice replied, sounding incredibly relieved, “we were concerned that our unannounced visit might have caused a certain degree of hostility, but we’re glad to see that you understand our plight. In regards to the offer itself, I’m afraid that’s all we can really tell you; the specifics, should you accept it, will be provided by the sub-department in charge of the operation. If you so wish, you may initiate your employment with us post-haste.” “What, do I just ask you to beam me up?” “We no longer utilize teleportation beams,” the entity stated matter-of-factly, “but yes, we would handle transportation as required; a custodian will be left to guard your possessions for the full duration of your employment with us, though any prior contracts will be, by necessity, nullified.” Pavita chuckled, unable to contain herself any longer. If this was a fantasy, it was certainly a convoluted one, but who was she to say no anymore? Barely capable of holding back from cackling at the absurdity of it all, she offered a quick “Sure”, fully expecting either nothing to happen or for herself to suddenly be strapped to an operating table with a bunch of horny aliens around her all waiting for an opportunity to dig in. Instead, she blinked, and the next moment she was no longer standing in her living room, but rather in what appeared to be a perfectly regular doctor’s office; the whiplash was enough to send her flinching backwards yet again, at which point she almost smashed into a glass cabinet if not for the fact that her tits were so heavy that they served as their own brake. Pavita had a few seconds to wonder about what had just happened before the door to her right, which she hadn’t noticed until then, opened up… revealing another avian much like herself; in fact, they looked incredibly similar to her, or at least a male version of her, down to their package, in an astounding display of symmetry, being immensely oversized compared to the rest of their lithe frame. “We apologize for the suddenness of it,” he spoke up, his voice possessed of a certain reverberating quality; it was only then that Pavita noticed the young man was wearing a stereotypical doctor’s labcoat, even if it looked different each time she blinked, as if her eyes couldn’t decide on what they were actually seeing, “and rest assured, any visual distortions are merely a result of your optical cortex attempting to process the information we’re providing for it; needless to say, we find it far better to meet our prospective employees in a setting familiar to them, and from what we understand, this is a standard workspace for a physician back on your planet, is it not? Regardless,” the creature carried on without waiting for an answer, “we’ve taken the time to thoroughly analyze your fertility potential, and we believe we have the perfect assignment for you. Please hold.” There was a moment in which silence fell between the two, one where Pavita was left confused as to what was happening. The turkey in front of her appeared to freeze in place for an instant before moving again, the colour of their eyes having shifted from a pale blue to a dull green; in their hand, seemingly procured from nowhere, was now a clipboard with a thick layer of papers stuck to it. “Greetings, Miss Pavita,” the entity spoke again, their voice entirely different from before, “we’ve taken control of this avatar for the time being. We would introduce ourselves, but unfortunately your species lacks the sensory organs required to understand it; now, in regards to the contract…” Still shocked and stunned by everything that had happened in the last minute or so, Pavita could do very little but stand there and stare back at whatever was in front of her, hoping they would understand that they couldn’t just do that and expect her to go along with it. Unfortunately, whatever creature that thing was, it apparently figured the best thing to do was get down to brass tacks and start explaining what Pavita’s “assignment” entailed, as well as what would be expected of her as an employee of some organization whose name she couldn’t even think about without growing a pounding headache. Despite this, and perhaps because the creature decided to speak in terms that Pavita could actually understand when it came to breeding and pregnancies, the turkey found herself actually paying attention… after a fashion. It took a while for her to tune back to whatever constituted reality, no longer thinking about whether or not the whole thing was a dream sequence, at which point some very familiar concepts began to filter pass her stunned self: long-term pregnancies, repopulating entire species, expected “growth parameters”, that sort of thing; it was all discussed in scales far beyond what she was used to, with constant references to not just entire planets, but stellar clusters and even more, with the thing (or things) piloting the man in front of her letting her know, in no uncertain terms, that they were looking for someone who could help them birth trillions upon trillions of new lives without breaking a sweat. Pavita herself, at that point, could barely hold back the beads of sweat falling down her brow, staring at a contract whose lettering shifted between alien symbols and perfectly understandable English; all she could think of were the key-words spoken to her, that she would be expected to grow far beyond that which she had ever grown, that rather than it being forbidden, it would be expected of her. She wouldn’t have to worry about destroying anything, as the whole point was for her womb to reach sizes that would be unthinkable to anyone back home… well, anyone but her. She knew full well just what she was capable of; the only reason her homeworld hadn’t already been covered by her body was because she chose to hold back for the sake of her own enjoyment, but now? Now that she was given the chance to not only live up to her fullest potential, but expand it as well? It hardly mattered that it was still most likely a fantasy cooked up by her sleeping brain, Pavita had to take the entity up on its offer as quickly as she could. Nevermind the side effects or how they kept telling her that she would have to go through extensive rehabilitation just to go back to a state where she could remain mobile after her contract was over; all the turkey could think of was herself, larger than ever before, eclipsing planets and stars and who knew whatever else in her endless, constant expansion, in her fertile growth that would flood the whole galaxy in her young. It was straight out of some deranged fanfic for a sci-fi F-grade porn flick, but really, what wasn’t when it came to her? She wasn’t interested in any deeper meaning, she just wanted to be pregnant, to feel everything that came along with it, until she was so overloaded by the sensations that she could feel no longer. Honestly, it was a wonder she managed to go nearly ten minutes without furiously nodding while asking for a pen to sign the many pages she was being shown, at which point she still had to fight with whoever was inside the thing in front of her when they had to go through the typical rigmarole of “Are you sure”s and “Please read the fine print”s; she didn’t need to read anything else, only to sign it, only to get things rolling, only to have her body be transformed into what it was always meant to be: an eternally-growing baby factory for whatever babies those people needed her to carry. Did it matter that these young would be literal aliens, that she would most likely need to be dosed up with some truly ludicrous amounts of medication in order to carry them to term? No, it didn’t; what mattered was that she was going to carry them to term, and as quickly as possible if those aliens knew what was good for them. Besides, it was her fantasy, so clearly she was in control there; once again, nevermind the fact that she ordered them around and they actually fought back, or the simple fact that things actually felt real as opposed to aetherial and dreamlike. There was a part of her that recognized that this couldn’t possibly be all in her head, that it was happening and she had just signed herself on for ten years of intensive (literal) labor… but, if that was the case, then what was the loss there? If she was actually there, if the sequence of events had actually happened, then she was still standing inside a makeshift doctor’s office being told that her womb was about to be used to repopulate a dozen or so planets all at once, via complex mechanisms that she couldn’t even be bothered to try and understand; for Pavita, it was a win-win situation: either it was a dream or a delusion, and she’d get to experience it without any consequences, or it was actually happening, which was even better as far as she cared. There was no attachment to her planet left in her, not beyond the fact that, up until very recently, it was the only source of possible pregnancies for her; now that she knew better though, the turkey barely even considered going back, already making plans to ask for an extension on her contract if altogether possible. The entity next to her was certainly surprised, but they seemed capable of rolling with the punches as they simply gave Pavita more pages to sign before turning around and leaving the room, asking her to wait until the next attendant showed up; this didn’t take much longer, with yet another avian of similar proportions to the first one having to exercise extreme caution when entering the room, seeing as their test subject could barely contain herself any longer. Pavita was a hair’s breadth away from simply throwing herself at whoever appeared in front of her, flattening them against a wall and demanding to know when she could be knocked up; it took her noticing the very large medical trolley the second entity was pulling behind them for her to stop, figuring that it most likely held the secrets to her ascension into broodmother status. What followed, unfortunately, were a very long few minutes where this other person (or persons, it was hard to tell) gave her the whole speech about what the procedure would be like, the immediate effects of it, and so on and so forth; Pavita genuinely had to stop herself from making hand gestures to let her attendant know to hurry up, believing that it was better for her to act like she was going to be fully compliant until it was too late for her new handlers to do anything about it. After all, there was no way she was going to just do whatever they wanted her to do, not after such an opportunity made itself known to her; the aliens might think that she was agreeing to the terms, but Pavita knew better. They knew of what she was capable of when contained, when held back; they would soon learn of what her true capabilities were like, when she didn’t have to worry about taking medicine to keep herself from destroying her planet. Sure, maybe her new employers thought they knew what her full capabilities were like; perhaps they had convinced themselves that their mathematical models, whatever they were, let them have a general sense of what the turkey would be like at maximum capacity, and maybe these were even somewhat accurate for what they had seen back on Earth. But when the scene melted around her, when the doctor’s office was replaced by a more surgical setting and she was asked to lie down on a table, when a set of tubes were lowered from the ceiling and hooked to her tits in order to drain them, that’s when things were destined to go off the rails. Perhaps the creatures believed that Pavita would take some time before exhibiting any signs of pregnancy; not too much, obviously, but certainly not immediately after the cells were implanted into her, certainly not for her belly to suddenly balloon outwards to about a dozen times its original size just seconds after the first fertilization. With no one there to attend to her, the whole process having been conducted with what looked to be automated machinery, it was hard for Pavita to truly gauge just what everyone’s reactions had been, but given that her initial growth spurt had far outpaced anything she had experienced before, she could only assume that she was in for the ride of her life. The turkey got to watch as two gouts of milk erupted from her swollen nipples before the suction cups attached to them simply shattered into pieces; her womb growing with all the new life she was to carry had a similar effect on her bust, which went from merely big enough to cover her whole front down to the ground, to each tit being bigger than a family van, slamming heavily and loudly on the ground on both sides of her. The sloshing coming from within them was insane, the milk production causing it being so ludicrously overtuned that no amount of suction would ever be capable of dealing with what she had to offer… though that was mostly because she went from her regular state, to producing so much milk that her nipples just couldn’t handle the output. In one moment, in a single instant, she had nearly tripled the size of each tit and caused her milkiness to rise to the point where she literally couldn’t drain fast enough to deal with everything she was making; even better, her ass and thighs had fattened so quickly as well that the table she was on was left in tatters, broken into multiple misshapen bits. A single moment, and already she was bigger than most pregnancies back on Earth had left her… … and then another moment passed.

The couch groaned when the lynx landed on it, no care for the Rena sitting right next to them. After a long day at work doing sweet FA, all the feline cared about was unwinding and blowing off some steam; to that end, Spikes provided the best possible solution, seeing as he was there, he was eager, and he was also too tired to really say no to a tittyhug. As usual, the shirt keeping those things contained was melted down rather than removed; the shapeshifter had long since decided against the use of clothing, preferring to use some of their mass to mimic their effects and look. It was easier to “remove” once they got home, spared them a lot of money on repairing torn fabric, and honestly was just more comfortable all around; rather than having to spend a whole day being suffocated by a button-up shirt several sizes too small, they could simply will themselves into a form that was both “decent” and comfy enough to wear. It also meant they could have fun making their tits bounce around once the “clothing” was “taken off”; it took some effort to do, but goodness did it ever make Spikes sweat every time he saw it happen, enough that the Rena’s reaction in and of itself was enough of a reward for Tim to do it ​every single day​. That time, however, was slightly different; with the AC broken in the office and work being especially demanding, the lynx was feeling a pressing need to snuggle something cute, fuzzy and just as eager to snuggle back. Spikes fulfilled all of these requirements, and thus his involvement became necessary; the Rena was well aware of this, and knowing what was awaiting him, took the opportunity to use the bounce generated by the lynx landing his fat ass on the couch to get on his feet… only to then immediately turn around and plop onto their partner’s bosom, sinking his head into the surprisingly firm cleavage. “Well, you’re eager today,” the feline murred, bringing a hand to Spikes’ head to ruffle up their fluff, “I was just about to ask, but if you’re gonna just do it…” The Rena said something, muffled by the several pounds of tit in between him and the outside world. As was usual, his hands immediately met soft breastflesh, sinking into it as far down as they could go; considering how ​dense​ the lynx’s body was, however, this wasn’t saying much. ​Moving​ those breasts around was practically impossible, but at least it gave him something to do while his lover unwinded from a long, hot day. “You know, I’ve been thinking of changing my style,” the feline carried on, purring softly while gently patting the Rena buried in their chest, “I dunno, the waistcoat thing just isn’t doing it for me anymore. Maybe something casual, some novelty shirts? Maybe go back to jeans, I dunno… what do you think, hun?” There was some muffled grunting coming from that immense marshmallow valley, but nothing that could be really understood. The lynx considered leaving Spikes in there, simply carrying on the one-sided conversation… but they did actually want an answer that time around, which meant lifting the poor boy up from his heavenly resting place just so he could say something.​ “I ​was​ asking a question, hun~” “Anything that makes your tits stand out more,” came the Rena’s reply, wriggling out from the feline’s grasp and sinking back into where he had just come from. Tim, for their part, just sighed and went along with it; it was no secret that their relationship was more or less centered around how much carnal pleasure they could squeeze out of one another, with the Rena somehow ending up on top thanks to their seemingly-endless stamina. The lynx may be able to shift and change their form at will, but Spikes not only matched their enthusiasm, they ​surpassed i​ t. It had never been Tim who broke the bed, or scratched the walls, or even clogged the bathtub with multiple consecutive releases; the Rena’s apparent submission to his partner’s body belied a far more dominant nature that he liked to keep under wraps, seen only when the two were safe in the privacy of their own bedroom. Within Spikes, however, there lay a desire for something… more. Sure, he had at his disposal a being that could literally become anything he could imagine, but that was just it: that being was someone else. His own assets were nothing to scoff at; just the previous week he’d had to purchase some new compressor gear after waking up even larger than before, and one of the main reasons the two of them got together was precisely ​because​ the lynx was one of the only people that could ever hope to take him at his full size… but coming back to see those two enormous mounds, jiggling and wobbling around with each step, sloshing quietly with their seldom-seen milky content, it awakened something inside of him that he rarely ever thought about, let alone gave any serious consideration. It was an insane proposal, one that he shouldn’t ever take seriously… … and yet… There was no denying that Spikes felt a constant pang of jealousy towards the cat. He knew it was absurd, since the lynx’s form was one ​he​ had chosen to begin with; when the two had met, Tim preferred to keep their shape to that of a perfectly normal, if slightly curvier-round-the-bottom feline. It was only after their relationship took off and the two agreed to move in together that the Rena grew bold enough to start asking for… modifications. A bit of extra pudge here, some size there, and eventually the lithe lynx had turned into what they were today: an eight-foot-tall cat with an ass wide enough to get stuck in doors and two tits that were each heavy enough to break a table in half if they weren’t careful. It was all entirely for Spikes’ sake as well; if Tim had their way, they’d just go back the usual. But seeing as their lover had a predilection for the larger things in life, it had simply become the “accepted” form for the feline to carry around. Thus, it made absolutely no sense for the Rena to feel what he did every time he cast eyes upon them. No sense, and yet it happened anyway; the sight of those breasts was a constant reminder of how barren and flat his own chest was, a cruel twist of fate for someone who was already so well-endowed below the waistline. Some days, he’d wonder if it wasn’t possible for some of his size to just be “transferred” over up top; he wouldn’t mind having to spend less money on compressor gear, plus it’d even his figure out as well, win-win! Sadly, no such thing would ever happen. Hence why Spikes had to take things into his own hands. He had been looking into artificial solutions for some time already, even before meeting the lynx; the Rena had thought that maybe having continuous access to a pair of tits that could be as large as he wanted them to be would quell his desire, and indeed it did… for a time. Soon enough, the hunger for more would come back in full force, leading Spikes to search for ever more extreme alternatives. There were always the “natural” solutions, but those hardly did anything but create small chest bumps. Genemodding was a possibility, albeit a prohibitively expensive one; neither of them were paid oodles of cash, and neither could afford to be the sole breadwinner for the several weeks of continuous treatment required by those clinics. There ​was​ Tim’s constant assertion that Spikes could become a shapeshifter himself, but he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment. That left… one option. It wasn’t the best, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either; in fact, the more the Rena looked into it, the more he grew enamored with the idea. The artificiality of it, the indulgent excess, the promised noises and tactile sensation (or lack thereof), it all contributed to hit a succession of buttons inside of his head that he hadn’t even been aware existed at all before delving into the world of saline implants. To him, it was something that porn stars or “adult entertainers” did to please the crowds, putting on airs and pretending to be oh-so-stuffed and about to burst. But looking into the subject matter revealed that, while those people might be putting on a show, there might genuinely be something to their claims: the remote possibility that he could, indeed, overfill himself to the point where creaking with every step would become a fact of life. He never thought he’d come to enjoy that idea, but the multiple ruined pairs of pants and underwear he went through during his “research” attested to the contrary. Hell, it began invading his dreamscape as well, with the lynx often poking fun at how they’d wake up and see the Rena playing with their non-existent breasts. Spikes, on his end, tried to pass these incidents off as just funny little coincidences, sometimes even making the argument that it was the lynx’s fault for spoiling him with their own ample chest so much; the reasoning was flimsier than a house of cards, but it was a polite fiction both of them just accepted and then moved on from. That is, of course, until the Rena did something about it. The visit to the clinic was one fraught with embarrassment and rampant awkwardness, taking all of Spikes’ energy just for him to keep his composure. He hadn’t expected to see the spectacle of bounciness or the cacophony of creaking and sloshing that met him after crossing those doors; never having visited any place like that, he certainly didn’t ever think he’d see confirmation of his wildest fantasies just lying there for him to see. After such a long time spent looking at articles and pictures, the notion that some of those people might just be carrying on with their lives like it was normal to have their chest and vision obscured by saline-stuffed udders just didn’t occur to him… but it did certainly explain why none of them bothered to give their testimony when it came to living with such massive impediments. He had to ​try​ not to bump into anyone, something he wasn’t quite sure hadn’t been the intention when the building was designed; the waiting rooms were… spacious enough, but considering what kind of work was done there, Spikes had the distinct impression that they were deliberately kept at that size rather than being given some extra space. The end result was that not only did most of the customers waiting for service make a racket just by sitting around, but they were constantly having to excuse themselves so as to not rub up against one another; whenever anyone did, well… the noise of stretched plastic rubbing against itself had never quite felt so alluring. So much so that the Rena found himself wondering what it would be like to experience it in his everyday life, a thought that strayed far too often into his head to simply be ignored at that point. He needed those implants, he needed them as big as they came, and he needed them yesterday. Unfortunately, the doctor who handled his appointment was firm in his assessment that, without the proper kind of “training” and “stretching”, Spikes’ chest just wasn’t ready for the kind of implant insertion that he wanted. The aspiring bustyboy immediately began flipping over to the very end of the book he was given with example photos, at which point the actual medical expert in the room had to very sternly remind him he shouldn’t have gone through more than a couple of pages. “Something like this is a process, you must understand,” he explained, “as much as you may want some of the more end-of-the-line products we offer, your body, simply put, is ​not​ ready.” It was disappointing, but expectable; Spikes knew he wasn’t as flexible as the shapeshifter back at home… but it still stung nonetheless. Curbing his enthusiasm, he instead “settled” for the biggest implants the clinic could safely give him; they were still big enough to significantly stretch out any shirt he wore, especially after he was told he could overfill them to nearly one and a half-times their capacity before tearing became an issue, but it was still nothing more than a stepping stone, as far as Spikes was concerned. The next appointment was scheduled and the Rena made sure to tell Tim that he had a surprise for them on that day, having to exercise so much of his seldom-used willpower to prevent himself from spilling the secret that every day became a nearly impossible challenge. Somehow, Spikes got to the end of those two weeks with only a couple of slip-ups, neither of which tipped Tim off as to the true nature of the surprise. He was lucky that the operation was supposedly advanced enough to be “in-and-out”, as they said; there’d be some soreness and need for lotion, but that’s what the lynx was for back home. All the Rena needed were two steady feet to carry him to and from the clinic, after which he was free to tease his partner as hard as he could. In what amounted to a very pleasant surprise, the implant installation took even less time than expected, just under four hours; during that time, rather than being truly knocked out via anesthetics, Spikes was instead kept “occupied” by a cutting edge neural interface, designed to cut off sensation to the lower body while feeding comforting imagery into the user’s sensory processing centers. For the Rena, this obviously meant interacting with a virtual avatar of himself, one he could modify at will to see just how different sizes would look on them (an odd choice for a clinic claiming to be responsible about growth addiction). Four hours he spent looking at himself sporting increasingly larger sizes, four hours he spent trying to convince himself that just a couple more operations would be enough while his lizard brain screamed the exact opposite ever more loudly. Four hours. That was enough to convince himself he never wanted to actually ​stop.​ With the implants installed and the clinic being nice enough to overfill them for him right there and then, he was told two things: one, he’d need to apply a special lotion to his breasts at least twice a day in order to help his skin stretch out to accommodate larger sizes, and two, he would have to wait at least two weeks before the next shells could be installed. Depending on how much his body “took” to the first two, they would then be able to determine how large of an upgrade they could talk about. Not that Spikes was listening to any of that, being far too busy admiring his new bust and how it, while it wasn’t all that large, well… ​existed.​ It was a dream come true, in a way, even if that dream hadn’t been all that old at all; it would take the Rena a long, ​long​ time before he was anywhere near the size of his natural assets (especially considering they were still growing), but it was a good first step. Grabbing the lotion and then running out of the clinic as fast as he could, Spikes had to deal with the sudden sensation of ​weight​ hanging from an entirely different spot on his body. Used as he was to the pendulous orbs and girthy shaft he’d been gifted with, the Rena would never have expected those comparatively-tiny mounds he had to do anything to his balance. And maybe it wasn’t even their heft; maybe it was the fact that, even at that size, they seemed to creak gently and were so horrifically overstuffed that he felt mildly uncomfortable just having them around. Maybe it was all of those things; all he really knew was that he had to stop halfway down the stairs to the ground level in order to catch his breath, having to be very careful not to just start groping himself out of desperation. Just half an hour. Then he’d be home. Driving back was a chore and a half, a true nightmare considering how much room his tits took up between his chest and the steering wheel. In retrospect, he probably should’ve pushed his seat backwards to give himself some more room; then again, the idea of ​not​ experiencing his saline bags loudly rubbing against the damned thing was just impossible to consider, even if it made driving objectively more dangerous than it had any right to be. Spikes pulled up in front of their apartment building, leaving the task of parking the car in the garage for the lynx whenever they felt like it. Hurrying up the stairs and into their home, he would find Tim patiently waiting for him, lying back on the couch completely nude, as always. Not even giving them a chance to turn their head around, and knowing full well he was heading for a whole world of pain and discomfort, the excited Rena nonetheless ran towards and then threw himself at his waiting partner, immediately regretting it when his stuffed implants cried out in pain from the impact. Still, the lynx’s flustered reaction when he saw their lover suddenly shove a pair of tits onto their own was enough to make the whole thing worth it, and if not for the fact that those saline-stuffed orbs were so sore, then Spikes would’ve turned the impromptu hug-slash-snuggles into something far lewder. As it stood, a few kisses were just fine. “Oh my god, Spikes, what the fuck did you do?!” was Tim’s sole reaction, carefully groping at the Rena’s bust. “N-Not so hard,” was Spike’s moaned response, “th-they’re still r-r-r-eally sensitive…” “I can tell…” The lynx’s voice was as dreamy as the Rena could’ve hoped for, and the look in their eyes made everything so much better than it already was. Didn’t take much of a push for the snuggling to turn into something more, and the neighbours would soon have to contend with the sounds of loud creaking… except just not from the bed. The next few days turned into a new routine. Soreness and mild discomfort became things to deal with, requiring the special lotion the clinic provided to become even mildly tolerable. It wouldn’t be until at least a week passed before his new tits “settled down” and the stretchiness began to take effect, after which it was smooth sailing until the second appointment. In the meantime, however, the two lovers had a lot of fun coming up with new and ingenious ways of turning what was effectively a standard medical procedure into something a lot more enjoyable; hard not to, when it boiled down to rubbing a pair of breasts that were as noisy as overfilled balloons and seemed perfect for slathering with a whole bunch of fluids, not just the ones meant to help them out. Spikes was still not as big as their partner, but that would soon change; with the enthusiasm both of them displayed in preparing the Rena for their next shells, it wasn’t surprising that his body took a lot better to the implants than had been expected… for Spikes at least. His doctor was at a loss for words when it came to his adaptability, insisting on running multiple “just in case” and “triple checking” exams to make sure that his customer’s elasticity was as ridiculously overblown as their size goals were. There was no denying it, however; whether it be due to their status as a hyper or the simple fact that they went through three bottles of lotion when they were only “supposed” to use one, they were more than ready for their next shells. Not only that, but he had done ​so​ well that his doctor offered something of an “alternate route”, as he called it. “While we can carry on with replaceable shells if you want it,” the old dog explained, “we ​do have something of an experimental procedure that you might be interested in. It’s brand new and untested, but we believe it could cater to your… unique demands.” The new shells, as the doctor explained, were not meant to be replaced with newer ones as his body adapted to larger and larger sizes; rather, they were designed from the ground up to expand alongside the breasts they were inside, provided they were given enough time to settle and absorb some of saline to reinforce themselves. The idea, in theory, was simple: have the implants stretch out, take some of the implant material to allow for more “give”, and then go through another filling. Rinse and repeat. In theory​, at least, this meant that rather than having to go through a one-month cycle of replacing his shells, waiting two weeks, filling them up, waiting two more weeks and then getting new implants, Spikes could instead pump himself fuller on a bi-weekly schedule, bypassing the need for any further surgical procedures entirely. It ​would​ require the installation of some weird-looking ports underneath his arms, not to mention having to go through a series of training exercises just to learn how to be able to breathe properly with the amount of pressure the new implants would place on his chest, but the idea was, to put it simply, too delicious to pass up. To the Rena, the whole thing could be summed up in two words: no more. No more waiting for new shells, no more waiting for bigger filling… and certainly no more waiting for his dream to only arrive a couple of years down the line. Assuming it all went according to plan, the only thing required of him would be two visits to the clinic every month, plus any trip he made to the pharmacy for more of the special stretchy lotion he was meant to apply. Spikes could not have signed off on the procedure faster. Thus it was that, rather than coming home even bigger than he was before, the Rena arrived to a very confused lynx asking where all the extra size had gone. When told they’d have to wait for a couple of weeks before that happened, Tim almost looked saddened, something they were quick to rectify when they saw their partner’s shoulders slump. “Hey, hey, it’ll be fine,” they cooed, bringing Spikes into a bosom-filled hug, “just gotta wait two weeks and you’ll get there! Want me to come with?” “... I’d like that, yeah.” Two weeks. Two more weeks where his bust actually got smaller somewhat, thanks to the new implants absorbing some of the saline in preparation for the next stage in Spikes’ plan. Though the Rena was told there’d be no need for more lotion, he kept plastering it all over his tits nonetheless; he figured that making himself even stretchier couldn’t hurt, as that meant the implants inside of him could be filled to an even greater size than the medical team was expecting. Probably not how that worked, but he could always dream. The day arrived and the two drove over to where Spikes’ new appointment was; rather than going to the clinic, they were directed to a secondary facility where all the “test subjects” were meant to fill up. The place was mostly deserted apart from the medical staff, and after checking in, the Rena was informed he was the first person to actually agree to such a radical procedure. Spikes wasn’t quite sure what the clerk meant by “radical”; he felt perfectly fine, practically the same as before! … though he wouldn’t anymore when he walked into the main operating room. The whole thing seemed designed to bring out the lewdest thoughts in those unfortunate enough to have chosen that path for themselves. There were only three things in there, apart from the small control room on the far end: a comfy-looking chair, two support struts in front of it, and a pair of gigantic glass tanks running from the ceiling to the floor, each filled with a clear, familiar solution and emblazoned with a company logo that he didn’t quite recognize, but felt as if he’d seen before. Two hoses emerged from near the bottom of the tubes. It was obvious what they were for. “Please, sit down,” the attending physician instructed, “your partner can wait outside if they want.” “Nah, I’m good,” Tim replied, producing a chair themselves out of their own body, seriously grossing the doctor out and causing Spikes to chuckle, “please, go ahead!” Trying to get the mental image of the lynx making a chair from their own ass out of their mind, the physician focused on getting the Rena to sit down properly. There’d be no need for the struts, seeing as he hadn’t grown ​that​ large yet, but the pumps needed to be carefully coupled to the injection ports, lest the whole thing start leaking onto the floor. “Now, we’re only going to fill you up to about… here,” they said, pointing at a spot near the very top of the saline tanks that had been marked with red ink, “anything more and you’re going to need to sign a waiver, alright?” Spikes nodded, getting comfortable and closing his eyes, waiting for the doctor to make their way to the control room and fiddle around with the system permissions. Took a few minutes of heavy anticipation, but as soon as two loud ​clunks​ were heard, followed by the sound of liquid gurgling and draining out of a container, everything was well. The pumps themselves produced a small whirring, almost impossible to hear over the saline itself being drained out of the tanks and into Spikes’ bust. The pressure inside of him was mounting to immense levels, and if the Rena had the willpower required to actually open his eyes, he would’ve seen his breasts visibly swelling in front of him; as it stood, it fell to his fingers to hold onto his tits, safe from overflowing flesh purely because of how ​stretched​ it was. Truly, his bosom wasn’t growing or expanding, but ​inflating​, like two giant, creaking, sloshing balloons. His mind demanded more, and soon his fingers would be unashamedly playing with his nips, both of which seemed to be getting a little something extra from all the saline being pumped into him. The physician warned him to stop putting pressure on his bust, sheepishly asking the lynx to stop the Rena from nearly bursting the implants on the very first filling. Tim, for their part, was happy to hold down Spikes’ hands; just meant he had a front row seat to the spectacle that was his chest filling so much that his skin began to turn pink from the strain. It was obscene and they loved​ it, so much so that they had to exercise some caution not to let their own pants get so tight they strained against the fabric. After it was all said and done, Spikes took a moment to regain his composure, only to turn his head around and shout at his doctor that he “wasn’t finished”. Sure, his tits might have been made to be twice their previous size, the implants inside struggling to hold onto their new bounty, but the Rena knew he could take more; the old sense of discomfort hadn’t come back yet, meaning the lotion had made him capable of holding far more than whatever measly amount was slorshing about inside of him. The doctor was visibly uneasy with the prospect of filling him even more, what with the creaking turning oddly metallic and incredibly menacing, but all that was needed was a signature, a reassurance that everything would be fine… and they were back in the control room, carefully monitoring the Rena’s vital signs when the pumps were activated again. It was only then that Spikes felt it: pressure. ​Finally,​ only after his tits began to graze against the top of his legs, did he reach his goal for those two weeks, sighting in blissful content after the familiar pain began making itself at home again. The pinkish hue that had taken over his bust became stronger with each second the procedure was allowed to continue, the ever-present groaning and deafening creaking of his implants sounding like the hull of a large ship being twisted and torn apart by large metallic claws. He couldn’t even look around without unleashing a torrent of sounds so horrifyingly loud that the whirring eventually just stopped, the pumps having been shut down by a worried-looking doctor who ran to see if the Rena was fine. And he was. He was ​more​ than fine, in fact; with a bust that had somehow engorged to the point where it was covering his legs almost to the knees (at least when sitting down), Spikes could honestly say he was satisfied… at least until his next top-up. No amount of warnings could dissuade him from further filling, especially not when the lynx helped him up and Spikes got to experience the sheer weight of those overstuffed tankers trying to drag him down. Each step elicited no bounce, but so much noise that the physician had to cover his ears. Tim, meanwhile, was just licking their lips in delight, eager to explore that new bust when they got home. One thing was for certain though, they were going to need a lot more lotion and to apply it far more frequently than before. After all, how could Spikes expect to ​really​ fill up with just two slatherings a day, especially at that size? He was given a set of implants that could take him anywhere he wanted, and really, he didn’t even want to find his limits. He just hoped they didn’t exist in the first place.

It was, at times, hard to tell when she woke up and when she went to sleep, or if her body even acted by those standards anymore. It was entirely possible that she, being a literal goddess, had simply transcended the need for resting, culminating with her being in a state where she didn’t require anything other than her own words: the vixen would order the universe to make her feel rested, and so the universe would obey, nullifying the need for any actual shut-eye. Or, perhaps, the cosmos ceased to exist whenever she wasn’t directly observing it, leaving her as the sole thing in existence, at least until she woke up again and everything else advanced a suitable amount forwards in time. Whatever the case, Starry had completely lost track of time, though a lot of it could be attributed to how she had grown so large that the rotation of the Earth just didn’t affect her the way it used to; back when she was still city-sized, the vixen could at least make some sense out of the passage of time by way of the sun above her head, the way it went from east to west and was replaced by the moon, again and vice-versa in an endless cycle. Past a certain point, however, around the same time as the curvature of the planet became perfectly visible to her, Starry couldn’t exactly rely on such methods anymore, at least not without expending an inordinate amount of time with references frames and orbital mechanics calculations, neither of which she had the slightest amount of inclination to waste precious mental resources on. Why should she, when the entire planet had become her throne? When her form had grown to such a glorious state that simply by existing she had already succeeded in throwing the Moon off-course, tugged towards the planet by way of the additional gravitational pull, before she unceremoniously picked it up and threw it in a random direction; there would be no need for any satellite around her planet, no room for anything other than herself… mostly because, eventually, Earth would become a satellite to her, rather than the other way around. It was inevitable, in the sense that, while Starry was still uncertain as to why she hadn’t thoroughly outgrown everything, she was quite convinced that, at some indeterminate point in the near future, it would happen; it would happen, she would completely lose it, and the entirety of existence itself would quiver and quake as her perfect form overtook everything that was and ever could be, until the whole universe was her, Starry, a perfect vulpine, the singular entity in all of reality. Not beyond though; that slice of meta-existence was the exclusive purview of the rest of hers, the other versions of herself which had each conquered their own instances of their timeline, the ones who had nothing better to do other than rule over Creation, waiting for the next Starry to show herself so they could impart upon her the same gift that had turned the rest of them into omnipotent goddesses of all that was. In this one’s case, the collective of vixens watching over the oddly self-denying goddess-in-the-making began wondering whether or not that version of Starry was even ready for the burden of godhood at all; so many chances for them to cut loose and embrace divinity, and yet not once did they even so much as come close to it. Sure, they’d grown to the point where their ass alone was enough to overshadow the planet she was born on, to say nothing of how her breasts were immense on a scale that superseded her lower body by a few dozen orders of magnitude, but what was that compared to the vastness of the cosmos itself? This Starry might as well not even exist compared to all the others, and this was after five days of being repeatedly pushed to the edge, yet stubbornly refusing to fall down like every other copy of herself had. This raised a myriad of uncomfortable questions about her readiness to take up the position as supreme ruler of her universe… but it did open the door to a completely different approach, one that could feasibly kickstart a whole new cycle of an intensity never before seen, one that could, if the cards were played right, create the mythical “Prime” Starry! Thanks to the unfortunate nature of infinity, it was hard to pin down just which of the vixens was the “first” to awaken to their divinity, with at least a few hundred million sub-infinite sets all claiming to be the true contender to the throne; while these spats were mostly resolved by way of further growth, they did occasionally flare up just enough for the question to be raised again and again, until eventually a new perspective arose, one that sought to compromise everyone’s position by, effectively, saying that everyone was wrong: a “Prime” Starry would not be found, but rather created through the collective power of all the versions of themselves throughout the many timelines and universes… and this one just happened to be the perfect target for such a transformative process, if only everyone else could keep it in their pants for five seconds and focus on what had to be done. For clearly, this Starry had no intention of ever becoming a goddess as was her right, or at least couldn’t bring herself to forget about the order that had caused her growth spurts to begin with; though the giantess was utterly unable to recall that her visit to the endocrinologist had ever happened to begin with, something of it remained as an anchor deep within her mind, having metastasized like an unwanted conceptual tumour that made it acceptable for her to not go all-out, even if she herself had no idea why she didn’t. At times she would rationalize it as a desire to protect her little ones, though given how she used the Earth as a seat, that was hardly something she could claim to be doing; others, she’d convinced herself that it just wasn’t “time” for it, and she should instead be waiting for some sort of signal, a sign from the heavens that told her that she was ready to join with whatever pantheon existed beyond even her perception. What mattered was that, one way or another, the vixen had somehow grown to surpass her homeworld in raw size and still hadn’t triggered the exponential growth surge that was typical of her alter-selves by that point, instead relying on slow, steady expansion to make up for the difference; and while the other Starries were undoubtedly disappointed by this, they also recognized that it was a once-in-a-meta-infinity opportunity for them to intervene in the ascension process and make it… better. For once, they would proceed with caution, pulling only on the necessary strings rather than ripping the whole violin section apart with their unbridled lust; for that, they would need this Starry to be in the right mindstate, and the easiest way for that to happen was to just… be. It was the fortunate reality of being them, that their normal state of existence could be charitably described as “horny energy incarnate”, and while normally the vixen collective didn’t directly intervene in such an overt manner, knowing as they did that doing so would inevitably lead to a complete dimensional collapse of a few million more instances of reality, they as a group recognized that this version of Starry had enough self-restraint left in her that, if they focused and only blessed her with additional arousal, then that was all they’d ever need. So… they did. With the flip of a proverbial switch, their insistent attempts at prodding and needling this soon-to-be-Prime vixen switched from a multi-pronged assault into a single, focused lance, one that was sure to break through that Starry’s defences and leave her wide open for what was to come after: an infusion of energy, very lewd in nature, turning her arousal up to levels that shouldn’t technically be possible without completely collapsing her entire nervous system, even at the size that she was at. Fortunately, it just so happened that she was a goddess, or at least had something of a divine spark in her, hence what would have completely floored any lesser being only served to make her cheeks brighten up even more than they had already… and her body flare outwards in terms of size, bringing with it a brand new flood of emotions that Starry had no idea how to process. It had come from nowhere, in that it wasn’t yet the right time for her to gently slide off the planet and allow her little ones to bask in her glory, nor had she been thinking of anything particularly arousing; as far as she was aware, one moment she was fine, and the next her mind was racing with all manner of thoughts and sensations that she had no explanation for. They mixed together to create a turbulent, nigh-on nonsensical maelstrom of ideas that she couldn’t even begin to explain, feelings and raw emotions translated into a series of images and thought patterns that were there one moment and replaced in the next, the vixen unable to hold onto any one of them without them slipping through her fingers like hot sand, hotter sand, her body’s temperature rising so quickly that she had to push herself off the planet to keep it from boiling over. There she was, floating in space, unable to stop herself as her hands slowly made their way downwards between her legs, even as that core part of herself kept shouting for her to stop, for her to pull her arms back up and not pleasure herself; she shouldn’t do it, it was forbidden… though why that was, Starry couldn’t possibly tell. The sheer degree of disparity between what was verifiably in front of her, what she was feeling right there and then, and whatever it was her head was telling her, rose to such a point that something had to give; the giantess couldn’t possibly keep on living with one half of her insisting on telling her to give up and indulge for once, and the other declaring that such a move would be folly, and instead self-denial was the name of the game… but they weren’t two halves. In fact, they were nothing close to similar; it felt farcical to even suggest such a thing, but Starry had to admit that most of her just wanted to hurry up and get her fingers where they could be most useful, and it was only this distant, tiny little nugget in the back of her head that kept her from doing so, the same sort of motivation that might’ve followed her if she went to the bathroom in the middle of the night and the darkness began to press on her back. Assuming, of course, she had ever been small enough to fit inside a house, which she most certainly had not, at least as far as she could remember; not that this was too far, but… honestly, trying to come up with an adequate timeline for her divine self was far too much for Starry’s unfortunately lust-addled brain, which, as far as her alter-selves were concerned, was pretty much the best they could possibly hope for in terms of self-awareness. Better that this vixen, this budding Prime, forget about her previous life, at least until it was convenient that she recall it; better that they focus instead on the pleasure, the moment, the instant, the raw sensations that came with having a body big enough that she could, feasibly, take her entire homeworld and use it to help along with her self-ministrations. Not that she would, of course, as that would mean most likely destroying the Earth purely for the sake of achieving climax once, which was not only insulting to the many little ones down below on its surface, but just downright wasteful. Would that Starry could hold onto that thought, though, would that she had the self-restraint needed to actually force herself not to do something which she recognized was stupid even as she did it. Would that she had the capacity to tell her hands to please stop, please stop moving, please don’t bring the Earth in closer… then, perhaps, she would’ve exercised it. ‘Twasn’t a certainty, to be fair; in the state she was in, whether or not her head would even realize it could tell the body what to do was effectively a flip of a coin, with the mounting arousal she was feeling making it difficult to process any line of thought that didn’t have to do with finding the nearest best source of stimulation and using it up as quickly as possible. Maybe if she could control herself, Starry would’ve merely elected not to anyway, because at that point, why even bother? Her tits were already massively oversized compared to her homeworld, and with the way her ass was going, it too would end up quickly reaching a girth and heft that would put most of the gas giants to shame, let alone that tiny blue marble; if she wanted to experience what it was like to have one of those inside of her, to exercise her right as a goddess, then she’d have to act quickly, otherwise any attempt at bringing the Earth that close towards her would inevitably end with it being crushed into dust by the sheer force of her fattening thighs… which, on its own, was a thought so overwhelming that the temperature on Starry’s cheeks very soon rivalled that of the surface of the Sun itself, a Sun that would eventually suffer the same fate a- “Oh, screw it!” Starry finally declared, her voice perfectly audible despite her being in a literal vacuum, “What am I even waiting for? Hnnnrf, come here~!” The last two words were directed at what was soon about to become a crumpled-up ball of rock, wrecked beyond recognition and quickly becoming little more than just a formless clump, but still was, at that moment, recognizable as a planet. It held life on it, perhaps the only such cosmic object to have that honour bestowed upon it, and in a previous life, perhaps, had been the cradle for the goddess that was about to use it to pleasure herself. In Starry’s mind, this was the greatest of accolades that anything at all could aspire to: being relevant enough, and in just the right spot, that her defenses would be torn down and her arousal would demand that she take that thing and stuff it into her nethers, using it as a makeshift phallus, albeit one more spherical than usual. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a cock; it was something, and it served to quite literally fill a pressing need that couldn’t possibly be handled otherwise. In that moment, everything that Starry had been holding back crumbled, not so much turned to dust or even atomized by the tidal wave of pleasure that coursed through her, but outright removed from existence altogether; it was as if her old self had never truly been, and her current incarnation had only existed for the few precious seconds since she let go of her own leash. Perhaps this was what true ascension felt like, not unlike a spiritual rebirth that came packaged with such an astoundingly different perspective on reality that whatever came before it might as well not exist in the conventional sense; she was no longer Starry, the vixen who once walked into an endocrinologist’s office and was told that she needed to lay off any form of sexual gratification, nor was she the same woman who woke up every day to go to work in a perfectly mundane establishment. She wasn’t even the better, improved version of herself that had taken the world by storm after firmly establishing her divinity; that chunk of her life might as well been a larval stage, a mere preparation for this, most glorious of state of being, where her mind was truly free to see itself for what it was: all-powerful, and in command of a body so unrelentingly overwhelming in its mere presence that, if not for Starry wanting to make good use out of Earth, the planet would’ve aready been cracked open like a fragile egg by the gravitational pull of a body big enough to completely eclipse it. But such rules were no longer part of the vixen’s universe… or rather, they might very well be, but she no longer cared enough about them to abide by them, at least not in her immediate surroundings. What were gravity or thermodynamics compared to her pressing need to pleasure herself? What were constants and universal laws when placed next to her indomitable desire to experience pleasure on a level that most mortal minds would go insane trying to comprehend? It seemed almost farcical for her to even begin to pretend like regular rules applied to her; after all, she was still an organic being at some level, and had apparently outgrown her homeworld by several orders of magnitude on nothing more than raw arousal and pure horny energy, which was so outside the realm of the possible that the only explanation she could find for it was that she was, indeed, a literal goddess, because nothing else made the slightest amount of sense. She had to be a deity, otherwise none of this would’ve happened in the first place, and as a deity, her universe was hers to do however and whatever she liked; Starry came dangerously close to realizing that her alter-selves were watching her from just the other side of the veil, but a little push here and there were enough to set her back on the track that would lead to her transformation into the much-wanted Prime without her coming close to realizing there was a literal infinity of herself out there. For the time being, she was far too concerned with taking Earth between her legs and slowly, gently, and most assuredly loudly pushing the planet into her slit; it should’ve been impossible for her moans and screams of bliss to be heard in a vacuum, but all of her was an impossibility, so what was another one thrown into the mix? The rest of the Solar System shook and quaked as the shockwaves slammed into planets both rocky and gaseous, with the Sun outright dimming for a few seconds as a consequence of being in the presence of a true, veritable goddess. It was as if it realized that, with no more Earth to warm up, its job had been done, right before remembering that it still had Starry to contend with; or perhaps her moans were simply so powerful that they managed to strip off whole chunks of plasma, that was also a possibility, and a far likelier one than the Sun being in literal worship of her. It’d be nice, sure, but the last thing the vixen wanted was to have a glorified ball of farts nipping at her heels begging to be recognized as some kind of minor consort; she was far too powerful to date large-scale stellar objects, being more of a cosmic phenomenon kind of gal… but that was for later. In the present, she had her homeworld firmly lodged within her lower lips, two fingers digging into its surface and causing large amounts of the liquid core to spurt outwards; Starry wondered whether she should pull it out (if only to push it back in), or to just keep going, to close her legs and rub them together in such a way that what used to be her home planet, what used to be something so big that she couldn’t fathom its size, became a collection of chunks of rock floating around in a space that would, in time, became too great for the former planet to even register as being there at all… and really, it was no contest. When given the chance of immediate physical gratification, or the further affirmation of her status as a divinity, how could Starry not pick the latter? She was still horny beyond even her ability to express it, but now that her form had become so magnificently transcendent, it wouldn’t do for her to try and address this via conventional means; hell, she could take a whole galaxy and shove it down there, and it still wouldn’t even come close to holding a candle to the simple gesture of obliterating an entire planet between her legs and inside her nethers, purely because it served as evidence that she was, indeed, just as massive and powerful as she felt. In fact, by the end, Starry didn’t even realize when it happened; as soon as her hands left the planet where it was to once again stuff themselves into ungodly amounts of breastflesh, her thighs closed their gap almost as if by instinct, and somewhere, in the deepest recesses of those colossal uber-mountains of softness, her homeworld ceased to be. From globe to rock and then to dust, ground to atoms and then erased from existence in the short span of three or so seconds, after which it literally might as well have never been there at all, if not for Starry’s own memories of what she had done with it, and how useful it had been to confirm her suspicions of her own perfection. And this, this realization, was what she needed to truly outshine the star floating about next to her; it was this perfect moment where she unceremoniously crushed the planet that birthed her in perhaps the most symbolic of ways possible that brought Starry over the edge, her mind sharpening like never before as she began recalling every moment that had led her to that point: from the first phone call to the doctor’s office, to the self-denial and growth thereof, to the rapid ascension to divinity in the form of a very hungry, horny vixen who just wanted to get some relief, yet denied it from herself all the while. She knew, in that one glorious moment, everything that had happened, a perfect timeline that up until then had been kept from her by way of a wall of haze held in front of her memories; the curtain was lifted, and Starry understood the how… just not the why. Surely, not everyone who went without fucking or masturbating for a few days ascended to the ranks of the heavens, so what made her different? Why did she become that gorgeous giantess of a woman while everyone else just became incredibly cranky? Thoughts for later, for after she was done with the universe, since, after all, there was nothing else to do. Possessed of this newfound sense of superiority, the only way for Starry to go was out and outward; taking the Sun between her index and thumb felt so inconsequential as to be downright forgettable, as was the moment she pressed down on it and its light was extinguished. Similarly unnoteworthy was her decision to summon the rest of the Solar System towards her, allowing her gravitational pull to instantly collapse everything from Mercury to the furthest reaches of the Oort Cloud, sighing when she realized that, by that point, whatever measly mass they could offer her was… frankly insignificant. If she wanted to grow, if she wanted to absorb the universe and let it flow into her figure, then she had to aim higher, towards the very underlying structure of existence and whatever it was that kept it together. Exotic forms of matter, most of which weren’t even dreamed of by physicists back on that planet she used to call home, entire sections of reality that were governed by laws that were not the ones that Starry herself knew from her mortal days, countless billions of galaxies stretching outwards in a universe that, if not infinite, was certainly big enough that the vixen couldn’t possibly imagine herself consuming even a portion of it, let alone the totality of the place. That is, until she did; it was sudden, in the way that one woke up from a dream and found that they were still sleeping on their bed and not off in some grand adventure with their favourite fictional hero, with the sudden jolt that came from consuming the very last thing in existence being enough to shock Starry back to a consciousness she wasn’t even aware she had lost in the first place. It felt like just moments prior she was floating next to where the Sun used to be, and yet now there was… nothing. No stars, no clusters, no nebulae or galaxies, no clusters of the latter either, not even the background radiation left over from when the whole cosmos exploded into being, just… nothing. In a snap, in an instant (one that probably lasted for aeons, but still), it was all gone, absorbed into her radiant, absurdly curvaceous form, leaving Starry feeling at once thoroughly satisfied and yet utterly directionless. If there was nothing else, what was she supposed to do? Float there, in the vast, empty, black nothingness, until the last photons stopped bouncing around and she stopped being able to see herself? Surely, as a goddess, she should be capable of some measure of creative power, even if it was only wielded for the sake of creating yet more food for her endless existential feast… but if so, how? So much time spent destroying had left her bereft of ideas for how to do the opposite, which was perfectly fine as far as her alter-selves were concerned, as it made it a lot simpler for them to “suggest” a few things that this future Prime would interpret as her own subconscious helping her piece things together. They could suggest a series of steps, outlining everything she had to do to achieve even greater heights, since, ultimately, the whole point of going crazy with the universal consumption was to bask in the unending pleasure of being so utterly superior to everything else that she could literally eat it without giving it a second thought, becoming ever greater in the process. They could suggest what she should do to herself, what she should do with her memory, and how much of her past life she should be able to remember; and in the end, they could implant a deeper suggestion, one that Starry wouldn’t even be aware of, yet would guide and motivate her towards repeating this entire process, again and again, ever mounting on itself with increasingly absurd exponentials. It was, in fact, quite easy for the infinite ocean of Starries in the multiverse to place their ideas in the back of their future Prime’s mind and let them fester until they fermented properly; for creatures who had dominated their reality and joined the collective of their selves that ruled over all of Creation, there was no real difference between a year and a millennium, an age or an epoch. Just as long as things careened towards the right endpoint, they were happy to wait, since at the very least it gave them an excuse to play with one another in ways that defied logic and explanation, all while their soon-to-be Prime was incubated in a brand new universe, one of her own creation, with rules explicitly laid out to make sure she made the absolute best of it. *** Starry opened her eyes, spotting the same cracks on the ceiling that she did every morning. Her back hurt tremendously from yet another night of sleeping in the incorrect position after huddling up on the couch watching terrible movies until an irresponsible hour, but at least she felt rested enough to take on the new day without much grumbling, much being the key-word. As usual, most of her morning routine came in the form of safety preparations, with the vixen having to take extra care to triple-check her list of bullet points just to make sure she didn’t forget anything; it was difficult work, being the only normal person in a world where the smallest of people were about three times as big as she was, at the very least, to say nothing of some of the bigger ones walking around creating quakes wherever they went. At times, Starry felt a certain pang of jealousy whenever she looked at someone’s tits and noticed how they covered most of their front down to the knee, while her own bug bites looked like puberty had completely missed them; the same could be said for all the plump, pillowy butts she saw on a regular basis, some of which nearly sat on her whenever she wasn’t paying attention to the array of mirrors she had on her, which nearly always prompted her to pat her own ass and despair at how tiny it felt when cupped in her hands. Yet, she never quite let it get to her, at least not too much; there was something in the back of her head that had led her to believe that, ultimately, everything would be fine, even if she didn’t know how. It was a conviction, a belief, that someday, she would wake up and be just as big as everyone else was; after all, she was the only person on that planet that was even remotely regular-sized, compared to everyone else who had apparently decided that catching the hyper bug was their number one concern. Surely, at some point, she too would roll over from bed and notice her nipples were grazing the ceiling, or her ass had completely wrecked the bedframe underneath her; it was only fair, after so many years spent being the butt of jokes on the part of her coworkers, who had all apparently decided that she would’ve looked amazing as a hyper, and then proceeded to relentlessly tease her about it. Thus, the belief: everything was going to turn out just fine in the end. Plus, the vixen had to admit, there was something inherently enjoyable about being so much tinier than everyone else around her, though she could never quite put her finger on it. Nor why it left her blushing so furiously each time.

Perfection and enlightenment were the words of the day, as they had been for every day prior to that one, as they would be for every day beside it, as they would and were for all eternity, recursively towards and beyond infinity. Thus decreed Starry, aloft on the throne of her own body, watching over a resplendent metropolis of her own making, where the faithful may congregate and give graces to the goddess which had birthed a golden age from her sheer, radiant splendour. Thus was her perfection that to be within eyesight of her was to become better, as one’s body was moulded and reshaped in accordance with the unfathomable will of the titanic vixen, that it may better serve one’s own desires; long gone were the days where there still existed anyone who believed in such silly nonsense as not wanting to have one’s body in constant flux, where their forms were static, solid, unable to change depending on whatever random whim happened to fly past their conscious awareness… however little of it there may yet be. It was easy to forget that such a concept was even extant anymore, given that most people’s lives under Starry had effectively turned into one long, continuous, unbroken climax, one shared by millions upon millions of souls across thousands of miles in every direction from the centerpiece of the kingdom built by the vixen goddess: herself, and her throne of herself. There yet remained nations that weren’t brought into the fold, populated almost entirely by poor, unfortunate souls who hadn’t yet been given the opportunity to bask in the glory that was Starry, to shed their concerns like an old snake skin and ascend to become something greater, something that didn’t have concerns to bother themselves with. It was a glorious enough achievement that there was no end to supplicants come to join in the merriment, come to bask in the glory of Starry’s presence, enough that the only reason her kingdom was not littered with the wreckage of all the vehicles used was… honestly, no one quite knew what happened to them, but then again, they didn’t exactly care enough to find out. The moment they were within range, the exact second that their eyes feasted upon the giantess’ divine form, they would find themselves locked in an endless cycle of mind-shattering pleasure, one that, rather than instinctively wanting to break, they instead fought to maintain for as long as possible; cars, planes, ships, trains or whatever else happened to be used to get them near to the vixen were easily disposed of, really just a case of Starry herself snapping her fingers and willing such things into non-existence. That is, when she remembered to do it; there were plenty of occasions where she simply forgot that the rest of the world even existed at all, trapped as she was in her own little endless cycle. It was easy to assume that a perfect goddess such as herself would be above such things, but truth be told, there still remained a small sliver of the old Starry, of the vixen that had once been small enough to fit inside houses, the same one who was decidedly non-divine and wouldn’t automatically warp the very fabric of reality just because she slightly shifted atop the colossal ass she now sported. It was an insignificant part of her, practically non-existent in the grand scheme of things, and yet it insisted on making itself known, digging its heels in and forcing the rest of the goddess’ mind to lay siege to the last remaining stronghold of sanity that yet reigned for several thousand miles around. Granted, this was mostly an internal battle that very rarely spilled into the outside world in any meaningful fashion, but it was enough to keep Starry from just getting up and walking over to the parts of the planet that weren’t yet smitten with her, and ultimately, this was a big deal; instead, she was content with sitting where she was, believing with all of her being that she’d always been the way she was then: a torso and head that, combined, managed to scrape just over a hundred feet in height, and still somehow only accounted for a fraction of a percentage point of the rest of her. She was mostly tits and ass, with a bit of thighs and hips thrown in for good measure, so much so that if anyone could bother to muster up the willpower to speak, they would most likely describe her as being “buried” underneath her own assets; this was, in essence, exactly how Starry herself envisioned her dream body, and as such, reality itself bent the knee and gave it to her, much like it did to all of her faithful supplicants. It just so happened that the tiny ones around her had far more exotic tastes than just being big overall, but that was fine; Starry herself saw her role as less of a cumulative, sum total of all kinks and far more of a facilitator, an enabler really of the innermost impulses that most people spent their lives pretending weren’t there. Her job, in fact, was to let everyone else enjoy themselves as much as possible, and in the process, she herself would find joy in doing so, providing a win-win scenario for everyone involved; sure, it may have resulted in the complete destruction of her home city, but then again, what home city? She had always been the only thing big enough to cover the local geography, hadn’t she? There had never been any large settlement there, just her ass, her legs, her tits, big enough to be seen from middle orbit, resplendent under the light of the sun, surrounded on all sides by countless smaller ones who had flocked from all around the world to see her, to be with her; despite the best efforts of the last remaining entrenched remnants of her old personality, the only thing still tethering Starry to anything remotely resembling reality as it used to be was a vague sense of duty, the thinnest wisp of smoke telling her that she shouldn’t just go all out… yet, at any rate. There would come a time, she reminded herself, when she would rise from her sitting position and travel the world, collecting those who were left behind in the process, but that time was not at the moment; the present was far better spent trying to find new and more inventive ways of pleasuring herself, especially considering that, unlike some of the tiny ones surrounding her, Starry herself was still fundamentally the same person she always had been, at least structurally: two arms, two legs, a torso and a head, no more and no less, with the only variance being in her size and fat distribution. She had no taurso, no extra pairs of arms, not even extremely stretchy ones that let her hug her full bust despite the obvious logistical impossibility of doing so, but she did have an endless supply of horny energy and the will to use it, so that had to count for something; typically this manifested in the form of a halo of light that always seemed to be set against the back of her head regardless of where an observer looked at her from, one whose radiance was such that to look up and bask in it directly caused growth spurts so terrifyingly potent that it had become a pastime for the more strong-willed of Starry’s worshippers. They who could hold onto their sense of self when presented with a divine gift, they who had strong enough personalities that they wouldn’t simply be subsumed into the will of the goddess herself, they were the ones who regularly opened their eyes and allowed their bodies to be filled with her light, to be glorified further and to become even more perfect; and as a merciful goddess, Starry made sure that this group encompassed an increasingly large number of souls, with the ultimate goal being that every sentient creature in existence would be able to look at her, to absorb her very essence, and not have to worry about losing track of who they were and when they happened to be. It was an honourable goal to set for herself, and indeed it would be a gift for all of furkind, which made it all the more surprising when Starry sensed that there were at least three people who disagreed. This realization was faint at first, little more than a mosquito bite in the very back of her head, but as it kept needling her, letting her know that there remained three minds who were yet sullied by the stain of regular, mundane life while within her kingdom, the vixen had to do something about it, not the least of which being to identify where this dreadful sensation was coming from. Swivelling her head from side to side, she identified the most likely cause: a lone skyscraper, a couple of miles off the side of her right breast, which had for some reason either been constructed away from literally any kind of urban sprawl, or was perhaps the remnant of something that used to be there and had somehow survived the continuous onslaught of Starry’s growth spurts. Whatever the case, it was clear that there were three people on there that were still in possession of their unnecessary mental faculties, a trio of foolish little things who probably thought themselves the only sane ones left on the planet; what was worse, despite her trying to best to scry what they might be doing, the vixen came up short, almost as if there were a thin curtain of fog in between herself and her target. She could tell that there was someone there, three someones in fact, and that they were doing something, but the details somehow eluded her, a state of affairs that left her equally curious and distressed; surely, these littles ones couldn’t be thinking of doing something stupid that could harm both her and her supplicants, surely they weren’t equipped to end her benevolent reign at the behest of some foreign despot. Surely they were just wayward souls, shielded from her glory by way of some incantation they dug up from an ancient tome or somesuch, and all they needed was a firm hand to guide them back into the flock… or, as luck would have it, two colossal tits being flopped on top of them, courtesy of a very horned-up vixen who wanted nothing more than a challenge to take her mind off the monotony. The world itself shook and rattled as she struggled to get up on her feet, the seismic tremors felt across the entire breadth of the planet, setting off seismographs wherever they still existed; the moment she took her first step, however, the moment her body heaved forward and the full weight of her presence was brought to bear on the poor Earth underneath her, the only thing saving the globe from turning into two half-spheres was her own power, channelled downwards into the rock to keep it from collapsing and cracking underneath her enormity. As if that weren’t enough, the sonic shockwaves from the sloshing of milk within her bust were powerful enough that she could see them travel, in a concentric barrier around her, compressing the very air that her little ones breathed to such a point that some of them were left quite literally breathless for the second or so they were within the vacuum front. Curiously, this also allowed Starry to realize that this lone, solitary skyscraper was indeed protected from her power, as the sonic boom smashed into… something. For a moment, she saw what appeared to be a cylinder of light, emanating from the ground around the building and tapering off a few feet above the roof, one that faded into non-existence just as quickly as it had flashed into it; another step, another set of shockwaves to be had, and confirmation was provided: there was some sort of force-field protecting those three individuals she had set out to convert, one that most likely shielded them from the effects of being so close to a goddess. One could only imagine what sort of fools would resort to such drastic measures just to get near her, but Starry wasn’t about to gamble on unknowns; those three had to be brought into the fold, for if they weren’t, there was a non-zero chance they might end up hurting her beloved little ones. This was further confirmed when the vixen outstretched her hand and tried to touch the barrier itself, ending up revealing that it was surprisingly solid, and seemed unwilling to let her through to the other side… a side in which three people dressed in full body-covering hazmat suits labored next to a large machine of some sorts, assembling a second contraption that Starry couldn’t identify. It didn’t look like any bomb she’d seen, but neither did it bear any resemblance to any sort of device she had knowledge of, industrial or otherwise; the presence of a protective barrier would seem to imply that those three on the roof of the skyscraper were there to either put an end to her or at least try to contain the spread of what they certainly believed was an “infection”, and for that alone they deserved to be stopped, but without any idea of what they were doing, Starry was left with very few options. Thankfully, they all required the exact same thing: using her body to overload the protective aspect of the force-field and get the trio on the other side to drop whatever it was they were doing and join the fun with the rest of those around them; it felt like a decent enough idea, even if it stood a reasonable chance of failing, and besides, it’d been a hot minute since the vixen got to deliberately show herself off in any meaningful manner. The only question was the how, the specific manner in which she would do such a thing, because her body was such that it was ripe for a myriad of different strategies, from the utterly mundane to the delightfully fantastical, each one lewder than the last. The goddess considered a simple titjob for a few seconds, the thought of wrapping her titanic mammaries around a large pillar and then doing what nature commanded her to, but quickly discarded this notion after realizing the building was far too small for her to do such a thing without utterly demolishing it; much as she didn’t appreciate any attacks on her person, the last thing she wanted was for those three unblessed ones to actually come to harm! No, a softer, more delicate touch was needed, and for that, the very element of touch itself had to be removed from the equation; as much as she was a generous goddess, she was still so powerful that actually, physically interacting with her followers was… perhaps too overwhelming for them. Luckily, her mere presence was often more than enough to handle all the needs of the little ones around her, and thus it should be sufficient to handle whoever these people were. Starry didn’t really care too much about the force field, nor why there was a single skyscraper amidst a sea of cum and milk that couldn’t really be explained conventionally. There was surely a part of her that remembered the world as it used to be, tucked neatly in the back of her mind where it could never be accessed, but this aspect of her old psyche was one that would never really see the light of day anymore. It fought in the darkness, holding her back from truly ascending to her rightful station, but it had long-since retreated from any hope of victory, leaving the vixen just blissfully ignorant enough that she didn’t think to wonder about the obvious impossibility of that building being there, or the reason why anyone would ever think to work against her. In fact, the latter didn’t even strike her as a possibility anymore, at least not after she gave it a moment’s thought; surely there was no way that these three people were actually trying to stop or slow her down, that was ridiculous! No one in their right minds would halt her inevitable overtaking of the whole planet, not even the most crazed of tyrants, so obviously the trio had to be some sort of observation team sent to take readings just to make sure things were painless, or whatever it was the tattered remnants of the world’s scientific community still cared about. It was endearing, in a paternalistic sort of way, to see how much the tiny ones struggled to comprehend a gift that was so easy to just accept without needing to think about it, how hard they worked to deny something that was freely given, how much effort was put into rationalizing a fundamentally emotional experience. For Starry, while it may occasionally have stricken her as slightly frustrating, it was ultimately perfectly understandable; not everyone was as divine as she was, and despite her best intentions, she couldn’t expect the world to just roll over and accept their new fate, even if it was an objectively better state for things to be in when compared to what came before: there would be no more strife, no more pain, no more misery or hatred, no more hunger or thirst or anything other than pure, endless bliss, experienced by all to the best of their abilities, a world where everyone could live out their fantasies for all of eternity, feeding off the godlike radiance of the titanic vixen at the center of it all. This was the dream she provided, the goal she strived for, and Starry would be damned before she stopped doing her best to accomplish it, even if it meant employing certain… unorthodox tactics. Being as big as she was, the need for alternative methods whenever she had to get up close and personal to her worshippers strained her lateral thinking, one of the few skillsets the giantess didn’t exactly develop as well as she could have; most of the time, just being was enough, simple proximity being entirely sufficient to upturn the very laws of reality until there was nothing left but self-indulgent debauchery. Thus, to have this method denied by way of some sort of force field left her in an awkward position, where the only thing that came to mind was trying to be there, but in some esoterically “more” manner; maybe leaning forward, perhaps, or maybe… well, there was always that, even if it left Starry herself blushing furiously at the thought, but if that was her reaction, then surely it should work as intended, no? It was something she hadn’t tried up until then, but seeing as how it was new, then it was likely that this small team of hazmat suited interlopers wouldn’t have any way to defend against it. Granted, it was easier said than done, as the amount of room that Starry had to work with was incredibly restrictive; she was more than certain that, were she to actually sit on the building, it would be reduced to a flat pancake of compressed metal with three very unfortunate organic disks somewhere in the middle of it, forcing her to be extra-careful when positioning herself in the way she wanted to. Her ass being big enough to cover multiple cities all by itself certainly made for one hell of a view, however, doubly so once it blocked out the sun and completely obscured every inch of the sky above the three people who had yet to fall prey to her allure. Starry couldn’t see it, but this simple gesture had been enough to divert their eyes upwards, even if for only a second… followed by a frantic burst of activity as the technicians worked with whatever machines they had brought to do whatever it was they were told to do. Within their suits, they had begun sweating intensely, and not just because they looked up and saw an ass so big that it had replaced the blue sky with a vast immenseness of brown fur; just being under that thing had increased the ambient temperature by such a high factor that it suddenly became a lot harder to work while inside those stuffy, restrictive suits of theirs, enough so that all three of them began wondering if it wouldn’t be better to bite the bullet and just take them off, sacrificing themselves for the good of the rest of the world. Sadly, they had strict orders never to expose themselves to the vixen, and seeing as anyone caught within range of her had a tendency of immediately falling under her control, the techies couldn’t guarantee that they’d be able to complete their assignment. So, they kept working, kept toiling away at a contraption that had been designed to zap the vixen back to a state in which she could be managed (and conveniently imprisoned), not noticing as the colossal butt above their heads began to shift; they were unaware of the giantess’ true intention, that she didn’t just want to show them her enormous cheeks, but that such a gesture was merely the first step in her “plan”: that being to place her nethers directly above the skyscraper itself. Mercifully for everyone involved, Starry was not yet so completely lost that she would do something as ridiculous as try to bring the building into her by smashing her slit against it and using the structure as an improvised phallus; not only would that be incredibly dangerous for the three people she was still convinced could be brought into the fold, but frankly, the building was far too small to really be able to please her. No, the next step was far more straightforward: Starry was just going to hold herself directly above the skyscraper, and let nature run its course. Eventually, at least one of the techies would look up, and realize that instead of one massive cheek, they were staring at a very need set of lower lips, practically drooling with the vixen’s juices as they hungered for something, anything to fill them, perhaps a god-consort of the same size as the titaness. And if they didn’t receive what they deserved, then things would just take care of themselves, because Starry was quite literally dripping with need, and those droplets scaled up with her just as much as everything else that had to do with her did; rather than tiny little spots on a carpet or mattress, they were colossal, pool-filling masses of liquid falling onto the ground below at frankly dangerous speeds, carrying enough force that the force field keeping the trio safe from outside world rang as loudly as a clear glass bell being struck by a steel hammer, all-but forcing the folks inside of it to flinch and then reflexively look at what caused the noise… just in time for the next drop to come crashing down on them, revealing to the team what it was that they were staring up at. From there, their options were limited; Starry’s attraction was much like that of a black hole, that being that, as soon as one got close enough, any action that one could take would inevitably lead them closer to her, regardless of how much they struggled. In fact, trying to struggle would only make things progress even faster, and the only way to extend the grace period before falling under Starry’s sway was to, paradoxically, stay put and do nothing; this wasn’t something that any of the three technicians could do of course, with the sudden battering of the force field having them scramble to try and get something done to protect them, all while the heat radiating from Starry’s nethers made it progressively harder to operate with their suits on… until the suits themselves stopped doing anything to protect them to begin with. It was a sad state of affairs, the one they were stuck in, that even the best coverage money could buy was woefully insufficient to deal with what was, in essence, the vixen’s haphazardly-constructed Plan A; a testament to her power, to be sure, and a damning piece of evidence that any attempts at resisting her power were nothing but folly of the highest caliber. She didn’t even need to do anything but stand there, holding her slit directly above their heads, and this was already more than enough to utterly overwhelm their defensive systems, triggering the first round of changes to their forms. Them not noticing it at first was doubly curious, as the transformation wasn’t exactly subtle, nor had it ever been. Just like it did with everyone else, the power oozing from Starry hooked itself onto the deepest, darkest desires of the ones it reached, finding that which they considered to be their perfect form and festering around it, infesting the rest of their brains until they could think of nothing else; while normally this would only take a handful of seconds to take place, the force field offered enough protection that the technicians managed to last for a couple of minutes while still working, despite the fact that their bodies were already straining their suits’ ability to contain them. Even if they consciously knew that they shouldn’t listen to the voices or fall prey to the allure of eternal pleasure, the decision had been taken out of their hands, with their biologies instead listening to the immense forces roiling through them, drawing more and more energy from Starry herself in their quest to further perfect themselves. Soon enough, the protective suits would be too small to handle the full load of what was being produced, both in terms of mass being held back and raw output; all three of the techies happened to be males, all three happened to believe that their perfect forms would include some rather copious amounts of cum production, and thus all three were put to work making sure they completely and thoroughly beat any records previously established by any of Starry’s supplicants. The inside of their suits began to fill within seconds of their cocks having completely filled one of their pant legs, and a few moments later they were walking inside what were effectively large fishbowls filled with their own spunk, the soft outer lining of their protective gear bulging outwards as it struggled to handle the sheer weight of it all. They would drown, they knew that much, but still they insisted on keeping the suits on, believing that if only they could finish their work, then at least the rest of the world would be safe; they believed this even as they continued to reshape themselves, even as their subconscious took this “perfect” form and kept adding more bits onto it, just like everyone else had. After all, if they had achieved their dream body, what was stopping them from setting another, more excessive goal for themselves? What was stopping them from wanting a pair of milk-filled tits of their own, or three, or five? What was holding them back from wanting to throw in some udders on top of that, to handle all the milky run-off? Who was telling them they couldn’t have as many dicks and pairs of nuts as they did racks, until the inside of their suits were so cramped that they couldn’t even move? And, above all, who said they had to remain standing? Seconds were all it took for all three of them to fall down onto the ground, their faces stamped with wide, beaming smiles just before being thoroughly drowned out by the sloshing mixture of lactic cream and virile seed their protective equipment was filled with; their silhouettes as well, the many assets that were perfectly visible as they strained against the hazmat gear, were suitably engorged until it was really nothing short of a miracle that the fabric and plastic hadn’t just ripped to pieces completely… at least until it finally reached a breaking point, the cum blimps bursting open to reveal the bodies hidden inside, coated in their own juices and possessed of a brand new appreciation for the wonders that Starry could provide for them. Perhaps it was precisely because they had fought so hard against the changes that they turned out to be so extreme, as a sort of “lesson” to be learned on the giantess’ part, even if the vixen herself didn’t think on those terms… or maybe they simply wanted to be like that, and it was the strength of their denial that unleashed their full forms in such a beautiful manner. Whatever the case may be, all three of the techies had adopted a tauric form, their bodies elongating just enough so that they could fit a couple dozen rows of tits underneath them, rising up to a handful more on their regular torso, and providing the perfect angle for the bouquet of rods to push from their haunches all the way through their many cleavages before emerging from the front to thoroughly paint the roof white. They grew, as well, and in such a fast pace that Starry had to quickly move them away from a building that was soon to crumble, seeing as the techies’ explosive growth spurt had thoroughly wrecked the machines designed to keep them “safe” from the goddess they had foolishly tried to resist. Soon enough, they would be naught but more faces in the crowd, three more souls come to join the chorus whose sole task was to glorify themselves, and then… then they would learn. Then they would know that those worshippers weren’t there to make Starry feel better about themselves, that they weren’t brainwashed into following the vixen; rather, that they had freely and openly thrown themselves into the realms of self-indulgent debauchery, and that it had been their choice to dedicate their lives fully to the pursuit of pleasure. And now… so could they.

The stadium lights blared in her face, reflecting off of her hood to create a spectacular light show that only added to the magnificence of her sheer presence. The best part is that it hadn’t been done on purpose; Cadenza just slithered onto the stage, the lights were turned on, and the whole thing fell into place, leaving her quietly impressed at the serendipity of it all, and quite a bit excited at the prospect of turning the whole venue into a large-scale nightclub of her very own… especially since she didn’t really fit into proper nightclubs anymore. Cad would be lying if she said that she didn’t miss the experience. The (comparatively) tight space made for a compressed, heavily-fueled atmosphere that almost served to keep her going purely off the contact high, with the bass beats reverberating off the walls for some truly stellar and stunning acoustics that just weren’t possible in the great outdoors. Still, improvement and progress came at a cost, and hers was… well, it was hard to call her current size a “cost”, in all fairness, but it did sometimes make her wish she wasn’t so utterly gigantic as to need half of a stadium just to get the party started. On the other hand, needing half a stadium just for herself and her equipment was such a divine and transcendental experience that it was hard to truly put it to words, especially when the giant boa looked down at the immense crowd before her and couldn’t even make out any one individual person. They were a blob of excited shouting and frantic motion, most of which was so fluid that it became legitimately entrancing, leaving the giantess feeling like she should’ve already begun the show yesterday. It was a bother setting everything up as well; she’d been waiting inside the stadium for the past two days just to give the construction teams enough time to set everything up, tended to by a large group of roadies whose sole task was to make sure that every whim of hers was taken care of to the best of their ability. Cadenza made sure to keep her demands light though; she might be an almost-literal goddess in mortal trappings, but she was a merciful one, so there was no need to go overboard with anything… aside from her mixing table and sound system, those were absolutely worth going over the top with, and not just because of her predilection for volume; seeing as she was going to connect the whole system to her hood in order to both amplify and modulate it at will, it was important that everything be set up just right to prevent any incidents, lest the venue’s crowd be left deafened or bleeding from the ears. Sometimes both, though no one really saw fit to complain about it for some reason. Seeing as it was impossible to truly hide whatever she was doing from her adoring fans, Cadenza spent the last couple of hours before the show was scheduled to start calibrating everything to make sure it was up to specification, double- and triple-checking the wires, the electronics, even the metal plating just to be certain that nothing would surprise her for the full duration. Six whole hours of her giving thousands of lucky people the show of a lifetime, completely obliterating anyone’s ability to sleep in at least a five mile radius; it took thousands of permits and goodness knows how much money in outright bribery, but it was going to happen. She, and she alone, would become the epicenter for an explosion of musical madness that would take the world by storm, because she didn’t intend to just stop there. First that stadium, then another one wherever they wanted to take her, and then the rest of the world; this insanity she was participating in at that exact moment was nothing but a test run for something even greater down the line. Two hours she spent bobbing her head up and down almost subconsciously as she went through the motions, the crowd growing thicker and more numerous as all those lucky enough to get a ticket were ushered in and told, to no real avail, to find their spot in the marked sections and stay there. It was impossible to control anyone, especially considering the type of people that had come to attend; they just wanted music, wanted to close their eyes and let their bodies move on their own without having to worry about whether they were going to bump into anyone, that sort of thing. To ask for them to hold still and keep to artificially imposed barriers was tantamount to heresy, both for the ticket-holders and for Cadenza herself; hell, the only reason she hadn’t already begun working her magic was only because she wanted to make sure everyone was in place before she did so, that no one would miss out on it. Once everyone was in place, however, there was no real stopping her, not when one of the organizers gave her the thumbs up and the titanoboa began to stretch her fingers. Just like in every show, the world around her seemed to slow down and filter out; with her eyes closed, even the raucous crowd faded into the background of her mind, muffled by a curtain of her own consciousness, her body being the only thing she could feel. Her fingers met the surface of the mixing table, traversing every switch, every knob, every button, feeling it as if it were her own body; to a great extent, given that she had plugged herself in, it truly was, with her expanded mind being capable of tapping into the electronic components of the enormous array to adjust it on the fly. Even with her eyes shut she could “see”, the faintest hint of neon lights flashing in and out of existence as the electrical currents made themselves known… and when the display on her head went completely dark, the rest of the stadium’s lights dimming simultaneously, the whole world came into focus again. There was silence, as the crowd gathered there realized what was about to happen. With the sun long set and the stage lights being slowly turned off one by one, the massive, hulking silhouette of Cadenza stood there, immobile, her head bowed forward towards the mixing table she was ready at. Her hands moved so slowly as to be imperceptible, tension rose, and every eye was on her; within moments, though never in any predictable way, the stadium would erupt in a shockwave of sound and colour, and the crowd’s collective mind would be awash by the kind of impossibly enrapturing music that only that colossal snake could provide. Within moments, their lives would halt for six full hours, that they could simply live in the moment and forget everything else. And Cadenza would provide. With a grin forming on the edge of her lips, the faintest hint of a bright fang glinting in the moonlight, the titanic giantess unleashed an electrical pulse that coursed through every piece of equipment she was linked to, and in one fell swoop, in one glorious moment, every light in the stadium was turned on at maximum luminosity, the sound system blasted with a single, resonating bass beat, and every single person in attendance was practically forced onto their ass from the sheer strength of the shockwave. Then, just to complete the picture, Cadenza opened her hood wide, the speakers installed on it visually throbbing as another beat coursed through them and straight into the air, causing the crowd to erupt in loud, frantic cheers! From there on, it was hard to tell just who exactly was in charge, her muscle memory and instinct, or her conscious mind. With herself being plugged into so much machinery, capable of feeling the very currents that were turned into vibrations in the house-sized speakers mounted on either side of her just moments before they became actual soundwaves, the whole thing became as much instinctual as it did directed, leaving her in an odd sort of half-trance where everything she did seemed to come to her a half-second before she decided to do it. The lights blaring, the beats thrumming, the crowd’s cacophony adding to the confusion, it was enough to overload even her well-honed and practiced senses; one could only imagine how overwhelmed those tiny ones were feeling down there, having to deal with everything that Cadenza herself did without the privilege of being a stadium-filling titanoboa with years of experience. Then again, that was the whole point of it; people didn’t come to her gigs for a reasonably fun time, they went there to get completely lost in the music. As usual, Cadenza herself was having a hard time remaining truly cognizant of what was happening around her. With the stimulation being amplified by her own techno-organic components, the extra links to her mixing table and what were actually some pretty decent acoustics for a wide-open space, it was hard not to allow herself to melt into the background, so to speak, to give her mind permission to diffuse itself into every beat, every boosted bass, every moment of perfection where she felt her entire body vibrating underneath the unrelenting assault of her very music. She wasn’t even fully aware of what it sounded like; with so many years of practice under her belt, it was easy enough to go through the motions and just open her mind to the whole thing, which had the curious effect of the music not truly being processed like it was meant to. In a way, it was a sort of induced synesthesia, even if only a temporary one, designed to take one’s senses and smash them into bits before rearranging them in increasingly exotic forms, providing a unique and impossible-to-replicate six hours for the lucky souls that managed to buy a ticket. They would speak of this for years to come. However, something else was infiltrating Cadenza’s mind, worming its way through the thick curtain she’d laid over her own perception. It was something new, powerful enough that even the giantess, in her semi-fugue state, was all-but forced to pay attention to it as it intruded upon her vibe; it wasn’t necessarily bad, just new and unexpected, like her mind had birthed a brand new sensation that she’d never had the opportunity to truly analyze, leaving her more curious than concerned. So… she tapped into it, her head still bobbing to the rhythm of the beat, her coils having to work overtime to keep themselves in check, her hands still doing what they should be; it was as if Cadenza could compartmentalize everything but that one, unidentified thing, leaving her body in its own hands as her focus turned inwards towards that small, and yet unbelievably bright flame burning inside of her. It beckoned her, called her, extended its fiery touch closer and closer still until she could practically feel it, filling her very body and soul with what felt like an endless wellspring of energy… and yet, rather than feeling alien, it was oddly familiar, like it belonged to her in some way. Rather than a new thing, it had always been there, just not always active, simply waiting for an opportunity to make itself known, to show to the giantess that, rather than having just popped into existence, it truly had already been an integral part of herself that she had simply failed to recognize was there at all, growing stronger by the day, more intense with each foot of herself that was added onto her body. As she grew, so too did this fundamental part of her very self become more prominent, yet always remaining in the very back of her head, waiting for the opportunity to strike when the iron was hot… and now, when the stadium was packed with both her body and those of her most adoring fans, when she had progressed to the point where she could conduct an entire show without even thinking about it, when the very show itself was designed from the ground up to provide a transcendental experience for everyone there to feel it, that’s when this burning flame decided to make itself known. Cad felt it before she saw, heard or tasted it, that last one striking her as incredibly out of place once her tongue felt like it had been dipped in some kind of magnetized metal, sending shivers down her spine just as her whole body seemed to freeze up, though still leaving the music to keep going somehow. But it wasn’t being produced by the mixing table, and it certainly wasn’t being blasted through the speakers installed next to it; rather, it was coming from inside of her, from that tiny flame that grew bigger and more all-consuming each time it throbbed and thrummed to the beat, the sounds becoming louder and louder as Cadenza herself came to realize that the true song, the true essence of it, was coming from inside that… whatever it was. Her creativity? Her true soul? The very core of her ability to create music? Whatever it was, she reached out for it, holding it tightly against herself, her electronic display frazzled and seemingly corrupted as it flashed through several distorted iterations of her “eyes”, all while her hood carried on producing the same beats as before, only distinctly more powerful this time around. Just as she held that burning flame within her mind, so too did its vibrations begin to course through her, leaving her body feeling like gelatin as it was thoroughly worked over by sonic shockwaves that started at the top of her head and made their way through her whole length, leaving her tail feeling like it had been turned into a lightning rod, one that felt heavier and more unwieldy for some reason. It took a few moments and several of these waves before Cadenza realized what was happening: each time a cycle was over and a beat left her body, it also pushed the tip of her tail a few feet further away from her. She was growing. The realization should’ve hit her a bit harder than it did, but at the same time, it almost felt like the logical endpoint for everything she’d done so far. After all, as far as Cadenza cared, she’d already been growing for years at that point; there was a very good reason her career started with her being able to fit into actual buildings and now she needed whole stadiums just to be able to house her, so a few extra feet really weren’t all that impressive in the grand scheme of things. Hell, if it went on for long enough, the snake figured that she could occupy the entire arena and have her fans jump onto her for the duration of the show, making for a truly spectacular, one-of-a-kind experience, real bang for their buck. But, as the beats continued to come, as the growth continued to mount, Cadenza was forced to admit: this time was different. Very different. Then again, different didn’t necessarily mean worse, as she was quick to find out. In fact, it felt remarkably better than all the other times her growth took place when she was aware of it; more often than not, her ascent towards the heavens happened slowly enough that she couldn’t really focus on it, nor really experience it in any meaningful way. Only very rarely did she undergo a growth spurt significant enough for it to be seen and felt, and even then those few occasions were nothing compared to what she was going through at that exact moment. It felt like everything she’d gone through before, but magnified a thousandfold and fed directly into her sensory nerves, those poor things fraying at the edges in their frantic attempts at making sense of everything they were picking up. It was overwhelming, yet simultaneously… fulfilling, like it was meant to happen and she was just going through something that had always been planned for her. Rather than it being a gradual transformation, however, the process taking her over began to speed up over time, even if the crowd being encroached upon by the titanic coils was blissfully unaware of the danger they were in. The beat gradually grew stronger, faster, deeper and more reverberating, until it wasn’t just a single shockwave going through Cadenza’s tail, but several crashing into one another across her entire body; predictably, this not only meant that she began to expand in every direction rather than just having feet added to her length, but it also ensured that this growthsplosion picked up the pace too quickly for the giantess to really slow it down or do anything about it… assuming, of course, she even wanted to do either of those things (she didn’t) as opposed to having her head move along to the beat as she enjoyed every single inch of herself that materialized from nowhere. It took a long time before the first people became aware of how Cadenza, rather than staying on her side of the stadium as planned, had begun to invade the dance pit; but rather than scream in panic and run away, they instead turned to face her and threw themselves onto her body, glueing their own to her scales before attempting to climb upwards. After all, if Cadenza was growing larger, where better to celebrate this than on the extra room she was creating on top of herself? Cadenza… well, she didn’t exactly think the same, mostly because she wasn’t really thinking at all apart from how much she could intensify the beat before it went completely out of control, or if she should take it so far that it did slip away from her grasp. The sound system wasn’t even plugged in anymore, with the synaesthetic sound being blasted exclusively from her opened hood, the air vibrating with such strength that the distortions were actually visible if one paid close attention; and with each thrum of her speakers, with each sonic wave that nearly deafened those that it slammed into, she grew just a little bit larger, a little bit stronger, until the whole stadium began to feel dangerously cramped. With her hands held high in the air in a victorious pose, her muscles subsumed by the strength of the beat, Cadenza was the first to feel the metallic superstructure holding everything together, and soon enough her head would be pushing up against beams and rafters, with everything around beginning to grind and groan as her body pushed against the tight confines of the arena; the crowd climbed onto her, cheering her on, demanding more, and while the giantess was still mostly focused on nurturing that burning source of energy within in, she was nevertheless more than happy to provide. The rest of the city and its surrounding suburbs would be given a rude wake-up call when the already-loud music began to reach areas that it really shouldn’t, the curvature of the planet no obstacle for the sheer strength of the soundwaves produced by the titanic snake’s techno-organic components. She could feel the beat through every inch of her skin, every ounce of muscle and bone… and there were a lot of those, considering she hadn’t stopped growing and the entire stadium had already begun to fall prey to her increasing size. It was almost too easy, with her not even having to rip chunks of it away; rather, all it really took was for her to look in the general direction of an obstacle and the vibrations coming from her hood would eventually get rid of it, turning it into a warped and bent version of itself before the whole thing was turned to a thin dust. How exactly the squishy people dancing on her body weren’t being affected was anyone’s guess, but it also wasn’t a priority for Cadenza to figure out; just as long as they were safe, then that was all that mattered. In the meantime, the world became her plaything. No need to move anything out of place, because either it was atomized by the increasingly powerful, rhythmic pulsing waves produced by the speakers on her hood, or it was shattered and broken in the old fashioned way, when her tail made its way clean through whatever was in front of it, alternatively flattening or just outright crumbling it depending on its constituent materials. The entire metropolis would very quickly be infected by the same sensory overload that those in the stadium had already gone through; even those who had been woken up by the noises couldn’t find it in them to be even slightly annoyed, because why would they ever complain about being given such a beautiful gift? Especially when all they had to do was crack open a window and look outside to be able to see Cadenza’s frame, looming over the whole city as it progressively occupied more and more of the horizon. The titanoboa herself wasn’t even fully aware of just how immense she had become; then again, it was highly doubtful she’d actually care that much even if she were, given her typical attitude towards growing outwards was general annoyance at the fact that it wasn’t going any faster. For her to be able to turn herself into a beacon, a spectacle of musical self-indulgence, was the height of achievement, and if she could bring others along with her to enjoy the ride, then that was just the cherry on top of the proverbial ice-cream shake. So what if buildings had to be removed from existence at a molecular level as they were shaken apart, so what if others had to be physically destroyed when her body started to grow at an unsustainably quick pace? No one was being harmed, as all those lucky enough to be in the way simply had to stretch out their arms and embrace her as her coils advanced through the urban landscape, so why bother holding back anymore? Each beat, each bassy thrum, added yards onto her form in every single direction, yards more of length to coils that would very quickly grow long enough to be discernible from low orbit thanks to their striking colours. But that still wasn’t enough; it wouldn’t be enough until she was in low orbit, her music bouncing off of the atmosphere so that all those living on the planet could hear it, regardless of where they might be. Her blessings would not go unheard, and if she had to restore hearing for that to happen, so be it. She wouldn’t have to worry too much about that though, given the rate at which things were progressing. Restoring senses to those that lost them was a noble goal and all, but as her growth became exponential and the rhythmic beat continued to mercilessly add more snake onto the already-colossal giantess, Cad’s problems would soon become those of a more planetary persuasion. Well, one said “problems”, but they were hard problematic; perhaps someone who truly cared about stability and the long-term survival of the Earth itself might object to the notion of a serpentine body very quickly growing to encircle the whole thing, transmitting the seismic vibrations of its music to the crust in such a way as to crack and shatter it, all while creating large, all-encompassing waves that threatened to consume most shorelines around the world. Perhaps this hypothetical person might even panic at the prospect of a musical apocalypse wrought by a titanoboa that lived up to its species name and then some. But the magical aspect of it was that there was no such person, or at least they didn’t hold onto their sanity for long enough to really matter. It was, after all, utterly impossible to resist the sounds being produced by Cadenza’s entire body, with the electronics on her hood having long-since linked to the rest of her form in ways that defied even her comprehension in order to spread the infectious, rapturous joy of her new, divine tune to the rest of all furkind. None would be left behind that wouldn’t hear it, feel it, more often than not both as their senses were assaulted from every possible direction, and several others of a more hypothetical nature for good measure; if one couldn’t hear, their brains could still be vibrated at just the right frequency to ensure they received the same message anyway. For once in all of history: unity. Through song. It was poetic in the kind of way that required one’s mind to be in a slightly workable state in order to be truly appreciated, thus excluding… most of everyone alive. Of course, that didn’t preclude them enjoying the titaness’ ascension in their own unique ways; just as the planet was being destroyed by a snake that had miles added in her stature and even more in her tail’s length each time a single beat was produced by one of her speakers, so too did all of her passengers do their absolute best not to give the most singular of shits about whatever was happening outside their immediate area. They each had their own part of Cadenza’s body, often shared with others who climbed onto it at the same time, and that was all they needed; the sounds seemed to energize them, turning them into something akin to perpetual motion machines that lived off the very song they were creating, for they too were instrumental in the perpetuation of the beat. Every single one of them served as a resonator of sorts, through which the vibrations could be magnified and altered in unique, mind-bending ways, until whatever anyone was hearing was more a result of the people immediately around them rather than what Cadenza herself was blasting at full volume. Of course, what the titanobia was subjecting herself to was the purest, rawest form of the transformative beat, unfiltered as it slammed into her every half-second, in time with the tempo in just the most marvelous way. It was perfection in musical form, impossible to transcribe and of unending brilliance, to the point where the giantess was convinced that it wasn’t even her who had come up with it, because no one came up with it; it was a fundamental force, something inherent to their universe, a beat and rhythm that she had stumbled upon after so many years of perfecting her craft. Perhaps it was a gift from some higher being, who chose to bless her with this knowledge that she may unleash it upon an unprepared world, or perhaps she had simply been lucky, and the combination of everything that had happened to her up to that point could only ever have led in that direction. Whatever the case, the tune was hers now, and she was going to use and abuse it to her heart’s content. Soon enough, there wouldn’t be a place on the planet that didn’t experience the effects of Cadenza’s beat, even if her body had merely grown big enough to just barely encircle the Earth once around the equator. It did give the planet a certain distinct aesthetic to it; looking down from high orbit or even from the moon, having that belt of vibrant gray and yellow made for a wonderfully dashing accoutrement, even if it was one that grew thicker and more all-encompassing as time went on and the sounds began to try and break free from the confines of the atmosphere. This would be the ultimate test, in a way; noise simply couldn’t propagate properly in the depths of space, so clearly the music would have to end once Cadenza grew big enough. She could keep it going of course, but it would be nothing more than vibrations at that point… or at least, that’s what science said, and what did science also say about giantess snakes who grew thanks to the power of divinely-inspired song? Very little, as it turned out, and yet she was there, making a right mockery of conservation of mass as her coils tightened their grip around her homeworld and began to outright crack it open like a fragile egg. The only reason she hadn’t done so any earlier was purely because there were still people left who hadn’t climbed on; couldn’t really destroy the whole place if that meant harming someone, so like a good, merciful goddess, Cadenza took her time to allow her precious little ones to get close enough to smack against her scales and then climb to safety. Of course, by that point, volcanic activity around the planet had been turned up to eleven as veins of magma erupted thanks to the pressure she placed on the whole globe, but thankfully, no one was really hurt by it. Singed, perhaps, but not hurt; and besides, as soon as they climbed aboard the goddess musical train, all their wounds would be tended to, all woes taken care of, all concerns made moot. They had Cadenza, that was all they needed. As such, the planet was free to go. With a final burst of size, her coils by that point having circled around the Earth so many times as to hide most of it from view, Cadenza tightened her grip just enough to shatter the rocky body into a couple of thousand differently-sized pieces. Only the solid iron core remained, surrounded by the wispy remnants of the liquid outer portion, but even those were adequately taken care of with just a flick of the wrist; off to interstellar space they went, Cadenza taking their place in the Solar System… for the time being. After all, what was stopping her now? The planet was gone, and yet she remained. Sound was impossible out there in the vastness of the cosmos, and yet she clearly still heard the beat, as did all of her little ones if their endless dancing was any indication. Why, then, should she bother to stop, ever? The whole universe was waiting for her.

Hell's Henchman: Rodentine Rapture Cassandra groaned as she awoke in the same manner that she had for the past three weeks; covered in sweat, her bedclothes soaked with sexual juices and more sweat, and filled with an almost unquenchable fire between her legs. She never remembered the dreams, only the essence of the dreams: that there was something wonderful, beautiful, seductive, and absolutely perfect; able to give her pleasures in her dreams that were impossible in the real world. She remembered whispers, promises of wondrous things. All she had to do was open up and accept them. Cassie supposed she might've accepted the offer, things had been going rather poorly in the last few weeks and she was looking for any spark of hopefulness to cling onto. She'd been evicted from her apartment a few weeks previous. The land lady accused her of being a lesbian and said she'd heard quite a number of feminine pleasure sounds coming from her apartment for several nights, in several different voices no less, and had gotten complaints about it. Cassie had been out on the street 24 hours later, and without a housing recommendation she wasn't likely to find a place of decent quality any time soon. Things were different since the... event, the day a few years prior that had for all intents and purposes ended the world. Telecommunication ceased, satellite signals went dead, stars vanished from the sky, and the very land itself warped and changed in a massive upheaval. People found themselves whisked away from their homes all over the United States, finding themselves there one moment and here the next. The evangelicals said that the end of the world had come and God had swept up the faithful and deserving and plopped them right down in a perfect, placid Garden of Eden where they would have all their needs taken care of while the rest of the world was stricken with horrors and blight and apocalyptic horsemen and all that. Sure, that was one possibility, but judging from the fact that there were thousands of folks that passed through the newly named Confederate Territories of America, the End of the World didn't appear to have been all that bad. There was some trade going on, the CTA did end up with some seemingly miraculously fertile farm land, mines in the nearby mountains, and a nuclear power plant and more than enough trained people to run it. Oddly enough, after a few months of fevered praying and thanking and so on and so forth, life seemed to settle down to a state much as it was before the End of the World. Cassie was middle management in a consumer electronics firm. 'Made in China' had been replaced with "Made in the Suburb Ghettoes where the 'unsaved sinners' from the wastes performed cheap labor for low salaries." Most of them seemed awed by the conveniences of indoor plumbing and electricity. The vast majority looked like refugees from the middle ages. No one really gave much thought to them; it was like most people walking down the street didn't even see them. "The dead risen from the grave," had been Cassie's landlady's theory. Folks from hundreds of years ago that didn't believe quite right, but were given the opportunity to take part in the One True Faith now that the End Times were in full swing. But for most people it was just easier not to think about them. Cassie had realized that most people didn't think about a whole lot, just going about their lives like nothing had happened, and that they were unique, and special, and chosen by God to live in this particular place. Those who said otherwise a bit too loudly tended to be run out of town on a rail, sometimes literally. A few years down the road witch burnings would probably come back into fashion. Though the new laws and moral code that came with the CTA had made Cassie homeless, the strangely miraculous creation of the place also had given her a new one. Central City was made up of bits and pieces from several different Southern cities; and along the 'seams' of where they were stitched together things got a little weird. Cassie's new apartment was something she'd stumbled across accidentally. She'd worked at Neumann Electronics for years, even before the End, and she was quite familiar with the layout of the place. But upon being uprooted from Florida and deposited... wherever... the building had grown a bit. When it was built the east side of the building had faced a junkyard, and thus had been designed without windows on that side. For some odd reason post-End, the building was a good eighty feet wider east to west, though it had lost a bit of length on the north-south axis, and somehow had five additional floors stacked on top from some other office building. No one really questioned it; they'd just reassigned offices and enjoyed the view, being one of the tallest buildings in that particular section of town. She'd been down in the records room and had knocked a box off the side of a shelf. Upon putting it back she'd noticed a handle set flush with the wall. Of course she'd pulled it, and found that the wall swung inwards, and that it wasn't quite a wall, but a door with a bit of drywall and spackle on one side. On the other side she'd found a rather posh apartment with a layer of dust over everything. It had sat there unused for the better part of three years. Cassie had quite enjoyed making it into her secret break room. Earlier in the year she'd taken one of the office PC's into it and hooked it up, having found the standard office Ethernet connections in a few places. The door to the stairwell out in the hall led to a set of employee stairs at the Mega Mall in the middle of town, though thankfully the door to her section required a key and was placed right next to the door for the normal exit. Most people passing by probably thought it was some sort of electrical or ventilation access. The fire escape was connected to that of an expensive apartment complex in some coastal town she didn't recognize; the CTA was utterly landlocked. She'd accidentally gone through it in the middle of the night when she'd been too tired to drive back home shortly after cleaning the place up. It was like stepping into a whole new world, there were strange things floating in the sky, like asteroids stopped in mid-plummet. There were also strange things in the sky, bigger than a man, some bigger than a house, lit up brightly and flying through the air, defying physics with ease. Cassie had barricaded it up, even though it had looked perfectly normal the next day. It was why she'd abandoned the idea of living there. It was wrong, a place where space didn't really seem to matter. It seemed like a hidden, secret place, not meant for her eyes, and it also seemed like... almost like a reward. It was like it was a prize for having the curiosity to explore hidden corners of the world. After the incident, Cassie had always felt a little uncomfortable stepping out into the hallway. With the help of a hardware store and a screwdriver, she'd replaced the locks on every door she'd found. The keys to her apartment, the fire escape, the stairway, and the self-storage unit had been on a single keychain, sitting on the coffee table, attached to a fob with a simple yellow and black winking smiley face. The rental unit had been paid for ten years in advance, and no name had been put down. The company had changed the lock on the unit when Cassie had shown up with a key to unlock it from the outside. The elevator door was hidden behind a stack of crates covered with blue tarps. She'd taken a peek into a few; most were old books in languages she didn't recognize, a few paintings and sculptures. It would likely be worth something to collectors, but Cassie had left it alone. She'd only made off with a few furnishings from the other apartments, which she'd taken to her own. Upon her eviction she'd brought them back, making sure to put everything back where it had been, just in case taking the things had caused her bad luck in the first place. But now Cassie wondered why she'd bothered renting an apartment in the first place. Aside from the strange shock of what she'd seen beyond the fire escape, there had been nothing TOO weird. In fact she found herself feeling more comfortable in her secret little hidey-hole. She'd always slept somewhat uneasily, as she'd been asleep when the world changed. Cassie had woken up and found that everything had been altered. Her apartment, her workplace, everything that was familiar to her day to day life was still there, but her extended family was missing, presumed dead, and the general idea was that the whole world had essentially blown up. Nukes had been involved. She hadn't slept well in the first few months, and she still harbored an irrational feeling that if she went to sleep, things would be radically different when she woke up. But in her new apartment she felt more at ease. It was a strange, special little pocket that was different from the rest of the world. No matter what happened, Cassie would be safe here, she knew that. Her eyes turned towards her alarm clock, she had about 90 minutes before she needed to go to work, even though she seemed to be getting less and less sleep, it seemed to be compensating by being more and more restful. Oddly enough she also seemed to go right into her dreams once her head hit the pillow. Also odd was that it was taking more and more time to slake the lust she woke up with every morning as well. She grinned. "Might as well get an early start," she said with a chuckle. The dreams had been annoying at first; she was drenched in sweat every time, and it made her feel completely disgusting. It had only gotten worse as time went on, finding her sheets and herself covered in more and more of her own sexual fluids. It had gotten to the point where Cassie made sure to drink a gallon of water before bed every night, or else she'd wake up with a serious case of cottonmouth. She'd given up on changing the sheets every time she'd gotten up. Oddly enough she found that she'd come to enjoy the scent. She kept the bedroom door closed when she worked, less she be distracted by the aroma of her own nocturnal climaxes and coaxed into having a few more during the day. Cassie couldn't seem to fully get rid of the scent upon her body, no matter how often she bathed or how well she scrubbed. Without any neighbors to complain Cassie had been having quite the fun time every morning, being able to cry out as loudly as she wanted with pleasure. She'd started looking into ways to improve the 30 or so minutes of self-love she had to do every morning to assure her pussy wouldn't be nagging her throughout the day. She'd tried going without any morning satisfaction once and found herself just about ready to pounce the mailboy. Not only that, but she'd had to stuff her hands into her suit jacket pockets to keep herself from feeling up Jane from marketing. She'd never given a single thought to sleeping with another girl, but she found her thoughts drifting more towards her female co-workers than her male ones. The incident with the mailboy disgusted her; the one with Jane made her feel wistful for missed opportunities. Of course if she acted on it and someone found out, the two of them would likely find themselves in criminal court, convicted of Corruption charges, driven to the outskirts of CTA territory, and dropped off, told never to return. Cassie licked her lips, running a hand over her bare chest; it seemed easier to sleep in the nude these days, less to clean. She'd moved almost all of her possessions alone, and it seemed to have done her body good. Her body had tightened up nicely from all the exercise, looking wonderfully fit and toned. Her clothes felt tighter, though Cassie wasn't sure that her muscles could possibly have grown to such a degree from a few days of exhausting physical activity. For some odd reason, her tits seemed bigger too, her bras tight enough to be a little uncomfortable, but not enough to buy new ones. Cassie imagined Jane, her blouse torn opened, buttons scattered to the wind, those cute little glasses on her face, moaning with delight as Cassie fingered her. Those plum-painted lips wrapped around Cassie's nipple, her tongue tracing over the plentiful orb with practiced glee... Cassie's other hand sought her loins, rubbing over her taut midsection, down over her smoothly shaved groin, and down between her legs, finding her... Finding her... Instead of her dripping folds, Cassie instead found nothing, just smooth skin. Baffled she explored further, finding the area her sex was supposed to be in almost utterly featureless, save for the sensitive nub of her clitoris. Just a simple motion over it was enough to send her into a foggy state of semi-consciousness, driven only by her need for self-pleasure. The strangeness could be sorted out later; all that mattered now was the urge to fuck... -o- Cassie panted in the shower, trying to catch her breath from the bout of absolutely mind-blowing sex she'd just had. With just her clit she'd had orgasms stronger than anything she'd experienced before. She'd heard of things like this happening before in the area, powerful hallucinations of physical alteration, or seeing strange alterations in others. It was believed to be a sort of demonic possession, and it seemed to happen often enough that the big churches were backed up for weeks with exorcism appointments. "It's not real," Cassie repeated to herself, taking in deep breaths, "It's just something's gone a little bit wrong in my brain is all. I'm fine, I'm just fine." It was probably tied to the dreams getting a few wires crossed in her head. It had been awhile since she'd gotten a good lay, and her brain had probably decided to work overtime to satisfy that need. But apparently she'd had a bit too much, and now it was altering her perceptions to say, 'No more playing with this, you've had enough.' She'd been feeling tighter and tighter recently, but she'd assumed it was all the exercise her vaginal muscles were getting, making them stronger. The very thought of a tight pussy made her libido surge, forcing Cassie to her knees as she stroked her oversensitive clit. It felt... bigger for some reason. She winced as she turned the shower to complete cold, hoping to drive out her feelings of need with the icy lances of water. It took a minute or two, but as she was reduced to a freezing, shivering wreck, her desire took a hint from the chill and went into hibernation. She'd never become that needy all of a sudden before. It would probably be a good idea to make herself a doctor's appointment. She trusted someone with a medical degree more than someone with a theological degree, and going to a church for some lectures on the sin of self-pleasure followed by what would likely be an unpleasant and violent encounter did not appeal to Cassie in the slightest. As was the norm the past few weeks, Cassie found her clothes to be tighter than she liked. Her scale said she'd gained a few pounds, but with all the energy she spent every night and every morning Cassie couldn't see how she could possibly be bulking up with what little she ate. She hadn't been feeling particularly hungry, breakfast was a granola bar and occasionally a banana, lunch was a cup of soup, dinner was usually a microwavable meal, or a sandwich and some chips. It was almost an act of contortion to get her bra on, it made it a touch hard to breath, but Cassie had become used to that, it would get easier as the day went on. Blouse, suit coat, heels, panties, pantyhose, and a good length skirt. City ordinance demanded that all skirts be of at least knee length if you were going to wear them in public. They'd also banned any shirts that exposed the midriff. It had been for the best, really. Two words: muffin top. Cassie was for any legislation that sought to reduce the amount of gagging she did when she was shopping. Breakfast eaten, makeup applied, hair styled, teeth brushed, and lunch packed, Cassie hummed to herself happily as she enjoyed the 30-foot commute to work. There was almost never anyone in the records room, so she didn't bother to look. She just ducked down and crawled under the shelf, letting the door close itself behind her. She made sure to lock it as well; she didn't want anybody sneaking into her home. Upon reaching an office Cassie went and made herself a doctor's appointment to get herself looked at for any weirdness. She'd picked a doctor from the red pages, the directory for the individuals who weren't part of the year one census and registration. They were looked upon with suspicion, due to the fact that they'd come out of the wastelands surrounding the CTA, most telling stories of perfectly normal cities filled with all sorts of wonders. Common opinion was that they were just arriving to provide temptation, to lure pure souls out of the new Garden of Eden and out into perdition. The good thing about them, though, was that they actually abided by the old laws regarding doctor-patient privilege. IE: not blabbing everything that was going on to the city authorities, who made sure that every step was taken to assure the greater good; even if that meant locking up folks who were imagining strange alterations to their bodies. The appointment was for Wednesday, two days hence. The rest of the day seemed to go well, until Cassie found herself in a boring afternoon meeting, listening to her boss drone on and on about how to maximize sales potential, and synergizing department resources, and so on. Cassie found herself fixated on the company president's "personal assistant," who changed into her business clothes at work, and thus got around the "public decency" standards. Today her outfit was bright red, and was showing off more of her Hollywood cleavage than usual. If you ever needed to assure yourself that common opinion about The Event was wrong, Eve was all the proof you needed. Before she knew it, Cassie was stroking herself through her skirt. Her need from that morning returned in full force, but rather than an ache and a tide of moisture, it was merely an ache, but an incredibly intense one. The moment she realized what she was doing, Cassie had already slipped her hand down the waistband of her skirt, and was well inside her panties. It felt so good to rub herself; especially while staring at Eve's big fake tits. She was absolutely horrified at what she was doing, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. No one seemed to be noticing, and as long as she kept quiet, odds were that no one ever would. The lights went out and a PowerPoint presentation began, further helping to hide Cassie's masturbation. The sensations felt wrong, her clit felt two or three inches long, and thick enough to wrap her fingers around. It was like having half of an erection. She couldn't quite jerk off, but she could rub her thumb over the end, each motion making her quiver with ecstasy. Cassie let out a quiet moan, she couldn't help it. She felt a shamed blush rise upon her cheeks, but no one so much as turned a head in her direction. She stroked herself faster and faster, unable to stop herself from bending down onto the table, gripping it tightly with one hand as she came closer and closer to climax. She had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from crying out during climax, hard enough to draw blood. But it was worth it, oh was it ever worth it. It wasn't like the climaxes she had in the mornings, slow spikes in pleasure that seemed merely speed bumps on the road of her heightening pleasure, but instead having all her need, all her lust, all her desire building up, becoming tighter and tighter as she held them in, before erupting from her in a powerful, explosive, surging climax. As Cassie's pleasure plateaued, the projector on the ceiling exploded, showering the conference table with a cascade of sparks, drawing cries of surprise from her co-workers. Cassie allowed her own voice to join theirs, but in a cry of supreme bliss, her pleasure surging even higher as the fire sprinklers went off, drenching everyone in the room as Cassie's body bucked in the throes of a second, more powerful climax. The cold water didn't put a damper on her desire this time, she moaned like a whore as her proto-cock erupted with thick surges of fluid, it wasn't cum, and it wasn't pre-cum, it was thicker than either, but also slicker and slimier. It filled Cassie's panties and oozed down her legs. The president of the company glared up at the projector, "Everyone, take the rest of the day off. Send me the bills for dry cleaning or replacement. We'll put this down as an expense." Cassie could see the smile on his face, and followed his gaze to Eve. She could guess that the two of them would shortly be helping each other out of their sodden business attire. She slunk out of the meeting room with a grin on her face, making her way to the nearest one stall restroom. She needed to dry off, and she also needed to get a good look at what was happening to her body. An involuntary shiver of pleasure rocked her as she just realized what she'd done. She'd just fucked herself silly in front of everyone that mattered at her company. She wasn't sure if that was what worried her the most, or the fact that she wanted to do it again. Oh boy did she ever want to do it again. Cassie felt her proto-cock growing fully erect again just thinking about it. "Forget the drying off," she muttered to herself, "Just get back into your little hidey-hole before you start jacking-off in the restroom and can't stop." Thankfully there was an easy entrance to the records room; no one seemed to notice it. There was a small, electric dumb waiter that ran up one side of the building, from back in the days when everything was done on paper. These days it was just easier to e-mail the file down to the front records desk and have them print it out and store a hard copy, or just skip the hard copy process entirely. Cassie enjoyed the strange nooks and crannies of the office building. She began to fondle herself again as she waited for the tiny elevator to reach her. She couldn't help it, it just felt too good not to. Thankfully her position was concealed by a number of fake potted plants placed in one corner of the auxiliary meeting room. For some reason, Cassie felt even more aroused inside the dumb waiter, the tiny, cramped space feeling wonderfully comforting to her as she slowly made her journey downward. The thing was big enough to carry a couple of file cabinets full of paper; she wasn't worried in the slightest about it being able to take her weight. She was such a naughty girl, masturbating at work. The very thought filled her with erotic warmth. It felt all the more fun and pleasurable for doing it in a place where she wasn't supposed to. Maybe she'd sneak out in the middle of the night and sneak around in here? Maybe go up and cum all over her boss' favorite chair? The very thought itself was nearly enough to make her want to climax all over again... -o- It was such a relief to be able to take off her clothes. The clasp to her bra had broken as Cassie fiddled with it, trying to get it undone. Her breasts had gotten noticeably larger during the day, up at least two cup sizes. It wasn't possible; it was just some sort of visual, tactile, and auditory hallucination, but Cassie found herself enjoying it nonetheless. She actually spent several minutes admiring her enlarged tits, both looking in the mirror and with a more hands on approach. They had distracted her entirely from what Cassie had originally wanted to get a good look at. She stripped entirely nude, enjoying the warmth of the apartment. Since she wasn't the one who paid the heating bill, she cranked it up to the point where she was comfortable without clothes, about eighty degrees or so. She flopped into her favorite recliner, covered with a soft silk sheet she'd found in one of the closets and gave her altered groin a good looking over. In the six or seven hours that she'd been awake her clit had gone from a normal sized nub to a six-inch erection that looked almost identical to a proper penis. She was missing the balls and scrotum, and she seemed to lack the extra folds of loose skin upon the organ, but boy did it ever feel good. There was nothing she could do until Wednesday, so she had about forty eight hours to enjoy her new addition. Cassie simply reclined in her chair, slowly stroking her new cock, her mind wandering absently to all the cuties in her office that she wanted to fuck. Eve, the president's slutty secretary topped her list, then Jane, the almost goth-y looking girl from marketing, the twins in accounting, and in a distant fifth place, the weekend mailboy with the long straw-blonde hair and the cute disposition. He was probably gay, though Cassie wasn't sure if having a cock would increase or decrease her chances with him. Either way, she wouldn't mind bending him over the mail cart. A few fantasies resulted in a few copious orgasms, with Cassie coating her belly and chest with thick, translucent cum. It was definitely meant for lubrication, as it was slicker than soap, but Cassie couldn't see a point in having that much come out. Her pretend transformation made no sense, but it was rather fun. Her climaxes made her breasts all slick and gooey, just begging to be rubbed. Running her thumbs over her nipples drew a moan from Cassie's throat, when had her tits gotten so wonderfully sensitive? She spent several more climaxes just toying with them, caressing, rubbing, massaging, pinching, she'd even experimented with how elastic they were: she'd pressed her little finger into one, shortly followed by removing it and replacing the little finger with her index and ring fingers. That was most certainly not normal, and probably not possible, but damn did it ever feel great. She'd lost track of time, enraptured as she was with her self-exploration. The next time she looked up at the clock it was 7:30, the entire afternoon having come and gone without her noticing. Her lust had faded to a pleasant warmth; a feeling of complete and utter satisfaction unlike any Cassandra had ever known. It felt like the proud ache of muscles after a good workout; something that would be eased out with a good long soak. The communal bathroom only had two shower stalls, but one of the other apartments had a hot tub installed in the living room. Cassie had never used it, or poked around too much in there. It looked like something from the set of a 1970's porno. But then again, with her toned body, and her awesome rack she looked a bit like a porn star herself. It seemed that the more she played with a certain aspect of herself, the more it grew. She was going to be completely and utterly unable to get her breasts into a bra for work tomorrow. But she was more worried about her cock. It was a good eight inches in length and about as big around as the circle made by her thumb and forefinger. If she got a hard-on during work, odds were there was going to be no way to hide it. But she'd worry about that in the morning. For now all she was interested in having a nice cup of soup and a nice long soak in that hot tub. The water ran discolored for a little bit, and she let it all drain out before filling the tub with hot, clean, clear water. Cassie liked watching TV as she ate dinner, but the connection in this apartment was a satellite TV box, rather than the cable that her own apartment had. As the tub filled she poked around by the TV, looking for a DVD or something to put on. Her eyes went wide as she saw the titles of the discs. Busty Blonde Bimbos, Cum-sucking Sluts, Slattern Shemales, and so on and so forth. Dinner was forgotten entirely as she filled the six disk changer with the DVD's whose covers made her sudden erection throb the hardest. She slipped into the warm water of the hot tub, and everything vanished into a pleasant fog of pleasure...

He couldn’t sleep. It was one of those nights where he honestly just felt like taking a stroll, waste a couple of hours walking around town under the light of the stars, then come back to his place and hope the exercise tired him enough that he could get some rest; besides, spring was just around the corner, and with the winter cold fading away, he could finally go out past sundown without having to worry about freezing half to death. Still, better to put a jacket on, even if it did hug his bust tightly enough that he could already feel the pressure mounting just from trying to get the zipper up over his tits; such was life. Anthony met with a couple of people on the way out, upstairs neighbors that were returning from wherever they’d gone out to eat dinner; as usual, a couple of courteous words and a friendly nod were all that the social contract required from him, and a few moments after that, he was safely out in the streets, alone with his thoughts and insomnia. It was a beautiful night out, no clouds in the sky to block the view of the stars, no wind to bite at him, and absolutely no one else that he’d have to share a sidewalk with, even if for just a single moment; it wasn’t as if Anthony was a loner, but in times like those, the last thing he wanted to do was engage in social interaction, especially given how late it was. No, his one goal was to walk around aimlessly, take a few laps around town, then go back to bed and hope to wake up early enough to go to work the next day, and to that end, he let his legs do most of the work. It was always an interesting experience, allowing his muscles to determine where he was headed, while his conscious mind drifted off into the aether up above him. Anthony’s eyes were firmly stuck on the sky, observing the twinkling of the stars, thinking to himself that he should take a mental snapshot of what he was seeing so he could compare it to whatever it looked like a few hours from then; not that he was exactly an astronomy enthusiast, but he had to do something to keep himself occupied and at least try to use up whatever energy was still keeping him up despite it being well past midnight. He tried (and mostly failed) to identify the constellations up above, chuckling to himself as he realized just how little he actually knew of them; hell, he could barely even find the northern star, which didn’t bode well for whenever he inevitably got lost in his meandering and had to find his way back to familiar streets. And yet, despite this, he kept walking, even if he was no longer in control of the direction; better that he waste time doing so than sit somewhere and look upwards at formations he didn’t know the name of and a cosmos he barely understood. Thankfully, there was no one around to interrupt him… which was precisely why, after an indeterminate amount of time passed, the sounds of machinery brought him back down to reality and forced him to stop. The noises were alien to him, especially at such a late hour. The town he lived in didn’t have any large factories working anymore, and even if it did, surely they were supposed to be closed down for the day at that ungodly hour; it took Anthony a while to realize he’d somehow managed to walk all the way over to the outskirts, where the old industrial area had been left to rot for the past few years after most of the companies either went bankrupt or decided to outsource the business to somewhere that paid people less. It’d been an immense blow to the local economy, and indeed plenty of people had to move out in search of better life opportunities, which then raised the question of why exactly one of the buildings there clearly had its lights on, and why there were noises coming from inside of it. Anthony looked around, finding the whole lot to be deserted: no cars, no people, no signs of activity whatsoever; as far as he could tell, no one had even cracked open the front gate which blocked the main roadway leading in, leaving it an open question as to how the factory was even running at all. And while saner minds might’ve taken this as a sign that they should probably turn back around, chalk it up to some kind of unknown renovation project and try not to think about the inconsistencies too much, Anthony wasn’t that kind of person; when his mind fully returned from where it was wandering around and focused itself on that odd anomaly, the one thing he could think of was how exciting it would be to check out whatever was happening. It wasn’t as if he could be charged with trespassing, since no one technically owned that land and he heavily doubted the local police would care; take that and add to the mix his own curiosity, and one had the perfect combination of factors that led Anthony to rush towards the front gate, his hands already removing his jacket in order to give him a better range of motion. It was difficult to climb with the sort of body he had, but he was going to give it his best shot anyway; in between his tits, full and heavy to the point where the jacket was better served gathering dirt on the ground than potentially having its zipper torn off, and his nuts, weighing down heavily between his legs, it made for an incredibly awkward bit of acrobatics that left Anthony feeling like he should exercise some more. Granted, the front gate wasn’t the easiest thing to climb over, but considering it was just barely taller than he himself was, he was clearly slacking off on his fitness and had to do something about that; still, a couple of frantic and flailing minutes later and Anthony dropped on the ground inside the industrial lot, just barely avoiding smacking his face against the tarmac. Getting up and rubbing his ass from the impact, he raised his eyes towards the factory, wondering just what might be happening in there: it was an old ice-cream manufactory, of a brand that had long-since been absorbed by a mega-conglomerate and had most of its products pulled off the shelves before having its talent cannibalized. A shame, really; Anthony quite liked their unique sandwiches. And yet, despite this, the lights were clearly on, the machines were clearly running, and he could swear he heard faint voices coming from within; at that point, the young man had convinced himself that this had to be some kind of salvage operation, perhaps in order to cut costs in construction by repurposing any abandoned materials still lying around. This of course meant he had to look deeper anyway; he hadn’t come all that way for nothing. Carefully, Anthony made his way closer to one of the service doors, a faded sign on it letting him know it was for employees only. Curiously, it wasn’t unlocked, nor did age and lack of use leave it rusty and hard to move; in fact, all it took was him turning the knob for the door to swing open outwards with surprising ease, prompting both of his eyebrows to shoot upwards. This surprise was heightened by how loud the sounds became right after he opened the entrance fully, it being clear that there was at least one very loud person shouting orders at whoever might be within the facility. For a moment, Anthony actually hesitated to move further in, believing himself to be overstepping his bounds… and then took a step forward anyway, making sure to keep the door open behind him. The voice kept shouting, louder and louder as he walked through the access corridor towards a large, open door leading to the main factory floor, but the moment he actually turned the corner to try and see what might be going on, it suddenly went quiet. Like a switch had been flipped, the bellowing stopped mid-sentence, and only then did Anthony realize that he didn’t actually remember hearing any words as much as just disparate noises; the fact that there was no one there at all, and indeed the main open area was completely empty apart from an odd contraption on one of the far ends, didn’t exactly help things. His spine froze, and he already had one feet back, ready to springboard him into a sprint for safety when he heard something from up above. Foolishly, he decided to look up instead of jumping back and bolting out of there, giving him just enough time to see what looked to be a series of mechanical arms tipped with large claws descending upon him. He got a single yelp out before they completely encircled him, grabbing hold of his arms and legs, then pulling him up into the air as he ineffectually struggled to free himself from their grasp. All he could do was yell, hoping that someone would hear him, but he knew this was for nothing; no one was out in the streets that time of night, especially not around the industrial area, so barring another insomniac dumb enough to walk into an obvious trap, he was done for. All he could hope for was that whoever had set that trap up was feeling merciful, which, considering he could feel the metallic claws dig into his skin through his clothing, didn’t exactly feel all that likely. Anthony gulped down a few tears and steeled himself for what was to come; no matter what may happen, he had to be strong, lest he find himself breaking down when he needed his courage the most. He was brought over to one side of the factory floor, travelling through the air as the assembly of mechanical graspers moved via a ceiling-mounted rail system; sparks flew in every direction as the overburdened bearings struggled to move the weight of both the tangle of arms and a fully grown adult male, which left Anthony feeling terrified that he might just be dropped on the ground several feet below and end up smushed underneath what felt like a ton of steel. No such luck though; instead, he ended up being pressed against the wall next to the weird-looking machine he’d seen off the corner of his eye, the immense amount of artificial appendages creating such a thick nest around him that he couldn’t see anything past it. They were suffocating him, though whether or not this was intentional or just a temporary restraint would have to be seen with time… and as the seconds passed and the pressure didn’t let up, Anthony began to wonder if he should try to find some god to pray to. Thankfully though, the tangle of arms pulled back just as unexpectedly as it had appeared, leaving only four to hold his limbs against the wall with enough strength that he couldn’t move them around even an inch, and opening his field-of-view just enough that he saw him: the one who trapped him. Or, at least, that’s who he assumed the man was; who else would it be, walking towards him with their hands behind their back, a victorious grin on their face and looking as if they were so sure of themselves that they probably walked into dark alleyways without looking behind their back? Though, it was hardly a man he was seeing; rather, it was a kind of human-like fox thing dressed in a lab coat and wearing what looked to be gold-embroidered regalia underneath, creating a seriously mismatched look that threw Anthony for a loop in the few seconds it took for him to make sense of what he was even looking at. The fox-thing began clapping, revealing a set of large hands with dangerously sharp-looking claws, his toothy grin similarly displaying some very intimidating chompers. And yet, when they spoke, it was the calm demeanour of a businessman discussing their latest acquisition, or perhaps a scientist speaking to a particularly beloved data sheet. “Oh, how long have I waited for this opportunity!” they declared, seemingly to themselves, “For months and months I’ve waited for you to wander close enough that I could snatch you up, and at long last, my efforts have bore fruit!” Anthony tried saying something, but before he could get a single word out, the large vulpine crossed the distance between them with a single flash step and pushed one finger against his lips, shushing him thoroughly. The young man could tell that, beneath the grandiose display and the seemingly professional outlook lay… something else. He didn’t know whether it was anger and rage or something more dangerous like scientific curiosity, but this attitude of theirs was nothing if not a ploy, a mask to be put on in order to lure him into a false sense of security. It was amazing how much it was actually working. “You see, you’ve kept your nature well enough hidden from everyone around you, my dear Anthony,” the scientist (?) spoke up again, “but I know better. I know you’re not a child of this Earth, and I also happen to know what sort of power you have inside of you, waiting to be unleashed upon this world.” They punctuated this statement by unceremoniously poking both of Anthony’s breasts with their index fingers, prompting them to make some incredibly suspicious sloshing noises that Anthony himself hadn’t heard in quite a while; had the arms injected him with something to stimulate lactic production? He didn’t feel anything while being carried through the air, but he wouldn’t put it past this maniac to try and do something like that… especially considering they apparently knew he was an alien? How in blazes did they find that out?! “Honestly, I find your insistence with keeping your cream inside of you and not giving it out to anyone who might want it to be… wasteful,” the vulpine carried on, turning their attention towards the machine to their side, “I’ve been keeping a close eye on you for some time you see, enough that I actually managed to gather some samples of your… excedent. A couple of lab tests were all I needed to confirm that you, my delicious friend, could help revolutionize the industry if only you so wanted; that you insist on living a perfectly mundane life away from your true calling is nothing short of baffling, but not to worry! I’m here to fix that.” That was a threat. There was no other way to interpret those words as delivered in that tone, Anthony was no longer in control there… though what exactly that person was talking about was still so utterly confusing to him that he couldn’t help but open his stupid mouth again and ruin his blissful ignorance. “What… w-what industry?” The look offered by his captor was one of utmost confusion; for a fleeting moment, Anthony genuinely felt bad that he didn’t know the answer to a question that, judging by that expression, was supposed to be self-evident… at least until he remembered what was going on with him and was brought back down to panic. Still, the vulpine approached him once again, unceremoniously cupping both of his breasts with their hands, squeezing his bust hard enough that Anthony could feel as its contents began to spill out; he’d definitely been injected with something if he was lactating that hard already. “Why, ice-cream of course!” the kidnapper replied, as if this was a perfectly normal response to give, “You see, I’ve been searching my entire life for what you might call the perfect flavour, purely for commercial purposes you see, and despite my best efforts, I’ve only ever reached… approximations” - their face dropped, true sadness covering it for a fleeting moment - “Delicious approximations, successful ones at that, but no amount of money can ever truly sate the need for innovation, you see; it didn’t matter if I moved from victory to victory when cornering the market, because what was the point of it all if I couldn’t ever accomplish what I set out to achieve? I ended up spending so much in R&D that my own board of directors kicked me out; told me that I was wasting company funds in fruitless endeavours.” The vulpine spat on the ground, snarling as he turned around to face the contraption to his side once more. Knowing better than to interrupt them, Anthony remained quiet, trying his best to look at what that thing was while simultaneously dealing with the noticeable increase in pressure within his own breasts; he was leaking openly now, with the sugary scent wafting from the droplets of cream being the only evidence he needed to know that the man (?) was serious when they talked about their goals. “Fruitless! Bah!” the fox-thing scoffed, waving his arms around wildly, “The fools wouldn’t know perfection if it stuck its boot up their ass and rammed it all the way up to their mouths! But you… you, my delicious friend, you will help me prove once and for all that such a thing as the perfect flavour can exist! Honestly, I don’t exactly know why your body makes milk with those flavours, but at this point, I don’t think I really care; just as long as you keep making it, then I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” There wasn’t a hint of irony in those words, nor even a threat that time around; as far as Anthony could tell, his captor was completely serious, which just raised a series of uncomfortable questions that he wasn’t sure whether he wanted answered: how long was he supposed to stay there? Would he even be allowed to leave? Was he going to end up stuck to a milking machine for the rest of his life, to be used as the basis for a new brand of ice-cream? It all felt so surreal that he didn’t know where to even begin, hence why when he opened his mouth, all he managed was a shaky: “Don’t I have any say in this?!” “Of course you don’t, don’t be silly,” the vulpine dismissively responded, “what, are you going to tell me you don’t believe me either?” “N-No, I believe you, that’s the problem!” Anthony insisted, not quite knowing where he was finding the courage to shoot back like that, “W-what if I don’t want to be milked?” A single eyebrow was cocked on his captor’s face, the look they gave him cold and icy enough that Anthony could feel his spine freezing just from glancing upwards, forcing him to glue his eyes to the ground like a misbehaving child. How so much power was packed into a simple stare was something he didn’t want to think about, and thankfully, he wouldn’t have to; just as he was getting ready to plead some more, the vulpine pulled a lever on the machine, and with a loud, metallic grind, a pair of mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, their grapplers effortlessly tearing through Anthony’s t-shirt and exposing his sodden bra underneath, only to rip that off as well. With his tits now free, the young man could tell that they were clearly swollen, at least a couple of cup sizes over what their size usually would be, and leaking profusely onto the ground; this was obviously something that his captor wasn’t going to tolerate, as he began working on the machine’s control panel while mumbling something about “waste”. A few seconds later, a large plate on the side of it slid open to reveal two large suction cups mounted on the top of thick, metallic tubes, both of which the vulpine picked up and quickly placed onto Anthony’s chest; the clear glass domes were quite a bit bigger than even his swollen tits, enough that they didn’t quite fit him properly, but judging from the serene look on his kidnapper’s face, he figured that they probably had a plan for that as well. Indeed, after using the two free mechanical graspers to hold the cups in place, the vulpine pulled open one side of their labcoat and produced a small, stainless steel case; with a click, it opened, revealing a set of syringes filled with a clear liquid. “Now, obviously, we can’t expect you to produce enough for the first batch on your own,” they explained, closing the case and pocketing it again, “so I’m afraid we’ll have to make some modifications; don’t worry, these are strictly temporary, and you should only see some residual growth after they wear off in two to three weeks. In the meantime, please try not to struggle.” They didn’t give Anthony enough time to react before carefully jabbing the syringes on opposite sides of the young man’s bust, the fluid chilly as it was forced inside… and, just barely seconds later, immediately triggered its chemical reaction. Anthony could do little but grit his teeth and bite his tongue to hold back the sudden need to moan, as the sense of pressure became overwhelming and began to spill over, somehow, into the outright pleasurable; he remembered feeling this a few times, way back when he still allowed his tits to fill up and didn’t actively take measures against it, so to suddenly have it happen again, and in such an accelerated rate was… suffice it to say, it made the next step in the vulpine’s plan much easier, because they were clearly not going to be satisfied with Anthony’s breasts alone. In fact, no sooner had the captive’s bust begun to swell, filling the inside of the suction cups to capacity as they inched forwards at an alarming pace, than the mad ice-cream maker bent down and ripped off their prisoner’s pants, exposing Anthony’s well-sized bulge and the obviously erect cock tenting their boxer briefs. Licking his lips, the fox-thing turned to the machine again, kicking a hidden panel open to reveal a third, more elongated suction cup, one that was very clearly intended for a far different part of Anthony’s body; the poor guy barely had a second to react before he felt his underwear be torn off as well, cock firmly lodged into a glass tube that, too, was far too big for what he had offer. Again the metal case clicked and again a syringe was produced, again it was jabbed into one of his sensitive areas and again Anthony felt the cold turn to pressure turn to heat, as his dick began to swell to sizes it had never reached before. Acting quickly, the vulpine produced what looked to be a small plastic ring, split it into two and then clipped it just under their prisoner’s base, separating Anthony’s nuts from his cock. “Something to stimulate production,” the self-styled scientist explained, lightly tapping both of the balls in front of his face, “better if we keep some distance between your producers and the output vent, if you know what I mean. Now, I understand what you’re feeling might be a bit more than you’re used to, but I can assure you, this is only temporary; as soon as I’ve collected enough raw material for my newest flavour, we’ll move onto your first break before the second draining session. Is that alright?” It was hard to tell if they were being serious or not anymore, though not from any change in tone; rather, Anthony was finding it impossible to focus when he had to contend with his cock growing, his tits bloating and his nuts suddenly filling far past capacity, all while he was being actively milked on the former two, the sensations he felt coursing through him overloading his pleasure receptors and leaving his mind a mess of emotions that he couldn’t even begin to put to words or explain. He knew he shouldn’t like it, knew he should fight back against what was happening and demand that he be set free, but as he looked down at himself and saw his tits being so massive that he had to crane his neck to the side just to watch as his cock became as long as his torso… how could he not want more? It was probably all the chemicals running through his system, plus the fact that he was literally being drained by uncaring machines and that just happened to tick a few boxes on his preferences list, but Anthony really couldn’t focus on wanting to escape anymore; he had all-but surrendered to the pleasure of it all, with the remaining source of resistance being little more than an encircled holdout slowly being whittled away by an endless onslaught of raw, unfiltered carnal bliss. Everything past that point was a haze, with Anthony’s eyes going half-lidded from the strain of trying to even remain conscious, the only thing stopping him from succumbing entirely to the sheer overload of pleasure being the fact that it existed in the first place; he couldn’t just go under and miss out on everything when he was so generously gifted the ability to experience heaven on Earth by this random, generous stranger. He wasn’t thinking about the fact that his tits and cock were being actively milked for their creamy contents, nor did he pay much attention to the insane ramblings of a fox-man-thing who he couldn’t really care less about; the only thing in Anthony’s mind was the weight, the heft, the knowledge that if he bothered to look down, all of that force tugging on his back would be explained away as just a pair of tits bloated to the point where they covered most of his torso, each one producing milk with a distinct flavour, each one forced to output and produce at its absolute maximum. He vaguely recalled one occasion where he’d been like that, and it took weeks of him not milking himself for his bust to fill up so much; plus, it started to shrink as soon as it began venting all of its stored cream, rather than the perfect equilibrium of filling and emptying that those mounds had achieved after being injected with whatever was in those syringes. Down below, the same could be said about his nuts, both of which had already reached the floor from the ridiculous amount of similarly-sweet-flavoured cum they were producing and storing; he only had one cock after all, and the tubes could only take so much, so after a certain point he just became… pent-up. The reason for the plastic ring became clear, as the separator forced his actual nutsack to sag away from his dick, creating a thin connector of muscle, skin and sinew in between the gigantic rod of cockmeat on top and the enormous beanbag-sized pair of balls underneath. The goal was obviously to stymie the flow and force him to fill up as much as possible, but again, Anthony didn’t care; as long as the sensations kept coming, as long as the pleasure was heightened still, that was all that mattered. How long was he even in there for? He could swear that he fought against his own exhaustion for what felt like hours, no longer trying to rest but actively fighting against his own brain shutting down, hoping to hang on for just a moment more, that he may live through that impossible experience for just a while longer. He couldn’t fall asleep, he wouldn’t fall asleep, wouldn’t collapse… but as much as Anthony tried, and try he did, he had his limits. He was already stretching things out by going out for a walk, so even after a valiant effort to try and force his brain to remain active, there came a point where he simply ran out of energy reserves, and promptly crashed. Not that this actually stopped the ice-cream maker from continuously pushing his body for as long as it could go, mostly because they didn’t even realize their test subject had finally collapsed from exhaustion; it took quite a while before they noticed that, and even then they still went on for a bit before finally turning the machinery off. Anthony woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, though given the shine of the sun on his face, it had clearly been several hours since he was last conscious. There was a certain amount of silence around him, broken only by the occasional sounds of liquid sloshing about, awakening a few memories within his tired mind; he recalled something about going out to have a walk, something about a factory, something about ice-cream? They were all foggy, vague recollections, none of which he succeeded at piecing together before his brain booted up properly and his eyes opened, revealing that he was stuck to a wall, standing up, and had a bunch of machinery plugged onto him; suddenly, everything that had happened the night before came rushing back in, the small mental barrier his brain erected for its own protection collapsing under the slightest amount of pressure… enough that the tubes had to contend with a couple more loads of his cotton-candy-flavoured cum after he woke up enough to process sexual pleasure again. He could scarcely believe that it hadn’t been a dream, that it had actually happened, and, worst (best?) of all, that he was still stuck there and the weird fox-man-thing wasn’t anywhere near him; was he supposed to just stand there, feeling as his pillowy tits and that couch of a nutsack of his began to fill up again, never to receive any attention? He wasn’t even thinking of getting out, he just wanted someone to turn the machine on and take care of all that pressure he was suddenly feeling! “Oh, you’re up! Good,” came a voice from his left: the vulpine had returned, still dressed the same, though their ruffled fur might indicate they’d gotten up from a nap recently, “I had to go out for some coffee after I had a rest. Glad to see you’re still rearing to go though.” Anthony didn’t like that smile. “Ready for the second phase?”

Everyone living within a five-mile radius of Sarah’s home received a text message the second she got up for her daily stroll, warning them to abide by the same safety rules one would during a regular earthquake. It was standard practice for those living in the metropolitan area, hence why there was even an automated messaging system to begin with, and most had grown to accept it as part of their routine; no one ever gotten hurt because of it, plus the show that was put was on sufficiently distracting that it served as its own payment for the mild inconvenience it sometimes posed. Sarah was mindful enough not to get near any major roadways, preferring to keep to the outskirts when stretching her limbs like that, and more often than not ended up sitting down on an empty patch of grass and simply enjoying life as it was rather than complete a lap around the suburbs; she was supposed to get some exercise in, but really, that was the least of her concerns. Normally, the local mayor’s office wouldn’t go to the trouble of setting up an alarm system like that one, even for someone who was close to thirty feet tall; while macro-level individuals weren’t exactly common, they weren’t so rare that people had no clue how to deal with them, and with many tried-and-true size management strategies to pick from, it would be child’s play to house a small population of macros without much concern. No, the reason why thousands upon thousands of people received a text message warning them of the giantess moving around was not her body per se, but rather two very specific parts of it, the same ones that created a sonic disturbance far greater than a purely physical one. It used to be that Sarah’s bust was of a reasonable size, back when she was a young twenty-something, barely twenty feet in height, and carried around a pair of tits that merely went down below her knees and jutted out so much from either side of her that each portion of sideboob was wider than her torso; occasionally she’d reminisce about these days, chuckling to herself when she recalled how much she believed her size couldn’t possibly turn into more of a “hassle”. How little did her past self know that the moment she turned twenty-six, her body would decide that she was due for a second puberty, and not only slap even more height and overall size onto her, but somehow get her breasts to start producing milk despite the lack of any reason to do so! It wasn’t altogether strange for someone with the hyper gene, but the way in which she filled up certainly was; while others would have their bust swell until such a point as it needed to be drained, mostly as a result of the pressure they felt, Sarah herself never went through the latter. She expected to, at least initially, so much so that she told herself that the only reason she wasn’t draining her milk factories on the regular was purely so she could find out how much they could hold. At the start, this was an entirely genuine sentiment; Sarah figured that she could keep going for as long as her tits didn’t feel like they were about to burst, so as long as she was comfortable, then surely she didn’t need to have them emptied out. It just so happened that, regardless of how much milk those things produced, the internal pressure never really went up at all, with the amazonian Growlithe remaining just as comfortable and mobile as always regardless of how much her breasts swelled with backed-up production… and swell they did, burgeoning with additional mass and size until they were big enough to pose a genuine threat to Sarah, on account of blocking her view of whatever was in front of her if she didn’t part her cleavage. Or would, if the giantess didn’t seem to be aware of every obstacle she faced, despite the fact that she never had a clear line-of-sight; must be the canine senses she was blessed with, because no one really had an explanation otherwise. The size of her dairy factories became an issue extremely quickly as well, with them filling up with so much cream that their size was permanently altered; Sarah was certain that, even if she did go to the trouble of fully draining herself, her tits would still end up big enough to just naturally rest on the ground and still manage to rise up to eye-level… which, frankly, was exactly how she liked it. In reality, the Growlithe had the added bonus of her mounds being stuffed to the nines with milk, in a process that seemed to have no effective end; they just kept filling, regardless of how impossible that should be, even long after their size had stabilized. This should have left her milkers so dense that they collapsed into neutron matter after just a couple of months of overfilling, but for whatever reason, not only did nothing of the sort happened, but her breasts remained just as soft, just as pliable, and just as happily bouncy as they always had been; no matter how much dairy was pressure-packed into them, regardless of how many countless thousands, nay, millions of gallons of the stuff were being kept inside of her bust, she was still perfectly capable of pushing her hands into them and just keep going until her arms vanished all the way up to the shoulder, and all of it without wasting a single drop as well! The thought that someday she might fill up completely and end up feeling the full extent of all the cream she had stored up did occasionally occur to Sarah, but mostly tangentially; overall, the giantess had come to terms with the notion that she’d just keep building up her reserves ‘till the end of her life, a fact she was more than happy to live with, especially after she met Arthur. One could be forgiven for thinking the pairing was unlikely to the point of being downright illogical, but all the two needed was to start talking about their mutual love for classical music for them to hit it off. They’d had a chance encounter in one of the few occasions where Sarah did actually cause a bit of a scene, just after her second puberty kicked in and the Growlithe was still trying to adapt to that new body of hers; entirely by accident, she had tripped on a power line and severed it completely, requiring extensive repairs which had to come out of pocket. Not that difficult, considering the subsidies she received purely for existing, but still enough to get her to wince at the loss and pay extra attention to where she walked in future strolls. The best thing to come out of it all, however, was when she had to meet with the man in charge of assessing the damages, a young Lucario around her age, who seemed thoroughly unfazed by the sight of a colossal Growlithe with tits bigger than their body carrying herself around as if she was as light as a feather. While initial impressions were purely on a professional level, the two managed to find some time to chat while Arthur waited for his personal laptop to connect with the company network, and from there, well, the rest was history. Within a couple of short weeks, they’d had their first date, and from there it was just a matter of time before they were regularly meeting up and discussing plans for the Luca to move in; it’d be impossible for Sarah to leave her estate on the edge of the suburbs, especially if she were to trade it for an apartment downtown, and besides, it was a genuine upgrade as far as Arthur was concerned. Sure, he’d need to resort to ladders and ropes in order to move around the house properly, but if the payoff for that was having Sarah there next to him at every hour of every day, then he wasn’t about to say no. The size disparity between the two might be so pronounced that it made regular intimacy quite literally impossible, but the two were nothing if not inventive, and with Sarah in particular being extremely imaginative and open about how she used her body, it didn’t take a lot of effort for the budding couple to find new and creative ways to have fun together, even if they inevitably led down the same path: tits. It might be obvious, but then again, they were also the best part of her as far as Sarah was concerned; there were just so many ways that one could make good use of them, especially with how soft they were! Sarah being so much taller than her partner also meant that, in proportion, the little guy could use either of the two mounds as a personal bed with plenty of room to spare, and thanks to surface tension and softness being what they were, whenever he tried he would always end up sinking so much into the Growlithe’s breastflesh that the giantess had to pluck him out of marshmallow just to keep her loveable idiot from suffocating… though not before leaving them there for a good ten minutes or so, to enjoy a full-body massage and a complete sensory shutdown as a result of all the noise. For the biggest issue with her bust, and this was an issue even in Sarah’s perspective, was that it was loud, and that was something she could do very little about; as much as she could easily carry her tits around, they were still host to who knew how much milk roiling about inside of them, and the only method that ensured they remained somewhat quiet was being perfectly still. Seeing as Sarah enjoyed doing things, this was very rarely an option outside sleep hours, and even then it required heavy harnesses and a lot of good fortune; out and about during the daytime, however, the giant canid wasn’t about to hold herself back, especially because nothing could hold her back. Using bras wasn’t exactly an option, which in itself had led to a myriad of complaints about public indecency, and as much as she could try and physically hold her tits herself, there was only so much she could do with a pair of arms that were woefully inadequate compared to the titanic heft of her bust. Even the fact that her tits had to be dragged along the ground didn’t help her; somehow, despite their size and how they very clearly scraped against the surface of the Earth, there was never any trail of destruction left behind them, with their softness apparently enough to get both mounds to mould themselves perfectly around whatever obstacle happened to be in the way. In the process of doing so, however, they moved around quite a bit, and in doing so agitated the vast amounts of milk stored up inside of them, creating sonic shockwaves as a result of all the sloshing about, ones that had become such a prevalent phenomenon that the city she lived near had to be the only one on the planet where most of the windows were built out of reinforced glass panes rather than the regular stuff. This was perhaps the one aspect of her biology that gave Sarah the slightest reason to be embarrassed, or at least left her the tiniest bit bashful about her situation, if only because it was so inconvenient to everyone else; thus, she tried her best to find any way to help reduce the amount of noise she produced, hence why her daily strolls had gone from her happily walking about like she was still at her old size to more carefully placing one foot in front of the other while deliberately avoiding any large-scale motions that could potentially create a cascade of shockwaves powerful enough to yield a cacophonous catastrophe. It was hard work, hence why she spent most of her time out sitting down, but at least now that she had her wonderful little Lucario to keep her company, Sarah could afford to spend some time doing nothing but playfully teasing him with how big she was, how productive her mammaries were, and how stuffed she “felt” at any given point; it was a narrative for her to play out, but one that both of them thoroughly enjoyed, especially when talk of evolution came about. It was never serious, mostly because the implications would be as tremendous as the sizes involved, but it was always fun to sit down and go on, at length, about all the changes that would take place if the Growlithe ever became an Arcanine; it was a known fact that everyone of their kind grew in size whenever they evolved, but typically, since most folks weren’t macros of that scale, said growth was limited, usually nothing more than a few extra inches in height. Even with hypers, any additional expansion they might undergo would still leave them perfectly mobile and mostly unhindered, even if they lucked out on the extra bits compared to the general populace. Sarah though? Sarah operated on such vast a scale that to even consider the possibility of evolution would be to condemn oneself to the mental image of a veritable goddess emerging from the cocoon that was that giantess’ body; it was impossible to contemplate the possibility of it, precisely because the changes wrought to Sarah’s form would at some point break physics just to keep her going, and though she’d been lucky enough not to collapse the entirety of reality as a result of her tits’ density, one could never be too sure about how much the cosmos was willing to stretch the line. This was, of course, assuming she’d grow in the first place; it was entirely possible that any evolution would just give Sarah the bare minimum to qualify for that name… but not altogether likely, all things considered. Far more probable was the possibility that not only would she break through every size record she hadn’t already, but the Growlithe-turned-Arcanine would become so vast, so immense, so impossibly colossal that the whole planet would need to be included in the automated messaging system, and that was assuming her scale didn’t go further beyond! Of course, this was just theoretical; at no point did either of the two actually want to test it, but it was still an “interesting”, for lack of a better word, topic to talk about, to consider, to openly fantasize about. Never in their wildest dreams would Sarah or Arthur actually go out of their way to purchase a Fire Stone in order to trigger an evolution, nor would they ever risk such a thing even coming near them to begin with. They didn’t really need to. Other Growlithes might require external aides in order to achieve their full power, unable as they were of breaking through the evolution line without it being done the conventional way. But Sarah was nothing if not unconventional, and her body being the battery of divine power that it was, all she needed was the proper set of circumstances to trigger a release; now, what this would do to her could only ever be speculated upon, much the same as it was with whatever might be capable of making such a thing happen. The two partners were content in simply living their lives one day at a time, under the assumption that it would just happen some day; it being inevitable, there was no point worrying about it, especially not considering how amazing it was sure to be. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and soon enough the couple was celebrating their one-year anniversary, having chosen to take a short vacation into the hillside where they could have some privacy away from the rest of the world; granted, everyone for several miles around could still hear Sarah, but at least they were far enough away that they broke line-of-sight with anyone that could ever bother them. It was here that Arthur, being the hopeless romantic that he was, had decided to take the next step in their relationship; he knew it was silly to pop the question at such a clichéd moment, but he couldn’t help himself. Sarah had blundered into his life and turned it upside down, leaving nothing in her wake but herself as she forcefully restructured the way everything worked; Arthur himself had been forced to take up rock-climbing just to be able to use his house properly, not to mention their intimate moments together being quite impossible to describe despite there not being any… traditional contact, for lack of a better term. Yet, despite this, the Lucario couldn’t help but smile whenever he thought of any of this, for despite the massive changes wrought to his life, he couldn’t rightfully claim that any of them had been a net negative; he was far better off now than he’d ever been, happier than ever before in his life, and Sarah was responsible for this. So he let her know; he let her know, in excruciating detail, just all the ways that she’d made life worth living even more than it had been already, let her know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, no matter how much adaptation would be needed. He let her know, once more, that he loved her, and would want nothing more than for her to say “yes”, right before wordlessly producing a small, velvety box from one of his pockets and opening it right in front of Sarah’s eyes. The moment was somewhat undercut by the fact that he was half-buried in cleavage, but the sentiment remained the same, as did the explosion of emotions that came out of the giantess after seeing the ring shining under the sun: confusion, glee, tearful joy, an unending sense of happiness that seemed to sprout from a bottomless wellspring, all wrapped together in a neat bow and delivered straight to her doorstep. She couldn’t say yes, because her voice had stopped working; Sarah certainly tried, but the only sounds that came out were more akin to inelegant blubbering than anything else, with her emotions running high enough that her whole body was shaking and her eyes looked to be turning into waterfalls. That said, the tight hug that came after the question was enough of an answer for Arthur to know he hadn’t massively overstepped his bounds, as was the Growlithe tipping forward and pinning him onto the ground, licking his entire body in what he presumed was supposed to be a kiss. Perhaps the best way of exemplifying how beside herself Sarah was came from behind her: the Growlithe’s tail was wagging with such force that it had already ripped several trees from their roots and created a couple of twisters from air currents alone, and it only seemed to be wagging even faster with each passing moment! Arthur himself had the goofiest smile stamped on his face, his muscles hurting from keeping that expression up so much; not that he could do anything about it, as it was mostly involuntary, his brain being so overwhelmed by the positive response that he could probably hold that toothy grin for the whole day and still want to go for seconds. Now, if only Sarah wasn’t so intent on keeping him underneath her enormous bulk, then perhaps he could be enjoying the situation a bit more; as much as he adored being stuck inside her plush softness, there was a limit beyond which it began to grow suffocating… especially when the ambient temperature began rising as a result of the giant Growlithe growing increasingly aroused at whatever her brain decided should trigger horny energy release that time around. The Lucario hadn’t expected that response, but he certainly wasn’t about to complain; the two of them had come out to the countryside for a reason, after all. It was only after the shaking refused to stop that it slowly dawned on Arthur that what he was experiencing might not be the shivering of a mind beset by thoughts of marital bliss, but something else altogether; Sarah was still occasionally sobbing, her body flinching as she dealt with the emotional aftermath of the proposal, but beyond all that, her form seemed to… vibrate. Like a colossal, fluffy diapason, it was a constant frequency, only one whose volume got louder over time, until it didn’t so much fill Arthur’s ears as it did completely take over every cubic inch inside of his head, resonating within his skull to the point where he had to bring both his hands over to his temple just to keep his balance. Yet, for some reason, it didn’t trigger that primal part of his lizard brain that let him know it was supposed to be painful; the Luca recognized that it should, but instead the noise left him feeling… whole. Complete, as if he’d been missing something for his entire life and just then been given whatever it was; ‘twas only after the Growlithe’s body above him began glowing, a bright white light coming seemingly from nowhere, that he understood what was happening, and fully grasped the significance of his proposal. He couldn’t have known, of course, no one could; then again, now that he did, he would’ve happily done it all over again even if he were aware of the risks. How could he not, if his actions had finally unleashed his beloved’s full power? It’d be criminal not to immediately trigger such a transformation if he had the option to do it… especially since it seemed to be spreading to him as well! At first, Arthur assumed it was merely a trick of the light; there was plenty of it, given Sarah’s size, but after a short while it became undeniable that he himself was also glowing; a sympathetic evolution, perhaps? Or maybe the soon-to-be-Arcanine’s power reserves were such that her ascension into their new, glorious form had to shed energy in order to stabilize, and it just so happened to conglomerate in the one other person where it could? It didn’t matter; what did matter was that Sarah was evolving, he was as well, and the two were about to find out what a year of being together meant when it came to their future as a couple. Both of them closed their eyes at roughly the same time, unbeknownst to one another, giving up control of their muscles so their bodies could be as limp and receptive to any changes as possible; that they thought this would do anything was proof positive of how little they understood of their own biology, Sarah’s especially, because the first moment alone was enough to utterly shatter whatever expectations they might’ve had. The Growlithe didn’t so much “grow” as she did assert herself over the landscape; one moment she was the same way she’d always been, thirty feet tall and with tits bigger than her, and in the next her head had broken clean through the lowest cloud layer while her bust had expanded to such a ridiculous degree that each breast could potentially hold about a dozen or so Sarahs with some room to stretch their limbs… and it only got worse with every tick of the clock. The Growlithe was still a Growlithe; what she was going through was not the evolution itself, but the initial transformative process meant to facilitate the final change. Typically, these were minor adjustments to one’s physical form, so small as to not even be noticeable compared to the final product, so the fact that they were already ludicrous enough to cause that level of expansion was… certainly illustrative, if one were feeling generous. Down below, the Lucario was being taught a lesson in size management as well, whining and moaning for more as his body was wracked by pleasure waves coming from the surplus mass and energy being siphoned from Sarah’s body into his own. He didn’t even have time to experience the full ascent, cheated of this one pleasure by way of the universe needing to equalize the two lovers before finally letting them have what they were looking for. A couple of seconds were all that Arthur needed for his sudden upsurge in size and mass to leave him at about the same height as his now-fiancée, albeit with significantly more bulk than her; it only made sense really, seeing as if Sarah was blessed by a bust too large for her to carry properly, then it stood to reason that he should get the muscle power required to haul all of it around! In the meantime, the couple continued to warp and shift in ways that defied the laws of physics, breaking conservation of mass in a manner that would’ve left even the craziest of theoretical crackpots reeling from the shock; one cloud layer after another, they became taller still, and with every heartbeat, it felt as if Sarah’s tits bloated by hundreds of cup sizes, and Arthur’s already-impressive musculature only multiplied itself further. It didn’t take long before the Lucario was buried underneath his own bulk, yet still perfectly capable of moving his limbs as if he didn’t have a city-sized set of biceps in the way; similarly, it only took a few seconds more before each of the Growlithe’s milktanks had burgeoned to a size so ludicrous as to effectively be capable of containing the world’s oceans, accounting at least for how densely pressurized they… weren’t? It was such an odd feeling to suddenly be made aware of, but it was definitely there; caught in the throes of passion as she was, Sarah had failed to notice that her chest, quite paradoxically, felt significantly lighter than it had before, it taking her some time before she connected the dots and fully realized what had happened. Of course her sudden evolution had been so explosive: she had plenty of fuel stored up in reserve to burn up for it. It hit her hard enough that the Growlithe practically stumbled backwards, the notion that she was undergoing some sort of milkgasm-induced growth spurt a bit too much for even her to handle; yet, at the same time, it felt so right for her ascension to be caused by such a thing that she couldn’t help but smile wider, to laugh, to cry in joy as she recalled what had triggered it. She couldn’t help but throw herself at Arthur, shouting his name as loudly as she could physically manage it, knowing that even though his head was, by that time, at the bottom of a mile-deep pit lined with raw neckbulk on all sides, he’d still be able to hear her just as perfectly as if she were whispering into his ear. And, in return, so too did the Lucario return the favour, calling out for his beloved Sarah, that she may know that he was there, he was there for her, and he would never leave. Thus it was that the final stretch began, and the changes wrought to their bodies ceased altogether in preparation for the final size burst; when they were done, Arthur would enter his Mega-evolved form and Sarah would become a glorious Arcanine goddess, and together, they would be massive. The preparations alone had left them gargantuan: three hundred feet tall, and yet their height was so pathetically unimpressive compared to the gains they received in the rest of their proportions that it was practically pointless to even bring it up at all. To think that this was their equivalent of some minor housecleaning was enough to bring them to their edge and then straight off it, not particularly caring about what a shared climax might do to the world around them; indeed, it was exactly what their physical forms needed to trigger the evolution itself, and the instant the couple held one another tighter than ever before, their bodies succumbing to a rush of hormones powerful enough to quite literally drown out an entire city, the light emanating from them produced a final flash, and with it, a release. It wasn’t just them either. Sure, the actual evolution itself might have been so powerful that everyone on the planet felt it, but it wasn’t because of the earthquake-inducing shockwave, or the pair of howling moans that broke the sound barrier several times over; Arthur was entirely correct in his belief that his own evolution had been the result of Sarah’s own change spilling over into the outside world, as her body was possessed of so much raw energetic potential that, quite frankly, it simply couldn’t use it all. Even when the now-Arcanine blasted through the many layers of the atmosphere, even when she, in a fit of panic, pushed herself off the planet in order not to break it apart, even when her bust overflowed to the point where she had to point it awkwardly away from their homeworld, lest a single nipple swallow the globe without even needing to be opened, she still had enough to share… and so she did. It might’ve been involuntary, but if she were given the chance, Sarah would’ve done the same of her own volition; how could she not, knowing now how divine it felt to transcend one’s boundaries in such a manner? It was highly unlikely that anyone would ever get close to what Arthur was like, let alone her, but that was hardly the point when she could spread joy regardless and allow billions of souls to billow outwards and overtake the landscape. Besides, she and her loving fiancée were in orbit, far away from civilization and fully capable of both watching and avoiding doing any further damage; a perfect opportunity for the ascendant Arcanine to effortlessly pluck her future husband from his spot beside her and shove him directly into her cleavage, just like she always did, that he might enjoy his usual fare of being utterly buried by sloshing, milk-filled tit… just, well, on a planetary scale that time around. No point changing what was broken, after all. Not when they still had so much room to fill.

It always had to be on her shifts. Everyone else got the easy stuff: changelings without the slightest clue about how other sentients behaved, infiltrator agents who thought that “subtlety” was trying to talk to their on-station contact in the middle of the cantina because “it was loud”, even occasionally other, more advanced threats that consistently failed to live up to expectations. And yet, without fail, whenever she donned the security garb, something awful happened and the whole station was suddenly in danger from whatever horrendous creature from beyond the veil decided to come sharpen its teeth on their little slice of corporate heaven; that day, it was a representative of the SWF: a goddamn space wizard. Just the words alone were enough to make Aleksi sigh as she walked past her panicking coworkers and calmly strolled into the armory, making sure to leave her protective gear in a neat little pile before taking the bigger, armor-plated riot suit, an upscaled shotgun, and enough shells to turn whatever was in front of her into thin paste. She’d fought plenty of those crazy old bastards before, and every single time they made the exact same mistake: assuming that a fireball beat a face full of lead. Thus, even as everyone around her ran from place to place, shouting incoherently as they tried to convince their shift captain that the wizard was not friendly and meant them only harm, the lizardess placidly went through her mental checklist, making sure to fasten the riot suit properly and take an extra box of shells just in case she needed it; someone else was going to have to make do without it, but frankly, Aleksi didn’t trust anyone other than herself with those things, especially not that crew. The alarms blared all over the station, the on-board AI shrieked in abject terror once a school of ravenous space carp were summoned into its core in such an angle that its defensive turrets couldn’t help it, and the command staff was still trying to piece together if there was anything wrong at all; the usual, really, and not nearly enough for Aleksi to even think about cocking an eyebrow, the lizardess reserving that particular action for the shotgun held in her hands. Those who’d worked with her before knew better than to stand in the way of seven feet of plate-armored lizardess on the warpath, and those who hadn’t would soon learn that if they didn’t obey her demands to “MOVE!” the first time, they’d get a shotgun stock to the face immediately afterwards. There was never any shortage of complete idiots who believed themselves to be God’s gift to on-site security, those who saw someone like Aleksi, whose full body was decked in heavy protective gear, and thought it’d be a great idea to try and wrestle the shotgun off their hands so they could be the hero. And, just like every other time, the lizardess left behind her a trail of moaning, whining pissants with various broken parts of their bodies before she even got close to her target: the goddamned wizard. As usual, it was the kind that slung around fireballs and turned whoever they touched into horrifically mutated facsimiles of clowns decked fully in bright, vomit-green neon clothing, occasionally teleporting short distances whenever anyone got too close for comfort. That much got her to sigh; it had been so long since the last time she’d seen an SWF member who showed the slightest bit of originality, and didn’t just go for what was trendy at the time. Honestly, considering how utterly unimportant the station she was assigned to happened to be in the grand scheme of things, maybe that’s why she only ever saw the shit wizards: the good ones were sent to places that actually mattered, rather than backwater research facilities like hers. It was a… comforting thought, for lack of a better word, because Aleksi was more than certain the average security knucklehead she was forced to work with wouldn’t stand a chance against anyone with half a brain; hell, they didn’t stand a chance against those amateurs, so what hope did they have against anyone better? One wouldn’t expect someone like her to be difficult to miss, especially considering the full riot suit she had on, but whenever the lizardess wanted to clear large spaces without being interrupted, she could be surprisingly stealthy and agile; the moment she spotted the robed madman slinging fireballs around in front of medbay, Aleksi practically jumped the several yards that separated them with a single motion, landing heavily next to the wizard… who immediately turned around to face her, gave a short yelp, and then promptly vanished just an instant before the security amazon’s hand closed on their neck. No worries; they didn’t seem capable of teleporting too far away, so all that she had to do was swivel around and surely she’d be able t- “Look out!” Something instinctive activated itself within her mind, and her muscles reacted accordingly. No sooner had she heard the warning than she jumped forwards, the one direction she could see that didn’t have any wizard in it; a moment later, something searingly hot came flying through where she’d just been standing, with Aleksi turning around just in time to have to shield her eyes from the blast of a fireball hitting one of medbay’s outer walls. Off to the other side, the wizard was already getting ready to cast a brand new spell, but sadly for them, this wasn’t the lizardess’ first time around the rodeo; lightning-quick, she pointed the riot shotgun at the man’s face and unceremoniously discharged it, knowing for a fact that the distance was too great for anything other than a wounding shot. No matter; as long as blood was drawn, she was winning… which made it slightly annoying when the magical lunatic managed to duck behind a wall before the pellets flew right past them, hiding from sight. Aleksi growled, firing at where she assumed the wizard was hiding behind, managing to score a few glancing hits, judging at least from the pained grunts coming from the other side; when one of her rounds failed to elicit any response, she quickly reacted by swivelling her whole body around and sweeping through the air with one of her hands, managing to successfully grab onto the wizard’s throat after the sneaky little thing thought to teleport next to her. The force of the impact, when she picked him up and pinned him against the wall so harshly that she could very well just choke him to death there and then, was not enough to fully knock the wind out of the man’s sails; though they were clearly in pain, they somehow managed to utter an incantation that Aleksi had never heard before, and thanks to them effectively being in melee range, the lizardess didn’t have nearly enough time to dodge what came next. It wasn’t a fireball though, nor did she suddenly start honking for no reason. Rather, a bright red flash filled her field of view, along with a demonic-sounding cackling that had absolutely not come from the wizard; in fact, the madman himself seemed to be as afraid of what they’d done as Aleksi was of whatever it would do to her, and though she could feel the spell had glanced her and left some sort of residual effect on one of her sides, this was just the opening she needed to put an end to the threat once and for all: two seconds later, the wizard had a riot shotgun to the bottom of his chin, and a second after that, there was no more live wizard. Aleksi let go of the now-headless corpse, breathing heavily as her free hand was automatically drawn to the side of her body, where the spell had cut through her torso… though, oddly enough, there was no damage there. Just as people around her started to call for the janitor to come clean up the mess, the seven-foot giantess just… stood there, staring at herself, looking down at a part of her body that was clearly hurting, and yet looked no worse for wear; even the riot suit was intact. “Aleksi!” The crackle of a radio. Someone was trying to talk to her. “Aleksi, report in!” her headset blared into her ear, “Getting reports that the wizard is dead, can you confirm?” The lizardess looked down at the limp body of what used to be a wizard and the red smear all over the wall next to her that happened to be studded with bits of bone. Yeah, didn’t get more dead than that. “Confirm, wizard’s dead,” she replied to her commanding officer, “get the medbay staff to cremate the body and the clean-up crew to take care of the blood, I need to go take a bath.” With that, Aleksi turned back from the scene of the showdown and headed towards the security department, not particularly paying attention to the Head of Security reminding her to put the riot suit back in place. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of the basics, especially when that damned spot on her torso was still aching something fierce; with the wizard gone, at least she’d earned the right to some rest before going back out to the station for another patrol, and she was going to make good on her stated intent to take a relaxing shower. A long, piping hot shower, one that would help to relieve some of the… pain? Discomfort? It was hard to tell what she was supposed to be feeling, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as she initially thought it was; in fact, the closer she got to the armory and the more she walked, the less it really hurt at all, replaced by a somewhat soothing sensation, not unlike the relief one felt after a particularly strong workout session. Maybe the spell really had missed her, and the spike in pain she felt initially was just a result of that; it’d certainly explain everything. This was somewhat confirmed after she left the riot suit and shotgun back in their proper place and walked over to the living quarters, finding her assigned room and locking the door behind her. After taking her jumpsuit off to inspect the damage, the only thing she could find was a small bruise somewhere around where she assumed the wizard had tried to hit her; nothing out of the ordinary, and more than likely just a kinetic impact gone wrong, presumably after the wizard tried to unleash some unfathomable beast and utterly failed to do so. Still, she said she was taking a bath, so she was going to take a damned bath, and a few moments later, the water was already running. She cherished these moments, where she could take as much time as she wanted while on the clock and no one could really say anything about it; the job was so boring most of the time that putting her life on the line was almost worth it just to break up the monotony. Plus, the pay was good enough, and what were the captain or HoS going to say about her taking her time to clean the blood off of her, to go back to… patrolling the kitchen? Checking if Departures was just as empty as it usually was? She’d just single-handedly dispatched a wizard, and she was going to make damned sure to milk that opportunity for as much as it was worth; besides, the water felt exceptionally good on her after getting out of the stuffy riot suit, giving Aleksi plenty of reasons to just close her eyes, lean back against the wall of the shower, and let the warmth flow down from the top of her head, along her curves, and onto the floor. She remained like that for some time, not particularly caring about whether or not she was needed; the intercom was in the bathroom on top of her clothes, so if her presence was needed, they could just shout loudly enough and she’d hear it eventually. And yet, for once, Aleksi began to wonder if she should answer the call; something about what happened left her feeling… odd, almost as if she were dissociating just the tiniest bit, like everything up until then had been a hazy dream and she was just waking up. Her vision grew foggier, the outside world becoming blurry and harder to make out, but it wasn’t until she forced her eyes open that the lizardess noticed this wasn’t something internal to her: the water around her really was evaporating a lot more than before. In fact, looking up at the shower revealed that the jets barely got an inch out of the showerhead before vanishing, replaced by a plume of vapour that began to fill up the small space she was inside, thoroughly fogging up the glass planes and seriously increasing the temperature around her. Yet, for whatever reason, it didn’t feel uncomfortable; in fact, despite being able to sense the heat rising to levels that should’ve left her pouring with gallons of sweat, Aleksi had honestly never felt as great as she did in that exact instant. Had she accidentally tripped onto some kind of sauna setting? Did the station’s showers even have those? Because if they did, she had clearly missed out on a lot of good moments by not exclusively using them during her off-time, and would be abusing the everliving daylights out of it going forward. But… no, something was wrong. Right? Something was definitely wrong-right, in that there was something off about the whole sequence of events leading up to Aleksi realizing the water was evaporating more than normal, and yet she still couldn’t find it within herself to care too much about it. Why should she, when she felt so… so alive, so energized, like she could burst out of that shower and go show the world what an impossibly gorgeous amazonian giantess she was, when she could take care of all the pesky wannabe vigilantes by picking them up with one hand and shoving their face into her cleavage until they stopped struggling and embraced their new position as her personal chest warmer? Yes, this would do, this would do just nicely… but there was still so much that had to be done before that was possible; after all, her body wasn’t nearly ready enough for what she wanted to accomplish, nor was it nowhere near the level of perfection required of some like her. It needed refinement, needed moulding, and above all, needed more. So she looked down, towards her bust. In many ways, it was quite respectable: enough to fill a bra that inched close to the second half of the alphabet, which on a frame like hers meant a pair of tits that no one else on the station could compare to… but they could be bigger, they could be softer, they could be more, just always more… so they would be. It felt so simple to just say it, even simpler to do once she relaxed and let all that power welling up inside of her flow towards her extremities; Aleksi didn’t bother questioning where it had come from, because why should she? It was there, it could be used, and clearly it was designed with her in mind, because it moved and warped in exactly the way that she willed it to. Perhaps this is what the wizards felt whenever they wielded magic, this overwhelming sensation of power linked to the inherent ability to reshape reality as they saw fit; part of the lizardess wondered whether this was the result of that spell which she thought had grazed her, but even that more rational side of her had already been compromised by the frankly ridiculous amounts of stimulation flaring up across her whole body. It was a cross between a massage, a full immersion bath and a dozen different manservants groping every inch of her, and it left her feeling divine; not vulnerable, as she was certain an older version of herself might be inclined to feel, but rather powerful, as if this sudden influx of pleasure was an affirmation of the sort of the power she had within herself, bursting at the seams and ready to be put on display for the whole world to see. With a grin, Aleksi unleashed it, letting the energy pool into her bust from within; she practically breathed it there, each exhale allowing her to push just a little bit more of this pseudo-magical power into her bust, and before long it began to grow before her very own eyes. The lizardess’ grin became toothier, her eyes narrowed without quite glazing over yet, her mind sharpened still as she watched her breasts billow outwards; almost without thinking, she moved her hands upwards to cup their underside, both to feel their weight increasing and to see as her fingers were forced to stretch out further and further, how the soft flesh bulged out between them. It was the best she’d ever felt, and honestly, she saw no reason to stop at just a couple of cup sizes; why should she contain herself when the power seemed limitless, when the raging maelstrom of what was clearly magic within her very core apparently replenished itself the more she tapped into it? If anything, it felt like a downright waste not to bring it to its very limit and see just how much it could do; besides, her tits were getting more sensitive the bigger they got, and Aleksi wouldn’t last much longer before both of her hands were busy playing with her ample and growing bust. Her nips especially turned into even bigger hotspots than before, and she was certain that everyone around her quarters heard it when she made the “mistake” of gently squeezing them between her index fingers and thumbs. The moan that erupted from her throat was… exquisite. The process didn’t stop until she was thoroughly satisfied with her new size, and that didn’t happen until the entirety of her chest vanished underneath soft, scaly pudge. A few adjustments here and there, making sure that her bust maintained the most perfect teardrop shape while also being incredibly solid and massive in the most literal way possible, and Aleksi finally found the strength needed to push herself off the wall, which she just then realized she’d been leaning against for some time. She was thankful the shower in her quarters had enough room for her to turn around and appreciate herself, because she looked good: tits covering her torso, their bottom curvature hugging her waistline, big enough that they even had quite a bit of backboob to them; if any observers dared to stare at them from behind the lizardess, they’d be able to see several inches of soft breastflesh just daring them to reach out and touch it, all while their more reasonable sides reminded them that Aleksi was still a seven foot tall amazon… though not for long. Because as she looked down at herself, the one thing on her mind was how she should probably do something about the extra weight on her back; not that she had any real need for it, but now that her ability to mould and reshape her own body was at the forefront of her mind, Aleksi was going to exploit it for as long as she could focus on it. And the longer she stared at her tits, the more she realized that what she needed was some back muscle… and then probably something extra on her glutes, move forward to the abs, arms, honestly just take her already well-toned physique and really dial it up to eleven; not so much that she’d end up looking like a bodybuilder, but enough that anyone watching would know for a fact that the giantess they were looking at hit the gym regularly and could probably strike a punching bag hard enough to send it flying off the chain it hung from. And, just like before, accomplishing this was as easy as just willing it to happen; a stray, errant thought solidified into a more structured desire and seconds later she watched as all extraneous fat, what little there still was on her, burned off and was replaced with lean muscle mass. Admittedly, the difference wasn’t that great, considering the kind of job she performed on a regular basis, but it was nice to smooth out the edges and really give herself the aesthetic she aimed for; it was important to look the part as much as it was to actually perform it properly. But, to that end, there was still something else that had to change, because she was still merely a seven-foot lizardess and that really wasn’t enough. Tits and muscle were one thing, but she could get that done with genetic modification and practice, respectively; she was respectably larger and more threatening, sure, but there was something missing, something special that would really wrap things up and leave her looking like the undisputed ruler of her little fiefdom… and it wasn’t her ass, even if she spent a few moments plumping it up in order to make its size match that of her breasts, maybe a little more given how it helped her balance somewhat. No, if she wanted to truly impose herself upon the universe, then Aleksi needed to be bigger, and not just in the sense that her proportions were more exaggerated, but just larger in general, enough that the ceiling, standing still a couple of feet away, would be so close she could easily bump into it if she didn’t move carefully. To that end, the lizardess figured it’d be best to step out of the shower first; she could already feel the heat rising inside of her, so much so that the water within the pipes was starting to boil before it even had the chance to leave the showerhead. Not that stepping away really did anything, as all it accomplished was creating two burn marks wherever her feet landed, leaving the previously-immaculate linoleum riddled with scorched tracks thanks to the small period of surprise and shock that came with realizing she wasn’t just metaphorically hot. And yet, rather than being alarmed by this, it only served to egg Aleksi on further; there was something about it that made her feel beyond powerful, almost as if she were tapping into a power that wasn’t entirely natural, one that came from a place that was fundamentally different from her reality. Perhaps this had something to do with the flash of red light and the demonic cackling she heard when the wizard’s spell “misfired” and glanced her; perhaps he had tried to summon something and whatever it was decided to try and possess Aleksi, not quite realizing they were biting off far more than they could possibly chew. This explanation amused her, delighted her, and above all, made the most sense to her; of course she had absorbed the full brunt of an attempted otherworldly possession and successfully bent its power in her own favour, that’s just the kind of thing she did, it was the kind of person she was. Anyone trying to step in and tell her what to do would get a master class in just how pointless such an exercise was, demonic or not, and now that she was certain that she had a literally supernatural source of power inside of her, Aleksi let loose. In all respects, the transformation wasn’t that flashy, as all she did was make herself bigger in literally every single way, keeping her proportions much the same but adding inches onto her frame with each second, visibly surging upwards and outwards in order to fill up as much of her living quarters as she feasibly could without having to breach the ceiling; she might be powerful, but the lizardess doubted she could survive the vacuum of space. In the process of doing so, however, a certain few things began to slip out of her control; though aware of it, even if just vaguely, Aleksi chose not to stop, chose instead to continue and chalk this up as just a necessary consequence of her affirming her true power. It only made sense that her might was so overwhelming that her body overflowed with it, even when she did her best to contain it… and if it ended up leaving her even more beautiful and gorgeous and succulent, then who was she to say no to the gifts her own physical form gave her? Besides, the whole demonic aesthetic would look wonderfully complete with those horns she was developing, stretching out from the small nubs she already had on her head until they turned into enormous, razor-sharp spikes protruding backwards from her skull, curving inwards slightly after a while; smaller ones would blossom from near the base of the bigger lengths of bone, creating a series of spiked ridges that rested upon her head in an intricate, crown-like pattern, almost like a physical halo of sorts. They weren’t heavy, and in fact felt as close to weightless as they could be, but a small touch was all Aleksi needed to know that they were capable of cutting through even steel if necessary. Not her scales though; those would be indestructible, untouchable to any but those she deemed worthy enough to service her. And still she kept going, still she kept growing, until even her proportions began to slip free from her, even if just slightly: from her thighs thickening until all space between them was erased and every step would need her to rub those things together, to an ass that could swallow any hand that touched it up to the wrist (if not more), even her tits bulging outwards just enough that they crossed over the waistline and reached over half a foot in backboob on either side. None of this endangered her pristine, athletic physique though; if anything, having to carry a bust that large just made her back muscles that much stronger, and the pillowy ass and soft, inviting thighs worked wonderfully with the obviously well-toned calves she also had on display. Aleksi became a creature of extremes, and as her horns continued to sharpen, her tongue began to bifurcate, even her canines started to lengthen, it was clear that the creature that attempted to inhabit her had to be a succubus of some kind, or at least some sort of demonic being of lust. Poor thing, believing itself capable of subverting such a glorious specimen as herself; now they were little more than fuel for her ascension, the first step in an endless ladder of Aleksi’s self-indulgent ladder to divinity. … a first step. It was such a simple statement to make, and yet the full weight of it didn’t set in until after Aleksi was done, until after she’d grown large enough as to have to bend down slightly in order to fit in her living quarters. She might’ve wrangled a literal demon into serving her, or at least chose to believe that was the case, but there was something about the way she looked that was missing something: specifically, the fact that she wasn’t bigger. It was a strange hunger, to be sure, and one that a small part of her had to wonder whether or not it was even hers to begin with, but as she stared down at her expansive cleavage, back at her rotund butt or around at the powerful body she’d sculpted for herself, the one thing in her mind was the need to be more. Not necessarily more well-proportioned, but just… bigger. To burst free from the confines of her room, take into her hands the many nuisances that had given her headaches over the months she’d spent working at that station and then sap them of as much life force as she could, leaving them barely functional husks while she herself only grew ever more powerful, ever greater. Sure, the company would probably call an MTF on her, presumably Code Lambda or above, but did that even matter anymore? She was hungry, and that hunger was not one that could be easily satisfied… especially not with a body like hers; she was a growing girl, after all. Those unlucky enough to be standing around the lounge outside the crew quarters were given front row seats to the emergence of a brand new goddess when Aleksi plowed through the front wall of her living room, not particularly caring about whether or not she accidentally caused a breach; she needed a higher ceiling in order to stretch her limbs out, and with the sort of body she had, the giantess could take her sweet time in unleashing all of that pent-up tension and it still wouldn’t matter, because no one in their right minds would do anything other than stare at her in slack-jawed awe, their eyes glazing over the longer they gazed upon her magnificence. The whole station quaked with each step she took (or at least the local area… for the moment, of course), her body coursed by shockwaves that created the slightest, most perfect amount of jiggle on her curves each time one of her feet threatened to break through the panelling on the floor. There were a handful of civilians sitting there, staring up at the nearly twelve-foot behemoth looming over them, their mouths as wide open as their eyes, brains barely functioning as they struggled to try and comprehend the beauty and magnificence that they were seeing. It was perfect fodder for the next step, Aleksi thought to herself as she snapped her fingers, effortlessly calling upon all the mass that those onlookers wouldn’t need; so many souls, so eager to be with her, not knowing that they could be if only they remained still and let her siphon their very essence into herself. Already she could feel herself growing bigger, thicker, stronger. Already she could feel the deepening, widening pit growing in her very soul as it demanded more and better nourishment. And suddenly, those little ones looked quite delicious.

In all respects, it was a night just like any other. The summer heat had abated just enough that folks in the café could comfortably sit outside without having to worry about sweating half their body weight during the course of a cup of coffee, the wind had begun to blow in, and with the vast majority of the local populace having decided to hit the shoreline in order to appreciate such a wonderful night, the downtown area was far less crowded than it normally was, providing the absolute best-case scenario for those who just wanted to sit down and enjoy a good drink with their friends. Such was the case with Starry, who had just come home from a shift at her own establishment and promptly called a couple of gal pals to ask if they wanted to have some coffee some place new and entirely devoid of any kind of special gimmick; with the influx of local tourism, it was becoming difficult to find a café that was just a café and nothing else… something that Starry’s own workplace was guilty of, if she was to be quite honest. Really, she couldn’t blame management, not with someone like her on the staff payroll; it wasn’t every day that someone ran into a vixen-taur, let alone one as bountiful and eager about it as her. Others might have balked at the notion of being the principal attraction in what was supposed to be a simple customer service job, but given that the vix had always had issues with maintaining her productivity under control, being asked to become the main source of refreshments in exchange for extra pay was, frankly, a no-brainer as far as Starry was concerned; all she had to do was walk into the backroom, plug herself into the milking machine, and then let it collect all the extra dairy she’d produced since the last time she was drained so it could be repurposed, saving the establishment a pretty penny in milk purchases. This fact was, of course, heavily advertised to everyone who walked inside, and had become the unofficial “hook” for the café: come for the rumours of a triple-stacked (both above and below) vix-taur, stay for the realization that such rumours were not only true, but seriously underplayed how friendly and outgoing said vixen was. Granted, having to listen to heavy sloshing accompanying loud thuds whenever Starry took a step in any direction wasn’t something for everyone, nor was the whole “overladen with milk” aesthetic that she often pushed of her own accord; more than once, Starry had to be reminded that someone had to clean the trail of milk she left behind her whenever she forwent the use of the milking machine for long enough that her nipples began to drag along the floor… but, then again, no one ever forced her to hook herself up, mostly because they were too busy paying attention to a taur-vixen whose undercarriage just barely offered enough room for the six bloated milktanks she was carrying. For Starry, however, even this sort of open debauchery got old after a while, if only because her spine eventually began complaining and forced her to take a break from some of the more extreme stunts she liked to pull; besides, it was entirely possible to have too much of a good thing, and so, on occasion, the vulpine liked to take a break and do something completely different, like having a cup of coffee with friends where the conversation didn’t immediately turn to the topic of tits, milk, or how much of the former they could fit into the latter. This was, unfortunately, far easier said than done, as both friends that Starry called over, a couple of buns by the name of Clara and Samantha, were quite blessed in their own right; not to the same extent as the vixen, obviously, and certainly not with a tauric body, but when one’s bust comprised roughly sixty percent of one’s total body weight, it was difficult not to notice. Still, being so used to living with those sorts of burdens left one with an almost supernatural ability to act as if they were entirely normal, and with the pressure having been alleviated by a quick draining session at home before leaving, Starry was ready to settle in for the night, have a couple of overly pricey cups of ground-up beans, and then adjourn to her domicile to prepare for her day off, where she planned on doing literally nothing but play video games while plugged into her milking pumps all day long. And for a while, that’s exactly what happened, so much so that Starry committed the fatal error of assuming things would carry on being perfectly fine, and that fate wouldn’t conspire with the universe at large to throw a curveball at her; she was so engrossed in discussing a piece of lore from a series the three friends had begun watching, one that wasn’t even especially meaningful, that the vixen didn’t notice the arrival of two very special people. Starry didn’t know them, and neither did Clara or Samantha; unbeknownst to them, the two wolfesses were new to the café, new to the city in fact, and were only there because of a certain biological imperative that all-but commanded them to seek out locations where they might find someone to warm their beds for a single night. For Starry, who spent most of her kind’s mating seasons hidden inside her house trying to think of literally anything other than the heat she was in, the notion that the two newcomers would ever be so brash as to come out in public in those conditions was utterly alien; she herself had such poor impulse control during those times that it was inevitable that she’d end up doing something to embarrass herself, so for someone to just so casually walk into a crowded area when their biology was begging for a breeding was… difficult to parse. Especially, of course, given the reason why Starry could even tell the wolfesses were in heat to begin with, the same one that caused her cheeks to flush red, her body’s temperature to start rising, and the low, almost imperceptible churning coming from her tits to magnify in intensity by tenfold in the matter of moments. Clara and Sam both went wide-eyed when they noticed this, and when they turned their heads to face the only thing that could’ve been responsible for it, the situation just got worse; for Starry’s issue, and the biggest reason why she locked herself indoors during mating season, was that she suffered from an extremely rare condition whose name she could never recall, but which was commonly known as “sympathetic heat”: put simply, whenever next to anyone in heat, her own biological clock would be synchronized and forced to undergo the same process. It was nothing short of miraculous that most furs’ mating cycles happened to coincide, leaving only a few outliers like lupines, but that was only half of the explanation; for the “sympathetic” part didn’t merely stop at Starry herself, as whenever she was affected by the presence of someone else in heat, her body turned into a veritable beacon, a transmitter really, spreading the effects to everyone immediately around her. Thus, her being outside when a large portion of the population was at its horniest would be downright cataclysmic… and yet, at that point, it seemed inevitable, because the only two people that Starry trusted to hold her back had just been infected by the contagious heat spreading from the vixen herself. Sam and Clara had maybe a couple of seconds of clarity before the hormone storm began, at which point their concerned expressions mellowed out and melted into wide, contented, and utterly mindless smiles as their inhibitions flew out the window. They pulled their chairs back and ripped their jeans off, one hand ready to make good use of the suddenly empty space between themselves and their own nethers, the other immediately heading to one of their nipples, hoping to stimulate production. As bunnies, their bodies were uniquely gifted for the sort of thing they suddenly felt like doing, and as a result, it wouldn’t be the first time both of them ended up buried underneath their own tits; this, however, paled in comparison to what Starry could do if allowed to bloat uncontrollably, and without any milking machines next to her, not to mention her own ability to keep herself together slowly crumbling to dust, it seemed all-but inevitable that the world was about to be shown what it was like to have a horned-up vix-taur with nothing holding her back. It started off slowly at first, slow enough that Starry actually had time to complain about being near someone in heat, not that anyone bothered to listen; her two friends had already lost it entirely, and even if the vixen hadn’t issued the declaration between gritted teeth, the amount of noise coming from her busts was such that no one would have heard her anyway. Plenty of attention was being drawn in her direction though, especially from the two women responsible for her predicament; it was hard enough to hide herself even when she was empty, but now that her production had kicked into high gear, it was downright impossible. Even without a drop of milk inside of her, Starry still had to be careful about how and where she walked, as her tauric sets of breasts were still big enough to hang just a few inches off the ground; it was the result of repeated bloatings and drainings, and she liked to joke that she was just slowly “stretching out” over the years. The same could be said for the three rows she also had on her regular chest, which had gone from respectable, if entirely average D-cups all the way to the beachball-sized behemoths they were nowadays. That was, of course, when her tankers were empty, a state that was only achievable after a full-course draining and even then remained as such for a pitifully short amount of time; continuous filling was just something that the vixen had to deal with, and even when she was at her most relaxed, there was always a time limit on how long she could go anywhere before having to cut it short, barring bringing a milking station with her. Though calm and utterly uneventful up until that point, that night hadn’t been any exception, and just as the wolfesses were walking in, Starry’s tits were reaching the first extra foot in diameter purely from her reduced productivity; the effects that heat had on her were… pronounced. Almost instantly, the sets of tits underneath her tauric half slammed into the ground, the pressure placed on her nipples causing a chain reaction that seemed to travel in a shockwave up her taurso, through her torso, and straight out the other groups of buds she had in front of her, pulling on her upper rows as it went along; just as milk erupted from the six milktanks slung out from her chest, so too did their size magnify, gaining in just that one spurt about as much as they had in the whole time the vix-taur had been sitting there chatting with her friends. Thankfully, there was no secondary impact… though, by that point, there was the issue of her lower rows rapidly taking up all the space between her tauric self and the ground, within seconds having pushed the limits to where they were squishing and squeezing around her legs, forcing Starry to make a decision: either try and lodge her quadrupedal limbs in between her cleavages, in the hopes of maybe retaining some mobility, or the universe decided for her and her muscle control completely ceased, leaving her stranded atop a growing bed of tits. Of course it was the second one, how could it ever be anything else? She was in heat now, and with her dairy production rates being what they were, any semblance of mobility had already become a pipe dream by default; better if she just let her legs give in, sinking into the bulging mass of milk-stuffed breastflesh underneath, since at least then she could be comfortable as her body rebelled against her control. Though, given the sort of thoughts going through Starry’s mind at the time, it was doubtful whether such “control” was even there to begin with; much as she “complained” about being near two people in heat, there wasn’t a lot of annoyance left once the happy juice began flowing and her brain was overtaken by the familiar sensations of her body going haywire under the unrelenting onslaught of her poorly-controlled hormones. That, and there was always the metaphysical aspect to worry about; one could never be too safe when one was but a small part of a multiversal collective bent on finding the next member of their group to ascend beyond the boundaries of mere mortality. For the time being, however, Starry was running entirely off her own horny energy, for lack of a better word; she couldn’t bring herself to want to stop, because there wasn’t anything there to want to stop. Whatever semblance of rationality that had once existed inside of her head had been duly chained up, packaged and sent to the other side of the planet, leaving only a rabid beast in its wake, one that desired naught but to experience the fullest extent of what its body could provide, then more, more and always more, until limits were broken almost as easily as the table was once the vix-taur’s tits grew big and heavy enough to snap the plastic in half without her even noticing. Thus it was that the pained teeth-clenching that had accompanied the first stages of Starry’s transformation was itself turned into something far more pleasant, a smile really, one that was wide-open and allowed the vixen’s tongue to loll out just so she could drool as happily as she could muster, all while quietly begging for her body to fill up faster, to grow bigger, to produce more, and a number of other, more deviant things which should probably not be committed to writing. Her nature as a beacon for the sympathetic heat, however, all-but ensured that at some point, someone would take her up on her more extreme offers, but for the time being, Starry only had to worry about her tits… all twelve of them, and just how quickly they were filling to capacity and beyond. Well, she said capacity; truth be told, while the vixen still held firm to the belief that she had an upper limit, she hadn’t found it yet, not even during her wildest moments. She recalled that, even if just once, she allowed herself to bloat so much that the whole building had to be torn down from around her just to get her out, and it still wasn’t enough to make her stop. And now? Now she wanted to make that size look puny. Didn’t take more than a handful of seconds before the very notion of walking was turned into a practical impossibility. Unlike similar scenarios where at least Starry had the time to pick between letting her paws rest on top of or between her busts, that time around the taur-vix had the choice made for her; with her milktanks filling as quickly as they were, all she could do was go limp and allow her tauric limbs to splay out in every direction around her, making it clear just how immense she was becoming when even her legs, fully stretched out, barely reached the halfway point to where her udders began to curve down towards the ground. In fact, the only reason Starry’s upper torso wasn’t tipping over was precisely because her frontal titstack had already grown large enough to rest on the ground in front of her. It was fascinating, just how much those things could bloat when they were also in full flow; a testament to Starry’s productivity, that she could actively leak milk in such high quantities that it was less a stream and more of a fire hydrant and still be capable of growing further. Granted, there was only so much that her nipples could output, even engorged as they were, so given how furiously her tits liked to fill up, it made some sense… plus, it left Starry absolutely insensate once the feeling of being backed-up truly hit her, wiping away whatever mental defenses might have been there and making way for not only the real Starry, the one that lay beneath notice until such a time as they could strike, but also all the others, who watched the proceedings with a smirk on their faces and a spring to their metaphorical step as they waited for the right moment to intervene further. There was their newest sister, and they were going to enjoy themselves ascending her; it was rare that their baseline vulpine biology was altered in such a manner, especially with so many assets to engorge and fill, turning what should have been an already momentous occasion into something even more grandiose. Of course, this instance of Starry was aware of precisely none of this, her brain being slightly more concerned with the twelve overstuffed tits gushing goodness knew how much cream every second, not to mention how everyone around her was succumbing to the infectious heat that she helped spread. If it had only been the two wolfesses, then maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand, but now a feedback loop had begun: the original pair caused a reaction in Starry, who then spread it to those around her, who then proceeded to indulge, thus increasing their own arousal and feeding it back into the vixen, and so forth until everyone in a hundred yard radius from the epicenter of the disaster area could only think about rutting until the day was over and they could walk no longer… except for those who looked at Starry, realized what she offered, and promptly made their way to her; or, more specifically, to her breasts. It was madness to think that any one of them could take what she was providing; just putting their faces in front of any of the veritable fire hoses of cream would be enough to snap their necks from the force alone, but that certainly didn’t stop anyone. Clara and Samantha were the first; though Starry couldn’t see them, owing to the boobwall in front of her, the two buns had been seriously affected not just by the sympathetic heat, but by the fact that they’d been bathing in the taur-vix’s milk for long enough that it wreaked havoc on them. Not that they were going to complain: three rows of milk makers, each one big enough on its own to cover their entire torso, along with some padding on their ass and thighs, leaving them incapable of going through doors without wedging their cheeks in the frame? They might as well have died and gone to heaven, and as soon as they looked at one another, that’s when they realized what they needed: more milk. It was so simple, and their bodies provided the solution as well, as they could simply tip themselves forward and use their many breasts as a makeshift bed, all while opening their mouths wide and unashamedly plugging a nipple each. To them, it was the easiest thing in the world; sure, the backblast was so powerful that they weren’t getting anything more than a fraction of the total output, and even that was enough to bloat their throats into large cylinders and give them both a milk-stuffed gut of almost comical proportions… but this mass was also immediately repurposed into more breastflesh, so they weren’t going to stop either. All it took was some getting used to, and eventually they came into a rhythm, where they’d allow their muscles to relax, and rather than swallowing anything, turned their bodies into veritable blimps to be stuffed on their vixen friend’s natural pressure alone. They happily surrendered control of themselves to her, knowing that in doing so, they would be given the body of their dreams; as did several others, who, while they were working off a much smaller baseline than the two buns, went to work quickly taking care of the other leaks, even if it took them a significantly longer while. All this resulted in Starry being quite unfortunately plugged further than she had been before; rather than having at least some outlet through which to vent her excess production, rather than the whole wide world to flood, now she had to deal with a dozen incredibly pressurized containers. Sure, they were growing, but not nearly enough to deal with the amount of cream inside of her, only leading to a further increase in pressure; it quickly became unbearable, almost painful really, and as a result, something had to be done. As far as the other Starries were aware of, there was only one surefire way of resolving this… or rather, there were plenty, just not many that they were actually willing to give a passing thought to, as everything they did had to be in service of further debauchery; as such, if there was a surplus of milk, and an increase in pressure that threatened to overtake the enjoyable and veer into the realms of the horrid, then clearly the vixen just needed some more vents to work with, and it just so happened that the easiest way of accomplishing this was giving her even more tits to work with! It all happened so quickly that no one present around the taur-vix really noticed until it was too late to (not be able to) do anything about it: from between her busts, from within the four cleavages she sported, emerged brand new sets of milkers, almost as many as she’d had before. Two rows on the top, two rows on the bottom, further taxing an already overspent spine and body as her physical form was forced to stretch slightly just to accommodate; those udders weren’t small things meant to grow into their size, but rather nascent colossi already, as Starry was about to find out. Rather than having at least a few minutes before her eight new breasts were topped up and equalized with the others, they went from non-existent to pushing all her other busts out of the way in under ten seconds, causing such an hormonal whiplash that the vixen could do little but scream as loudly as she could muster, her face redder than ever, her voice cracking midway through what eventually became a howl… one that plenty of people, far more than the small crowd she had around her already, heard and fully understood. The vixen’s status as a beacon was confirmed, and now, more than ever, she was about to receive the true prize she had been waiting for: someone big enough to actually satisfy her. At least she hoped she would; the poor thing had been gushing down below for quite a while at that point, even the pleasure overdrive coming from her tits not being enough to truly bring her to the edge. She needed something else, and to that end, everyone around her must be in heat, if only to improve the odds of her finding someone to help scratch the itch. It certainly didn’t help that eight more milkers meant eight more souls joining the engorged heap of drinkers already attached to her; they had to brave a veritable gauntlet of milk-softened curves and glorshing bellies and boobs to get there, but it didn’t take more than a minute after their emergence before the very things designed to let Starry vent her production were themselves plugged shut. This was, of course, the other Starries’ plan the whole time: give their newest sister a false sense of safety and relief, and then promptly yank it from underneath her the moment she had allowed herself to believe that things might be fine. Not that it mattered much by that point, seeing as the sizes involved were already positively ridiculous, and far too large to ever truly be contained; if the vixen’s production rates weren’t already a problem on their own, her raw size certainly would be, given that her tauric undercarriage’s tits alone had already crossed the street, climbed onto the sidewalk on the other side, and slorshed their way halfway up the apartment blocks opposite the café, the latter of which had already been collapsed after the onslaught of breastflesh utterly demolished the building it was in. With the road thus blocked, anyone that had yet to hear Starry, but was fortunate enough to be headed in her general direction, would have no recourse but to stop their vehicle and get out, at which point they’d want nothing more than to throw themselves at the veritable mountain of milky mammaries burgeoning in every direction that they saw in front of them. The vixen’s body itself had become patently miniscule compared to her assets, it being a miracle that it hadn’t been completely buried underneath them; stuck atop a throne of her own tits, there was so little that Starry could do that it genuinely felt as if the universe was deliberately torturing her, especially with how much her heat had left her in serious need of something, anything to fill her in order to make the horny go away… though, then again, she did have an option or two, even if it wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. Whimpering, the taur-vix pulled her head from the boob it had been stuffed into, raising her hands and staring at them: trembling, shaking, barely capable of holding still, but they would do; they had to, because no one was going to try and climb onto her, not when her breasts were overspilling from rooftops and growing quickly enough that any inch gained for any prospective suitor would mean two more inches bloated, turning any journey into an impossible task by default. Maybe she’d stop swelling eventually, or perhaps she’d keep getting bigger, who knew? Starry certainly didn’t, and she wasn’t going to sit around and wait to find out when she could (very literally) take matters into her own hands. There was a very good reason it took her that long to resort to the proverbial nuclear option, as it was as long as it took for the last line of defense protecting her self-restraint to crumble; it all came down to a little-known fact about her body, one that Starry had gone to great lengths to ensure that no one but herself was aware of. She was rather large by default, yes, so large that it was genuinely inconvenient at times; she was also very productive, enough to qualify as a dairy factory all by herself, this was also a given. What most others assumed, however, was that her growth spurts were actually growth spurts, that the taur-vix was, in fact, gaining mass from seemingly nothing and packing it on herself, only to then drain it via her teats in the form of ludicrous quantities of milk, thus “stretching” her size out further. What no one really knew was that Starry had never once had her tits grow ever since puberty; they filled multiple times before, but certainly nothing more than that, on account of a lesson she had learned a long time before, back when she was still young enough to make mistakes and actually live to regret and learn from them: pleasuring herself had an unfortunate tendency to add cup sizes to her. It was how she became as large as she was before her milkiness helped her along, in fact; going through puberty without acting on the hormonal urges she was besieged by had been hell, but it was better than losing control and turning into a titty monster. While the first instances had been easily discounted as just puberty doing its thing, when she gave in one day and ended up going two cup sizes larger in the matter of a couple of hours, that’s when Starry decided that enough was enough. Fast forward several years, and the vixen had learned that others didn’t provoke the same reaction in her; it was certainly a breath of fresh air, knowing she could get railed without bloating permanently, but it did leave her constantly wondering what it would be like if one day she just… gave in. What if she let herself fill and then gave it a little something extra? What if she’d gone through with what she had planned, that day she filled up a whole building and had to be physically extricated from it? What if, just like what was happening then, she stopped thinking about what might happen and instead focus on the now, on the doing of things that would lead to the consequences she so dreaded? It had been so long since she last pleasured herself that, surely, having all of that extra milk weight would do a number on her, wouldn’t it? No better time than the present to find out, especially when her tits had not only grown to such colossal sizes, but multiplied in number as well. Assuming that her self-improvements carried on from years prior, and stacked on themselves as hard as they had before, she was about to demolish the city, at the bare minimum; assuming her body didn’t pull any tricks on her, the local landscape was about to be bathed in white, a coating thick enough that one could swim in it if they wanted to. Utter madness, but one that Starry was desperate to indulge in and experience; so what if she had turned herself into a living natural disaster? What mattered was that she was horny, and that wasn’t going away without her doing something about it; at her size, the vixen was not going to wait for a macro-level stud to come find her. No, she had to do it herself. And then again. And again. And then a few more times. Then maybe she’d be satisfied.

Ashe's calves were burning from walking so long in soft sand. Her village of Bustdowl sat between a sandy desert and the scab lands at the base of a volcanic mountain range. It had been part of a much more hospitable kingdom, but neighbouring kingdoms grew paranoid of its magical prowess and obliterated it in war long ago. A few villages dotting the ruinous edges of the former land are all that have remained for hundreds of years. Needless to say the location of the village made it difficult to harvest anything from the land, or find any animals to hunt. As a remnant of the kingdom they were not welcome in the neighboring regions. They were stuck trying to make a living from dust. That is why Ashe is heading into the sandy dunes now in spite of the many dangers- she was looking for any remains of an old shrine from the kingdom, to pray for food for her village before the sands swallowed it as well. Her dark skin was hidden under grey robes that seemed far too large for her, but were actually the right size. It needed to be made of very thin material, but it also needed to bury her body completely from the light, and still be loose enough to breath. When she left the village she walked through the fountain to make sure she was as wet as possible for as long as possible, and held a chain of five gourds filled with water over her shoulder. She had only gone through two by the time she seen the temple ruins. It was only partly visible over the sand, but the statue of a well endowed woman holding an apple, sitting on the nearly touching horns of a well endowed cow was on the very top- serving as an unmistakable marker. When Ashe reached the edges she could see down into it as there was never a roof on the main yard of the shrine, the walls bent in just enough to shield it from blowing sands. Ashe slipped down on the far side of the yard because there was stairs connecting several plateaus- the farthest part was the highest up, and the archways in on all three sides were buried far under sand so she couldn't enter at what used to be ground level. The stone reliefs around all the walls told tales of great bounties of fruit, meat, and drink alike being shared here. That was long before the war though- and Ashe wondered if the black grime stuck in the deeper crevices was actually dirt, or ancient bloodstains. In the actual structure she wandered in circles twice before realising. The only rooms were already raided of everything, including tomes and goddess statuettes. The middle area of the structure had no doors accessing it, though she seen an odd ornate section of wall back at the front that could be a door. There was no handles and pushing on it did nothing though. It depicted a relief of the goddess of bounty with arms open as if to embrace, and then three shallow pits. Ashe blushed, realising what the pits looked like, and reluctantly pulled her robe back and opened it completely at the front. She placed her head into the top oblong indentation, and as soon as the curve of her breasts touched the other two, the wall split and opened on its own. Only women were allowed in the core of the shrine as attendants to the goddess. Inside the area was lit by a soft golden light coming from a huge hourglass hanging from the very far roof. The chamber was huge and lined with badly damaged statues, a few huge stone blocks that had fallen loose, and a mat of powder-like sand. The hourglass was suspended by two chains, but one was limp. They attached to either end so which chain was taught would indicate which way the sand flows. More alarming though, the top was nearly drained of sand, and ran down on an eerily detailed model of Ashe's village! As she got closer she was startled terribly by a voice of a woman she had not seen appear! "It has been too long since someone has come here. This lands time was nearly up." "G-goddess of bounty!?" The woman laughed. "I suppose? My name is Urn. I am who this shrine was built to contain, but I am no God. I am a genie." Urn wore no clothing really, but was well adorned all over with intricate and delicate looking golden jewelry set with leaf shaped emeralds, fruit shaped rubies, and droplet shaped sapphires and opal, with translucent cloth webbed between. "Please, can you save my village? We have water- it is driven up from the volcanic activity nearby, but the ground is parched and dead...water just drains through it, we cannot harvest barely anything. And lack of plant life means very few animals to hunt..." Urn only half nodded, pacing a bit in place enough for Ashe to notice she left no footprints in the sand. "I can return food to your village and the land. It will take time for the land to recover though...a LOT of time. Are you prepared to sacrifice anything for your village though? My power can do nothing without your sacrifice, otherwise I would have done it eons ago." Ashe nodded quickly. She could easily have died on the way here- if it meant saving everyone else, how could she not put her life on the line? She closed her eyes, waiting for Urn to strike her down but yelped in surprise as the sudden tingle in her nipples. She opened her eyes again, clutching her arms over her breasts in confusion. Her nipples became rock hard, tingling as they stretched larger than ever before! Her modest bust started to plumpen as well, filled with warmth and a pleasurable feeling that caused her nethers to pulse in time with it. Her breasts outgrew her hands almost instantly, and became more bouncy and less jiggly. They were firming up, and she started to feel a tightening outward pressure. Ashe grunted from the pleasure and pressure as beads of white started to form around her fat nipples! "What is happening!?" "I am using you as a conduit for my power. Abundance!". URB reached around from behind Ashe and heft one of her breasts. "You wish to feed the people, yes? You will produce nutrition endlessly, which will restore the land and its people!" Beside them the chains holding the hourglass shifted, turning it upsidedown, draining sand from Bustdowl village. Ashe's breasts were getting quite heavy and big enough that they eclipsed most of her torso already. She had to bend forward and brace her hands on her knees, letting her huge breasts hang off her like udders! "T-this isn't how....I...aah!" Her nipples sprayed out a bit from a surge of pressure. "Why can't you use your own body!?" "Do you know how a genie gets its powers?" "I don't...born with it?" "No, Djinn are born with their powers, not Genie." Urn pointed to a mostly buried human skull in the back corner. "I have been dead for thousands of years. I don't have a body. My power is what used to be my own life force, concentrated into a new purpose, killing me in the process. I had attendants that served me before as vessels but they were butchered in the war. Without any female hosts my power has been useless...till you arrived." Ashes cried out again from unwanted pleasure. Bent over like this, her breasts were taking so much space they were starting to grow into her face. Her nipples and areola were growing too, now each nipple alone as fat around as a large coin! She was dribbling milk uncontrollably into the silken soft sand in the chamber. Her legs started to buckle and Urb gently grabbed her breasts from behind to hold them up enough to guide her over to a stand and ease her down. The stone stand pressed against her front, cupping her bloated boobs at the base, holding them off her body slightly for comfort. This is where past avatars sat as well. Ashe was trying to resist the unwanted pleasure, but doing so was also holding back the magic and causing it to drag out longer than necessary. Telling herself once again this was for the village....no matter how embarrassing. Ashe willed herself to relax as much as possible and the growth sped up accordingly. Kneeled her breasts were taller than she was now! She gripped the warm rubbery wall of flesh and moaned in pleasure, letting down her guard. Ashe knew she wouldn't be going anywhere from now on, when she realised the huge bowl-like indentations were not to collect milk in- it was for her breasts to sit in! Milk ran down reservoirs like small rivers, running along walls and forming patterns through floors, veining out through the entire temple. Wherever a pathway drained into the ground, the sand compacted and revived, becoming soil. The ancient bones of tree roots and withered seed husks in the ground came back to life as small plants and trees alike erupted from the ground like green fireworks! The temple yard became a verdant paradise in under half an hour. Very slowly the sand around the temple started to compact and live again, as Urn's power slowly seeped out into the rest of the land. On the back wall two gigantic areola stuck out with tree-stump sized nipples perpetually spurting streams of rich sweet milk. On the other side of the wall, two breasts took up almost the entire chamber! At the apex, Ashe sat marveling at the gigantic masses that had grown from her. Urn sat onto of them, patting and gently rubbing the tender skin as both Ashe and Urn watched the sand in the hourglass drain out of Bustdowl village.

It had been a troubling week for Vance, a man in his early thirties. He had been having an erotic adventure with his girlfriend in a shady part of town early this week, but things went weird quickly. The things that happened were beyond his explaining, and resulted in his girlfriend Peggy vanishing. He had passed the events off as a weird dream at first, but when the police showed up at his house two days later trying to figure out where Peggy went, he realized it must have been real. Unfortunately the whole event had been too bizarre to actually tell the police- no one would believe him! But now in the tail end of the week he was starting to go a little nuts, he needed to prove to himself that it was real! So he gathered some of Peggy's friends that he also knew, and convinced them with as vague as possible information that he could show them where she went. It was a bit of a stretch, but he had one idea. Vance had gotten fired from his job a week and a half ago after a heated debate. To spite his former place of employment and a source of adventure, he took Peggy into the warehouse to make out. All of the chaos started when they were there in the empty warehouse. While no other living person was witness to the event, since it was relatively recent, the security office may still have camera recording of it. Normally the three girls he gathered would have laughed him off as a poorly executed prankster when he mentioned magical forces and spells, but Peggy's vanishing was unusual enough to at least allow them to humor Vance. First was Naga, a tiny sprite of a woman, straight black hair to her shoulders and eyes a cold blue, like full moons bordered by her night black hair. She was a real sour one on the best of days making up for her lack of size and bust with her viciousness, so it was a surprise she was so easy to convince. Sahara was the hardest to convince, though she was a very serious woman so he should have seen it coming. She had almond shaped hazel eyes, a bust that was a good handful, and wildly curly earth brown hair barely tamed into a pony tail. The third girl is Alamia, a soft spoken but frisky woman with an impressive bust, long straight blood red hair and forest green eyes. Vance himself had short bristly black hair and beard and deep brown eyes. Thanks to Vance they were able to slip into the empty warehouse without any trouble, though the security was pretty terrible to begin with. Both Alamia and Naga seemed oddly eager to do this operation, making Vance think they had other motives but as long as they helped out he didn't care what else they attempted. Vance brought them to the area it happened but seen no traces of anything being off. He then brought them deeper into the building to the security office and started fiddling around with the equipment trying to see if his romp was caught on camera, he did originally intend for it to be, and if they reviewed the tape already the police would be all over the place investigating the strange event. They all quickly gathered around the monitor at a enthusiastic outburst from Vance indicating he found what he needed. On the recording Vance and Peggy dashed into the main room, carelessly tumbling around boxes, kissing, and Peggy giggling like a school girl. Unseen by them both were a few faint runes of dim light drifting and shifting in the air. Vance started to casually undress Peggy while she continued to assault him with playful kisses, clearly in not as much of a rush to get to the hard action as he was. Vance managed to unbutton her entire shirt and get it off, and took her skirt down easily but she stepped back preventing him from going farther. "Oh come on babe, don't be a tease...again." She just giggled and started to sway her hips for him, hooking a thumb under the band of her pink lace panties. She had a perfect round butt with robust thighs in spite of the rest of her figure looking quite lean. She pulled the panties down just enough to show him her treasure trail before snapping them back up and turning to waggle her tush at him. Vance enjoyed the appetizer but still wanted to get to the main meal. "Come on girl, get those meaty little hams over here, you are giving me blue balls here." He flinched suddenly and gave out a moan. Peggy immediately looked upset, asking if he ejaculated prematurely from her display, but he said no, sounding a bit puzzled. Still having a frustrated look on her face she moved onto her knees and unzipped him as he sat on a crate. She was expecting wet underpants but her expression softened immediately when she seen the unfamiliarly large bulge in them. She quickly yanked the under ware down as well to behold his balls, which were twice the size they normally were! She gently poked one, seeing the scrotum had also expanded with them so they were not tight, though Vance felt like they were. Was she literally giving him blue balls? She thought that was just a saying, and they didn't look discolored. A moment after hefting one of the meaty eggs in her hand they both gave a throb and Vance groaned again as they increased in size and weight. Vance once again begged for her to sit on his rod instead of prodding around it but she was too bewildered and amused by the growing nuts. They grew in small surges, but were linked to his arousal so did not appear to have any visible pattern to it. With each growth Vance felt a greater and greater need for release and swelling pressure. He got desperate and tried to grab his shaft and masturbate but Peggy was quick to grab his hands and hold them back. Peggy was too interested in seeing how big they could get. They started to outgrow the scrotum, slowly getting tighter as it expanded, eventually pulling the wrinkles out of the scrotum, filling it till it was entirely smooth and seemed to stop their growth- likely due to the lack of space. Since the growth leveled off she had no reason to hold him back, and cupped both balls and wrapped her lips around his shaft. She easily took his entire length to his balls, popping her tongue out to lick them on her downstrokes. Due to the immense pressure built up in him, Vance did not last long. Peggy was expecting a powerful blast because of the expansion but wasn't expecting it to be consistent- the first stream alone was a full two seconds before it gave a heaving pulse and started the next stream. She started to swallow simply because she didn't have enough time to think it over. Between the first two streams she got enough of a respite that her taste buds identified that it wasn't cum at all- it was liquid marshmallow! Sweet, warm, thick marshmallow goo! She gently squeezed and rolled his oversized softballs in her hands trying to coax even more of the delicious substance out of him. Vance was overloaded with pleasure and needed a breather but after a full minute he was starting to worry. His balls were sure enough slowly shrinking but the rate they were reducing in size and the amount of marshmallow he was putting out did not match up at all. He made some weak attempts to push her off but she continued to milk him, her tongue tracing every contour of his shaft and her swallowing creating suction. Vance thought he was seeing things at first, but when her panties started to cut deeper and deeper into her meaty thighs he realized she was growing. He was shrinking down but the marshmallow mass was causing her to plump up rapidly. The clasp on her bra burst apart first and her breasts launched the garment onto the floor before wobbling wildly about under her. Her already big hip and thighs started to look gigantic on her. Vance had to once again blink twice to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him when her tailbone seemed to lengthen just above the massive spheres of her butt cheeks. When the small growing tail folded over and took on a spiralling shape he immediately recognised what was happening to her. Her ears started to grow and become pointed, and she shrank slightly but did not reduce in weight. Her fingers and toes started to become so plump that they merged together, her fused nails thickened and her hands and feet became the trotters of a sow. As her torso thickened it lost its shape and she squirmed as several more sets of teats erected out from her skin all the way down her underside. Her plump face started to push outward as she finally released his cock as the flow stopped. Vance's balls were finally back to their normal size, but he was so bewildered by Peggy's transformation that he hardly noticed. Peggy did not seem aware of her own changes surprisingly, even when she tried to speak and it was virtually indistinguishable from oinks. She tried a few more times to speak and two tiny tusks formed just out of her lower lips. Her face pushed out more as her nose became upturned into a pig snout and oinks and snorts became the only sound she could make. Her eyes were the last thing to change, and once she was completely transformed she started to wander a bit, sniffing things and quietly oinking. Watching the video, the others were very surprised at what they seen but Vance was more eager to see what happened next. He had no recollection of what happened between then and the morning the next day when he was back home, which is why he had been convinced it was a weird dream till the police became involved. A voice without a source seemed to emanate around him in the video, saying that he would be excellent bait to fish up 'more toys'. Vance then stood up in the video with a blank look on his face and the video feed went to static- the rest of the recording was scrambled and unreadable. Vance tilted his head. "Bait? What does that mean?" They were all startled by the sound of several doors closing at once, followed by the sound of clicking locks! Whatever was here to turn Peggy into a piggy was still around, and sealed all the doors a lot better than the actual warehouse owner did. There was several minutes of panic before Vance rallied them together with a plan. Vance used to work here so he knew all the loopholes in its security- of which there was many, and hopefully some the magic source was not aware of to block. He assigned them all a location to go to and check, and a location to return to after, hopefully at least one of them finds an open path. Naga only pretended to look for a way out and quickly turned to go deeper into the facility. The warehouse was attached to the main facility but the way in was sealed off and she couldn't go deeper than that. She turned around at the door she failed to open and let out a quick, sharp squeal of surprise when she came face to face with Alamia. Alamia quickly put her index to her lips in a gesture of hushing. "What are you doing here?" Naga squirmed, not wanting to say, but not having any legible excuses either. "Looking for the source of that voice. Someone is using some real-life magic and I want some!" Alamia smiled, placing a hand on her hip. "Go figure, I was trying to do the same thing. Whatever is behind it is powerful, and clever enough to not get caught, or this would be all over the news. Maybe if we team up we can make them an offer they can't refuse. Couple of attractive ladies like us, who is going to turn that down?" Naga blushed a bit, but nodded enthusiastically. "Yea!" The same voice from the video spoke up again, again coming from no source but resonating from everything. "An offering of supple female flesh? My that does sound tempting." The source of the voice became clear quickly enough when a small figure emerged from the shadows. At first they thought it was a girl, but his small uncut bits between his legs revealed he was just a small, feminine boy. He also wasn't entirely human- his legs were ungulate and covered in intensely curly black fur, as well as his pubes being the same, around his forearms, and the hair on his head was the same as well forming a black wooly mat to his back. His ears were leaf shaped and he had small rams horns and a small poofy tail- he was a black sheep boy! He looked like a little boy anyway- his behavior and previously displayed power seemed to imply he was older than he looked. He smiled at their reaction to him, it was obvious they did not know how to react to such a thing and had sort of frozen up. "Well? You said we were going to have some fun? If you to put on a good enough show, I promise to give you something really nice with my powers after!" They approached him, but still looked like they were not entirely sure where they should be taking this. The sheep knew just what he wanted however, and grabbed them both by the butts- which was as far up as he could reach anyway- and pulled them together. He dragged his hands down their thighs and wherever his hands touched he left bare skin- his touch completely disintegrated their clothes. Once there was enough of their bottoms that the rest fell away, they knelt and let him melt away their tops. The sheep boy placed his hands on their upper chests and ran it down to the bottom of their tops through the valleys of their cleavage. His touch disintegrated the bra as well as the tops, allowing them to pull their arms out and toss them off. He wasted no time in placing a hand firmly on one breast each and sucked a third nipple. He seemed to be guiding them together, so they played along. At first they kissed just to please him, but found out they were good kissers. The sheep boy backed up to enjoy the show as the girls pressed into each other. Their breasts pressed into one another, their stiff nipples warring one another for supremacy. Their tongues explored each others mouths to the sound of their muffled moans. Alamia pushed gently against her to try and get a breather, but her effort was weak and her hand flipped around and slid down Naga's stomach and slipped her fingertips into her soft mound. Neither seemed to notice their tailbones started to grow out at a rather rapid rate. They squirmed against each others bodies and became increasingly flexible while doing it. Soft popping sensations went off occasionally as new vertebrae came into existence. Their bodies became longer and bigger and their tails continued along their own growth, coiling and grinding against one another. The longer and more flexible their bodies became the less they used their arms and legs, which was good because their limbs did not share in the rest of their growth. As their bodies grew their limbs were all but absorbed and their flesh seemed to bubble up slightly as it developed a layer of slick scales. Their body's expansion was a gentle, pleasurable internal pressure that radiated out, was met with resistance, and then moved straight up and down to lengthen their form feeling like a good stretch. As their hips lost definition and rounded their vagina were stretched horizontally causing their anus to be drawn up closer and eventually merge. Naga's scales were a pale blue and cyan on her underside while Alamia's were pure white. Sharp fins started to open down the length of Naga's body, starting with two huge fan like fins where her ears once were, and the skin on Alamia's back seemed to cascade like a small wave forward as she dipped her head. It extended out almost looking like a hood of flesh till she lifted her head up and opened it up fully. It was a huge cobra crest, colored by bright pink and pale orange in a flaming explosion appearance. The edges of it were covered with small flesh thorns. Alamia had turned into a titanic albino cobra and Naga into a sea serpent! They both retained their human eyes however, merely altered with glowing pink iris signifying outside control on their thoughts. They twisted and coiled around each other in a two girl lesbian snake ball, competing aggressively with one another to see who could pleasure the other into submission. Vaginas had been replaced with cloaca, but that only added to the experience, as it felt like getting a rim job and head at the same time when they pushed their noses into the soft opening. The sheep boy nodded to himself, admiring his own work. "Very nice. Something about the slithering, flowing movement of a snake always looked sensual. And as promised I gave you something you would both love- you still have your human intelligence and human voices! I have another treat to, but only one so you two will have to decide which of you gets it..." He waited a few moments but neither seemed to be listening to him at all. "You know you two are serpents not ouroboros, you can stop eating each other for ten seconds..." Sahara stood nervously with Vance waiting for the two women to meet back up with them but were nowhere to be seen. Vance had managed to get one of the shutter doors open enough for them all to escape. They both flinched as the sheep boy appeared and then immediately froze up, not wanting to show their fear. He wandered casually toward them with a timid smile. "Where are you going? The night just started!" Vance took two slow steps back toward the open shutters. "We only came here to see what happened the other night. We seen, so..." The boy stopped, cocking a brow. "And the camera tape your hiding behind your back?" Vance's heart skipped a beat and the boy's smile only widened. "I can't let just anyone know about me! You will have to leave the tape here." Vance wore the most serious face he could manage past his nerves. "Then we will need Peggy back to normal. I will give you the tape for Peggy- a trade." The boy let out a long sigh, his smile fading away. "Well, see, there is a problem with that. You can't magic up knowledge and personality from thin air, so if I turned her into a human, she would still have the mind of a pig. You may want her to be human but a pig wouldn't much care for being turned into a woman." "...then no dice!" Vance spun on his heels and bolted out of the building with the tape in hand, hoping Sahara would be able to keep up but she was just as off guard as the boy. The boy made no effort in giving chase, but raised his hand to emphasize a finger snap. The second the snap sounded out, Vance's clothes exploded off him in a cloud of colored vapor. His shoes vanishing suddenly destroyed his balance and he tumbled immediately to the ground, dropping the tape on impact. Sahara didn't know what to do about it, but after seeing the video before she couldn't help but take advantage of the rear-view of his balls. Vance got up slowly and carefully as he had skuffed off several patches of skin in his quick tumble, but he did not need to get fully up before he realized from the corner of his eyes that he was surrounded. Before anyone could react, Alamia ripped him off the ground in her maw ready to devour him. Naga quickly slithered out as well, looking at her and the flailing upper body of Vance sticking out of her mouth still. Alamia was savoring the amusement of playing with his comparatively tiny cock and balls with her long forked tongue. Naga was not as patient and clamped down on his upper half, going lip to serpentine lip with Alamia- half of Vance flailing around in a panic in either mouth. Neither bit hard enough to crush him and neither had the teeth to chew him- whichever one won this dispute would swallow him whole, kicking and screaming. Vance could still breath the air Naga was so he wasn't suffocating but that wouldn't matter for long anyway. They tugged him back and forth, staring each other in the eyes looking for a sign of forfeit. The soft flesh of the insides of their mouths slid over his nude body covering him in their saliva as they drooled in anticipation. After several long moments Naga released him, giving up because Alamia found him first. Vance was only able to let out a short scream before Alamia bucked her head back, opened her mouth, and then swung forward forcing him deep into her mouth before it snapped shut. His vague outline could still be seen sliding farther down her long body, but the soft fleshy confines became too tight around him to do much more than squirm, and Alamia did not seem bothered at all by that. Sahara ran, going deeper into the building since the serpent girls now blocked the shutters. She hid for quite some time, her heart pounding in the back of her throat in panic. It must have been fifteen minutes before she slowly came out of hiding, making sure no one was near. There was no sounds or sign that any of the others were still there- maybe they had given up on her since they had the recording and Sahara had no way to prove any of this. She did not want to try her luck with the main shutters so she started to look for another way. She found an exit up on the catwalks above- a fire escape! She only seen one way up though, and it was a retractable ladder that was currently up and sort-of locked. The padlock on it was through the loop but not closed, though it was beyond her reach. Sahara did a bit of searching and managed to come up with a broomstick she used to jab at the lock from below and managed to knock it out but the ladder itself could not be pulled down with it. It was frustratingly low but still beyond her grasp. An empty milk crate would have been enough but the only crates she could see were huge wooden boxes. She cursed under her breath, wishing she was just a bit taller. She tried stretching out her arms as far as they could, then went on her tip toes which was easier than she thought it would be, and eventually resorted to hopping up. After a few tries she actually touched it, but just barely. When she tried again she did it again easily. Closing her eyes she concentrated, letting her leg muscles relax a moment from her last try- they felt mildly tingly. She opened her eyes again determined to make the jump this time and realized the lowest rung of the ladder was level with her nose. She was twice as tall as she should be! Both her arms and legs were ridiculously narrow and long compared to the rest of her and it wasn't stopping. She quickly looked around as her neck sounded out gentle pops to lengthen as well, and sure enough she spotted the sheep boy smiling on the side of a crate, swinging his legs playfully. "Well I hope you are proud of yourself. Why would you do this to us?" She was oddly calm now- knowing she couldn't escape anyway at this point. The boy shrugged. "Because I can, and humans are rather dull- there is so many already, why not diversify the population, right? Besides, Naga and Alamia were plotting behind your backs to gain some of my power- I just turned those two snakes in the grass into what they truly were. And Peggy...I mean come on, a piggy named Peggy? I wasn't going to miss that opportunity. Vance...well, he's not going to ad-vance any further. You, I do recall wished you were a bit taller so you could reach that ladder, no? Well I am pretty sure that won't be a problem now." "Geese thanks. So generous. Except now I have no reason to leave." The boy huffed a half-laugh. "Are you sure about that? I don't know about you but I would have a very hard time trying to fit an entire giraffe in here." Sahara had a brief panic over that- she had no idea what she was turning into since no animalistic features were showing yet. There was no way an adult giraffe would fit in even this warehouses high roof. She would be trapped and need to be cut out of the building to move again! She tried to climb the ladder but it was tremendously awkward with such long limbs. Her clothing was quickly tightening to her body as it expanded and started to lose its human shape. Two round bumps formed on the top of her head that would become the giraffes' sort-of horns. She became so tall the ladder started to look pointless. Using the quite solid muscles of her greatly expanded thighs she jumped halfway up and easily reached the catwalk with her arms to pull herself up- though the tension in her muscles split her clothing apart in several places and snapped her bra clasp right off. Her neck was growing the fastest now and she had to really scrunch her body up as much as possible to fit out of the emergency exit, and was glad it didn't automatically trigger a fire alarm. The last thing she needed now was to have other people witness her transformation. The arch of her foot had long outpaced the rest of her legs' growth and now her toes clumped as the nails expanded and joined into a hoof. There was no way she could climb down the fire escape in her current state but was able to just jump down onto the street. By the time she hit the pavement her fingernails had bulked up enough into proto-hooves that they absorbed the impact. The cool night air caused her ears to twitch and flick, becoming leaf-shaped, and her nostrils expanded greatly to take it in. Her tongue expanded faster than her mouth, extending out some distance as it turned a deep indigo in color. Her arms were too big and heavy for her to remain upright, even in a slouch and she was forced down on all fours. Only a moment after all four limbs were on the ground, her lower back and hip joints cracked into new positions preventing any other posture, and her shoulder blades gently slid into their new alignment. About the same time her joints relocated, her clothes finally gave up the ghost and burst apart, sluffing off her much larger form. She grew the giraffe's small tasseled tail and her hair extended down her neck rapidly in a stripe of unusually long and soft giraffe mane. All over her body all at once her dense but fine fur started to grow in evenly, causing the giraffe's unique pattern to fade into existence over her hide, and her nipples vanished into the rest of her skin as a pair of ebon teats popped out between her legs to take over their role. Her face now grew with her neck, and the stretching sensation made her actually stretch out, trying to speed through the odd feeling on reflex. When all was said and done a bottom-heavy sow encountered and watched two huge serpents making out below an open warehouse hanger while a cow giraffe let's out a long sigh of defeat. That made Sahara think though- why could she still think? Peggy was 100% pig inside and out, why did Sahara retain her human mind? She tried to speak but was unable to- she made sounds but only she could hear them since giraffes' voices are subsonic and inaudible to most. The other frustrating thing was since she had a human mind, she couldn't understand her own voice, or other giraffe so she might as well be mute. She turned to look at her lower half and flexed her legs in discomfort- her panties were horrendously stretched but even in her titanic muscular ass, they refused to rip off like the rest had. It was then the sheep boy appeared standing on the big butt. "I know, right? Now you got me wondering how a giraffe would look in lingerie. If I turned your mind bestial you wouldn't have the grace required to ware it properly, so." He tapped his own tiny hoof onto the garment and they changed from plain white to black lace, adapting to her new form and covered around her tail, having a small hole for it to go through. Black lace stockings appeared around her legs, while letting the hooves through and bound around the top with royal purple ribbon. Since her mane was unusually long and soft for such a creature, he waved his arm up at her neck and gently bound the mane at ten different points in black ribbon, and with a downward sweep bound the ribbon into bows with a pink sapphire each. He placed another such bow on the tassel of her tail before teleporting himself to the ground to take it all in at once. He nodded in approval. "Looking good, stretch. If you can't get a career in basketball you should look into modeling. Well I gotta go. You might want to move the sow somewhere else before you leave- if those snakes ever stop eating themselves they might get an appetite for ham." And with that he was gone. Sahara thought long and hard on her situation. She wasn't THAT bad off- she had her health and the fact she had human thoughts and clothing, she would stand out and try to work out some communication method with someone to try and expose the boy, or at least adapt as human a lifestyle as she could manage in her current state. After a while of just standing there trying to decide on her next move she went toward the open hanger door to get to Peggy but stopped when she heard two loud hisses. The two serpent girls quickly slithered out and vanished into the shadows and a cloaked man stepped out just after them. He took one long look at Sahara before giving a slight nod. "I know you can understand me. My name is Duke Mathews, I believe I can fix this."

No one told him that being a god would be easy, but he still felt like he got the short end of the stick when it came to housing. Surely, at some point, one among their “greaters” would have looked down at them and realized that their allotted abode was much too small for their current size… though, to be fair, both him and his mate had been significantly smaller when they first moved in, with his better half being wholly responsible for neither of them really fitting in there anymore. It was for this reason that Tarn was so surprised when he walked through the door and didn’t feel the familiar sense of pressure that usually came with attempting to squeeze through the dimensional distortions put in place to house them, but rather a liberating sense of space, like he’d just woken up from a perfectly-rested night and stretched his limbs out in every direction. The Obstagoon had maybe half a second to appreciate this before something big, fuzzy and extremely squishy hit him at high velocity, all-but toppling him over at the same time as the air was filled with a high-pitched squeal. Suddenly, he was being assaulted from every direction by the most grope-happy Glaceon this side of the pantheon’s universal barrier, a Glaceon who was so excited about something that her whole body seemed to exude raw energy, so much so that she was literally glowing as she snugged against his colossal body. He could’ve done something about it, but doing so would end up being a fool’s errand, because Zera was not herself that day; Zera was a lot bigger. Not that she hadn’t been large before, but there was a certain amount of scale at play there; neither of them were anything like their “betters” in the pantheon, and even Tarn’s own growth had been exclusively the result of his mate’s actions, who in turn had to abide by the restrictions imposed on the both of them by the rest of the gods they were supposedly peers with. The hierarchy was kept and maintained rigidly though; it didn’t matter how much power one happened to wield or what one was even capable of if one didn’t also go through the long, tedious process of being promoted through the ranks via some asinine trial or bureaucratic request that ended up meaning nothing at all. Zera herself had been trying to get something done about that for (literal) ages, and seeing how much larger she was compared to her usual self, it was clear to the Obstagoon god-consort that she’d managed to do… probably something of worth regarding it. Only after the tackle-hug abated could he get a good look at what he was dealing with; the Glaceon’s body was still recognizable, even if its proportions had been seriously affected, clearly a sign that it had a heaping number of limitations removed from it. Not only had Zera grown herself to upwards of twenty feet, or at least the closest equivalent in that oddly-distorted realm the two inhabited, but her assets were engorged to such an egregious extent that the only reason she could move at all was because of her divine powers; no one else would be able to handle a bust so large that it easily dragged on the ground even when she stood up, or a pair of asscheeks of dimensions so exaggerated that it was a wonder she wasn’t pinned down by them after throwing herself and her hubby down onto the ground. Then again, this was Zera he was talking about; if she set her mind to something, it would be done. This was made blatantly clear by just how easily the two of them returned to a standing position, given the sheer size disparity that was now evident between them; the Glaceon’s assets weren’t the only thing that had been given an upgrade, with the goddess now sporting some enormous paws fully capable of enveloping her mate all on their own (and indeed, were the main reason he was so easily pushed to the floor), in addition to a great number of extra ribbons descending from her luxurious mane of hair, ones that seemed to shimmer in and out of their level of existence as they swirled around her in impossible ways. There were thousands of them, millions perhaps, and yet there were never more than a handful at any given point, depending on how closely the Obstagoon happened to look; then again, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that his mate was capable of outright abusing the laws of reality for her own benefit, given that he himself existed in his current form. He happened to be mundane once, long ago, back when he was still mortal and not involved with a wonderful young woman who ascended to godhood through sheer determination. He used to be able to fit through doors and walk around places designed for people-sized people, not to mention being capable of engaging in more private activities without having to worry about flood warnings and coating entire lower dimensions in his seed. And most of all, he distinctly recalled a time he could afford to get aroused without a substantial chunk of his local pantheon promptly evacuating the premises in preparation for a disaster scenario that, much to his chagrin, inevitably happened, every single time, precisely because Zera was there to egg him on. Not that he cared, obviously; he wouldn’t trade his new life for anything else in the multiverse, not even when he was reminded of how massively over-endowed he was whenever he bumped into a random object and it was atomized by mere contact with his physical frame. Sure, it made social gatherings a bit awkward when he had to be careful not to pec-check someone several miles away, but such was the price to pay for a body as glorious as his. And a body as glorious as the Glaceon’s, who very much piggybacked off the mutual growth the two were creating for themselves in order to further advance herself up the celestial ladder. For eons she’d been looking for a way to move upwards, and as she very excitedly told him in between a multitude of squeaks and fits of joyous giggling, her overtures towards a promotion had finally been listened to, and her position elevated! Sure, it wasn’t much, and she was still technically on the very bottom rung of the “higher” order of the pantheon of gods, but it was a promotion nonetheless… and one that came with its own set of perks in addition to her being able to let her body loose like she had already: a bigger, wider, more spacious house, better access to the lower dimensions in order to expand her worshipper base, and even an allotment for growth that she could offer to her very own, super-special, hyper-loveable Obstagoon consort who she so desperately wanted to see elevated to an even more perfect physical form. Poor Tarn barely got a second to realize what this meant in practice before he felt that by-then familiar sensation of warmth and pressure building up inside of him, signalling that his body was being “upgraded” in much the same way it had been before; it was hard for him to even begin to consider what might be left to upgrade, but given the sort of mind that Zera had, he was certain she’d find something about him to make bigger, girthier, meatier or any unholy combination of all three. Or something even more; one never knew with her. As it turned out, the Glaceon had decided to go with the classic choice: everything. Why bother picking and choosing what to improve and increase about him when she had the power and authorization to just go with “all of the above” several times over and then let him run wild with the infusion of divine might? She herself was already straining the very room they were in, so why even bother pretending they weren’t outgrowing their abode? Tarn couldn’t really tell, but that rumbling he was hearing wasn’t actually coming from Zera, but rather from the effect she was having on their home, which despite the distortions being put in place to house her physical form, simply lacked the strength to hold onto itself without fraying at the edges. The whole room seemed to tremble and quake simply from the goddess’ mere presence, as if reality itself was being churned away and turned to paste before being reassembled every other second, swimming in front of the Obstagoon’s eyes as he tried to make sense of anything other than the gorgeous beauty in front of him; he was vaguely aware of an aura that permeated everything, as if what he was looking at wasn’t the “real” body, but rather a projection of a place that was too big for him to truly understand; had Zera finally done it? Had she truly transcended and become something so great and unfathomable that even his own inspired mind couldn’t really process it? He certainly hoped that wasn’t the case; after all, that’d mean she had left him behind, and the Zera he knew would never do that. But no, that was definitely the Glaceon in there, very definitely the same one that he’d met all those years prior; it just so happened that she was so giddy about her new powers that she was having some trouble containing them, especially considering that the house was beginning to annoy her with how tiny it felt. Tarn was right in one thing: their domicile was just not big enough to contain her anymore, and even its current distended state was nothing but her own tampering with its dimensions for the sake of making her new station a surprise to her consort. What the Glaceon really wanted to do was break free of her old home, to fulfill those fantasies of becoming a true giantess of a goddess and to let everyone around her know that’s exactly what she was, to let loose the beast within, if only for a few brief moments before returning to her usual self. And now that her mate was there with her, that’s exactly what she was going to do. Injecting power into him meant that some of it would inevitably rebound back to her, and seeing as she was entitled to a baseline that never truly ran out, this meant that Zera could effectively get something out of nothing. It wasn’t something she was supposed to do, nor was it anything other than a major oversight on the part of the pantheon above her, but if they hadn’t fixed it in all the time the system had been in place, then she couldn’t really be faulted for exploring all of her options; that was her logic at least, when she kept pouring more and more of her newly allotted divine power straight into the Obstagoon’s body, all while drawing from the endless wellspring of existence to replace the one she had spent… and absorbing the excess being emanated from her loveable fuzzball of a partner as he began to grow and expand in every direction from the sudden assault on his divine form. Their home was suddenly filled not just by the sounds of sloshing cream and the audible complaints of whatever the construction materials were as they struggled against Zera’s burgeoning power, but now also by the creaking of muscle and groaning of sinew as the goddess’ consort was given the sort of body that he deserved; it was a pity that he didn’t qualify as a god in his own right, or else he might very well have overtaken most of the local pantheon’s fertility deities. Then again, that’s probably why he wasn’t allowed in; the existing gods and goddesses weren’t exactly known for their willingness to abandon their statuses, hence why it took so long before the Glaceon herself was allowed to progress up the ranks, and even then only just barely recognized compared to her true power. But that was about to change. Zera herself didn’t really want to start rocking the boat, but when one was as gifted as she was, not to mention blessed by a companion as absolutely ravishing and perfect as Tarn, it was hard not to push limits by sheer virtue of existing, so that’s exactly what she set out to do. It wasn’t her intention to break rules or ignore the limitations imposed on her by her “superiors”, it was just hard to focus when the Obstagoon in front of her suddenly developed pecs and neck muscle big enough to completely obfuscate his head, leaving her swooning and desperate for a touch. Well, a touch or a few thousand, to be fair. With no one else in the house and the promise of a brand new home should her old one prove “insufficient”, there really wasn’t any reason why Zera couldn’t just… enjoy herself. She had countless new ribbons after all; why not put them to good use by wrapping them all around Tarn’s body, squeezing and squishing at every single inch of his bulging, rippling musculature, taking special care to completely cover the full length of his colossal, body-sized cock and the pair of nuts he sported that had to be dragged behind him for mobility? Those got the deluxe treatment: full coverage and constant kneading as her ribbons worked to deliver a high-precision, high-energy massage designed from the ground up to provide as much possible stimulation within as short a timeframe as possible, purely so it could be extended for hours on end as a means of fueling the Obstagoon’s own ascension; after all, what better way of coaxing his body to grow than to make the hunk feel like he was about to explode from how pent-up he was becoming, then keeping him there for as long as possible while his physical form struggled to keep up with the divine power being pumped into it? It wasn’t so much a science as it was Zera having a lot of kinky fun at reality’s expense, but neither her nor her hubby really cared; what mattered was that the both of them were starting to fill up a room that had been expanded to be able to handle them, and the panelling on the walls, built with materials that were at least supposed to be indestructible, began to crack and shatter as it failed to hold them back. Anyone looking in from outside would be able to tell just where Zera and Tarn were, their forms’ auras perfectly visible even through the bits of the façade that weren’t falling to reveal the interior… and anyone even remotely close to their home, or at least what counted as “close” for those who lived in the pantheon’s higher-dimensional plane, would be able to feel their power as it was magnified far past the point where it was technically allowed to be. Soon enough, the two lovers would burst free from their house, and then things would take a turn for the uncontrollable. Not that that was a bad thing; after all, if there was anyone in that pantheon that’d be more than happy to spread the love and bring everyone with them on their course upwards, it’d have to be Zera. She’d already brought Tarn along, and the only reason she wasn’t using the significant amounts of power allotted to her to help everyone else around them break free of their bonds was that, frankly, many of them didn’t even want to; the Glaceon didn’t really understand why that was, given how good it felt to allow one’s body to be flooded by divine power to the point where it felt ready to burst, but who was she to start passing judgement on others? All Zera could do was hope that her peers would some day understand that there was more to their existence than just enforcing a strict hierarchy upon one another, one that was both entirely artificial and kept in place purely out of a misbegotten, rigid adherence to order that really didn’t help anyone but the ones at the very top. An egalitarian sentiment, to be sure, but the Glaceon was quite certain she wasn’t wrong there, especially with how much “punishment” was doled out in the form of depowering and banishment to the mortal realms for perceived slights and the smallest of transgressions. And she wanted to fix that. She wanted to bring forth her new world so that all those around her could live without worry or concern, without having to look over their shoulders every time they wanted to do anything that might be misconstrued as “wrong” or “incorrect”, living in fear of what their “betters” might do to them if they found them disobeying the natural order that was anything but natural at its very core. She wanted everyone to feel what she felt for Tarn in that exact moment: the raw, unfiltered love and adoration that one could only truly experience for another soul that one understood perfectly and could not do without, stretched to infinity and far beyond it, forever and always. It felt like nothing short of a waste to spend time restricting this when reality had so much untapped power to be used, so much raw energy that could be funnelled into improving everyone’s lives and yet was so jealously kept by the upper echelons of the pantheon… but now that they’d given her the slightest of tastes, effectively just opening a pinprick-sized hole into the veil so that she might drink deeply and greedily, now Zera could work towards giving everyone what she herself had. Of course, such wanton disregard for protocol and basic decency wouldn’t go unnoticed by the other gods, who immediately proceeded to try and stop what was happening from going any further. Unfortunately for them, the Glaceon had accounted for this; her home was still in the “outskirts”, for lack of a better word, of the higher plane where divinities made their home, surrounded on all sides by deities that were, at least as of a couple of hours back, of a lower rank than her. And while titles were meaningless when it came to cutting down a rogue element to size, they did come with a series of perks attached to them; specifically, so much more power to wield that there really was nothing that anyone could do to stop either Zera or Tarn in their ascension towards the center of their higher-dimensional home. Energy was poured into the Obstagoon, who grew and swelled and bloated and expanded until the very air seemed to rumble with the vibrations coming from their burgeoning musculature, and while most of it would remain within his body, a substantial amount would escape back into the aether in an attempt to dissipate into the background fabric of reality… an attempt that would be frustrated by Zera herself harvesting this energy and making good use of it before it escaped from her grasp, adding it to her own body in a way that could only really be described as self-indulgent. It was a bit of a gift to herself; she was going to share the bounty with everyone else after all, so why not have a little bit of fun before doing so? Adding a few more tons to each of her breasts, multiplying the amount of ribbons she had until even the perception filter keeping them hidden began to break down, improving her aura’s strength to the point where she could probably be seen on the other side a mile-thick sheet of lead, all while continuously dumping more and more of this borrowed power straight back into the Obstagoon beneath her, intensifying the physics abuse and multiplying how much energy she was “stealing” from, effectively, nothing. It was a free lunch, and not one that any god around them could do anything to take away after the couple’s house exploded into tiny, shredded bits of whatever it was that made up its construction materials, the clouds of thin powder settling everywhere for a few moments before the two individuals responsible for their existence barrelled over everything around them. It was hard to contain themselves, not when they were enjoying one another’s presence so much; even when Tarn’s body became so engorged that he was having trouble moving his arms around, courtesy of his oversized biceps and raw muscle power making it difficult to execute any motions without shattering large parts of the landscape, it was still nothing short of utter bliss for the two of them. Besides, Zera was more than happy to take the initiative and lead the way when it came to their private time together, and that occasion would be no different in that regard… just in every other. She could feel them in the distance, the very same gods that had granted her access to this new wellspring of divine energy, all of them looking in her general direction as the power spike alerted them to a rogue ascension they all had to do something about. While normally they would go out of their way to mobilize all members of the pantheon to halt it before it could go anywhere, this time it would be different; none of them truly realized just what they were dealing with when it came to Zera, just what sort of impossibly resistant willpower they were marshalling their forces against. This wasn’t some two-bit minor god who happened to be birthed into existence because a planet somewhere all collectively agreed upon their existence, this was a perfectly unassuming Glaceon who made herself into a goddess through sheer grit and determination. It was a case so rare that they didn’t want to accept her at first, but figured that it’d be best to give her some leeway before she did something stupid like physically walk into their hallowed halls and try stealing their power for herself. Not that she’d ever do that… the second part, at least. It demonstrated a profound lack of understanding on the senior deities’ part that they’d ever think Zera would steal anything from anyone, even stuffy old codgers like them, rather than simply trying to make them understand how much better it would be if they just shared some of their power with others. Even now, when she could very well forcefully take everything for her before giving it back, she didn’t want to; it was a matter of personal pride and ethics, and Zera was not about to compromise the latter just because it was somewhat convenient. No, best if she and Tarn simply grew so mighty and powerful that reality itself would be unable to hold them back anymore, which at that point would result in every artificial veil being ripped open and every last bit of power that had been held back from her peers rushing in to bless everything to whatever degree they felt like being blessed. It’d be true freedom, which was only made sweeter by the methods used to get there. Truth be told, much of this was only running on backburner in the very deepest recesses of Zera’s mind, because the Glaceon was too busy having fun with her mate to really put any of her more complex plans into words… or even think about them too much, to be quite honest. They were still there, guiding her every move in ways that defied explanation and common sense, but her body was more or less running on auto-pilot with these vague instructions telling it where to go, seeing as her mind was too concerned with sharing this everlasting moment of intimate love with Tarn to really truly “think” about anything else. Why waste time and brainpower on complex power dynamics when she could put them to better use making the Obstagoon even bigger than before, his muscles rippling and bulging to such a degree that he was becoming a landscape unto himself? It was one thing for her to improve and engorge her own body until she had to start using distortions in order to keep herself in one piece and not scattered across the backdrop of existence, but her better half would suffer no such indignity; he was, after all, not a god like her, but a “mere” ascended mortal who just so happened to be given special passage thanks to the Glaceon’s unique condition. But not anymore. The only thing separating a mortal from godhood was, frankly, a bunch of old coots deciding that the latter was now their state of existence, and even then it was nothing more than the end result of enough divine energy being pumped into one’s body until it began to dissipate into reality at a base level. That’s the state that Zera was at, actually, with her “real” body being more accurately described as an all-permeating universal constant gifted with sentience and a certain degree of control over how it manifested itself. Tarn though, Tarn was physical and very much solid, hence his issues with controlling his own immense might, especially when the two of them got too frisky and flooding happened for several days straight. Now though, now he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore, because that thin trickle of empowering mannah that had been provided for Zera had begun to widen from how much she abused it, the sheer amount of raw, unfiltered power being siphoned from it enough to start tearing dimensional veils, even those that weren’t her own! All around their divine plane, “minor” deities suddenly found themselves growing and bulging out as well, with even some “major” ones discovering it was getting hard to control themselves in maintaining their chosen forms. The natural order was being upended, and all because Zera really, really wanted to share her state of being with her loveable Obstagoon. He wasn’t about to complain though; hell, at that point, Tarn barely had a mind left to complain about anything at all, what with it being monopolized by the onslaught of incomprehensible sensations he lacked the ability to process. He still called for Zera’s name, still begged her for more, unending, unflappable, still pleaded for her to never stop even when part of him believed he was about to pop; and the Glaceon never would stop, not until the giant began to melt into everything. Not literally, of course, but that’s the closest analogy she could think of; rather than exploding and painting the landscape in a gruesome colour, or simply outgrowing everything the good old fashioned way, Tarn instead began to “disappear”, his body seemingly vanishing for a few seconds as it faded away into the currents of reality itself… right before something clicked in his mind and the Obstagoon-shaped pile of muscles willed himself back into reality with the body that he’d just left it in, almost as if nothing happened. But both of them knew better; both of them knew that, despite everyone seeing them as two colossal titans obliterating every structure in the eternal city of the gods on the way to the palace at the very center, the real lovemaking, the real intimacy shared between the two had moved to several dimensional layers above and below, as their true selves stretched that perfect moment for all of eternity, again and again, through countless universes that weren’t their own. It was perfection, it was bliss, and above all, it was fuel. From there, it just wasn’t possible to hold back any longer. The two of them weren’t even trying, obviously, but as soon as their selves were extended throughout existence as two mutually dependent constants, the moment that the Obstagoon’s sense of self was stretched throughout the whole of time, space and every other dimension that mortals yet failed to grasp, was the same one that their fates were entwined and neither Tarn nor Zera could really exist without one another. It was something that other gods refused to do, as it was seen as a sign of weakness, but again, those two knew better; to surrender themselves to one another, to put their very existence in the hands of their partner, their other half, was to enshrine their love as eternal, enduring, everlasting, capable of withstanding anything that reality might throw at it and only grow stronger because of it. It wasn’t weakness, but the greatest of strengths, and they were going to show that to everyone. Power was overwhelming, barriers were broken, laws and rules utterly destroyed as the Glaceon and Obstagoon couple continued to grow, or at least their avatars did. Their true selves occupied more and more of the multiversal harmony of strings that composed meta-existence itself, and soon enough the two would emerge into the interstitial not-space between realities, outside the bridges created by the gods themselves, filling it with more of themselves until all of everything was bathed in their eternal adoration for one another, as opposed to the dreadful emptiness that had been there before. They would continue to grow until even their pseudo-physical selves became too large to exist and they too had to melt back into the fabric of existence as a sort of double-ascension for which no one really had any words to describe. And they would do this again, and again, forevermore and never stopping, until they were satisfied that everyone, every last single soul in the whole of reality and all of its outskirts, felt the same amount of bliss and happiness that the two of them did, intertwined in one another’s arms and unwilling to let go for any reason whatsoever. It would be a new golden age, a paradise so unfathomable that even the “greatest” of the extant gods would be unable to understand it; as they should, seeing as how they too had to broaden their horizons a little bit, get away from their places of comfort and see the ascension of their “lessers” for what it truly was: not an act of rebellion, not hate or spite, but something far better. Love.

A Better Breeder There is darkness, emptiness, a never ending void empty of all sensation. Just a strange tickle in the back of my mind, whispering things, telling me things. Things I don't yet understand. Then there is a pinpoint of light. I know the word, I know many words. Though why this seems odd to me, I don't know why. I feel cold, wet. I'm coughing. The light is bright, hurting my eyes as I open them. Suddenly the room darkens and turns slightly red, and the pain in my eyes is gone. Nictating membranes. I know I have several layers of them and currently have engaged those that block out UV rays and dim bright lights. Soon my eyes adapt to the brightness and it is safe for me to retract them, looking out upon a room, a laboratory of some sort. I'm laying on a round metal plate sheathed in rubber, an indent a few inches in and a protruding ring beyond that. I'm also laying on the floor beyond, metal grating of some sort, allowing the wetness from my body to drip downward and drain away without making a mess. There's a sudden spray of warm water from the ceiling, I cry out in surprise, but soon find myself purring at the luxurious sensation of my fur being gently massaged by the spray, washing the green goo off of me. The tickle in the back of my mind becomes a bit more insistent, but I still don't quite understand what it is trying to tell me. I roll over, pushing myself up. Now the water is coming from below as well as above. I laugh as it tickles my undersides. I lift up my legs and twist my tail, making sure that I'm well cleaned. I rub myself with my hands, scrubbing gently to aid the removal of the goo. My purring grows louder, I find that I rather like this, especially rubbing down between my legs. I hear a sound that I identify as feline laughter, a purring chuckle like my own. That tickles continues to grow stronger, almost annoying in its intensity. I turn to look for the source of the noise, but cannot see through the artificial rain, as it's flowing down over my eyes and blurring my vision. Instinctively I once again blink, and I can see through the rain as clear as day. A pretty long haired feline in a long white coat. She resembles the mental image I have of a long haired tabby, long fluffy fur in a mix of silver and black. Beneath the lab coat is nothing more then a tight black bodysuit that clings to her curves, circular cut outs have been made in the fabric, showing off the fur beneath it on her belly, above her breasts, and down each leg. The sight of her stirs many emotions inside of me, adoration, devotion, love, loyalty, respect, and arousal. I hear that wonderful purring sound again as the water flow ceases and I yelp again, suddenly finding myself being bombarded by warm high speed air currents. Suddenly the tickle is gone, and I'm made aware of everything. I smile, realizing how special and unique I am. Creatures seldom have the capability to not only be able to be conscious at their birth, but actually able to comprehend it. As the blowers turn off I step forward to hug my mistress and my mother, the scientist who created me. She opens her arms and snuggles into my ample chest, my breasts perfectly head level for her. "Gods, you look just perfect!" she says happily, "Now I can only hope that your mind works as good as your body looks." I chuckle as she gives me a command. "Anya, identification and description." she says. I immediately recognize my own name, and recall her own. "I am Anya, project ident BDE21162-X, a prototypical genetically engineered creature created by Cally Baines on the research station Damocles. My purpose is to test a number of prototypical processes and combinations of processes to help create an all purpose artificial life form." My mistress raises a brow, waiting for me to continue. I can't help but blush, the fur on my cheeks fluffing. "As well as to serve as a helper, bodyguard, and playmate to my creator and her associates aboard Damocles Station." My blush dies down as I continue. "I am a union of genetic engineering, cybernetic, and nanite technologies." That explains my full awareness, despite having only perhaps a minute of actual consciousness. It had been programmed into me. Knowledge and personality both. I'm a little awed at my mother's thoroughness and her thoughtfulness as well. I know that most wouldn't bother giving their creations a personality like that of a normal furre, so I'm rather glad for it, even if it means feeling embarrassed when matters of a sexual nature are brought up. Like now, I'm fluffing up again, feeling a little warm, the blood rushing to the surface of my skin. "I am the first of my mistresses projects, created to serve as a base example to study and work off of the aspects indented for use in other more focused projects as well. I am also designed to serve as mother to other projects that follow, as it's less expensive to impregnate me then it is to keep a growth tank running." I say, licking my lips, blushing even more at my desire to be in such a state, filled with growing life, my belly swelling to be all round. My mistress smiles at me. "Go on." she whispers, "Describe yourself, continuing from the current topic." she purrs, snuggling against my soft scaled tummy. Her rough tongue feels so nice on my scales. "I..." I gulp, feeling embarrassed, but knowing that my reactions make my mother happy, I continue. "I am a tauric layout lifeform, quadrupedal land motion with an additional humanoid torso featuring limbs suited strongly for manual dexterity. For ease of maneuverability in all planetary configurations I also have wings, while my forepaws and hindpaws have webbed toes. My tail is very long as well, much like a snake's. It features an expandable vertically aligned fin to aid me in swimming. I lack gills, but my lungs are capable of filtering oxygen from water, as well as several other substances." Mistress senses that I'm trying to avoid the subject. Her silence is deafening, I know what she wants me to say, but I'm too embarrassed to give it voice. I want to continue on with my appearance, about how I'm a mix of dragon and feline, my current coloration like that of a tiger. Though that's changeable given my desire to alter it and the provision of the proper sources of pigmentation. My fur exists over a layer of superdense scales that can interlock tightly and form a nearly impenetrable layer over my internal muscle and organs. The outer two inches of my body are expendable. In a vacuum the pressure differential would activate the scales locking process, cutting off blood flow to the outer portion of my body, preserving that which I need to move and survive. I use blood based resources at a much more efficient level then natural lifeforms, meaning that even without a renewed flow of blood, my outer extremities will still function decently for several minutes. Though when the outer layer dies, I only operate at 45 percent efficiency compared to being in a whole form. That is until the intense radiation of space essentially bakes my outer layer off. Then I improve to 62 percent efficiency. Either way it rather hurts and I'd be best suited to wearing a spacesuit. But I am capable of surviving for a week in the vacuum of space without aid, though I'd only be conscious for the first 4 hours. Then my body shifts over to functioning much like a plant, my inner scales containing chlorophyll and photoreceptors. The process would essentially have me cannibalize my biomass until the point where I only have minimum organs supporting my brain, nestled in a thick ball of scales with my cybernetic aspects tucked inside. At that point technically, I die. My biological aspects shut down and are converted to power the cybernetic memory stores. That sphere is capable of surviving planetfall through most atmospheres, and the nanites and the controlling cybernetic aspect of myself are capable of constructing a miniature hydrogen propulsion engine. Making planetfall on a world with the proper resources, the nanites are capable of rebuilding an identical body and instilling it with the stored copy of my memories. Essentially a twin to myself with my own memories. Though not actually me as I'd have ceased to exist as a life form in any meaningful way, at least in this dimension. Mistress believes in an afterlife, and has programmed me with the same faith-based beliefs that herself and most of her colleagues share. Seeing as how the spirit cannot be measured scientifically, Mistress believes that having ceased existing as a life form, that I will pass over to the next realm. Mistress is also tickling my tummy and urging me onward. The pause in my speech in the past few seconds as I've pondered some of my designs now becoming noticeable. "I... I am equipped with three sets of male-female reproductive organs, as well as having an additional female sex. They mimic my three aspects, feline, dragon, and serpent." My mother purrs happily, licking my belly, slowly moving downward. I moan softly as she takes my maleness in her handpaws, caressing the white furred sheath, as my scales start slightly down and below it on my draconic underbelly. From slightly below the waist up, I am much like her, completely feline, save for a few facial features and my horns. She begins to lick me, my black shaft sliding from its confinement, glinting wetly in the florescent lights of her laboratory. My sexes are independently excitable, I can direct my arousal to any combination of my seven sexes. At the moment I chose to activate my frontal pair. "My foremost sexual organs are situated between my forelegs. They are designed to mimic those of my mistress' species, my maleness being somewhat thin compared to others, covered in tiny spines that... oooh..." I moan as she takes my cock, such a wonderful non-technical term, into her mouth. I have a great deal of data on oral sex, and sex in general, but none of the dry information can prepare me for the actual feel of it. Heavenly, the wet warmth engulfing me. I can't help but move my hands forward, placing them on the sides of her head, rubbing the base of her ears. I know that such a motion is pleasurable in most felinoids. I please her in return for pleasing me. I also know that she will also be pleased by my continuing to describe myself as she sucks me off. Mmm, another wonderful term that I like. I'm beginning to think a little more organically now, rather then the raw logic and data contained in the cybernetic portion of my brain. "That aid in ovulation in females in heat. I... ooh Mistress!" I gasp as she slides two fingers into my dripping wet cunt. A shiver runs through my body at the very thought of that word, so deliciously shameful and naughty. I'm such a bad kitty for even thinking it. I'm beginning to pant, since I don't actually need to breath hard at the moment it's merely a simulation process. It mimics the expected reaction in most furres so that they can interact with me easier. I cry out as my mistress begins to interact with her entire fist, not just her fingers. "M-m-my f-front most sex is capable of accepting objects of at l-least f-fourteen inches in diameter without trigger any p-pain signals." I don't have a skeleton, not exactly. Most of the supporting pieces of my body are made up of a dual state substance that is normally the consistency of cartilage, but hardens when given a sudden force, and softens when exposed to a slow gradual force, like one of mother's egg pods being slowly pushed into me. My tigerish womb can hold three of those, the fourteen inch pods. "I... I'm capable of p-producing both male and female gametes in... mmm... p-purebred version of my three component species, hybrids of the two, or.... oooh... all three in humanoid, tauric, quadrupedal, naga, and wyvernoid forms, with or without wings. I... please Mistress, slower." I beg, I don't want to climax to quickly. I want to savor my first sexual experience. I'm only ten minutes old and already I've being fucked. I love my life. With my meat in her mouth she can only nod, slackening her pace slightly to make up for her lover's inexperience. "Th-thank you." I moan, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Th-that feature makes me able to produce offspring with mammalian, reptilian, avian, and mythalien based creatures." Mythalien being creatures that were genetically engineered by an alien 'seeder' race long, long ago. Those that don't really make any biological sense compared to most. Dragons, gryphons, chimerae, and that sort. Though all are technically compatible and can produce viable offspring, theoretically, it proves somewhat difficult outside one's own species, much less with another class. "A.. as a result I am capable of serving as a mass production breeder for any one of s-several planets." As strange as it may sound, some societies equated number of offspring with social statues, and thus someone like me, who is capable of mothering anywhere from one to four dozen (depending on the species) at a time would be an invaluable asset. My exotic look and my ability to create a variety in the species of my children would similarly be looked upon with favor. Though it's something that I might enjoy doing one day, at present I would much rather stay with my mother, she's such a wonderful cocksucker. Oooh, another delicious, naughty shiver. Mother pulls back, letting my prick escape her lips for a moment. "Cum for me," she says softly. "Cum for your mother, Anya." she tells me. Immediately I'm overcome, the sudden pleasurable pressure inside my body swells to a needful intensity, exploding with a wonderful ripeness that makes me howl. I can do nothing except buck my hips slightly as I experience twin climaxes, from my cock and cunt. Mmm... orgasmic shiver. I open my eyes, looking down to see my mother's beautiful silver and black furred face covered in my whiteness. She slides her hand from me, a sticky popping sound indicating my reluctance to let her go. I wasn't aware that I could orgasm on command. It's noted in my programming that several of my features aren't included in my knowledge, so that I'm delightfully surprised by them. I rather like this surprise. I also rather like the taste of my own juices as I lick my mother's fur clean. My tongue is long and black, feline roughness on a forked, thick draconic shape. I can extend it up to two feet outside my mouth, which is a trait that I know those aboard the station will soon come to love. I make full use of all twenty four inches in cleaning my mistress. She shrugs out of her labcoat, intent on trying other aspects of her creation. I smile as she alters the shape of her nanosuit, exposing her sweet pink netherlips to the air. I roll onto my back, knowing she wants to ride my big draconic dick. Mmm... what wonderful words to describe such beautiful aspects of anatomy. I begin to call to mind the knowledge of my second and largest sexes. She begins to caress me, purring happily as I begin to grow hard once again. "My second set of sexes is designed for size, my cock being large in both length and circumference. My draconic sex is capable of serpentine feats of stretching, allowing me to take almost any male, as well as to engage in other fetishes. For purposes of reproduction, I'm able to successfully carry to term and birth an offspring of my own size and mass, though for the last week of the two month long pregnancy I'll be unable to use my legs for locomotion." I say, knowing that my mother is interested in exploring the 'other fetish' category. As I become fully aroused, my mistress begins to caress herself with my cock's head. I purr happily, she made this part of me the most sensitive. As she rubs the point against her sex she reaches down to gently rub the lower part of the spade-like arrowhead shape common to most dragon cocks. She rubs the places between the main flesh and each side point, drawing a pleasured moan from me. "M-my draconic shaft is designed m-much like that of a f-feline's, the points making it d-difficult for a mate to pull away, and designed to induce ovulation. Th-the size has b-been increased to allow me to p-properly mate quadrupedal creatures somewhat bigger then myself, as well as fulfill the fantasies of several Damocles scientists. My s-semen production has been massively increased as well, again for sexual fulfillment purposes." I say, a large jet of pre soaking my mistress' belly and my own. That had been increased as well. "Oooh! Glad to see that's functional!" my mistress purrs, gasping as she lowers herself onto me. I reach down with my forepaws, which have been designed to also function as hands, though not with the dexterity of my handpaws. I have a wider range of movement then a true quadruped would have, able to caress my mother's breasts. I know she loves the sensation, I've been programmed with the likes and dislikes of all six researchers aboard Damocles. But it still makes me smile to hear my mother's happy moans as I pleasure her. Though psychic abilities are for the most part a mystery to my mother's people, I've been gifted with the most powerful sense of empathy they know how to engineer. I can feel my mother's pleasure, and it amplifies my own. It's another loyalty failsafe. Any attempt to lash out at my mistress would result in feeling far more pain then I caused. I love her attention to detail, even though I know that I would never do such a terrible thing as attempt to harm her. One of the other scientists though, is open season. Within limits. She likes it rough, whips, chains, biting, bondage. I can't wait to be introduced to them all. "Mistress, do you... mmmm... want me to continue to the arrangement of sexes on my tail, or shall I talk about other things?" I ask as she plays with the puddle of goo I've made on her belly. She runs her fingers through it, bringing them to her mouth, licking off the sticky sweetness. She chuckles, her amusement sending a pleasant thrill through my body. "No sweetie, I want you to describe them when I get to them. Talk about your other sexual adaptations." she commands. I don't find it at all strange that she's getting off on this. I also see that there is a scientific need to it, making sure that my data stores on myself are functional and uncorrupted. I don't mind at all, I love talking about myself. I know that I'm a wonderful, beautiful creature. It's a thought that wasn't programmed, and is one of my own. I know the pride I feel from my mother when she looks at me confirms my belief. I'm a dream come true for the scientific team here, and that makes me feel happy. "At present I have one of my mammary node pairs active to simulate a typical female configuration. I have an additional three node pairs on my humanoid torso, as well as four currently inactive node pairs on my underbelly. Given the proper nutrients, I can increase my bust size by approximately 66 percent to achieve my maximum volume, or to activate any of the other node pairs." I say, trying my best to stifle my pleasured moans so that the data is repeated properly. I love my breasts. By this time tomorrow my basketball sized tits could be more like a pair of beach balls, and I could have sixteen of them. Due to the huge variety of mammalian creatures, I've been designed like this to mimic nearly any configuration and size to match the desires of any prospective owner. Though I know that as a prototype I'll never actually be put on the market. Untested as I am, though I eagerly look forward to the tests ahead, making my creator even more proud of me. Having cleaned herself off suitably, my mother begins to pay attention to the cock inside her once again. My files on her indicate that she's the most sexually active member of the crew, and that she knows many techniques. The muscles of her tight tunnel are strong and well trained. She's very tight and she begins to milk me wonderfully. The two of us moan in unison for a moment as I coat her insides with a warm blast of precum. She loves the feeling, and I love that she loves the feeling. I can only imagine what it feels like to bring her to climax as I experience one also. I can't think of anything that could be more lovely. "My physique is also highly malleable, though a reduction in muscle mass, or a shift in appearance via my nanites can occur within the span of several hours, bulking up or taking on a primarily male appearing configuration could take up to several days." I don't expect to ever have to use my any of my alternate settings. Those aboard the station all prefer my current style, it's comparable to a female athlete. I'm well toned, solid muscle. But I'm not disgustingly muscled like the bodybuilders that I have data on on my files. Ick. I can also be lean and lithe, or varying degrees of fat. Technically I can't be overweight, as my metabolism works very efficiently. My cosmetic appearance is maintained by the nanotechnology instructed by the cybernetic portion of my brain. "I am also to make cosmetic changes to my features so that while genetically a mix of feline, dragon, and serpent, I can appear as nearly any species. All of my visible aspects are customizable. With the proper elements to consume, I can color myself any way that my owner finds pleasing. I can also alter my outer covering to be fur, scales, feathers, skin, or any combination thereof." Another feature I don't expect to use for anything more then testing. My current shape and coloration were created and agreed upon by all those who I am to serve. "I'm... mmm... capable of swallowing anything up to my own size and have been equipped with an internal pouch that can serve as an egg incubation chamber, as well as... ooooh... holding and sustaining a creature. I'm also capable of swallowing someone and keeping them asleep indefinitely, taking care of their dietary and excretory needs via specialized tentacles." Hehehe, vore and tentacle sex, more fun fetishes that I've been design to be able to fulfill. My mother moans loudly, arching her back. She designed my egg pouch primarily for herself. The other aspects were ideas the other had to capitalize on the usefulness of such a space. "I'm going to be testing that out when we go to bed tonight, Anya." she says happily, "Are you going to be a nice, comfy bed for Mommy?" she teases. "I hope so Mistress, but if you desire I'll extrude my tentacles and make it unpleasantly lumpy for you." I tease back. She's gifted me with a wonderful sense of humor. I love her so much. "Continue, pet, talk about your upper tail next." she says, reaching down to caress my balls, eagerly awaiting the seed contained inside. "My tailhole has been altered to act much as a reptilian cloaca, providing me with an additional female sex. The upper portion of my tail, as my respiratory and digestive systems are contained in my draconic body and the space is not need, has been altered to serve as an additional womb. Anal sex with me is clean and sanitary. Whereas my frontmost womb is designed for normalcy, and my middle for size, the two contained in my tail are made for speed. I lay eggs. They grow at an accelerated rate, ready to be birth at two weeks instead of two months. They take an additional two weeks to grow inside the egg before they're ready to be born. As a result I can be mated constantly and provide a steady stream of smaller, but quickly growing, offspring." My children are also alterable inside of me. I can set their rate of development to be like my own, using my nanites to make them able to learn at an accelerated rate like myself. They can be functional adults within six months. I can also have them mimic the life cycles of any of my components, or the fathering creature. I can hardly wait to take my part in the creation of the other creatures my mistresses have in mind. "Oooh, ooh Anya, I think I'm gonna... gonna cum long before I get to your tail." my mother moans. "Bring it up here, I want to play with it." I nod and curl my long tail up to where she can reach my rearmost genitals. "Like a serpent I have a hemipenis, twin members side by side originating from the same opening and joined at the base. They're extremely flexible and mobile, almost prehensile. My testes are concealed inside to keep with the visualization of a serpent, as well as serving to make my genital slit almost unnoticeable, so I don't have to cover up my tail in polite company. I... AAAAAH!" Her tongue on one of my tailcocks, the other being jerked off in her handpaws, coupled with the feeling of my massive dragoncock inside of her is overwhelming. I'm a one girl orgy centerpiece just waiting to happen. Oh gods... being pleasured by all six of my mistresses, all of us cumming as one. Oh I want it so bad! "Oh yes Anya! You're so perfect!" my mistress moans. I know she wants something more, so curl my tail up, my pucker on level with her crotch. I must confess, I know I'm not being syntactically correct by referring to my mother as 'she' and 'her' rather then 'shi' and 'hir' as should be befitting a hermaphrodite, but my mother's culture lacks true males, so they consider themselves to be entirely female. Even if they do have dicks. Her nanosuit alters once more according to her will, allowing her maleness to slide free, slide into my tailhole. Unlike myself, my mistress' sexes climax as one. Even though she prefers being mated as a female, she doesn't want to get her fur all messy. Though I'm perfectly willing to lick her clean, she wants the increased pleasure that comes from mating as both male and female at the same time. The sensations have us both breathless, unable to speak. Though with a snakecock halfway down her throat, mother wouldn't be up much for conversation anyway. I feel the sensation of orgasm building within me. Slowly climbing up the mountain of pleasure. Each lick, each stroke, each caress, each thrust pushing me higher and higher up towards wonderful release. I can feel the same sensation in my mother, she has been stewing in her own desire for the past several hours. The sight of my beautiful body arousing her as the nanites finished the connection between my electronic and organic brains. she's been wet and hard and aching for so long, denying herself the pleasure, waiting so long for this moment. The release of her delayed pleasure is incredible. Her twin orgasm melds with my own climaxes. Every muscle in my body tenses for a microsecond, the natural result of orgasm in my body before my cybernetic aspect takes control of motor functions. I am unable to be debilitated by a simple stimulatory climax. A commanded orgasm on the other hand, drives me to my knees. Or it would if my legs bent that way. My mother eagerly slurps down my seed, my second snake-cock covering her breasts with wonderful whiteness. Jet after jet of my nearly scaldingly hot dragoncum fills her womb. She's soon full, and it begins to leak from her, covering the both of us with the result of our lovemaking. My cloaca clenches tightly around her cock, milking her as expertly as she has milked me, my reptilian tunnel hungrily devouring her seed. For a moment I'm disappointed. The amount she gives is so small in comparison to mine. But I banish that thought quickly. I was made to produce an amount of seed to fulfill the desires of sentient beings rather then a naturally evolved reproductive method. We lie there for a few minutes, my mother and I, content to simply snuggle, basking in the wonder of the intense experience we've just shared. I slowly move my tail away, no words pass between us, none are needed. We begin cleaning one another off. She licks her juices and my seed from my draconic cock, I clear the massive amount of cum and pre from her furry belly, thighs, and tail. My skilled tongue brings her several smaller climaxes, while she doesn't bring me any as I've turned my pleasure centers down for the purpose of cleaning, her moans and the secondhand flow of orgasm over me is more then enough of a reward. I use my tail to help her to her feet, and then stand on my own. She climbs onto my back, wrapping her arms around my torso. The positioning of my wing muscles makes for a natural cushion. She snuggles into my backfur, "Gods, Anya, you're amazing." she whispers, our mating having taken a lot out of her. "I'm only as amazing as you created me to be mother." I say happily, extending one of my wings up to scratch behind her ear with the bat-like thumb. "Let's show you off to the other girls quickly. I think I need a nap, and need to test out that wonderful pouch of yours." my mother says, caressing one of my breasts. "Of course, mother." I say, purring happily.

Covert Ops: Cobalt The massive dragoness yawned and stretched beneath the covers, drawing a soft sound of pleasure from her bedmate. Cobalt grinned and ran her taloned fingertips through the hair of one of her trainees. Dubbed Scarlet, she was easily the most talented of the dozen young men and women that were being trained as Master Morgoth's newest soldiers. The huge black dragon had grown paranoid as of late, beginning to see potential conspiracies against him at every corner. He was eager to have a new body constructed for himself, but there was no one he trusted to carry the natal form of it. A lab-grown body had weaknesses, flaws stemming from the nutrient fluids and the machines themselves. He could not merely impregnate one of the Companions, since it was likely that their mods would carry over, and he most certainly wanted no part of being anything like his living sex-toys and trophies. Cobalt herself was out of the question, her womb was being utilized for something to help with the bodyguard project. The sapphire dragoness sighed, hugging the comparatively diminutive Scarlet against herself, a poor substitute for who she really wanted to have against her. Cobalt had been made to be one of a pair, two identical dragonesses, save for color, both of them eagerly serving their master. She knew that Magenta and herself had once had identities aside from Morgoth's twin bodyguards, but as time went on the people they had been had mattered less and less. They had forgotten who they once were, but they knew they had been loyal to Morgoth, and that they had volunteered for what had happened to them. Magenta had given her life to save her master; both had known that their lifespans would likely be short, and that they would end up sacrificing themselves for the sake of Morgoth. But knowing that didn't lessen the loss she felt when she was not otherwise occupied. She gave Scarlet a kiss atop her ebon hair, which would eventually be the primary way to tell her apart from the other 11 Red Guard; Ruby, Crimson, Apple, Cherry, Rose, Maroon, Cerise, Brick, Radish, Foxy, and Blush; all of them differing shades of red. Once they proved themselves to be skilled, they would be granted the proper coloration and be allowed to select the hair color of their new form. "Call your brothers and sisters, I'd like them up and ready for sparring," the dragoness purred to her favorite trainee. Scarlet was the only one of the 12 that had been granted full on coloration. The rest had red scales upon the parts of them that had been transformed, enhanced, or upgraded, but most of them were still sporting their original skin or fur over most of their body. They were all approximately the same age, some male, some female, half were human, and the others were common Furre species. But eventually they would all be identical hermaphrodite dragonesses, and they relished the concept. Her master had purchased them from the Ogari, an interesting race whose core philosophy involved sentient life being sacred, and all efforts were to be taken to preserve it. They were a low grade hive mind, individuals gathered together into mental communities. Ogari Parental Guidance Clinics were a common sight, and their method of birth control was a bit strange, but also rather cheap; fetal transfer into a willing Ogari mother. With their mastery of genetic engineering and teleporter technology it was quite easy. Through with centuries of contact with outside races, the Ogari themselves were rather watered down as a species. Ogari seemed to become more of a philosophy or a way of life with each passing decade; though they all shared the minor telepathic capabilities. A pregnant female was the ideal of beauty to the Ogari, being filled with life was an ideal for each of them. Sexuality mattered little to them, and it amused Cobalt that Ogari males tended greatly towards being 'bottoms,' since it was regarded as being more feminine. Scarlet had been the most sexually submissive male out of the dozen, and she was quite proud of being the first Red Guard to start having her gender shifted towards the ideal template. Being of many different races made things more complex and difficult for the Ogari, but in recent years they'd taken to a uniform education process and mental alteration using technologies from other races. Taking care of the community was what mattered to them. Though physically different, each new Ogari began life with essentially the same upbringing and education as all the others in their particular mental community. As a result some less scrupulous communities would, on occasion, sell off excess juvenile population to the highest bidder. Having a troop of individuals in natural telepathic contact with one another made for very effective soldiers and guards. Thus Morgoth had purchased the biggest lot that he could. Cobalt had been somewhat upset that her duties would alter the situation. Her master had taken to having one of his trophy pets sleeping with him at night to see to his pleasures and to defend him if it came to that. The dragoness did not trust mental programs to ensure loyalty. She could not trust Cinder to sacrifice herself to save her master the way Cobalt would, which was likely the reason Morgoth no longer favored her. She reminded him of Magenta, which reminded him of his close brush with the pirates, which could have ended in death or imprisonment, which would likely have had him auctioned off to one of his many enemies, which would also equal death. The great dragon never left the planet anymore, he seldom ventured outside the building anymore, so paranoid was he about attack. Cobalt reminded him of his own mortality, and so he now longer wanted her at his side. "They're getting up, Mistress," Scarlet said softly, her scaled hands caressing Cobalt's rounded belly, making the sapphire dragon sigh with delight. The Ogari gift was not something that could be easily granted outside the womb, the process started well before the individual was born. It could be granted to an adult, but only to a female with the proper equipment. Essentially Cobalt had an organic computer implanted into her womb. It was still growing and adapting to her particular genetic code and it was having difficulties with all her additions and modifications, but in another month or two she would no longer need Scarlet to direct the Red Guard for her. The implant had cost Morgoth more than 12 teenaged Ogari. Even a rudimentary scan of Cobalt's biology indicated the same 'suicide bomber' capacity that had allowed Magenta to atomize a goodly portion of the pirate's flagship, and herself along with it. There hadn't even been a funeral for her. She would've taken it better if there had been remains of her beloved sister to lay to rest. But there was nothing left of her other half, just space dust. "You're crying again, Mistress," Scarlet said softly, her lavender eyes looking up at Cobalt with concern. "Just remembering family," Cobalt said, sitting up. "Have everyone hit the showers and then meet in the banquet hall for breakfast. Make sure that it is free of clientele. Though Councilman Chen gave an increased payment after Apple and Cherry dislocated his shoulder forcibly removing him from Radish, Master Morgoth insisted that I remind you that not all our clients see a good fight as an aphrodisiac." Scarlet bowed. "As you say, Mistress." -o- Cobalt panted beneath the shower's spray. One of the disadvantages of having so many bodily modifications from so many differing companies, governments, and even entirely different species was that at times they would often clash and produce strange side-effects. Kriegan was very skilled at what she did, but all she knew was Leiaou tech. Recently her master had been testing out not only Ogari bio-technology, but some Vorrellian implants as well. They were a strange, ancient race. You seldom saw actual Vorrel, only their products. Unlike Leiaoutan engineered creatures, which were essentially normal races with a few things added on, Vorrel creatures were more like constructs. They were created purely to perform a specific role. They literally did nothing aside from perform the tasks they were designed for. Morgoth had only acquired a few engineered organs, implanting them in Cobalt to see how well they worked for the purpose of seduction and sexual pleasure before having something similar placed in one of his top earning Companions. They worked quite well, Cobalt could stir up the desires of nearly any male or female from across the room; targeted pheromones that worked on a specific individual. She merely needed to have a genetic sample to work with. A mere brush of her hand over her target's skin and she could have them drooling with lust, unable to resist taking her then and there if she so desired. But as Morgoth had expected, it had increased the dragoness' sex drive almost exponentially. It seemed as if she had to climax several times a day, or else she felt painfully swollen in places. The Ogari bio-computer and the seduction implants seemed to feed off of one another, leaving Cobalt's rounded belly sensitive to the touch, making her entire midsection an erogenous zone when she was aroused. Her morning shower was enough to drive her to climax several times, without even needing to lay a hand on her body. It was annoying and obnoxious, it was getting in the way of her work as her master's bodyguard and trainer of his new security force, but Cobalt found herself enjoying it nonetheless. It made her feel like a proper individual, rather than something like the Vorrel products she'd seen. They frightened her. They were all single-minded, focused entirely on the tasks they were to perform day after day. They had little personality to them and had no interest outside of their roles. They were bodyguards and only bodyguards. When they weren't seeing to security matters they were training, eating, or sleeping. She did her job quite well, and she smelled absolutely delightful. Cobalt made it a habit of taking the girl into a closet and working off the growing sexual desire that filled her throughout the day. The girl enjoyed it, and seemed to be comforted by the attention from another with a bit of Vorrel anatomy. Typically Vorrellian constructs worked in entire teams. It was rare to have an individual working for a single employer. Though her master had expressed the idea of getting rid of all the receptionists and secretaries he employed and have them replaced with Vorrellian constructs. Since they were made from scratch with a very limited mentality and that Vorrel law had little to do with individuals the constructs were typically lifetime purchases. Feed them, clothe them, and give them a place to live and you had free workers. Of course Leiaoutan law frowned on this, so the Vorrel had them 'iterated.' Essentially brought back and altered with a few small improvements and had unimportant memories removed, satisfying the letter of the law laid down by this planet's government. Cobalt sighed as she shut the water off, her master had been thinking about getting Vorrellian bodyguards, but she'd advised against their purchase. They did not think very creatively and the demonstration models had failed in several key tests that Cobalt had arranged. She much preferred the technologies that had gone into her creation, and they had worked well thus far. Her master seemed to be more interested in costs and pure control rather than quality. His new purchases and hire-ees were ones that were completely and utterly unable to rebel against him. Even the way he made Companions had changed. He used to take pride in his trophies, like Cinder, having thought up some punishment that was both terrible and wonderful. The former pirate would find himself increasingly enjoying the more he explored was his new quadrupedal, hermaphroditic body had to offer. Of course unceasingly loyalty to his, now her, new master would be a part of the package. But even some weeks after Cinder and her sister had been 'freed' they still remained within the building, with no will to leave. That was much more interesting and much more of an actual punishment than just wiping the mind clean and placing the template of a skilled whore on top. Comparing Tawny, the most recent companion, to Shimmer, one of the first, and you found two very different creatures. Tawny was shy, timid, and did her job because it was the only thing she knew how to do. She did what she was told by her clients, and had no initiative of her own. Shimmer, on the other hand, latched onto little quirks and fetishes of her customers', she'd managed to draw a curiosity about being taken by someone with a male member, and coaxed that into a full on transformation into a cock-craving shemale. That had always amused her, making clients into employees. But Morgoth had little interest in having his pets go above and beyond the call of duty recently. It upset Cobalt, who had seen her master's rise, and was worried about the inevitable fall. Perhaps it was the lack of competition? The absence of a challenge or any sort of vast goal to strive for? There was nothing to motivate her master to do better, and thus his empire began to stagnate. Cobalt found herself wishing something would happen to shake things up. She would be cursing her idle thoughts a few hours hence... -o- Cobalt cared little about the carpets and flooring beneath her feet, she dug in her sharp claws with each step, helping to lend speed to her flat out run as she hurtled through the hallways. She couldn't believe the audacity of the individual. Not only was he trying to steal one of the Companions, but at the moment he was squaring off one on one with her master! Morgoth had the best body money could buy, and it was likely that the intruder was already ashes and dust by now, but the alarm still blared in her head. Other security agents had responded, but they had been taken care of, some knocked unconscious, others incapacitated with broken bones, still more with terrible burns from plasma claws on their bodies. Cobalt could scarcely believe it. The power source required, as well as the intricate circuitry needed for the things made them inefficient. If you had plasma claws put in, you couldn't possibly add dermal plate armor to the arms, shoulders, or neck. Not to mention they were highly illegal for civilians. Was there an undercover member of some police agency? A spy from an offworld government? Or had one of the many mercenaries gotten drunk and decided to take a prized sex toy home with him? The dragoness rounded the corner, hearing the tell-tale hiss as stray dust and water vapor in the air burned on the intruder's plasma claws. She heard a bellow and the sizzle of flesh as Morgoth was struck by the crazy client. It made her eyes widen. She'd never imagined that her master could possibly be injured in a fight. "I ought to rip your wings off for what you've done!" growled an unfamiliar voice. Male, probably, sounding like one of the smaller mammalian races of Furre, likely a fox judging from the slight accent. Morgoth cried out in pain as Cobalt stepped into the room. She was incredibly confused, for her master's opponent was a relatively tiny fox. He barely stood over five and a half feet in height, and the black dragon should easily have been able to pick him up and throw him across the room with one hand. Blue tinted blood leaked from Morgoth's nose, as well as from several plasma claw gashes that hadn't been cauterized immediately upon impact. The fox had her master down on his knees, and was perched on his back, gripping both of the dragon's wings at the second joint, both feet dug in between the shoulder blades. Due to the nerves and muscles required for flight, an additional pressure point was created in that spot, the pressure caused the flight muscles in the chest and back to tighten, essentially immobilizing the arms and torso. It was essentially impossible to fix if you wanted a six limbed, bipedal, flight-capable form. A pair of muffled pops preceded a blood curdling scream of agony from her master as the fox dislocated Morgoth's wings. He released the dragon, who fell to the floor, whimpering with pain. He held out a hand to the Companion tigress, who looked on with wide, frightened eyes. "I... I'm not..." she whispered. "Yes, you are." The fox insisted, "Generic tests confirm it. You even have several components with genetic markers showing them as being part of a lot purchased by the Galaxan Rangers. You're one of us!" "No, she's not," Cobalt said with a growl, stepping from her place in the doorway. "She is my master's property, and she will be staying here!" The relief upon the feline's face showed. Cobalt felt her rage rising. Not only had this fox hurt her master, not only had he caused havoc in her home, but he had also terrorized one of the sweetest and most innocent of the Companions. "Cut your losses and leave now, and you'll get to keep your head on your shoulders," Cobalt growled. The fox put himself between the tigress and the dragoness, "I'm not leaving without her. You can't just steal people off of the streets and enslave them. She's my friend, and I'm taking her with me!" Cobalt chuckled. "Is she? Is she really your friend, fox? Her body might once have been, but her mind is something my master created. You don't want to leave, do you, Tawny? You want to stay right here and serve your master like a good pet should, don't you?" The fox looked back for a moment as Tawny spoke, "I... I..." she stammered, having never even given a thought that she might have been someone else before, let alone have it confirmed by her master's guardian. It was all the distraction Cobalt needed. She raced forward intent on backhanding the intruder's head right off his shoulders. The fox moved his head, seemingly ever so slightly. The blow ruffled his hair and the tops of his ears, but did not cause any damage. He darted right at Cobalt, lowering his head and slamming it into her sternum, the blow aimed perfectly, avoiding her breasts and belly. "Tawny, come with me. Anyone who makes a pregnant dragoness fight for them is too evil to give your loyalty to." If Cobalt had been a normal creature, the blow would have knocked the wind out of her. But she was far from normal, and the impact merely sent her back half a step. She pivoted immediately, aiming her tail towards the center of the fox's body mass. Again he ducked, pushing her tail up with one hand as he dropped to one knee. The dragoness' eyes went wide as pain shot through her body for a moment before her mental computer shut off the signal. The little bastard had just punched her in the groin! The fox moved back a few steps, a grossed out look on his face as he shook his hand. "I think you're leaking," he said, trying to get Cobalt's sexual juices off of his fur. "I'm not leaking!" the dragon growled, "I was right in the middle of something when you decided to steal my master's property!" The fox grinned. "I thought I heard a pneumatic jackhammer when I was coming in." Cobalt sputtered for a moment before roaring in rage and lunging at her tormentor. The fox was fast, he almost managed to evade her grasp, but she just barely managed to catch hold of his tail. He yelped as Cobalt spun, using her incredible power to pull him along with her weight. The fox was heavier than he looked, but Cobalt was still more than strong enough to toss him across the room. Drywall turned to dust and studs snapped as the fox impacted with the barrier. Startled shrieks from the other side told Cobalt that she'd just thrown him into the Companion living quarters. She needed to get him into the lab and somehow get him into one of the containment tubes. Even if she was in there with him, they could both be quickly sedated and then she could be extracted, and the fox could be made into her master's next trophy. She leaped through the hole after him, landing on all fours, eyes darting around to find her opponent. The dust in the air complicated things, and the presence of several of the companions and the guards that had been stationed in the room in case there was a plot to make off with more than one of the girls confused things greatly for her heat sensors. Her sonar found him almost immediately, as he was hefting a chair to throw at her. Or maybe it was a loveseat. Cobalt swatted it aside, snapping its framework, the springs within giving sounds of protest at the impact. She lunged at the fox once more, only to have him jump, kick off the wall, and soar over her head. Her eyes widened as he grabbed her wings, planting both feet between her shoulder blades. The pain and immobilization never came, for there was a growl and an impact on the fox, the weight removed from her back. Cobalt turned to find Cinder chasing after the startled intruder, the massive quadrupedal vixen surprisingly agile and light on her feet. The flame-hued creature was half again as large as Cobalt, and more besides, as her heavy frame was meant for moving about in the manner of a beast. It allowed for more predatory power to be packed onto it. She wasn't anywhere near as enhanced as Cobalt, but her sheer size meant typically they were equals for strength. The fox was most definitely unarmored, and it took all he could to avoid Cinder's sharp teeth. The vixen could easily clamp down and remove a limb on his much smaller body. Once again he sprung off the wall and onto his opponent's back, wrapping his arm tightly around Cinder's throat, pulling his wrist back with the other one, seeking to choke her. It was the perfect way to take her out of the fight, for her body's construction made it impossible for her to reach the pest upon her back, or to claw at the arm around her neck. She tried with a back leg, but the fox kicked it to the side. The dragoness shook off her momentary disorientation and charged once more, seeking to give the fox the pain he deserved. But he got his feet under him, pushing himself almost perpendicular to Cinder, while still maintaining the choke. He lashed out with a foot, sending Cobalt off balance, tripping over the remains of the loveseat she'd smashed. She found the fox's leg around her throat, locked behind the opposing knee, his ankle behind one horn, pushing her into the choke. Despite all her mods, Cobalt's organic brain still needed oxygen to function. She could feel herself beginning to black out. The cybernetic portion of her mind scanned over her options as she found her claws ineffective. The fox had sub-dermal armor plating on his legs, and all Cobalt could do was cause mild discomfort as she slashed surface skin. Her cyber-mind came up with a potential option, but signaled that the outcome was likely one she wouldn't like, what with her master's preference for heightening and enhancing. But it was an option that would work. With a wince she triggered the release of her pheromones from all of her Ogari implants, focusing on the fox. Her own lust surged to an incredible degree. She felt like she had to bury her cock within something immediately, less it explode from the sheer needful pressure that had suddenly appeared. The grip on her neck loosened, allowing Cobalt to gasp for breath. She heard the fox moan softly and Cinder cough and wheeze and then yelp with surprise as she was groped. "I feel funny," The fox murmured softly. "Mmm... I think I need a great big soft vixie to cuddle..." Cinder snorted and clamped down on the fox's tail and began dragging him off. Cobalt nearly growled at that, a tiny male intruder, someone she could be as rough with as she wanted. She wanted to let loose, and the armored body of the fox could easily take the punishment. She needed sex so badly... but there was something else she had to do. "L-lab," she managed through clenched teeth. "In the tubes," the dragoness groaned to Cinder. The vixen's many tails wagged, telling the dragon that she understood. With a grunt of effort she lifted the fox from the ground, leaving him to dangle. "Where we goin' sexy vixie?" the male fox slurred, mind nearly overcome with lust as Cinder carried him off. Cobalt sighed, dropping to her knees. She found herself continuing to throw off pheromones, non-targeted this time. She needed sex and was going to make sure she got some. There was a soft yelp from beneath one of the beds, and Cobalt grinned and reached beneath dragging out one of the Companions. Patches, the chimera. Not Cobalt's first choice for a fucktoy, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and she seemed content enough to cling to the dragoness as she slipped her cock into the Companion. She wasn't supposed to touch the merchandise, but after having saved Tawny from abduction, Cobalt figured she'd earned this. Gods, no wonder someone would want to steal one of them, the feeling was absolutely incredible... -o- "Wipe out his mind. Everything. I don't want the slightest scrap of personality to remain. If the son of a bitch even keeps the same favorite color, I'll consider it a failure and take out my rage on you!" Morgoth growled to Kriegan. The dragon was not in good shape. The medical technician was still grabbing supplies, and the thief was already occupying the reconstruction cylinder of the Leiaoutan machine. He could easily be swapped to one of the two suspension tubes, but Morgoth wasn't going to risk another humiliating defeat. He could barely even stand upright, having to lean on Tawny to keep him from pitching forward, and relying on Hailey to keep him upright and not bent over, where his wings would try and bend and send bolts of agony through him. "Yes sir, full mental deletion and reconstruction," Kriegan said softly, her thin frame quivering with fear. "Only minimal genetic alterations, though. I want you to be able to duplicate every modification he has. He's pumped full of military grade shit, and I want it. I want everything he has that allowed him to beat my two best bodyguards. Also, I want you to contact the Ogari, snag some more of their stuff to add onto Cobalt. The seduction glands are the only reason why we're still in business with all my property here, rather than in some general's boudoir," Morgoth said through clenched teeth. Kriegan noticed that dragon referred to the fox as beating his bodyguards, rather than himself. She also noticed that he was attributing this attack to the plots of a mercenary general. He'd been ranting almost non-stop about someone wanting to cut in, using military might to snag his territory and go into the whoring trade for their own. Truth be told, the fox didn't have too much in the way of combat mods that were better than Morgoth's. The best of them were only 25% superior, and those weren't even in areas her boss cared about. She kept the knowledge to herself, though; he wouldn't want to hear it. The non-combat mods the fox did have, however, were rather interesting and the feline herm would be spending weeks looking them over, seeing how they worked and how to duplicate them. The dragon grinned and chuckled, running a taloned hand through Tawny's hair. "Since he wanted to be with my pretty kitty so bad, let's give her a little sister. But keep enough of the fox in him so I can see what he used to be." Kriegan nodded, shifting her body to cover a large warning on the screen before Morgoth could see it. She felt blindly for the button to clear it, but she need not have worried. The dragon's eyes were unfocused and he seemed quite focused on fantasizing about his revenge. "Very well, sir." Kriegan said, turning to the console to hide her smile at what the scan had showed her. An interesting modification. A very interesting mod indeed.

When they were told the city was going to be “mostly empty”, the trio seriously underestimated what the guide meant with “mostly”. It was technically correct, in that the vast majority of the ruins were bereft of anything that could remotely hurt them unless any of them poked around where they shouldn’t… but that didn’t mean they were immune from harm either, not when Shades still roamed the place, eager to find someone stupid enough to walk into the remains of the lost city without adequate preparations. And, as Elida, Voltair and Boran took the “mostly empty” to mean they just had to bring their good combat equipment as opposed to anything more esoteric, they were very much at the mercy of the entity’s powers, to the point where most of the fight, which by that point had been dragging on for five minutes, consisted of them dodging psychic blasts while trying to avoid being hit by the rubble. They couldn’t even coordinate either; any time they tried to stop to set up a battle plan, they had to jump in a random direction to avoid being hit, creating a downward spiral that would only end when the Mudsdale, sick and tired of being on the defensive, used the momentum from one of his dodges to propel himself forward. He sunk his hooves into the tiled ground, managing to break through to the earth beneath, before launching himself at the Shade at maximum velocity, hoping to get one good blow in before being casually tossed aside; he didn’t even get that much done, as the spirit simply twirled around itself as it glided gently off to the side at just the right moment to leave Boran to overshoot his attack like a mindless bull, just barely avoiding smashing against a wall. Elida, desperate for an out, used the opportunity to lunge at the threat, only to have her entire body paralyzed even before the Shade so much as bothered to look at her; she could see the sheer malice in its eyes, as it pondered what to do with its captured prey… before casually throwing the equine backwards, off the ledge and into the depths of the city’s lower levels. In that moment, when Elida got to watch as the ground she once stood on rose upwards and away from her extended arms, she was convinced that she was never going to leave; her body would smash against a hard surface at some point, reducing her to something that would be best placed inside a closed casket, assuming anyone even came back to get her, rather than leaving her to fill up the place as yet another adventurer who learned their lesson in combat preparedness. Instead, either by pure luck or divine intervention, one of her sides impacted a soft, rounded piece of stone jutting out from one of the walls, thoroughly knocking all the wind out of her sails, but angling her descent just enough that, rather than freefalling to the bottommost layer a good two minutes down, she instead slid onto a platform a mere couple of stories below where Boran and Voltair still fought the Shade; close enough that she could see what was happening, but too far for her to actually do anything to help. Not that she could; the fall was relatively short, but it was still bad enough to leave her unable to move without it causing some serious pain, requiring the use of several health potions before her back stopped screaming every time she tried to straighten it. Even then, just moving around in general was an absolute chore and a half, and it took so long for her to find her footing again that, by the time she stood up and looked at where the fight was going on, it had gone silent; the short moment of panic cleared up when she realized the body sliding off from the top of the city towards the very bottom of it, the one condemned to a fall that she herself had just narrowly avoided, was that of the Shade’s. Her Ampharos and Mudsdale travelling companions, mercifully, were up there staring at her, looking about as worried as they did injured; cuts and bruises were visible on far too many spots on their bodies, but they were alive, and well enough to also stand, so that was something at least. “Elida, you alright?” Voltair called out, “What happened?!” “I fell,” she replied, trying her best not to sound too snarky on a response that obvious, “and I hurt my everything in the process. You guys alright?” “About as good as we can be after a fight like that,” Boran responded, “listen, we can’t get to you from here, but there has to be a way down; we’ll be taking care of battle damage and then we’ll try and fight a way to get to you, alright?” “I’ll see if I can’t find a way up as well,” Elida shouted back, looking at an opening a few paces away, “you guys be careful, alright?” “Same. Come back in one piece!” A nod, exchanged between friends, before Elida faced away from them and towards her newest destination: the labyrinthine interior of the lost city. Lacking any maps or information on how to orient themselves, the group had assumed they could simply chart the various passageways, stairwells and avenues, drawing what they saw in an impromptu map as they went along. They weren’t the best scouts, but surely, if they just kept meticulous enough records, the odds of them getting lost were… minimal, maybe. With their not-so-carefully laid-out plans now in ruins after a chance encounter with the Shade right at the entrance, Elida had to rely entirely on her sense of navigation in order to make her way back to the very top of the tiered city, most likely through a series of pathways that were entirely impossible to navigate if one didn’t already have an encyclopedic knowledge of the metropolis’ layout. Its vertical design didn’t help either, as there was a myriad of locations built around either enormous spires or equally gigantic pits, with habitations and what had once been (presumably) commercial establishments built into the walls; the Faè city had been a hub of trade when it was still around centuries prior, and even after the ravages of time had their way with it, the sheer scale of everything around her was enough to leave Elida slack-jawed and wide-eyed whenever she walked into an open area and felt herself shrinking just looking at the majesty of it all. She could only imagine what it would’ve looked like, filled to the brim with both the native inhabitants and folk from all over the world, come to congregate in the center of trade for the whole continent, a place where anyone could make their fortune and immediately lose it in both entirely legal and wholly illegal manners. Millions could live there like it was nothing, each one with their own slice of personal paradise, either carved into the walls of the creator the city was built in, or within the very mega-structure of it; legend had it that each one was magically insulated for maximum privacy, so that even if the end of the world was happening outside the front door, no one would know of it until it struck. Which it did. Very little was known of the disaster that befell that civilization, only that it had wiped them clean off the face of the planet while leaving most of their creations behind, their only legacy being the now-ruined city and, apparently, the occasional spirit haunting the place, most likely drawn in from elsewhere. For Elida, it gave the ruins a certain air of grandiose magnificence, as if she was somewhere that shouldn’t be, a relic from a time past that should’ve long crumbled into dust, yet steadfastly refused to fall before the march of time… and that, that presented a wonderful adventuring business opportunity. Ruins almost always meant valuable goodies; well-preserved ruins turned that into a certainty, the only variable being just how valuable the finds would be. It was entirely possible that the city had been picked clean, or that anything that could be found within simply had no demand in the outside world; then again, it was also possible that there could be unthinkably precious finds just waiting for Elida to stumble onto them, prompting her to start diving into open doorways and whatever passages hadn’t yet collapsed, hoping to find something to show to her adventuring companions to prove that coming there hadn’t been a complete waste of time. She wouldn’t have to look too deeply either, as it appeared the city’s sole entrance, along with the reputation it had for being an adventurer killer, had kept most of its treasures safely out of the hands of looters over the ages: gold and silver, matted with dirt and age, stood next to bronze that had once shone brightly, yet had by then been covered with a dull green; everything from cutlery to jewelry and even arms and armor were to be found wherever she looked, appearing as if the civilization that once made the city its beating heart really had just vanished overnight, leaving everything behind like an interrupted meal. There was so much of it, in fact, that Elida couldn’t decide what to bring as evidence… plus, there was a reasonable chance the whole lot might be cursed as well, so better if she just went back to mentally marking her path while trying to find her way up; still, she made the effort of going through rooms and abandoned merchant posts whenever she could, occasionally stopping to marvel at contraptions and machinery far beyond her understanding. It was during one of these forays that Elida ended up getting a bit too close for comfort with something that, in her mind, was entirely innocuous: a wall-mounted panel, sticking out ever so slightly. Built out of what felt like cast iron, it was clearly at least partially magical in nature, judging by the runic designs inscribed on it. The language in which they were written was indecipherable to Elida, though she had no clue whether it was because it was ancient, or thanks to her not being the most well-versed in magical theory; there was a reason they had Voltair around, as he at least could pull his weight several times over when it came to wizardry and the occasional piece of obscure historical lore. Still, it couldn’t be that bad, as surely any residual magic that could’ve been present there was sure to have evaporated after such a long time; it was highly unlikely that whatever curse befell the place would affect what was most likely just a price listing table, one that the establishment’s proprietor could change without having to waste ink or a piece of flint. So, she touched it, if only lightly, as if brushing off some of the vast quantities of dirt that had accumulated over the ages, only to immediately regret doing so, when her whole body was paralyzed by a sharp electric jolt! She felt like flying backwards, but instead, it just dissipated after an instant, leaving Elida wondering whether she’d imagined the whole thing… only for her chestpiece to start feeling incredibly tight. Worried that she might’ve accidentally shocked her heart so hard that it stopped, her eyes immediately veered downwards in a futile attempt to restart it with a worried look, at which point Elida was presented with the sight of a bust that had most certainly not been there just moments before. With a yelp, she jumped backwards, as if doing so would do anything to get her away from her own breasts; in fact, once it didn’t, she flinched back again, only then realizing the folly of her actions. It was hard to decide whether she should panic or otherwise lose her mind at the prospect of being given a free tit boost, even harder once her leg armor began to tighten around the edges as well, leaving the equine ecstatic at the prospect that she might’ve accidentally unleashed a hidden blessing rather than a curse! It all happened quickly enough that she barely had time to remove her equipment, at times resorting to cutting up the straps holding it together rather than waste even a second not revealing the curves she was being blessed with; it was a chance glance upwards that revealed the runes on the metal plate were actually moving, and in a rather conspicuous manner as well: a handful of them remained stationary while glowing red, while those in front of them inched to the right while glowing blue. The rate at which they did so seemed to synch up perfectly with how quickly Elida felt herself filling up… so could it be? Only one way of finding out: taking a few wobbly steps forward and slamming her fingers against the surface of the rune-inscribed panel, attempting to drag the moving sigils further off to the right… and succeeding admirably! No sooner had she tried to shift the sigils than they were moved with effectively zero resistance, leading to a comparable, and very respectable increase in her own size! What had once been merely a larger-enough bust that she had to remove her chestpiece became a pair of torso-obscuring tits; where once had been an ass just big enough to strain the seams on her undergarments was now a bubble butt of such absurd dimensions that Elida could easily sink her whole hand into a single cheek and still have room left for her other one, to say nothing of how soft those thighs of her felt whenever she tried moving. It was heaven, and it was provided to her at absolutely no cost; better yet, it didn’t seem to be over yet, as even though she’d burst free from most of her adventuring gear, leaving only the non-critical bits, Elida could still feel as the weight on her continued to mount. It was as if someone had plugged a hose into every part of her curves that could possibly be upgraded and let loose a slow, but unstoppable pumping of soft pudge, leaving her with heavier breasts, a fatter and rounder ass, plumper and juicier thighs, and even a bit of extra something-something around her waist; it gave her a well-rounded look that was distracting enough for her not to think about how much it would be an impediment to her combat abilities. Really, it even seemed to be slowing down, so surely, by the time it stopped, she’d be left with the perfect hourglass figure, albeit one slightly exaggerated in terms of size; not that Elida was going to complain, not when such proportions were the kind of stuff she dreamed about whenever she felt particularly aroused before going to sleep. Hell, the faces on Voltair and Boran alone would be more than worth the trouble of climbing upwards with all that extra weight on her… not that she wanted to move, of course. There was something about herself that left Elida thinking that maybe she should take a break, maybe she should sit down and enjoy herself for once, rather than constantly worrying about achieving goals and accomplishing objectives; maybe she’d earned the right to have a little fun, after nearly falling to her death and then stumbling onto a magical size-altering machine that seemed intent on giving her the kind of curves that she’d always dreamed of. Maybe, just maybe, she should sit down and just let it happen… or, perhaps, she should keep moving. Her eyes shot wide-open, her mind awakening from the stupor it had just fallen into; for a few moments, Elida was left feeling disoriented, as if she had just climbed out of bed too quickly, only to then realize that she was still standing up, still in the middle of an abandoned city, and still, somehow, growing. It was only then that the puzzle pieces fell into place, and the equine came to understand that whatever that panel did, it had most likely just attempted to hijack her mental processes, forcing her into a far more pliable state where all she’d think to do would revolve around her newfound size, and the love for more of it thereof. She could only assume that was not its original intention, and either the runes had been corrupted over time or the whole place was cursed, just as she’d feared; what mattered, however, was getting as far away from it as possible, because if that thing was powerful enough to try and take over her conscious self, it couldn’t possibly be safe to stay around it in the same room. Granted, it would’ve been easier if she’d tried to leave prior to giving herself an even bigger body, as while the doors were sufficiently wide that Elida had no trouble using them beforehand, the extra weight to her bottom half had turned that on its head; while she hadn’t noticed it, thinking that moving through empty spaces would be just as easy as before, this notion would be destroyed once she tried to leave the room she was in… and promptly got stuck in the doorway. The flinch that came with it, the momentary jerk forward as she battled momentum, left Elida feeling more confused than anything; for a moment, she considered the possibility that her tattered clothes might’ve gotten tied to something, and were still strong enough to pull her back. It was only when she tried to push herself forward, both hands on either side of the doorframe, that the truth of the situation came crashing down on her: her legs had gone through, but her asscheeks had gotten stuck. Immediately the adventuress’ cheeks turned a bright red as the mental image flashed in her mind’s eye, of her butt being so big that it literally couldn’t fit through a door; it wasn’t altogether negative, at least not for the lewder side of her, though the longer she considered it, the more Elida came to notice that it was only getting worse: if previously she could still feel some minor movement, albeit one that left her feeling painfully chafed, after a short while she couldn’t even so much as inch her wide load of an ass far enough for it to rub against the surface it was stuck on. She was immobile, completely so, and that’s when panic set in. Would she continue to grow into the door until her body collapsed in on itself? Would her cheeks keep on bloating until the walls crumbled and she was buried underneath both herself and the ruins around her? Or would her frantic attempts at freeing herself end up bearing fruit? She certainly wasn’t going to sit around and wait for the answer to reveal itself, though at that point, her options were limited; Elida couldn’t see herself passing through the door the conventional way, but the more she pushed back against it, the more she realized the solution was the exact opposite: she should pull away, forcing herself back into the cursed room… and then use momentum. Again her cheeks lit up, but at least it was a plan that could work, so with all the strength she had left, Elida swapped the side of the wall her hands were pushing against, dislodging herself almost comically easily before skidding a couple of feet backwards, ending up flat on her colossal, by-then-couch-sized ass. Getting up was the hardest part, with her brain unable to comprehend how it was supposed to coordinate a lower body of that size, but as soon as her center of gravity was discovered and properly accounted for, it was a simple matter of turning around, having her butt face the door, and then throwing herself backwards as hard as she possibly could. In Elida’s mind, the city around her was old enough that it should be easy to force the walls to crumble underneath such an assault, and it wasn’t until she was rolling around outside the room, covered head to toe in rubble and debris, that she even thought of the possibility of a cascading failure ending with the whole city landing on top of her. It hardly seemed to matter, since she’d either end up buried under it or stuck inside of it anyway, and at least by rolling out of her would-be prison, Elida ensured she had some chance of escaping. Of course, by the time she successfully pulled herself back onto her feet, her body had been warped beyond all recognition, so much so that she had to stop and stare at herself for a few seconds just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Her clothes were effectively all gone by that point; with her adventuring uniform having been ripped to shreds back during her initial transformation, the additional size to her lower end had done a number on her undergarments, leaving her fully nude and exposed to whomever might be watching, apart from a few meaningless tattered bits of cloth. And what a view it would be: a look back, and sure enough, there was a rear so wide that both of her adventuring partners could probably sit on it and have room to spare, melting down to a pair of thighs so deliciously engorged that poor Elida had to bite her tongue just to keep herself from moving her hands toward them. Up above and out front, a bust that had not only fattened to the point where it covered most of her torso and spilled out near-obscenely on either side of her, but a bust filled with sweet, warm milk, a thin cream that ran down her front and gently pitter-pattered onto the floor in small droplets… growing thicker with each moment she spent not doing anything about it. The sloshing soon became evident, as did the fact that she was still growing outwards, leaving Elida frozen between her desire to see herself become massive and the understanding that she had to leave before getting too big to be able to do so; unfortunately for her, getting out of the city was far easier said than done, seeing as her body had become an impediment to the very act of motion itself. Just trying to take a step in any direction had become a fight against gravity and momentum, what with her enhanced mass wanting to keep moving, causing shockwaves to course through her form, leaving jiggling in their wake whenever she moved forward and then had to pull herself back to prevent tipping over; this only shifted the balance backwards, at which point Elida had to lean forwards to keep herself from falling flat on her ass, creating a cycle whereby instead of simply walking, she waddled like an upright pendulum, making some short progress before obliterating it near-entirely. Two steps forward, one and three quarters step back, the growing adventuress very slowly made her way towards the grand stairwell she could see off in the other side of where she was, an enormous open space just like all the others she’d seen before, albeit one that felt significantly bigger as a result of her own inability to walk properly. Every step came at an absurd cost, the equine huffing and puffing as her form became too heavy for her to move without a significant amount of effort, sweat running down her brow as a result… though, at times, it was hard to tell whether it was because she was approaching the one-ton mark, or because her very size was causing an internal reaction within Elida’s mind that left her increasingly vulnerable to the predations of her more sexual thoughts, the ones who were screaming their heads off about how beautiful and wonderful and desirable it was to have a body that acted the way hers did. She tried her best to ignore them, but the more she walked towards the exit, the more Elida felt the weight on her increase with every step, the sounds of her hooves landing on the floor growing louder over time, eventually accompanied by the unmistakable crack of stone being broken. The blush on her face didn’t get any better either, not when she had to deal with her body wobbling all over the place when she did literally anything other than stand perfectly still, or with the waterfalls of milk being produced by her tits; this alone was significant cause for concern, because Elida was thirsty, and with her gear having been left in the room where it all began, there was only really one solution to that, one that she tried her best not to think about. It was ludicrous, downright obscene, far too lewd for her to ever consider even as she brought one of her hands down to her right breast and began lifting it; never in her wildest dreams would Elida ever consider the possibility of plugging her mouth with her own nipples and then drinking deeply and greedily from the font of sweet, deliciously sugary milk that came from within it. Certainly not then, when her teat was forced between her lips and the flow began, certainly not when her eyes went half-lidded and her muscle control vanished into the aether, and certainly not when Elida found herself taking long, full gulps of some of the most delicious cream that she’d ever had the pleasure of tasting in her entire life. There was something instinctive about it, like the taste or the feel of the teat were enough to break down whatever resistance Elida still had to the idea of just… drinking. Of giving up trying to leave the ruins and instead focusing entirely on the very wonderful act of chugging down her own lactic production, of feeling its warmth trickling down her throat and landing heavily in her stomach, again and again, until finally she was slaked and the physical thirst went away, leaving only the metaphorical one behind. Once both were taken care of, only then did the adventuress return to her senses, right about when her right breast slapped against her torso and the ground at the same time, the slight difference between it and its left sister easily made up for within a couple of short seconds. Satisfied, and thoroughly stuffed, Elida knew that it was time to resume her attempted escape, which was made slightly more difficult than it should be on account of her being sat down and unable to get back up. It was a hard thing to process at first; the ability to stand was such a basic process that her inability to go through with it left her brain scrambling to try and understand what was happening, as surely, she shouldn’t be that immobilized yet. It took a lot of effort on her part before Elida began to understand just how big she’d gotten in the indeterminate amount of time spent guzzling down her own milk, at which point she was left perplexed at her own perception of time; from her perspective, it had only been a few seconds, no more than a minute of straight drinking, so it was either a case of her having blanked out entirely for far longer… or perhaps her milk had accelerated her growth, a possibility that left every nerve in her body tingling at the possibilities it brought. Unfortunately for the equine, her tits had since become too bloated for her to reach their buds again; much as she’d love to try out a new round of mindless consumption, the fact was that her stubby arms were just too small to reach over to where her endlessly leaking nips were, which let her know just how colossal her body had become, and thoroughly cemented the notion that yes, she was stuck in her spot, firmly within her mind. It was a hard truth to swallow, but the more she tried to wobble, the more she attempted to fight gravity and pull herself back up, the more Elida slowly realized it was an uphill battle on a mountain that kept getting taller at a much faster rate than she could climb it. Giving up was always an option, though not one that Elida wanted to contemplate… at least, not at first. When it became clear that, against all odds, she was still getting bigger and fatter and fuller and heavens above whatever else, the adventuress had to admit to herself that she wasn’t going anywhere; stuck in the middle of a ruined city and waiting for her friends to come fetch her, there wasn’t anything that she could feasibly do other than wait until rescue arrived, and there was something liberating about that. Previously, she’d been wasting time and mental resources worrying about how she could escape, how she could use her size to her own advantage, how she’d have to deal with said size in time; now though, after throwing such concerns to the wind and simply embracing the reality that she was stuck there, things felt immensely better. Now, without any prospects of ever leaving until her adventuring partners stumbled upon her, Elida could focus on what truly mattered: her body, its mounting size, and the sheer fullness of it all. Just herself, stuck there, unable to move because she was so immense, relishing in this undeniable fact and knowing that it would only ever get worse; she was, after all, still growing, the magics coursing through her still active enough that Elida could feel as her asscheeks swelled, her thighs thickened and her tits fattened and filled. She was, ultimately, still not done, and above all else, this was what gave her life. She sighed. Never before had she experienced that level of calm before, and judging by the size of the city itself, it’d be a while before she would have it be interrupted… longer still before anyone came to take her away from it. And with her body being what it was, all she had to do was gently wobble from side to side if she ever wanted to get her hands on any specific part of it, even it ran the risk of toppling her over… though, then again, even if she did fall, she’d just end up buried beneath her own heft. So why not enjoy it while it lasted?

Neither of them knew how long they spent wrestling one another on the ground, only that it was long enough for Volt to slip away from the house unnoticed before they could do anything about it. Even then it still took both dragonesses far too long to come to terms with and accept this as fact, allowing them to focus their attention on how oily their bodies were, or how the house still reeked of sex and musk; it fueled their decision to keep on exploring their bodies, to ignore responsibilities and instead pursue carnal pleasure to the very ends of reason. It felt like the best thing to do at the time, now that their lover was gone; without the dragon to provide the distractions they so wanted, it was only fair they found them somewhere else. Predictably, they chose one another, seeing as they were, well… there. This wasn’t meant to last. Pleasurable or not, there was only so much they could do with a bottle of syrup before it became boring and the two began craving stimulation of a much longer, girthier nature… but with Volt gone from their lives for the time being, they had to confront themselves with their immediate reality, which unfortunately meant realizing that what they had done the night before had left the house in such a state that, frankly, it was no wonder that their lover had decided to just run away and leave them alone. Though the bedroom had taken most of the damage, the ensuing clean-up ensured that, portals or not, there was still a significant amount of fluids lying around wherever they looked, their smell sticking to every damned surface they approached. To the two women it was actually sort of enlightening to see just what they had done to the place; what kind of beasts had they made of themselves that their juices got everywhere?! It was a hard question to answer, mostly because it involved analyzing their decisions, and doing so after such a long streak of bad ones was bound to be uncomfortable to the nth degree. Both dragonesses mutually agreed to just try and put things behind them, for the sake of everyone really; the house still needed cleaning up and they were at least partly responsible for all the mess, so it was only fair they did their part. How much this “part” was turned out to be a point of contention, especially since neither of them wanted to be the unlucky one who had to scrape cum off the walls; how exactly that thing got stuck behind the wallpaper was a riddle for the ages, and one the neither Spyra nor Cynder wanted to try answering. Still, someone had to do it, and the two took turns losing at rock-paper-scissors before begrudgingly grabbing some soap and a brush. There’d be a lot of renovations around the house once they were done; regretful though they may be, there was no chance in any of the seven hells that they wouldn’t repeat that stunt at some point in the future, thus making waterproofing be an absolute top priority. Any discussions they might’ve had over their future together were wrapped up and thrown somewhere where they didn’t need to think about it. This was Spyra’s and Volt’s house, after all; Cynder was only there due to her interference in their relationship, and while it’d be disingenuous for the original inhabitant to claim that nothing that happened really mattered, she still had no intention of having the other dragoness move in. There were a wide variety of reasons, most of which revolved around feelings of personal jealousy, but, perhaps most importantly… they only really had one room, and Spyra would be damned before she consigned her friend to sleeping on the couch every night. Neither her nor the upholstery deserved that kind of punishment. Nonetheless, things had to be discussed, whether or not they wanted them to be. As the amount of fluids they were cleaning up was slowly but steadily reduced, they could see the awkwardness rising in the horizon, the uncomfortable words they’d have to exchange approaching at quickening speed. Something was going to have to break and at least one of them would have to give; it was up in the air which one that would be, or if the two women could come to grips with their own possessiveness and make concessions towards both sides. Curiously, what finally triggered it all wasn’t even anything of consequence to the discussion itself; after wrapping up the last globs of cum and throwing them into a portal to be sent… elsewhere… Cynder brought a hand to her forehead to wipe the sweat off of it and then walked up to the recently-cleaned mirror inside one of the closet doors. There she admired herself, tracing her curves with one finger while unashamedly biting her lip; Volt’s eager lovemaking left her looking like something out of a wet dream, one of her wet dreams too, but it just wasn’t convenient and she knew it. Thankfully, it was easy enough to tap into all the power she had stored up inside of her and change the way her body looked; trimming a bit of fat here, and bit of pudge there, sculpting her edges so she’d have a far more pronounced hourglass figure, the works. It took a few minutes, during which Spyra watched on with obvious jealousy, but Cynder successfully turned herself into a smaller, yet somehow shapelier version of herself. It was only after turning around that the dragoness noticed that her companion was eyeing her down with near-murderous intent written all over her eyes. For a moment, Cynder was confused; the chores were done and she’d just made herself smaller, thus giving Spyra the upper hand in the size competition. Better yet, she hadn’t even done so for that purpose; it was just a way of walking around more conveniently. Surely, she thought to herself, her friend couldn’t be angry about that, could she? “Teach me how to do that,” Spyra demanded, crossing her arms beneath her bust. Cynder was flabbergasted; that’s why she was so mad? It took her far too long to remember why her friend even wore that necklace all the time, at which point every puzzle piece slid into place and everything clicked in the most horrible way possible. There was Spyra, someone who had been transformed into a giantess against her will and had been made to fix the resulting mess. There was Spyra, who was shown the glory of a body the size of a mountain and yet forced to wear a restraining bolt around her neck everywhere. There was Spyra, made to watch as her main romantic rival effortlessly changed her own body to fit her own desires like it was the simplest thing in the world. Cynder couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of resentment and jealousy going through Spyra’s head, and what was worse, she couldn’t blame her either; she herself would’ve felt the exact same if they were in her position, so what gave them the right to judge? Her shoulders slumped and her eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, the dragoness finding it hard to come up with any words that could possibly excuse her behaviour. Ignorance of it wouldn’t cut it; thoughtlessness wasn’t much better. So why not a trade? “I can teach you, i-if you want,” she mumbled, trying to find where she put her strength and confidence, “it’s not really that difficult, we can even work with your necklace on!” Spyra continued to stare at her with an intensity that would rival the glare of the sun itself, before finally sighing and turning around. She muttered something about fixing up lunch as she walked out into the hallway, leaving Cynder alone to feel sorry for herself. At least the dragoness had the decency to follow her friend and try to make polite conversation, mixing in a few more apologies and promising that it wasn’t a deliberate attempt at showing off; she was just utterly insensitive and caught in the moment! Something about the candidness of that admission of guilt seemed to catch Spyra off-guard as well; though she refused to acknowledge it, she felt an immense need to chuckle every time it was brought up again, as if her friend’s sudden glut of self-awareness was actually funny to her. Eventually, she did start talking again, deftly avoiding anything that might have any emotional weight whatsoever. “So how’s it like sharing your place with someone else?” Cynder dared to ask, “‘Cuz uh, I couldn’t help but notice you only had one bedroom. And one bed.” Her intentions were clear, even if her words could be a bit more. Spyra was delighted to answer that question, and did so with the most sing-songy tone she could find within herself; it wasn’t every day she got to brag about things. “I insisted on it and he agreed. Nominally it was supposed to be for cost-cutting, buuuuuuut~” “I thought you two weren’t… you know, together together until very recently though.” “Eh, true enough, but you know what it’s like” - truth be told, even Spyra didn’t know what it was like. Goodness knows why she thought having a single bed when her feelings for Volt were so complicated would be a good idea - “besides, it worked, didn’t it? Probably gonna need to replace it, but I’m sure we’ll find something.” “Does he usually do the clean-up?” Spyra coughed. “Oh, right,” Cynder coughed back, suddenly remembering what their non-existent sex life had been like before the mountain, “s-sorry.” “It’s alright, just… I don’t wanna think about it too hard. It’s been nice, not gonna lie; having him around the house was… gods, I don’t even know how I can describe it. It was like being teased every single second of every single minute and hour in the day, until you’re dripping wet and your knees are shaking and you can feel your juices flow down the inside of your legs” - the dragoness’ voice was somewhere far past decent, and though her own cheeks were quite red, they were nothing compared to the bright crimson that Cynder had turned - “every single time I looked at him I could just picture that massive cock of his just ramming into me, over and over again until I couldn’t even walk right for a whole day. And honestly, when the whole mountain thing happened? Gods, it was even better than I could’ve imagined! Like every fuck dream you’ve had came to life and fucked itself only to make it even better before ramming you into the ground and riding you dry…” It took a few seconds for Spyra to realize what she had just said, at which point she brought a hand to her mouth and widened her eyes, wondering if she had, in fact, just said all of those things. Sweat poured down her brow when she turned around to see Cynder, looking to be about as embarrassed as Spyra was and glowing an even brighter red than usual. The two women looked at one another for an embarrassingly long amount of time, at which point they seemed to come to the mutual agreement that never, in the history of time, would that sudden outburst of Spyra’s ever so much as try to leave that room. Both of them were content in such an arrangement and took the time to calm down; Spyra by opening the fridge and sticking her head inside, Cynder by bringing both hands between her legs, having figured the best way to deal with the urges would be to simply… indulge them. Once everything was settled, the two could get down to business and eat lunch, which they did in utmost silence and without so much as a single exchanged glance between them. Anything of the sort would inevitably result in some kind of slip-up, and considering the one that had just taken place, neither dragoness wanted to take the risk of triggering the next one. It was honestly surprising how they managed to last until the very last bite before anything of substance happening, and even then it was just Spyra offhandedly mentioning that she had been meaning to learn transfiguration and self-modification magic since before the “mountain thing” happened. Cynder took this to mean that her friend was open to the idea of accepting her offer, and so suggested the two head out to the fields outside of town in order to have enough room. Spyra said nothing, looking very intently at her empty plate instead. She wanted to say yes, but knew that was a fast track to losing control, and losing control meant potentially worsening the sanctions she already had levied at her. It was unbearable enough as it was to know that she was as big as that place she burst free from and had to constantly live at a much smaller size, she could barely even imagine what it would be like with further punishment thrown on top of it. But it was either that, or rely on the kindness and forgiveness of others to take the necklace off some time in the future… and given that Cynder had effectively made size alteration magic the new taboo subject around town, that was unlikely to happen. The compressed dragoness nodded, waving towards the door. Her friend, already sighing in relief, took charge and led the way outside, having to turn back around at the last instant after remembering she was still completely naked. Not that this would’ve made much of a difference; everyone already knew who they were, what they looked like and why exactly they should give them the stink-eye, thus making it merely a formality for them to hold onto their decency. Honestly, given all the hostility everyone was giving them, they wondered whether or not they should have just gone nude, really own up to what they did; certainly helped that a few eyes began to turn towards them with something other than annoyance or anger, the vaguest hint of suppressed lust glinting within them. This was to be expected, really; how could everyone unanimously agree to hate a couple of beautiful specimens such as themselves? The only thing really stopping them from fully flaunting their stuff in the most direct way possible was the threat of further action on the part of the local authorities; otherwise, the two dragonesses would be spending their time hip-checking everyone onto the ground and inviting all comers to nestle within their bosoms. Frankly, it felt like a waste for them not to; why even have bodies like those if they weren’t going to use them to their fullest extent? It’s not like Volt had any kind of monopoly over them, nor would they ever accept such a thing being imposed upon them; “share the love” were the keywords of the day. It was a shame they couldn’t just stop to show off to everyone, or else they would’ve gladly spent several hours doing nothing but posing for whatever passed for adoring fans, taking pictures and signing autographs and whatever else their lust-addled brains thought they’d be doing. In reality, they’d be lucky if they had even a single bashful comment directed at them; people were either too pissed at the destruction of property or far too cowed by the duo’s intimidating presence to really do much of anything with them, but at least this sort of self-inflicted distraction was enough to keep the both of them busy with something other than groping themselves… even if their hands did float from one part of the other’s body to another with disturbing ease. It was almost too good to pass up; to Cynder, Spyra was there, and to Spyra, Cynder was there. To not enjoy their shapely forms would be akin to making them go to waste, and if there was something neither of them were, it was wasteful; this was the rationalization they had chosen for themselves and they were sticking with it, even if it flew in the face of basic, observable reality. They weren’t just horny; they were being responsible. Once outside the boundaries of their hometown, the two could finally get down to business doing something about Spyra being unable to control her own size. It had been a problem ever since the mountain incident, and something she was interminably embarrassed by; Cynder had deliberately taken advantage of this in order to get closer to Volt, sure, but even she could see how much it affected her friend now. Her body wasn’t really flat, especially after how much Volt had gotten to it the previous night; even with the necklace on, Spyra could easily outsize just about anyone else she met! With a pair of breasts covering most of her chest and offering a frankly indecent amount of backboob, an ass that could serve as its own beanbag and dared any chair to even try and hold it back without cracking in half, and a set of flared hips and thickest of thighs that would swallow up just about any hand that was bold enough to sink into them, it was hard not to see her as some kind of icon of fertility. The only thing missing was the milk, and Cynder was reasonably certain her friend could get started on that if she really wanted to, were it not for the mess and inherent difficulty in stopping if it turned out to be even remotely pleasurable. All that said, both of them were painfully aware of just how little this was representative of her true size, the one that had destroyed the mountain hiding those magic crystals and continued to grow to this very day, the size that had only gotten even more ridiculous once it, too, absorbed plenty of Volt’s cum. The size that, for all intents and purposes, had been stolen from her by people who were more interested in preserving the landscape than doing anything more productive with their time. It was downright criminal to hide something like that from the world; unlike Cynder, whose magic had more or less made sure she didn’t even have a set of proportions she liked to call her baseline, Spyra couldn’t help being that big. It was mostly the result of a bunch of weird gems whose origins none of them knew about, to be fair, but it was still something outside of her control; she couldn’t have guessed they were going to turn her into a behemoth, after all. Thus, it was only fair that she be given some degree of choice over just how large her body should be… even if they both knew the answer to that would always be “as big as possible.” “Ok, first things first,” Cynder spoke up, positioning herself so she was facing her friend from a few feet away, “we’re going to start working through the necklace. Can’t take it off right now, so what we’re gonna do is try to warp our magic while taking it into consideration. It should be easy enough for you, given that you actually have mass to draw from, while I had to fiddle something out from complicated enchantments and… stuff I’d rather not remember because of how headache-inducing it was.” “Didn’t you spend years working on it though?” Spyra questioned, looking and sounding disappointed already, “What exactly am I gonna do on an afternoon?” “I spent years on it because the textbooks are terrible and insist you go through a great number of basics that won’t actually help you here,” the other dragoness scoffed, knowing full well what she just said was a blatant misrepresentation of the truth, “in your case, we just need to figure out a way to safely draw upon what you already have and bring it forth without it being too… explosive.” “Ex… plosive…?” “You know, so you don’t… run into buildings and flatten the town or whatever” - Cynder’s own memories of almost doing that herself were not helping her attempts at keeping herself composed, something plainly visible from how hard she was blushing - “after all, you did almost flatten a mountain, so what hope do bricks have against you?” “I… guess you have a point?” - Spyra looked more confused and lost than ever - “But if that’s the case, wouldn’t we need to actually release some of it while we’re practicing? Because we’re really close to the town if that’s the case.” “Not to worry, I can keep you under control myself!” Cynder confidently declared, “All I need you to do is tune your magic with mine and I can help you with whatever you need to maintain the stability of the morphing spell. If anything goes wrong or you lose control of it all, I can step in and make sure that you don’t suddenly break free of the necklace. Sound fair?” Spyra didn’t look all that convinced, but something was telling her that letting go of that opportunity would cost her dearly down the line. Not much she could do now as well, given she had just walked through town precisely in order to learn the secrets of bodymodding from a very eager dragoness; it’d just be rude to back away at the very last second. Not only that, but Cynder was offering to synch up their magical energies in order to take the lead; this not only required a great deal of concentration and focus, but also signalled to Spyra that her friend meant business. That sort of intimate contact wasn’t offered lightly, as tapping into someone else’s energy like that was seen as a very… intimate gesture, far more than simple intercourse would be. For Cynder to gladly offer it up was, therefore, a sign that she truly believed Spyra was capable of pulling through; whether that meant she was a visionary or just a plain old idiot was still to be seen. “Alright,” Spyra agreed, “let’s do this.” The dragoness sunk her claws into the ground, bracing herself for what she was certain was going to be a large, powerful impact; they’d never actually shared their power like that before, so the realization that it was far more of a trickle than a flood left her feeling quite embarrassed at her display… and slightly disappointed that it wasn’t nearly as “meaningful” as she thought it would be. Yes, she could feel every inch of Cynder’s body as if it were hers, but even as she waited and allowed the realization to set in, Spyra really couldn’t understand why people didn’t do that more often. After all, the sensations were unbelievably powerful, being able to truly understand what the other dragoness felt, knowing her curves like they were her own, feeling every inch of her soft, supple skin, her rounded breasts, her fat as- “Spyra,” Cynder called out, snapping her out of her funk, “some measure of decency, please.” It took that comment before the other dragoness realized she’d been openly fondling herself, having already removed her top to do so. Given some time to reflect, it was obvious where the switch had taken place, leaving Spyra feeling mighty embarrassed at being unable to control her urges like that. Cynder was obviously having to fight back quite a few things herself, given how much her legs were quivering, but at least she held her composure for long enough to clear her throat and center herself, allowing the two of them to get started on their actual exercises. “Alright,” the sorceress carried on, “now I’m going to need you to follow my lead in some breathing exercises, Spyra. Just do what I do…” Thus the two began their studies, working in tandem so that Cynder could show her friend how to adequately control the flow of mass in and out of her body. As she had predicted before, it was turning out to be surprisingly easy for the compressed dragoness, who had ample stores of herself to draw from; it was merely a question of learning how and when to “shut the gates,” as it were, giving her body just enough leeway to burgeon outwards with some of her true size before halting the process just when she wanted to. This much was actually very simple; it was the reverse that proved to be significantly harder, given Spyra’s natural resistance to shrinking. By all means, having an artifact like the necklace there should make turning her smaller supremely easy, but seeing as magic was mostly guided by intent and will, having to fight against her base desires to become ever larger and not a single inch tinier meant that “venting” some of her size back into the compressor field turned out to be an immense challenge. The two had to work through a great amount of complaining and a stupendously childish tantrum, but eventually managed to find a way for Spyra to focus on something long enough to distract her from how “painful” shrinking herself was to her psyche. The end result was a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth, but nothing that a well-aimed bap to the back of the head wouldn’t fix. It quickly became obvious, however, that despite Spyra taking to the lessons marvelously quickly, there was still something in the way, something that wasn’t just her deliberately trying to push her limits as far as they could go. The necklace itself, nominally there to contain her size and restrain her ability to change it, was turning out to be a much bigger obstacle than it was any help; Cynder despised the use of simplistic charms like that, as they had a tendency to hamstring proper mastery of the magical arts with brutish approaches and poorly-worded enchantments. If Spyra was to truly learn how to alter her size, then that thing had to go; otherwise, she’d be stuck constantly battling it for dominance, with even her shrinking herself at times going much farther than she wanted thanks to the charm being built to focus in that “direction.” Unfortunately, Spyra was still too scared of the consequences to consider taking it off; what if it wasn’t the necklace’s fault? What if it was her, what if she hadn’t learned her lessons as well as Cynder constantly insisted she did? She wasn’t quiet about it either; Cynder herself had to give up at one point and physically yank the necklace off her friend’s neck purely because she wouldn’t shut up about how much she wasn’t ready about it. And… she was. Rather than an explosion of growth that flattened a significant chunk of the town behind them, Spyra simply jumped up to about twelve feet in height with a proportional set of curves before her friend “caught” her and blocked the rest of the spurt, leaving her perfectly stable and no longer at risk of demolishing anything she was around. True, there was still some training that had to be done before they could safely decouple and Spyra could be expected to walk around on her own without going completely crazy, but just the fact that the dragoness had her restraining bolt removed from her and still wasn’t as large as a mountain was, in itself, massive progress. What followed were a couple more hours of learning how to adequately perform the same spells they had been practicing without drawing any power from the protective charm, a process that took significantly less effort than Cynder imagined it would now that Spyra had the added benefit of enthusiasm and self-assurance from the necklace finally having been removed. She was still too enthusiastic for her own good, but the sorceress slowly came to believe that, if nothing else, she could trust her friend not to grow to be as large as a mountain again… at least not until she had to go fix it again. But that was a problem for another day. Now, there were hugs to be had. As soon as both of them were adequately convinced that they could go their separate ways in terms of magical control, they slowly relinquished their hold on one another, being careful enough not to snap the tether immediately, lest they need to very quickly stop Spyra from turning too large. To both their relief and mild surprise, the larger dragoness actually succeeded in reducing herself back to her usual height immediately after their connection was severed… though she did also give her tits and ass a lot more weight to compensate, turning into some kind of exaggerated hourglass too. It was exactly the kind of thing Cynder had expected out of her, but a good student was a good student regardless of how depraved they were, and Spyra had been one of the best she’d ever seen. Without a moment of hesitation, the two dragonesses flew into one another’s arms again, sinking into their respective pudge while allowing their bodies to plump up just enough to let the other know how much they were enjoying it. Getting back home was going to be a problem now that their clothes were ruined, but they didn’t need to worry about that too much; not like the whole town hadn’t already seen both of them completely naked. It wasn’t until they turned around and left for their home that the horizon began to fill up with something that wasn’t them. How they would’ve reacted to it would be a mystery for the ages, given neither dragoness thought to look back; if they had, they would’ve seen Ember and Volt, off in the distance, right at the point where their growth began to peak and the two were experiencing their collective climax. The two dragonesses even went so far as to dismiss the rumbling they felt and heard as being something to do with a malfunctioning portal, allowing their precious dragon to ravage a large chunk of the forest with his body and that of his lover’s without either of the two gals being remotely aware of it. One wondered what would happen when they learned of it.

Shattered Shards: Witch's Ward Natsumi stood on the doorstep shaking; her teeth clenched tightly, a blush upon her face. She took in deep breaths, trying to calm herself, trying to work up the nerve she would need for the task ahead of her. She ran her fingers over her short, cotton candy pink hair, a reminder of what she had gone through in the preceding weeks. She sighed softly and winced, slowly raising her hand to knock on the door, which opened a moment before her hand moved forward. She gasped softly, her eyes going wide as the store's owner startled her, the taller woman finding her own actions amusing. "I never get tired of doing that." She said with a chuckle, "Now, what brings you to knock upon the door of my home just as I'm settling down for dinner?" "I... I..." Natsumi stuttered, trying to get out the words. The mocha skinned store owner looked down at the skittish young woman upon the doorstep, her grin widening, "I expect you have something to say? An apology perhaps for something you did around a month or so ago?" Natsumi's blush deepened and she nodded, "I'm s-sorry. I-it was part of my initiation into the Thieves' Guild, ma'am. I was supposed to take some things from your store without getting caught." "And for a time you thought you did, didn't you?" The girl nodded, "Y-yeah, but then..." she sighed, "Anyway, the Guild doesn't want me anymore. They were the only ones that expressed interest in me at the hiring fair." New Waterdeep's monthly hiring fair, where those seeks jobs and apprenticeships would gather and anyone looking for employees in the manner of Old Aerth would present the potential hire with a scroll with their expected duties and location. Though most places handed out modern business cards, the Thieves' Guild however, slipped them into the pockets of potential trainees, the vanishing ink making the card blank if the target didn't find it upon their person within a few minutes. "And?" the shopkeeper asked, one brow raised, "This has to do with me how?" Natsumi seemed to shrink, drawing back and making herself look as non-threatening as possible, her face in a wince, her muscles tight, expecting to be struck for her impertinence for daring to speak the words she did. "I was wondering if you wanted an apprentice for your spellcraft, ma'am." She said through clenched teeth. The effects of the witch's magic upon Natsumi were obvious to anyone who had laid eyes upon her. The first alteration had shown itself as the girl's hair had grown out, her natural mousey brown replaced by a hot, shocking pink at the roots, several shades more vibrant, but still recognizable as the cotton candy she'd stolen from a street vendor a few blocks from the witch's shop. The guild had lopped off her hair the moment it was discovered that Natsumi's theft had not quite gone as undetected as she thought. She was left with nothing but memories for her natural hair color. But the candy hadn't merely colored her hair, it had taken its toll upon the figure of the formally scrawny, narrow thief-in-training. Her hips and rump had grown larger over a span of two weeks, to the point where she needed to buy pants several sizes larger in order to be comfortable. It looked rather ludicrous for awhile, but then the item that she'd stolen from the witch's shop kicked in. Flat chested and rather shy about it, Natsumi had stolen a tube of bust enlargement cream, which had its advertised effect. The girl's bust had expanded, and expanded, and expanded. They were now twice as large as the poor girl's head, and drew attention to here wherever she went. Pickpocketing and general sneak thievery were out of the question, and they made her a bit unsteady and ungainly for anything requiring precision or agility. They got in the way when she tried to pick locks; they blocked her view of trapped tiles on the floor and anything else below her chest for that matter. In short the witch's curse has made quite sure that Natsumi would not be stealing from anyone ever again. She looked ridiculous, with breasts close to the size of beach balls and a rear like two thirds of the same all placed upon a five foot tall frame that was never meant to hold three digits worth of weight. The witch blinked, her turn to be surprised, "I was expecting you to tell my that you'd learned your lesson and would be asking for me to lift the curses I placed upon you so that you could take on a new career, not ask me for employment." Natsumi shook her head, "I'm not expecting you to undo the changes that my own actions caused. I did a little study into magic in the Guild's library, and to be honest, it sounds more interesting and challenging than petty theft and robbery. I figured you might prefer me working off my debt to you and learning how to break the curses on my own to me showing up on your doorstep and whining and begging to be changed back." The witch's smile returned, "You figured correctly. And while I wasn't expecting fortune and fate to provide me one so soon, I had been thinking about acquiring an apprentice to help me with some of the day to day tasks of the store. You can have one of the upstairs bedrooms. I have some old clothes that I can enchant to fit you, and you'll earn a small commission on anything you make or sell. Sound fair?" It was Natsumi's turn to look surprised; she hadn't expected to be offered what she had asked. Especially without being turned into a lizard or something. She nodded her head rapidly, "Y-yes ma'am!" she said softly. "Don't ma'am me, call me Chizura. I'm not one for formality, and you can tell that I'm not one for doing things the way most people do them, either. You already know my policy on shoplifting." She said with a wink. "Now come on in, dinner's ready. I had a feeling I was going to have company, so I went and made enough for two. Now, let's hear all about yourself, see if we can get a good indication of where to start your magical and alchemical training..." -o- Natsumi hummed happily to herself as she made her way toward the bathroom for her morning shower. Though she showered every night just before dinner, her morning shower was less about getting clean and more about getting herself fully woken up without the eye-widening rush that she got if she drank some of Chizura's coffee. The stuff was strong and using enchanted water in the mix likely didn't make things more palatable for Natsumi. She carried along her clothes for the day, a hand-me-down outfit from Chizura that the witch had altered to fit the young woman's frame through some minor sorcery. Though the witch stood a foot taller and had a slightly plump build, the girl's butt and bosom meant that a similar amount of material was used. Though the outfits were not something she'd consider fashionable, what with their bright colors and clashing patterns, they were rather comfortable. The material had been altered to take on the properties of spandex, making everything tightly hug and support her body. Today she wore one of Chizura's favorite color combinations, a mix of leopard print with the feel of velvet, combined with shiny, purple latex. It was a mix of sensations, soft and fuzzy, and smooth and sleek. She could see why her tutor enjoyed the fabrics. She supposed that people expected a bit of eccentricity from a witch and her apprentice, and brightly colored, clashing clothes were more agreeable than bright green skin, warts, and a collection of toads. Natsumi's eyes widened as Chizura appeared at the top of the stairs, heading for the bathroom as well, her skin indeed a bright green. Though on a second look, Natsumi saw that instead her teacher had just gotten a faceful of slime. "Second Tuesday of the lunar month, should've remembered. The local water elemental gets rather moody if you use too much of the solid ingredients for a potion." Chizura explained, "A little hot water, soap, and some scrubbing takes it right off the skin. I won't be but ten minutes." Natsumi blushed, "Um... it takes me a good twenty or thirty minutes to get fully washed up, ma'am." The water heater typically peaked at fifteen, slowly went from hot to warm until twenty five, and went quickly from warm to cold after that. The witch gave her apprentice a playful glare, "What did I tell you about using that word?" The girl blushed deeper, "S-sorry, Chizura!" she apologized. "Don't call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. And you know what they say, you're only as young as you think you are, and I think I've been in my mid twenties for a good three hundred years." Natsumi's eyes widened, she had suspected that the witch was older than she looked, but she hadn't been expecting her to be THAT old. Chizura did indeed look to be in her mid to late twenties. "I've been meaning to give that lazy salamander in the hot water heater a piece of my mind. He spends far too much time napping, and a snoozing salamander means tepid water for everyone in the evening." She said, beginning to strip of her slime-spattered clothes. "There's plenty of room in the shower, I think we can share." The witch said pleasantly, revealing more of her chocolate colored skin with each moment. "Ma'am I... er... Chizura..." Natsumi stuttered, her blush growing even worse, trying to find the proper words for what she was trying to say. The witch turned the shower on and took Natsumi's clothes from her grasp, placing them on the counter. With a quick motion she had the belt of the girl's bathrobe undone and her hands on Natsumi's shoulders, pushing her into the shower. "Oh hush, it's not like either of us has anything that we haven't seen before." The witch said, attempting to silence Natsumi's protests. The apprentice spun around, the words on the tip of her tongue, when she got a glimpse of her teacher in the full nude. She couldn't help but stare, Chizura had a stunning figure, too well-padded to be on the cover of any fashion magazines, but with her generous bust (which seemed to be somewhere on the borderline of too big to be natural, but not 'float-y' enough to be magically enhanced), exotic features, perfect skin, and deep purple hair, she was as gorgeous as Natsumi could expect anyone to be in real life. "I... I..." she sputtered, her gaze moving up and down her teacher's body. "Was wondering if the purple was my natural color? Well, it isn't, but neither is the green down there. I'm surprised that every hair I have isn't a completely different color than the others, all things considering." Natsumi remained silent, letting Chizura scrub off the mess of the magical accident, doing her best to avoid accidentally doing what she would typically do to wake herself up every morning. As a result she'd washed her hair, gotten most of her body lathered up and rinsed, all that remained was... "Oh what a putz I am!" Chizura said with a giggle, "Don't be ashamed about it, love, I've had knockers like yours before, for about a week before I managed to exorcise the air elemental from them, I know how sensitive they can be." Natsumi nearly turned red from head to toe, her head lowered as she stared at the base of the tub, or tried to, since her massive breasts were in the way. "Oh relax, don't be embarrassed! I should've figured that washing a pair of whoppers like these would be a bit more intense than usual, and a young woman would want her privacy while bathing. No wonder it takes you so long to wash up! You have all this..." Chizura absently ran her hands over the sides of Natsumi's breasts, moving up to the top, and then back down again. "All this that you have to get scrubbed and clean, and I bet that the way it feels drives you to distraction every time you have a go at it." Natsumi couldn't reply, she was panting, overwhelmed with sensation. Her own touches were typically lighter than Chizura's, the witch had sunk her fingers in a bit to the soft, spongy flesh. "Maybe showers would go faster if I washed these for you?" the witch asked, lathering up her hands with a bar of nope, not waiting for Natsumi's answer, but the girl had nodded her head. Chizura grinned and focused the spray of the shower head straight down before lathering up Natsumi's plentiful breasts. The apprentice's knees seemed to turn to water as her teacher groped and fondled her in the guise of bathing. The witch grinned and coaxed the girl downwards, having her sit in the tub. Natsumi's legs had nowhere to go but around her kneeling instructor's waist. She tried to hold it in, but it quickly became obvious that Chizura was more interested in teasing her student than actually getting her washed. "Loosen up, Natsumi!" Chizura said with a giggle, splashing water up onto the girl to wash away the suds, "If it feels good and you want to make a noise, just let it out! My word, if you keep it bottled in all the time no wonder you're in here twice a day doing this! You can't let your emotion out in little drips and drabs, dear." Chizura grinned and leaned down, running her tongue gently over Natsumi's breast, up to her neck, stopping just short of her lips. "Especially your fire-elemental emotions; you keep your need and your lust bottled up, they're just going to get hotter and hotter, under more and more pressure until you can't hold them in anymore and they burst." Natsumi did indeed feel like she was going to burst. She could feel her pussy throb, her nethers longing for contact with something, anything, as they slowly leaked the essence of her arousal. "Don't be afraid; just do what your body tells you is right." Chizura purred, her lips mere inches from Natsumi's own. The girl let out a soft, muted moan, turning her head away. "Don't think about what other people have told you is right, don't worry about what other people would think if they found out. You're going to be a witch, dearie, it's a position of power and respect. You dictate your own terms on just about everything around here." A purple lacquered fingertip gently coaxed Natsumi's gaze to meet her teacher's with the lightest of pressures upon her chin. She clenched her eyes shut and pressed her lips against Chizura's, tightening her legs around her teacher's waist, pulling her sex against the smooth, water-slicked skin of the witch's tummy. It was bliss, sheer, erotic bliss. It opened the floodgates within Natsumi, a deluge of trapped power rushing free from its prison. She felt the searing heat flow through her, blood flowing to the sensitive places in her body, making them swell and ache with need. "You see, my girl, this is just a month's worth of power. If you're going to be a witch, to have to tend to all your body's needs, to keep everything in balance. You can't just stuff your feelings into a dark part of your soul and only let them out when they suit you." Chizura ran her fingers through Natsumi's cotton candy hair, which had only recently grown long enough for the witch to be able to do so. "If we'd let this continue, some day you'd be out walking in the mall and you'd notice that each step you took made all your tender bits rub against your clothes in an annoying, but pleasurable way. You'd keep walking, trying to ignore it, paying no attention to that trickle of moisture down your legs." Chizura's lips moved downward, kissing Natsumi's neck, and then her breasts, alternating with each kiss. "And then it wouldn't be a trickle anymore, but a torrent. You'd head for the bathroom, but just short of it you just couldn't walk anymore. You couldn't stand it, you'd tear your shirt open, let these beauties swing free. You'd claw open your pants, to start to rub and caress yourself. You'd call out to other shoppers, begging for them to help you scratch your not so little itch." Natsumi had heard of incidents like that, heck, she'd actually seen a girl break down like that in the mall once. "Now, just let it come. Let the fire surge through you. It will burn, but the burn will not be one of pain. Let go of your last hold upon it, let the fires have free reign over you." The pink haired girl moaned loudly, giving voice to the pleasures within her, but she could still feel a pressure within herself, something that she was holding back. "Come on, my girl, just let it go. Admit it to yourself." Natsumi let out a loud cry, a wordless vocalization of the sweet pleasure and bitter frustration that coursed through her. She could feel herself on the very edge, needing just the slightest of nudges to get over, but she had something that tethered her, preventing her from that last fraction of an inch. Chizura leaned forward and whispered something into Natsumi's ear. The girl's eyes widened and the tether snapped. She clung tightly to her mentor as her body tensed and quivered under the throes of climax. The witch had been right; Natsumi did indeed find herself wanting to experience that terrible, embarrassing, humiliating, public breakdown. Not all of her wanted it, but there was a part of her that did. "A talented witch has to face the truth, face reality. She cannot lie to herself. Denying the urges of your inner darkness is something we all must do, but denying that there is such a darkness in the first place will do far more harm than good." Chizura explained, shutting off the now tepid flow of water. She stepped from the shower and offered her apprentice a hand to help her up. "Now, let's put all that fire you have surging around inside yourself to work before it drifts off back into the ether..." she said with a grin. -o- "Okay, and I'll just need you to sit right here and concentrate. You're the power source here. You just need to keep the water and fire mana coming." Chizura explained. Natsumi nodded and knelt within her portion of the circle. She'd helped her mentor with a few fusions before, taking a few magical items and electronic devices and uniting them into a single, functional unit. At the very base most magics didn't mix very well. You could make a crystal ball for communication, or you could make one for long distance vision, scrying as it was called, but making a single ball with both functions essentially multiplied the effort, resources, and difficulty that it took to create. Since the Joining of the Worlds, union magics like this had become easy to do, the energies from combining two planets, possibly two entire universes, lingered allowing for rituals like this to take place. It was simple, one merely needed to have the capability of channeling the raw amount of power needed. It wasn't particularly subtle; it was a brute force type of thing, but the more skill and refinement put into the task, the more effective the resulting device. A few percentage points of functionality or a more aesthetically pleasing end result. The processes could not be automated, and the individualized nature of each ritual casting made for varying results. It was easier for the companies to produce the parts, and allow after-market spellcasters to make a thriving business in putting them together. In this case the items were an old laptop computer, several upgrades for a desktop computer, a piece of bubble wrap, a paper-sized sheet of transparent plastic, and a rolled up scroll. The scroll was for shape, the computer parts for function, the clear sheet for substance, and the bubble wrap for texture, giving the 'keyboard' on the resulting incredibly light weight computer buttons that had tactile feedback, rather than mere flat runes upon the page. Natsumi had done a few item merges before, but never something with an element so complex as a computer before. Thankfully she was just the power supply for the spell. She merely closed her eyes and focused upon the fire within her. Fire was the driving element, the heat of the forge and smelter. Given great enough heat, anything would break down into its basest component form. But rather than physical heat, the power used by the ritual was sort of a mental heat; it took items down to the component ideas and mixed them together. That was what the water mana was for. The only substance found naturally in the three classical states of matter, it allowed for an easy transition between states when applied in the same manner. It allowed them to flow, to mix, to merge, to be easily shaped by a powerful will. While Natsumi had the focus to perform smaller and less complicated merges something like this was far beyond her ability. She had the brute force, but not the delicate touch required. She could feel Chizura drawing upon her power, could feel the surging heat slowly flowing from her spirit and out into the circle, where it mixed with the other elemental magics Chizura called upon for the ritual. But oddly when the heat had vanished completely from within Natsumi she felt it flowing back again, but dulled. The sensation was different, it wasn't the burn of a flame, but the insistent warmth of a fluid. Like a hot bath for the soul. She knew the feeling of this sort of power, the mix of manas used in the fusion ritual. Something had gone wrong, the circle must've been drawn with a flaw, Natsumi was being used as a subject as well, not merely as the provider of power! She opened her eyes and spun to meet the gaze of her teacher. Chizura grinned and winked at her. Natsumi looked down at the floor, the circles within the main circle were fake, the runes and designs within them blocking the flow of magic into them, rather than coax it inward. The only parts of the complex diagram that glowed where the main circle itself, and the two smaller circles that Natsumi and Chizura sat in. Natsumi's eyes widened, she recalled the sight of her teacher in the shower, the purple hair upon her head, and the green above her loins. If Chizura was indeed three hundred years old, and had retained her youth for that long, had it been through merging with younger girls? Stealing their youth and vigor for herself. Natsumi begin to stand, ready to break the circle, but Chizura spoke the last word, and the apprentice felt herself flow, her entire being turn to liquid and forced through a narrow pipe into some other place. It was disorienting, her sense going completely blank for several moments before they returned. She felt dizzy, awkward, like she had too many limbs and no idea where each of them was supposed to go. She tried to take a step, but fell over, landing oddly. It felt like she was doing the splits, but painlessly and... sideways? "Urgh," Chizura said, putting her hands to her head, "I thought I'd get it right with the dizziness this time." She muttered, "Ah well, maybe next time." The witch's voice came from Natsumi's right, but she felt it, she felt the hands upon Chizura's temples also. She turned her head and found her vision going purple, her teacher's long locks tickling her face. Natsumi shared a merged body with her mentor, two heads and necks upon a widened torso. Their clothes had merged, the patterns had been identical before, and they remained, perfectly formed for their fused flesh. The neckline had widened for their two necks, but ventured down a little lower than Natsumi was comfortable with, showing plentiful cleavage, which allowed her to see that Chizura's skin and her own were divided right down the middle. Her teacher's chocolate on the right, and her pale vanilla on the left. She still had both her arms and both her legs, and oddly enough so did Chizura. Beneath Natsumi's left arms was another, identical left arm, though she could only move one of them, her right arm was in its proper place on the other side of their shared body. Her legs on the other hand, felt all weird, it was like she had been folded sideways, her right leg placed immediately behind her left, which was exactly where it was. They had one pair of legs facing frontwards and one pair of legs facing backwards. And it felt like Natsumi's already plentiful breasts had grown even larger, she could feel the weight of them on top of Chizura's and her own front legs. She tentatively moved a hand over one, and found that her breasts hadn't gotten bigger, Chizura's had, and they were now placed below her own, which were seated as the upper pair. She wasn't quite sure how she knew which portions of their shared anatomy were 'hers,' as they all gave the same sensations, but she suspected it had something to do with instinctively knowing which bits of their merged anatomy she had no control over. "Sorry for the scare, Natsumi." Chizura said, "But I don't think many people would agree to this as a teaching method." "A teaching method?!" Natsumi said, stunned, "How does this help me learn anything?" "Simple, you can feel what I'm doing, and though you can't control my half of our body, you can learn the motions and movements much easier when I do them. You'll also be able to experience the same sensations I do when I draw upon power, when I release that power, just about every step in the spellcasting process." She said happily. "I've been doing this for a good two and a half centuries now; trust me when I say it works a lot quicker than doing things the old fashioned way." "Having teacher and student in two separate bodies isn't 'old fashioned!'" Natsumi shrieked, "It's the way things are supposed to be done!" Chizura scoffed, "Just because something has always been done in a specific way doesn't mean that it always needs to be done in that way, or that it's the best way. Now, get your legs underneath you and stand up, we have to buy groceries." Natsumi shook her head, "No way, I don't want to go out in public like this! And how do I know you're telling the truth about this being a teaching method; that you're not just leeching off my youth?" The witch chuckled, "Is that what you think I'm doing? Stealing someone's life force, their youth as it were, requires me to siphon off energy from your soul. So I'd either be taking bites out of it, leaving you separate from me so I don't hurt myself, or merge the two of us entirely into one spirit. "This is kind of a loophole for aging, the souls remain individual, but the physical form becomes one. You can only have one set of 'age' instructions on someone. Your biological clock keeps ticking on like normal, and while we're merged, mine rewinds until it eventually synchronizes with yours." Natsumi was quiet for a few moments, "Then you've essentially discovered the secret of immortality. Why haven't I heard of this before in stories?" "Are you sure you're reading the right stories, dear?" Chizura said with a chuckle, "I think the reason you haven't is because most magic users that wish to extend their lives beyond the normal limits are complete and utter selfish bastards. Before the Joining fusion magics were incredibly difficult and dangerous. Much easier to just put your soul into someone else's body." "I didn't think this up to extend my life; I came up with this method so I could teach a particularly clumsy student of mine how to cast properly. The fact that I get a decade or two knocked off every time I take on an apprentice is just a bonus. Now, let's try standing, okay?" Natsumi sighed and nodded, doing as her instructor said. It took a few tries, but she managed to get her feet beneath her. "Why are our legs like that?" the apprentice asked. "If we're going to part, I have to keep our combined mass about the same as that of two people. If we got rid of one pair of legs, I'd have to make us taller or heavier in some places in order to make up for it. "If we keep everything just about the same size as it is as individuals, muscle memory remains the same, making it easier to adapt to the combined body. Plus it looks better. Four legs in a row makes us too wide to sit in just about everything, three legs means adding more space in the middle of the body, and I think that looks awkward with just two people. Having them face the same way is kind of problematic at first as the apprentice learns to walk; we end up with a lot of stepped on heels." Chizura grinned, "Plus it feels kind of like a spider, all slinky and sexy." Natsumi blushed, "Oh... oh my..." The witch laughed, "Oh yes, dear, we're going to experience everything together. Including having to wash all four of these things." "Oh gods..." Natsumi whispered, her skin flushing scarlet. Chizura reached up, gently turning Natsumi's gaze to meet her own, "But I don't think that will be too much of a problem now, will it?" Natsumi smiled a little, "No ma'... er... Chizura." She replied. 250 years and dozens of different designs later, Chizura always made sure of one thing in her fused form with her students; that their torso was just wide enough to allow the two of them to kiss. It worked wonders on silencing protests and emboldening bashful students. And it felt positively wonderful.

The door closed behind them, sealing the two from the outside world and quite conspicuously activating the house’s dimensional compression system at the same time, though not yet distorting any of the space inside of those walls just yet. The lynx out in front had the toothiest grin imaginable stamped on their face, though the stud behind them wasn’t too far off; given the reason why they were even there, it was hard to fault the two for having all sorts of unwholesome things in the brain, especially given the sort of verbal foreplay they got up to before heading back to the cat’s home. Said feline didn’t waste any time heading directly to the living room, forgoing the use of their bed for a much wider (and compressible) area, betraying just what sort of activities they were expecting the two of them to get up to; Zeus, being Zeus, followed them while taking off their coat at earliest convenience, leaving them in nothing but a t-shirt and pair of jeans, neither of which did anything to hide their sculpted and quite well-endowed body. By sharp contrast, the grey-furred lynx was quite plain, banal, even featureless in some ways, the very embodiment of “mundane” and “average”... though not for long. Tim had been selling Zeus on the idea that they would be having full control of the proceedings for the better part of two months by that point, given how long the two had spent texting, sexting and whatever else with one another. Thousands upon thousands of highly imaginative and not at all family-friendly words exchanged between them and all that the pegasus really got out of it was that he’d managed to find the one shapeshifter on the planet that was not only fully onboard with his own ideas, but somehow managed to surpass him in sheer horny energy, an achievement and a half on its own. Thus, it didn’t at all strike him as surprising when his host, the moment the two of them were safely inside their living room, twirled around to face him and was already fully nude by the time they finished the pirouette; their body was incredibly bland and lacking in any sort of… anything, really, being nothing more than a proverbial plank of wood that carried nothing of interest on it. This wasn’t important though, since as Tim had more than once reminded Zeus, they deliberately chose this aesthetic in order to avoid the logistical issues that came with truly putting their inner self on display, plus it served to confuse people whenever they wanted to get a bead on just what the cat even was; all the feline had to do was carefully shift their facial features to keep people guessing, occasionally adding and removing pudge in just the right spots to confuse everyone around them for no reason other than their own personal amusement. It made for a good couple of chuckles during the two’s lunch date, but it mostly served as a reminder of just how perfect a control the lynx had over their own body, and just how much they were willing to change themselves should the opportunity arise; an opportunity that the two had just created the moment they closed the front door behind them. The cat had promised Zeus that he’d be able to “sculpt” and “mold” their form, that he’d be able to reshape and refine it until it was “to specification”, just the right kind of curves and proportions that tickled the stud’s pleasure centers in the right kind of way to get him all hot and bothered for when the two had to get frisky. It took a bit before Tim broke through the pegasus’ curtain of awkwardness though; for someone who was so normally upfront about what they liked and how much they enjoyed it, the concept of being able to just create their perfect mate seemed to press the right combination of buttons to make the stallion quiver and shake all over, not knowing what to do when given such a splendid gift from an equally splendid source. As for the lynx, they were just happy to have found someone who could give them a run for their money in the lewdness department; so often they had to deal with subpar partners and would-be lovers whose tastes could only be defined as blasé at best, and downright mediocre at worst, that having that pegasus there in front of them was making their knees feel weak, doubly so when Zeus actually stepped forward and placed his hands on their body. The stud would find the cat’s fur to be amazingly smooth and silky, almost as if its owner had just come out of a full-day spa treatment, and their body itself to be remarkably pliable and malleable; it was solid, of that there was no doubt, but it had so much squish to it that it betrayed the sort of transformative powers that were just waiting to be triggered by a particularly size-lusting pegasus such as himself. Gulping down once, then twice, Zeus took up position behind his would-be lover for the day, wrapping his arms around the lynx and bringing them into a tight, incredibly warm hug… all while his hands met with the feline’s non-existent breasts, cupping breasts that weren’t there as he whispered sweet nothings into Tim’s ear about how amazing they’d look with a pair of tits big enough to cover their whole torso. “Say when,” the cat whispered back, giving Zeus a dangerously toothy grin just as their chest began to warm up, their nascent bust pushing out against the stud’s hands as it not only filled his palms, but very quickly overflowed from between his fingers as well! The pegasus felt himself going from a half-mast to fully turgid in mere seconds, his jeans ripping apart at the seams already seeing as he “forgot” to bring the reinforced ones he usually wore whenever he actually wanted to remain decent; if the lynx bothered to look back, they’d be able to see plenty of cockmeat bulging out from the many tears in the denim, but fortunately they were too busy focusing on making their tits burgeon outwards, the pair rising like dough underneath the pegasus’ attentive fingers, pushing out so much that soon enough Zeus wouldn’t even be able to cover their areolae with his whole hand! Bigger and bigger they grew, kept going thanks to the stud’s unwillingness to tell the cat to stop, too mesmerized by how those things slorshed and churned heavily after starting to produce cream of their own, jutting out from both sides of Tim’s torso until the amount of sideboob was wider than the lynx’s upper body. Bigger and bigger they grew, heavy and teardrop-shaped, covering most of their body, until finally Zeus snapped back to reality and hastily demanded that they stop… which they instantly did. The cat wasted no time in turning around to show off their new body to the one person responsible for it, forcing the stud to take several steps back once he saw that colossal bust spinning towards him. It was… it was something beyond enormous, so big that it occupied almost as much room between the two of them as he himself was tall; practically six feet of breastflesh just begging to be kneaded and worked over by experienced hands, and yet all the feline could do was tilt their head to the side, raise an eyebrow and offer their mate a quizzical expression, to which Zeus could only really mindlessly nod at, no longer worrying about the consequences of his unbridled lust. Not two seconds later, those gigantic tits began to rise upwards, though not because they were growing again; rather, a second pair had blossomed underneath them, leaving the poor cat stuck behind a titstack was definitely taller than either of them were, and wobbled visibly with each moment, four head-sized teats budding with milk droplets that fell heavily on the ground and told Zeus everything he had to know about what sort of body he had helped to create. Each heartbeat made those monsters, already big enough to completely cover most of the pegasus’ field of view, pulsate and throb, threatening to grow even larger if Zeus wasn’t careful… and he wasn’t even done with the preparations yet. The cat kept giving him that sly, toothy grin, the kind that only exposed a corner of their mouth and invited the pegasus to come hither and accentuate their figure even more. Zeus couldn’t help but notice that the feline’s features were also quite a bit more feminine than they had been before, and the few words of encouragement they provided came with a more melodious and soft tone than before, playing far too deeply into his own fantasies of having such an amazingly well-endowed partner to play around with; clearly, when the lynx told him that they were in the business of pressing buttons, they weren’t kidding around, because the moment the stud walked around them and planted both hands firmly on their hips, he could already tell that they were pudgier than before, and indeed responded quite quickly to his touch, flaring outwards at a pace quick enough to let the pegasus know that he’d have to keep his wits about him or risk ending up with a lover who, forget about fitting through doors, wouldn’t even fit in the room to begin with! This was easier said than done, given that the stallion’s cock was already free from its confines from all of that visual and tactile stimulation, and given where it ended up pressing itself, the feline took the opportunity to start expanding their butt as well, shoving mass into their ass until even Zeus’ shaft was being consumed by its immense pudge. In fact, this ended up being their salvation, as the cheeks pushing back against the pegasus’ body became so large that he couldn’t keep his hands on those deliciously wide hips, forcing the lynx to stop, though the colossal rear they sported still went through some more expansion while the stud tried desperately to dislodge his cock from within that crevice in front of him. By the end, the cat was left more or less sitting down even while standing up, and after they equalized their hips with a snap of their fingers, turning those things into wide, soft slabs of impossibly thick meat that were about as massive as the cheeks behind them, that’s when Zeus completely lost control of himself. The pegasus’ nuts slammed against the ground, filling to capacity and beyond just from the display of growth happening in front of him, all while his cock, already at full mast, underwent a secondary growth spurt and promptly smacked the ceiling, knocking Zeus back against the ground as he struggled to even breathe when presented with such an immense plush toy to play around with. And then… they turned around. Such a simple gesture on the lynx’s part, and yet one that completely and utterly shattered whatever remained of the stallion’s mental resistance; given their size, girth and weight, even something as simple as slightly glancing to the side caused such an immense amount of noise, be it from the wobbling flesh, the clapping cheeks or the four churning tits attached to their chest, that it was impossible for Zeus not to be overwhelmed by all of it. But of course, Tim wasn’t merely turning their head around, but their whole body, and the resulting thundering and shaking of the room, the looming form of the engorged lynx, those glistening bedroom eyes that shone in the small amount of dark created by their body blocking out the light coming in through the window, that hungering smile of pearly white, shiny teeth, all of it screamed “Fuck me” from top to bottom, a desire that not only had to be fulfilled, but needed to be as well. It was a law of nature: that cat needed to get railed. What a stroke of luck then, that they ended up being about as squishy and impact-resistant as their body seemed to suggest they were, how lucky that they took the stallion directly head-on and only replied with a slight bit of bouncing before allowing themselves to topple backwards, offering their entire bustline and two cleavages for Zeus to shove his colossal rod into and thrust to his heart’s content. How lucky that their ass and thighs were so unbelievably fat that they served as a perfect platform for the stallion to climb onto, giving him something to sink his hooves into in order to have as much leverage as he needed to shove his hands into the lowermost pair of tits and start frantically jackhammering into the tight confines of the four milk-makers that were, all together, taller than he himself was. And how lucky that the door was locked, the dimensional compressors were activated, and thus the cat could work towards putting all of that delicious, nutritious spunk already spurting from Zeus’ tip towards even more of themselves: more titflesh, more thigh, more ass, more leg, more milk, more everything, slowly bloating in every direction and even going so far as to outright increase their own height in order to better carry all those oversized assets, giving the stud a living canvas upon which to paint their masterpiece… and quite literally so, at that. If not for the lynx’s body being so heavily absorbent, there was no doubt in either of their minds that the living room would’ve been flooded in cum already, or at least had a significant portion of it left creamy white after the stallion’s furious ministrations began in earnest. But, once again luckily, it just so happened that Tim was more than happy to take every last drop and have it sink into their body, each load glistening ever so slightly on their fur for a few seconds before being thoroughly taken away and reprocessed into even more cat for the stud to play around with. In many ways, it was like being surrounded by body pillows in every direction, a marshmallow-like heaven from which no one with half a brain would ever think to run away from… hence why Zeus’s immediate reaction to it was to try and find a way to make it even bigger and more constricting, to add to the growth until it went out of control and the two of them were left stranded and stuck inside the lynx’s living room, the lynx themselves far too big to move or dislodge either of them from within the comfy, warm folds of their immense body. And, despite the obvious risks inherent in making such a wish come true, the feline was excited to finally have a partner that could make such a thing come true, especially one as productive and eager to fill them as Zeus was. Perhaps, they thought, they could finally feel satisfied by the time they were done. For the time being, however, the two had better things to worry about, things such as finding just how stretchy the cat happened to be or how big the stallion could make himself before his body gave out and his poor heart stopped working given the sheer amount of blood it had to pump to keep him at those sizes. Perhaps it was the dimensional compressors working their magic, or the feline’s very presence that caused such changes, but Zeus was finding himself quite a bit bigger than usual, even if it wasn’t altogether unusual for him to go through two growth spurts whenever he was sufficiently aroused, especially around bigger partners. The first one was the same kind that every other male of his kind experienced when subjected to bog-standard sexy thoughts, merely magnified tenfold by his being well-endowed, and the second one was reserved exclusively for hypers of his breed, the kind whose sole, main motivator once the clothes came off was to, well, breed; thus, their bodies often went through a second period of explosive growth, where not only did their shafts practically double in size (if not more), but their nuts filled with seed to such a degree that cases of breeders becoming immobilized if blue-balled weren’t exactly unheard of. Not that Zeus would have to worry about that last one, of course; if there was anyone in that room more eager to be filled, it was that colossal cat that he was riding on, the very same one who had turned a simple exercise in lewd sculpting into one of excessive self-indulgence and maddening growth, to the point where the pegasus couldn’t even tell which way was down or where on their body he happened to be. Sometimes he’d look up and notice what had to be the curvature of a breast, but then turn to the side and swear he was looking at a thigh, or even an asscheek. Sometimes he felt as if he was thrusting into the two cleavages the lynx sported and yet somehow he was getting splashed with milk from behind him, thoroughly confusing him for a few seconds until the fluids began to pour down from in front. Even more perplexing was the fact that things actually made sense if he bothered to slow down just enough that he could actually take in what was going on around him, as if Tim was deliberately playing on his level of awareness to become more or less solid and sensical, allowing themselves to turn into a pseudo-blob of curves and excessive proportions whenever they felt their lover was sliding down to the realms of pure muscle memory. Perhaps if Zeus were in a better state of mind he might’ve cracked a joke about Schrodinger's Cat, but as most of his brain was dedicated entirely towards focusing on the rutting, the one thing he could think about at that point was how curious that, no matter how hard he tried, he could never find an “end” to the lynx’s body; just more pudge, more curves, more softness, more warmth, more silky fur, more love to be had. Meanwhile, he was hounded by their voice no matter how loud he himself was. The plapping and wet thwapping of his nuts against… pretty much anything that happened to be around him was loud enough to drown out his own thoughts, and yet the stallion could still hear Tim’s squeaking moans and their cries for more regardless of how hard he put his all into his mad, frantic pistoning; worse still, the voice seemed to come from everywhere around him, fitting given that he himself was surrounded on all sides by a body that appeared to grow in large, misshapen bursts of size that made no sense until he actively tried to make some out of them. Not that he did; the only focus was on finding soft flesh to hang onto and more of it to thrust himself towards, and there was never any shortage of that, nor was the lynx anything less than immediately responsive. If Zeus even so much as thought about having his room-length cock surrounded by breastflesh on every side, suddenly he’d find himself titfucking those two pairs of enormous milk makers, his hands sunk all the way up to the elbow in the titanic tanks of cream while still feeling their embrace on every other part of his body. If he wished to be plowing that deliciously pudgy rear of theirs, then suddenly he’d be looking at a massive cat, splayed out in front of them with their ass sticking up, looming over him and all-but commanding the stallion to come and get it, to shove his shaft directly between those room-sized cheeks and fill them as best as he could. And, if by some random chance Zeus just so happened to desire something a bit more intimate, something that would truly satisfy his breeder’s instincts to the point where he’d be forcing his body to approach a third growth spurt, then what else would he be looking at other than two gigantic thighs on each side of him, their legs spread apart to give him a perfect view of a love tunnel that was nothing if not irresistible, enough that the stud’s own body seemed to react to it automatically by moving itself forward and thrusting its cock directly into the surprisingly tight and welcomingly warm slit. If there was anything that Zeus regretted, it was his inability to give the lynx everything that he could. Were the feline any smaller, the stallion might just have grabbed both their legs, held them underneath his arms and twisted them until Tim was left sideways and wide open to a rutting powerful enough to leave them unable to walk properly for the following days to come. Maybe, if the pegasus was feeling particularly frisky, he would’ve just bent those things over until the cat’s feet were next to his ears and fucked that gorgeous giant(ess?) in a mating press that would last for hours on end. But instead, and for the first time in his life, it was him who found himself as the small one, surrounded on every side by curves and pudge that he had helped to create, that he had encouraged to exist purely for his own amusement; and while others might have found this prospect daunting, to Zeus it served as little more than a reminder that it was now his duty to show that cat just what he had in store for them, to prove that not only could he live up to the expectations that he himself helped create, but could surpass them as well. And as his brain was busying itself thinking these entirely useless and pointless thoughts, his body was already getting busy turning the lynx into yet another in the long gallery of partners who screamed for Zeus’ name so loudly their voice broke in half; the only difference being that, once it came back so they could beg for more, it kept turning more and more feminine with each word, each sound, almost like the cat was deliberately toying with the stallion’s transformative fantasies and turning themselves into the perfect broodmother that their lover so desperately wanted them to be. Really, the only thing left would be for them to actually get bred, but Zeus had serious doubts over whether that would even be possible. Still, the room kept expanding, its compression layers activating one after the other as the lynx continued to push against the limits of their own home, no longer caring about what they did or whether or not it was dangerous to do so. All that mattered was that Zeus was there, Zeus had a cock bigger than the living room itself had been before the spatial distortions were activated, and Zeus was more than happy to put it to good use even past the point where his body should have collapsed in on itself from pure exhaustion. It didn’t matter to either of them anymore; the lynx provided all the energy necessary, feeding the stallion via their nutritious milk without the stud even realizing it was happening, while the pegasus kept on doing what he did best: jackhammering into tight slits and grunting so loudly that Tim found their cheeks were blushing brightly enough for their warmth to be felt even without bringing their hands up to touch them. The two of them were very lucky that the apartment was soundproofed and thoroughly insulated, or else they would’ve had to deal with a dozen complaints about public disturbance and indecency even before they got to the point they were at right then and there, with the feline taking up most of the volume available within their living space and Zeus’ bucking causing so much spillage that, if not for the fact that the cat’s body was hyper-absorbent, then the drains on the floor would get their first proper workout in months, if not years; thankfully for everyone involved, Tim was more than happy to soak up every drop of cum being spilled on and in them, using them to improve upon their design even more, to bulge outwards and upwards until they were the physical manifestation of all of the stallion’s dreams and desires. Thus the two of them fell into a rut, and quite literally so, as their primal instincts took over and allowed their minds to wander while their actions grew rougher and more haphazard, their muscle memory no longer capable of holding back the rampant, mindless desire that left the two lovers in a state more befitting that of an animal or mindless beast than that of a thinking creature. They were lust and craving, love and carnal pleasure all wrapped up into one huge, colossal, girthy, veiny, throbbing, pulsating, churning, sloshing package that only grew in every quality with every second that passed and each motion of the pegasus’ hips that added more liquid fuel to the fire. Soon enough the alarm bells would start ringing, telling two people that did not care that the compression layers were reaching their first safety limit and that it was “recommended” that they slow down, something that both Zeus and Tim were more than happy to ignore. Their bodies wouldn’t last for much longer anyway; with the cat practically in full flow already, their overengorged physique practically imploding from the amount of pleasure it was feeling, and the stallion very much slamming into a brick wall in an attempt to break through it and achieve climax, it was only a matter of time until the latter exploded into the former and the two experienced true heaven, no longer caring about whether or not they would end up destroying the apartment building they were in or not. It was a genuine threat as well; given the size of them, and the lynx in particular, the whole complex would be reduced to rubble if the compressors built into the house were to give up even before the floodgates were open, making it more than a certainty that, should the whole thing fail to contain them, there would be so much damage that the happy couple would be paying it off for months to come. But they didn’t care. All that mattered was fucking and rutting, breeding and filling and growing until their physical forms could no longer take the physical and emotional beating, until the two of then ran headlong onto their edge and then flew off of it with abandon, happily throwing themselves off the cliff and down into the depths of depravity when they finally, at very long last, succumbed to the signals their brains were trying to give them and climaxed. It would’ve been bad enough if the lynx alone had gone through it, given that their orgasms tended to be of the “explosively growing” variety; the house itself began to groan and creak in every direction as its underlying structure was stretched to the breaking point just by the initial growth spurt, the compression layers struggling to keep up with what the cat was doing to them, even after deploying the second emergency stack of distortions and running their internal generators on maximum overclocking. It was difficult to tell just what exactly was growing, given their body had more or less lost most of its consistency and turned into an endless ocean of thighflesh, tits, asscheek and milk pouring all over everything, filling the room with nothing but hand-filling pudge for Zeus to personally enjoy. And this wasn’t even taking into account what Zeus himself did to that poor lynx. To call the stallion’s release “magnificently overblown” would itself be an enormous understatement. Even while constantly dripping with spunk through the course of their hour-long liaison with the feline, even while dumping gallons upon gallons of his fertile seed with each thrust, the stud’s nuts had continued to bloat and swell with unspent spunk, heralding just what kind of climax was in store for Tim once they broke through their lover’s barriers and forced them to unload completely. And indeed, the moment those things clenched and sent the first wave of cum flooding into the lynx’s womb, there was no stopping them from bwoompfing outwards and taking out just about everything but the very last and very strongest of emergency measures when it came to the spatial distortions keeping the two lovers on the inside of the house. Rather than attempt to adapt, this last-ditch system merely magnified the current size of the living room a hundredfold by cannibalizing every other compression device in the house, magnetically sealing the door to the living room it in order to preserve the integrity of the rest of the apartment when that one bubble was expanded to provide so much size that there was no realistic way that Tim could ever fill it all. But they did. In fact, not only did they fill it, but by the time Zeus was done and his explosive release was finished, there was no space left for anything but himself and Tim, all of the upholstery, shelves and even the bloody TV having been crushed into a thin layer of dust on a remote, tiny fraction of the lynx’s curves. Once finished, the stallion couldn’t even collapse; he was literally stuck, unable to move from just how much cat was all around him, surrounded on every side by warmth and softness, by the panting and gasping for breath of his over, whose voice was utterly unrecognizable from what it had been before. He knew, at that point, that he had finally done it: he was finished, he was satisfied, he was empty, for the first time in his entire life; like a veil had been lifted from his eyes, he now saw what it was like to experience a true orgasm, something that he had never really gone through before, a release of such unimaginable proportions that he actually felt spent for once. And the lynx wasn’t much better; their mind was an utter mess of confusing emotions and conflicting ideas, both wanting to go for a second round and recognizing that doing so would be impossible with how little stamina they had left. One thing, however, they knew for a fact: They weren’t done yet. There would be a round two… eventually.

Another empty bottle. It rattled quietly as the last of its contents were poured out onto the fox’s hand, a couple of lonely pills out of a few hundred, before the now-empty plastic container was thrown over its owner’s shoulder and landed with a gentle, slightly echo-y thud on the ground behind him. By that point in his life, the pills really didn’t do much besides stabilize his growth rate, but he had to take them anyway; better that his expansion remain steady than go completely out of control, no matter how many times he fantasized about otherwise. The last thing anyone wanted, or so his manager kept telling him, was for him to lose his mind and start going on a rampage after growing to a titanic size, because then the army would have to be involved, the government would need to look into things, and then the whole tax avoidance scheme he was running would be found out and who knew what kind of trouble he’d be in after that. Still, it was an interesting thing to think about whenever he had the time to do so, more often than not at night, just before bed, as he stared at the ceiling while bemoaning the fact that he was doing so completely by his lonesome. No one ever warned him that stardom came with plenty of asterisks attached to it, chief of which was the complete inability to ever know for certain whether or not someone was trying to get close to him because of his personality and out of a genuine desire to strike up a friendship, or purely because they wanted to taste a slice of the pie he had baked for himself over his many years of hard work. He wasn’t the only person on the planet with his condition, but he was the only one who had taken it and turned it into a multimedia franchise that already ranked its market capital in the tens of millions, making it depressingly difficult to sift through those who talked to him like he was Andy, and those who saw him as a walking wallet. That was, of course, until he met Rebecca. Rebecca was special. Unlike so many others who proclaimed themselves to be his “biggest fan”, only to utterly fail at actually answering any questions about the several movies he’d been in, this particular fennec fox decided that the first thing she would do after accidentally bumping into Andy during one of his “incognito” coffee runs (or at least as incognito as an eight-and-a-half foot giant could be) was to ask him what exactly he was thinking taking the role of Dr. Tenebrous in what had been deemed the “most disastrous B-movie remake in the past decade”. Considering his cover hadn’t been blown, and the question came literally out of nowhere when he was waiting by the counter with Rebecca by his side, it somehow bypassed all of his mental defenses, triggering an automatic response, the same one he gave to his own manager when they asked the exact same question: “I was a fan growing up. Plus they needed someone huge, so…” It was only after he replied that Andy caught himself, his eyes going wide as he tried to surreptitiously look around him to make sure no one had caught onto what had just happened. To her credit, Rebecca’s reaction was to give a couple of curt nods along with a knowing expression, as if to say “Fair enough” without actually uttering any words; she seemed content enough with it to just take her coffee, turn around and leave, and it was Andy who took the initiative in asking her to stay behind. The fennec seemed more surprised than she did starstruck, and indeed looked ready to ask him why she should do that when the giant fox realized he was making a scene; as quietly as he could, he mouthed the word “Please?” before turning around to take his own order. “Wouldn’t expect you to ask me to stop,” the vixen teased him back then, sitting down at a table far enough away from the line that Andy could sit with his back to it and hide from everyone, “especially with how inconspicuous you are.” “You’d be surprised what a shitty shirt, glasses and a baseball cap will do to people,” the fox remembered saying, “I once got my driver’s license renewed and even the clerk didn’t notice.” “One wonders how I noticed you, then,” Rebecca mused aloud, her voice sultrier than before. “Perhaps you’re my biggest fan.” “Absolutely not. At least not until you’re done with me.” Even looking back with the benefit of hindsight, Andy still couldn’t tell if that had been a deliberate ploy on Rebecca’s part or if she really was just that smooth by her very nature. She was certainly a lot more energetic about it once the two sat down to discuss things with a bit more time on their hands, doubly so when the fox invited her over to his own place for dinner; even still, she was never quite as manic as some of the fans that Andy had to deal with as part of his meticulously curated public image, some of which were so insufferable that sometimes he felt like slapping the fur right out of them with how much they treated him like he was a mindless slab of meat. In that regard, Rebecca had them all beat; not only did she have a near-encyclopedic knowledge of every single movie he’d been in, but she had criticism for them, and good one as well. It was such an odd experience to be able to just openly discuss the film’s failings with someone who didn’t feel like they had to tread on eggshells that, by the time the two of them heard their stomachs rumbling, it was almost ten o’clock at night. From there, things progressed about as quickly as they really could, in between the vixen having her own job and the fox needing to keep managing his own business. It was difficult to reconcile at times, but as the months wore on and the two of them found every excuse they could to meet clandestinely where the paparazzi couldn’t see them, they both felt it was about time to officialize it and have Rebecca move in; wouldn’t do to have her keep living in a cramped downtown apartment when, frankly, Andy’s place had far too much room than even he could ever use. Granted, some of this wasn’t necessarily because of his wastefulness, but more so thanks to his unique condition: Perpetual Growth Syndrome. As the name so cleverly implied, the vulpine’s body was in a constant state of flux, one that had been kickstarted during his puberty and never really stopped; were it not for his medication keeping the worst of it down, he probably would’ve broken the ten foot mark years prior, and even with the constant pill intake, he was still an enormous hunk that required special, extra-wide doors just to get around comfortably. While out and about, he could feasibly blend in with judicious application of nondescript clothing and a hunched posture, but in his house, where no such compunctions were necessary, Rebecca got to witness the real Andy, the one who didn’t need to hold back for the sake of keeping everyone off his case. “Are you cutting your shorts off shorter?” he remembered Rebecca asking him once, “Am I gonna be able to see your dick poking out in a couple of months?” “You already see my dick on a regular basis,” he shot back, getting ready on the diving board to his pool. “Yeah, but it’d be hotter, not gonna lie.” To say the experience was alluring was, to put it lightly, an understatement about as massive as Andy himself was. His body, toned, chiselled and maintained by years of arduous training and strict dieting, was something beyond hot; it was the perfect Adonis-like physique, with its proportions, its weight, its everything working together to create a visual repast that made Rebecca salivate whenever she laid eyes on it. And with summer around the corner and temperatures slowly rising, Andy made sure to use whatever opportunity he had to use the outdoor pool, deliberately using his smallest shorts so as to put his full glory on display. The intent was to show Rebecca just what she had waiting for her, and it worked perfectly… perhaps a bit too well, honestly. The change was gradual, but it was there, and by the time Andy realized what had happened, it was already too late to do anything about it. The way it was played, so subtle as to be basically unnoticeable, made him realize that he had seriously bitten off more than he could chew when it came to his romantic choices, and yet at the same time, that only really made it that much sweeter whenever he thought about it; it was a game of yielding, of surrendering limits until they were no longer there, and one that he was more than happy to lose, especially wherever Rebecca was concerned… and one that Rebecca delighted herself in playing. It started off innocently enough, and in fact in much the same way that one would expect a relationship like theirs to progress, with the two of them becoming closer to one another on a more physical level. Considering the sort of performative display that Andy put on a daily basis, it was hardly surprising that the vixen would inevitably grow more comfortable with exploring her physicality, their physicality; at first only when they were safely behind locked doors, then progressing to casual snuggling on the couch, until eventually she openly flirted with him whenever he decided to eschew the use of shirts… which, all things considered, was quite often, often enough that he began to wonder if he was doing it out of his own volition or if that succubus-like vixen was doing something to his head. Not that he’d mind; he adored having someone who could actually keep up with him. In fact, more than keep up, which is where the rest of his “problems” came from. Just as their relationship developed to the point where Rebecca openly traced her fingers across his abs whenever they were out by the pool and didn’t feel the need to look over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, so too did she begin to drop… hints. Nothing but suggestions at first, barely even that if Andy was being honest, but they were there nonetheless, probably designed to lay the groundwork for what would be done later: the occasional compliment, the odd comment, all of it directed at the fox’s overall size or bulk. They were always quite positive, enough that Andy actually felt his cheeks burning at times, being as unaccustomed as he was to those sorts of words coming from someone that he actually cared deeply about, hence why he didn’t really question them when they became more common, more explicit, and carrying with them a lot of overtones that weren’t at all innocent. Because Rebecca, despite her insistence that she loved everything about him, clearly wasn’t satisfied; she wanted more. Or, to be more precise, and as she herself would eventually put it, it was Andy that was holding himself back. His medical condition wasn’t a secret, nor was the fact that he had to take medication to control it, but the full extent of it was something that the fox kept close to his chest and chose not to reveal to the world; as far as anyone else other than his family and personal doctor were concerned, he was merely eight-and-a-half foot tall, with his full potential being some indeterminate, but certainly not at all ridiculous size. Little did anyone know that, were it not for his strict adherence to a frankly ridiculous medical routine, there really wouldn’t be a lot of people around to speculate on how big he even was; his true size, the one that was hidden away by years and years of careful maintenance, was so incomprehensibly massive that Andy had to exercise plenty of care not to think about it, lest he become too infatuated with it for his own good. This is where Rebecca came in. She didn’t try to push that particular point, at least not initially, preferring to skirt around it in an attempt to ascertain just how big her lover could truly be; a question here, a query there, and slowly she built up a mental image of what he was capable of if he only he were to let go. From there, it was easy enough to start placing a few choice words at just the right moment to get Andy to warm up to the idea that maybe he could afford to go a bit bigger than he was already, nothing too major; she wasn’t asking him to explode with size, of course not, merely to… enjoy himself a little bit more, let go a bit and delight the whole world with an “unexpected growth spurt”, as she liked to put it. “Besides, who would really mind?” she’d occasionally comment, “The whole world already knows who you are. It’s just the natural order of things.” Andy himself was of two minds on this topic, mostly because, no matter how alluring it sounded, he was already a beast of a vulpine by all objective measures. If not for his height or build, it was his manhood and how it got used; it was difficult for him to really want to make himself bigger when his cock alone was already of a large enough size that Rebecca could use it as a body pillow whenever the two got busy behind locked doors, nor could he truly convince himself that he needed additional girth when his balls were already so heavy that he had to spend a small fortune on repairing his casual wear. And yet, at the same time, there was that voice in the back of his head, the one that Rebecca was so good at singling out and feeding, that kept telling him that this was precisely why he should go further, because it wasn’t just about what he had then, it was about what he could have if only he were brave enough to take it for himself. After all, the only reason he wasn’t bigger was his own choice, wasn’t it? It was entirely up to him to decide whether or not his size should be improved. Thoughts like those became more common as time went on and the two of them continued to live together, with Rebecca growing bolder still the more she noticed her partner wasn’t complaining as much about her trying to egg him on. For Andy, this meant an increase in teasing, a marked uptake in how grabby the vixen got, and one hell of a mental torture boost considering just how eager the fennec was to remind him that he could be so much bigger than he was already; it was every single day with her, unrelenting, to the point where he was genuinely impressed that she refused to let it go… impressed and slowly coming around to the exact same idea, for he could no longer deny that it was pulling him straight into places he wasn’t sure he should be in. Then again, he never put a stop to it; he could’ve told Rebecca to knock it off permanently at any point, and yet he never did, only requesting that she lay the subject to rest until “sometime later”, an expression that the vixen consistently interpreted as meaning “about thirty minutes”, if not even less time. And still, he refused to put his foot down. Part of him adored the worship, the adoration, the constant reminder that he was, in fact, a god trapped in a mortal’s body, if only because he wouldn’t release his “true self” into the world; it made him feel powerful enough that the urge to just stop taking his meds became dangerously prominent in his mind, taking up more of his headspace in each day until he suddenly woke up one morning and found that his feet were significantly colder than they were supposed to be. He looked to the side and saw that Rebecca was still there, but she looked… smaller than him somehow, in a way he couldn’t really explain. It was only after he raised his head and rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes that Andy saw his paws poking out the other end of the sheets, very clearly out in the open, letting him know that the bed was much too small for him. This was obviously impossible, given that said bed had worked just fine up until then, and it took a bit more time and running through the previous night for the fox to remember that he had conveniently forgotten something of extreme importance: taking his damned medication. It felt so obvious that he almost started berating himself before remembering why it was that he had done it, which immediately flipped his disposition back to being so aroused that the fennec beside him was about to get one hell of a wake-up present once she came back to reality. Already he saw the sheets tenting where his shaft should be in that new body of his, mind assaulted by images of how he must look now that he had finally taken Rebecca’s advice and allowed himself to become a little more like his true form, like he should be, rather than holding himself back. It felt so natural now that he’d actually done it; he spent years fretting over how terrible it must be to lose control, but now that it had happened, he realized how silly it was to spend so much time and energy worrying about it. He wasn’t losing control, he was gaining it back from his old self, from the ignorant Andy who believed himself the sole arbiter of size and mass. For so long he had repressed his dreams of becoming all that he could be, and for what? A misbegotten sense of duty towards a world that would be better served with his true self at its full potential lording over it? Perhaps a promise made to himself, back when he was a much different person than he was today? Whatever the case may be, it was a complete waste of time; after all, if he had to take medication to keep himself from growing, then clearly the medication was wrong, not him, and he should thus get rid of it. At least, that’s what his horned-up brain was telling him. Having forgone the use of his containment meds, it didn’t take too long before this sudden state of heightened arousal began to feed back into his body, especially now that he was fully awake and in control of himself. It was one thing to accrue slow growth over the course of a night, as the chemicals washed out from his system and he had to make due with whatever dreams his mind conjured up, but now that he’d had the chance to detox naturally and was once more at the helm, it was a quick and easy step from just lying in bed wondering about how great it would be to stroke himself at full mast, to just… well, doing it. The sheets didn’t last for more than a couple of seconds by the time Andy set his mind to pleasuring himself, and from there to Rebecca being woken up was some indeterminate amount of time that the fox, being far too absorbed in his self-ministrations, lacked the mental capacity to determine. He didn’t even notice when the vixen climbed onto his chest, showering him with praise and telling him how glorious his new body was, how it was just the first step in his ascension towards divinity, and a whole bunch of other nonsense that he really didn’t have the time for; all he knew was that Rebecca was there, Rebecca was his love, and he himself was extremely horny, and as all these things were patently obvious, all it took was a whine and a quick shove for the fennec to get to work worshipping every inch of his immense frame. Surprisingly, she decided not to go for his cock like she usually did, perhaps because Andy himself was already so busy with it. Instead, her attention was directed towards his paws, which by that point had begun growing with the rest of him to become as big as Rebecca’s entire torso; it was a bit of a fantasy come true for her, to be able to wrap her whole body around a single one of those things, doubly so considering she could then hold onto it and feel it grow into and onto her, the horny energy permeating every inch of Andy’s body feeding back into his inherent growth rate and causing what was, as far as he could tell, a perfect hormonal storm. His brain was flooded with the happy juice, leaving the fox giant a complete mess of uncoordinated flailing that could only truly focus on one thing: his own pleasure. He didn’t think about his growth rates, he didn’t think about what was happening to the house around him after the bed cracked in half from his size burst, he certainly didn’t pay any heed to the panicked screaming coming from the people who worked at his manor. Why did it matter? He had himself, he had Rebecca, and the two of them had one another to share and be with for all of forever; what were a bunch of bricks compared to an eternity spent in one another’s arms? Well, he thought that, but it was going to be hard to hold the vixen in his arms when his body was becoming as utterly gigantic as it was. Not a lot he could really do there, to be honest; given that his hands were working on their own to continuously keep his shaft fully turgid and Rebecca displayed some surprisingly wonderful flexibility as she dutifully doted upon his burgeoning paws, there was only one way for his body to go: outwards. Inches were added onto his frame with every heartbeat, his whole body seemingly pulsating every other second, before these were turned into feet, and then eventually yards. His room had already succumbed to his growth, one foot crashing through the wall into the hallway outside and the other utterly wrecking the attached bathroom, all while keeping Rebecca safe in their soft pads. It wouldn’t take much more time before the rest of the mansion went much in the same way, given that the ceiling had already begun to crumble, the walls felt more like thin plaster than the thick stone that they were, and every motion of Andy’s, no matter how inconsequential, seemed to pack enough power to bring down whatever it bumped into. And yet, he had never felt any better in his entire life. Screw the occasional bender or the weeks of hard partying that came with the obligatory substance abuse, this, this kind of sensory overload was what he truly lived for, even if he hadn’t known that until just then. That he had denied himself this experience until just this moment was nothing short of horrifying to him, as was the realization that he could’ve had years of it if only he hadn’t held himself back like the dumb idiot that he was. Truly, he was a god amongst lessers, and Rebecca had been the one to let him realize that… and now, everyone would see it. It had taken Andy years to go from being regular-sized to the previously eight-and-a-half-foot giant that world grew to love and adore. It had taken him a single night to go from that to being bigger than his upscaled king-sized bed, and now? Now it had merely taken minutes before his entire house began to crumble around him. He couldn’t help himself, not when he had such a wonderful lover there to egg him on and let him know that what he was doing was more than just good, it was right, to have Rebecca there, worshipping his very form, kept in the safety of his paw pads as his whole form burst free from his mansion. He was a butterfly shedding its cocoon, never to think about it again as it became a relic of times gone by, one destroyed wall and busted window at a time. Outside, the fox’s staff were gathering in the emergency evacuation meet-up spot, not quite knowing how to react; should they call the police? Perhaps the manufacturer of the medication that their employer very clearly forgot to take? Even those who had been working there the longest and had the closest connection to Andy didn’t know what to do with what was going on, since at no point had they received training for what to do should the fox decide to let go of his sanity and embrace his wilder side. Thus, when they saw his head emerge from one side of the house, his feet from the other, and the roof being cleaved through by a shaft big enough to make everyone there blush, all they could really think to do… was run. Turn around and run as fast as they could towards the employee parking spaces, hoping they’d have enough time to start their cars and get the hell out of dodge before they were caught up in the giant’s explosive expansion; maybe, they thought to themselves, have enough of a headstart that they could warn the nearby city of what was headed their way. They wouldn’t need to though. Their intentions might be good, but they were sadly lacking in one thing that made Andy so much more superior to them: sheer size. By the time the last car had cleared the front gate of the the fox’s property, the fox himself had already grown to encompass most of it, his body still visibly throbbing with each heartbeat, the thunderous sonic waves coursing through the air and very nearly rupturing the eardrums of anyone within a half-mile radius. It didn’t really matter how quickly the staff drove off, nor how many red lights or traffic laws they ignored; they would barely reach the inner suburbs when Andy finally found it within himself to stand up, and seeing as his former manor had been built on an elevated location, this gave everyone that lived in that urban sprawl a perfect view of his body for who knows how far around. Of course, he did make sure to lean down and pick Rebecca up before doing so; she might’ve been safe from walls being torn down, but the last thing he wanted to do was take a step and potentially squish her underfoot. Besides, there was a much better place for her to be: safely nestled on top of his cock, in between its leathery, veiny surface and his base, where she wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt by anything and could spend the rest of her days basking in the magnificence that was Andy’s shaft. The musk and scents, the tactile sensations, the sounds of all that precum being pumped through his system; that last one in particular was bound to cause some trouble, and the best kind of it as well, given just how horny the whole experience had left Andy. Him stroking himself certainly helped, and right as he got up and loomed over the world around him… it hit. Hard to tell if it was a climax or several, because the intensity of it was so absurdly exaggerated compared to the usual fare that the fox giant very nearly fell back down after his legs began to quiver from the strain of holding him up mid-orgasm. His hands were still firmly on his shaft, allowing him to feel as it bulged out with each load that travelled down its full length, pressurized to such a degree that, despite his cock being about as long as his old property was wide, it still only took the same amount of time as before for the first ropes to blast outwards into the world. The main difference, of course, was that now he was painting entire neighborhoods in his thick, steamy spunk rather than just sheets or one of his lovers; now he was covering the literal world, as opposed to his figurative one in the fennec. Now he was finally imposing himself upon everything around him, and honestly? It felt great. So great in fact that he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, and without even waiting for his climax to subside, he began walking forwards towards the downtown area of his neighboring city. Usually it took about fifteen minutes by car to get from his house to a proper parking space, but at his height, looking down at all the tiny little roofs underneath him and unable to even properly see individual people as anything other than small dots, he was sure it would take only a fraction of the usual time. After all, a single step and he had already made his way out of the “rich” area of the ‘burbs, in the process obliterating one of the worst looking mansions that had ever had the misfortune of being constructed; honestly, he was doing its owner a favour, the whole thing was far better off as a pile of rubble than whatever that awful architectural design was. From there, well… simple enough to keep going. No one could stop him, nothing could stop him, and he had the whole world for the taking; better yet, he was still growing, and the fox highly doubted that he would actually stop at any point in the near future, given that he had years and years of backed-up growth to go through. Did it even work that way? If not, he would simply make it so; he had that power, seeing as he was that world’s new god after all. In between stomping his way through to the city’s center and occasionally glancing down to check if his consort Rebecca was still there where he had left her, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to remember a time in which he wasn’t this colossal behemoth of a vulpine, even if it had been just a few minutes prior. Why should he take up space in his brain with such petty trivialities when he had a whole world to conquer? He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He had better things to worry about, like bringing his paws down on unsuspecting city blocks and effortlessly flattening them as if the concrete was made out of dusty cardboard, like roaring at the top of his lungs with such intensity that he parted the clouds and shattered windows, like giving the whole world a bountiful repast of his spunk, that he may breed whoever might be remotely near him. All while still growing, always growing, never stopping, always accelerating. Forever.

Another day at the meat market and Brandon already knew it was going to be the same old disappointment. Nothing but inferior specimens and cheap, undersized imports that could barely speak the language, much less be the sort of prize cow he needed. Without the hard cash needed to compete in the better-supplied auctions, it was down to sifting through the dregs and hoping to find a nugget that, with the right amount of polish, he could turn into something of… well, not beauty, but something. Hopefully enough to serve as a pass until he could get something better for himself. It was hard for him to hide his revulsion at having to share the same space as the vermin scurrying around him. So many of them were lowborn themselves, elevated from the muck just barely enough to scrape by the funds for a single slave, and yet thinking themselves the hottest shit around. How quickly they winced and scurried away at the sight of him, towering at least a couple of heads above everyone and possessed of a broad, sculpted physique that only generations of careful lineage manipulation could achieve. How tragic that he was forced to resort to such lowly means. Just the sight of it all made him want to brush off non-existent dust from his shoulders, as if their mere presence was enough to dirty him. Well, that and all the ambient grease; washing his clothes would be a nightmare later. The usual crowd was making the rounds, choking the warehouse’s limited space with bodies and uninformed opinions, all vying for control over what they considered to be the “best” sellers and the “best” hotties. Every moment he spent in there was a constant reminder of how little he deserved to be in it; how could it be that he had fallen so low, to have to resort to unregistered slave salesmen hurriedly setting up crust-covered stalls somewhere the corporate officers wouldn’t find them? How could he, of all people, have to compete with the unwashed masses, who wouldn’t be able to tell tits from ass if they hit them on the face? Rabble, all of them; it was a cruel twist of fate that he was forced to deal with their kind, possessed as he was of a mind far more attuned to the realities of slave-keeping than anyone present in that stuffed building. If only he hadn’t fallen on such hard times, maybe he wouldn’t have to look at a piece of meat that barely had any tits like he was supposed to think it was some big thing. He was about ready to just give up early and go home, maybe think about taking up self-body modding as a kind of desperate last measure, when he saw something out the corner of his eye. It was no wonder he failed to notice it until then, being surrounded as she was by a crowd that made it nearly impossible to get a good look, but a chance movement in the tight grouping gave Brandon just the right window to observe what had to be his ticket out of misery and straight into the halls of fame he so desperately sought to belong in. At first glance, it was a wonder how that cat was in a meat market of as low a quality as that one; her fur alone was groomed to such a fine degree of perfection that it practically sucked the ugly out of everything around it, obviously meticulously well-kept by whoever had decided to sell them in the first place. Her body as well was a thing of wonder, so at odds with the ignorant crowds and substandard stock surrounding her that it was no wonder she was trying to cover her nude self up. Brandon pushed through the thicket of avid buyers to get a better look, to see if his eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him. They hadn’t. The feline was already very gifted, far more endowed with hip and bosom than any other product there, and his trained eye could tell that she was entirely natural despite how unlikely that would seem. Although average in height, her size eclipsed everyone around her. She possessed a pair of breasts that obscured most of her torso; nearly spherical, seeming to defy gravity, they stood proudly on her chest and protruded from both sides of it, hips noticeably wider than her shoulders, while her plump rear and plush thighs were well-padded enough to sink a hand into and just feel the flesh overflowing between one’s fingers. Her hourglass figure was so absurdly exaggerated that her entire form just begged to be groped and kneaded, like it was designed to be treated like the slave creature she was; the security personnel around the stage were having a hell of a time keeping grabby little hands away from the property, and a few tentative purchasers had already been carted away by force. He was smitten. Such a beautiful, stunning young specimen, sold for a pittance to a crowd that would never truly understand her potential, and what they could achieve with her. It was hard to pin her species down as well, at least visually; there were elements of leopard in her overall frame, and yet Brandon could swear there was some tiger in there as well. All in all, a rather common mix, often crossbred precisely to enhance its feline traits. Could it be that the feline was a hybrid, of sorts, carefully bred to maximize her allure by whatever family owned her lineage? Gods, if that was the case, then it was just another reason to get her as far away from these dreadful customers as he could; if anyone were to buy her, she’d probably end up in some two-bit whorehouse, made to cater to hyper-freaks and people with a smothering fetish, rather than being elevated to the proper place of stardom and adoration she honestly deserved. A place he could take her to. Brandon gestured towards the feline being sold, whose emerald green eyes were drawn to the imposingly large wolf, the only one not trying to grab her tits or ass; difficult to miss him when he managed to easily tower over most of the crowd, after all. Their eyes locked for just an instant, but it was enough for the cat to stare at him with an expression that screamed her desire to leave as quickly as she could, and he agreed; such a lovely creature should never be allowed to exist under the control of such uncouth brutes as the ones trying to muscle their way in, and for once, he actually had a reason to flex his above-average influence. “Five thousand.” He didn’t scream or shout, didn’t need to strain his throat. All that was required was for Brandon to raise his voice and pull out the bass, and a wave of silence rolled through the many mouths around him, the whole meat market going quiet after just a few seconds of his presence being made known. He scanned the crowd for any signs of resistance, the slightest hint that someone was about to fight him for control of the bid; curiously, he actually did see someone who tried to do just that, only to give up when Brandon stared them down. A quick look over the sea of heads ensured that no one else would get any bright ideas, after which he was free to walk forward, slam a wad of cash on the seller’s table, and then grab the cat’s arm before turning around. “Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t look at anyone,” he hissed at her, “don’t think of anyone. Not until we’re out.” With those words, the wolf dragged his newest purchase through a group of very angry-looking louts, kept in check only by the watchful eye of the many armed guards standing watch over them. “Y-your name, Master?” the cat whispered, just barely audible over the rising murmur of the crowd. “Not now. Talk later.” *** The trip out of the slave market was as uneventful as it could be when Brandon was towing behind him someone of the kind of caliber as that feline; every single eye turned with the amount of bounce her body possessed, to say nothing of the sway of her hips and the occasional slapping of her tremendous bosom against her chest. At the very least she was as eager to get out as he was; he didn’t even have to show her the door to his car for her to shove herself into it, struggling to get the belt over her bust for a few moments before being all-but forced to look at the wolf, silently begging for help. Brandon, for his part, quite enjoyed the sight of the cat fumbling with something as simple as a seatbelt, but knew that any kind of scuff mark or blemish would spell disaster for what he had planned for her. “Stop,” he sighed, rolling his eyes in mock disappointment, “hand it here, I’ll fix it for you. I expect you to learn how to handle yourself from this point forward.” Despite his words, the wolf was secretly happy to help the feline out; it gave him the window of opportunity to explore the curves of his brand new acquisition, mercilessly sinking his fingers as deep as they could go before testing another part of her. The feline was as soft and pliable as she looked, and even Brandon had to marvel at how heavy her assets were; being natural, he had assumed they’d have some heft to them, but not to that degree. Her breasts had just the right amount of squish for the seatbelt to dig into them and have nearly half of the strap across her chest vanish into her cleavage after he pulled it snug. The cat didn’t show the slightest bit of discomfort, even if her face was as red as the neon lights of the many buildings passing by outside, flashing above their heads. Yet, surprisingly enough, her large bosom was impossibly perky and round; a pair of that size and weight should, by all means, hang enough to qualify as fleshy teardrops, and yet the feline in front of him sported a pair that refused to yield to gravity to an almost supernatural degree. Her breasts were natural, clearly untouched by any doctor or gene therapist, but he refused to believe there wasn’t some kind of unnatural manipulation going on with her. There had to be. The ride home was uneventful. They drove in silence, the feline keeping her hands in her lap and her head down, the occasional bump in the rode causing her assets to bounce or jiggle with their inherent momentum. Brandon for the most part feigned boredom, looking out the window while keeping an eye on her reflection; when the lighting was right, he studied her curves, the bouncing of her breasts, the colour of her fur. It was a good thing the feline was keeping her head down, most of her vision obstructed by a bust that was wider than her torso. If any corporate officers spotted him driving around with an extremely well-endowed, completely nude cat, they’d simply assume it was all above board; it wasn’t all that unusual for a slave owner to have to ferry their latest purchase around themselves, and few of them bothered to clothe or even try to hide whoever they were bringing with them. With no one to stop him, Brandon easily made his way into the garage underneath his home and took his sweet time helping the exaggeratedly proportioned cat out. “You live here?” were her first words after stepping out of the car, emerald eyes wide in awe at the immense garage underneath the equally-giant apartment building. There was almost a hint of a smile on her face. Having ended up in a slum to wait for someone to purchase her, she had convinced herself that she’d be condemned to a fate far worse than what it was turning out to be. “What did you expect?” the wolf teased, knowing full well that no one capable of living in a place like that would ever allow themselves to be spotted in the kind of establishment he’d just been in, “I’m aware my presence at that… place might’ve given you the wrong idea about my affluence, but I can assure you that I’ll expect you to live up to the highest possible standards… what’s your name?” “C-Cynthia,” the cat replied, a certain note of enthusiasm coloring her stutter before she remembered her station, lowering her head until it was almost buried into her cleavage again, “a-and it’ll be fine. My previous owner used to be quite wealthy.” The gesture was appreciated, not only because it served to highlight the cat’s well-honed obedience, but since it also allowed Brandon to analyze her motions for signs of previous education and conditioning. Despite the immense strain on her chest, she kept her back straight, arched a little bit to offset their weight and exaggerate her curves (not that they needed that help). Even under a soft layer of fur and padding, the definition of her back muscles could be seen, a testament to the weight she was expected to keep upright. Only her neck craned down, keeping her head bowed to express her deference (as Brandon expected, really), with her hands neatly folded in one another in front of her tremendously thick thighs; she kept her feet dutifully glued to one another, allowing her flared hips and equally impressive bubble butt to present themselves in a perfectly-rounded shape vaguely resembling a heart. Her ears, as well, kept themselves as low as they could go, slightly swept backwards against her shoulder-length blond hair, just the right length that the cat would have to occasionally move her bangs out of her face, an acquired habit that Brandon found… cute enough to be acceptable. ‘This one was good’, he thought. She knew the basics, at least. “Ah, a fall from grace as well. At least I won’t have to teach you proper manners,” Brandon mused, scratching his chin and then mumbling more to himself, “can go straight to the filling.” Cynthia’s reaction was obvious; whatever her former owner did to her, improving her already-sizeable natural gifts hadn’t been on the list, making Brandon wonder just who it was that had let such a priceless young thing go at a meat market of such low quality. “You’re good, but far from perfect...” the wolf explained, “... unlike your former owner, I don’t intend to stop at what nature gave you. You’re going to be my ticket out of needing to visit shitholes like the one you were in, and I’m going to use you like one. Understood?” He could tell the cat wanted to reply, to say something to the effect of him having found her in that “shithole”; but she was clearly well-educated, or at least knew enough about her place in society to keep quiet. “Yes, Master,” was her polite response, issued with thankfully-familiar obedience without a drop of understanding as to what he had planned for her, “do you wish for me to get measured for a uniform, or am I to serve you as I am now?” Oh, he liked this one. This one would do nicely. *** It was always a treat when Brandon brought someone home from the lower-class auctions and got to see their reaction to a home that would, on initial appearance, look like it belonged to someone far higher up on the social ladder than the wolf actually was. Unfortunately for him, most of the eyes that gazed upon his abode ended up disposed of within a few weeks, or at best just turned out to be utterly unsuited for the kind of work he expected them to do; those were normally sold off quickly in the nearest auction house. However, he had high hopes for his newest project, who appeared at least disciplined enough not to let her mouth run, even if her eyes had a certain spark about them, telling him she wanted to do and say things she knew she shouldn’t. He chalked up her surprise to the sheer contrast between where she was purchased and where she ended up being, probably figuring that anyone willing to resort to a hastily-assembled street market wouldn’t have a penthouse in such a luxurious area of the city. Unbeknownst to him at the time, her previous owner had given her the privilege of working in a country manor, far away from the constant avalanche of noise that were her current surroundings, before running into a bout of bad financial luck themselves. It just so happened that Cynthia hadn’t had the pleasure of being anywhere that high-class in quite a long time. “Impressive, is it not?” Brandon mused aloud, waving out of the elevator and towards the end of the corridor, the two of them having emerged onto a landing with a magnificent view of the city, “A gift to me, from my deceased father. A house and a bank account, but nothing more.” A number of thoughts ran through Cynthia's head, most of them a variation on wanting to point out how this ‘nothing more’ was already far in excess of what most people in her position would ever even get a glimpse of in their lifetimes. Her outspokenness had never been an issue in her old home, but her previous owner was well-aware that there was a lot more going on behind her pretty little eyes than it first appeared; there weren’t many attempts at stamping out her inconvenient penchant for thinking for herself, however, as Cynthia knew better than to act as if she was above her real position in the great chain. She was alone, with nothing to her name, no one to stand with or even clothes on her back, and thus it would be a bad idea to try and have an argument with her new owner. Therefore, the best course of action was to let Brandon carry on with the introductions and only then make any questions known, as would be expected; interrupting the wolf would be rude, impolite, and thoroughly unbefitting of a proper slave girl. Brandon noticed this, raising an eyebrow and keeping it up when she glanced back, just to see if his recent purchase would get any bright ideas about talking back to him. With naught but silence heading his way, he nodded, allowing himself to smile once his face was turned away and she couldn’t see it. “You, however, will make sure that I finally get to rub elbows with the kind of people I deserve to be around, rather than the rabble trying to fight over the lowest price for you,” the wolf carried on, the overly-practiced speech sounding duller with each repetition, “You will be molded, shaped and reforged by the best doctors and materials money can buy, and you will enjoy every second of it. You will become unrecognizable and still beg for further enhancement. I will pump you with whatever is required to keep you going if I have to. Do you understand?” This was the first sign of her training faltering. She glanced up to him, ears high in alarm. She did understand. Although the exact plan Brandon had in store for her was still cryptic, it couldn’t be good… and yet she had no way to protest; the tears she was fighting back certainly made that quite clear. Cynthia should’ve known that something like this would happen; it’s not every day that someone like Brandon shows up to places of such vile repute as the one she was dumped in, and their presence always heralded the kind of depraved excess that only the higher classes could achieve. She had hoped it would just be more of the usual, something she was mentally prepared for: the grabby hands, the lack of concern for her personal safety, hell, she’d endure the same kind of “group activities”, as her previous master called them, just for the sake of having a home that wasn’t a hovel in some dingy alleyway. But of course she ended up with someone like him. How couldn’t she? This was her lot in life. Her place in society. “I asked: Do you understand?” Brandon repeated himself, far more forceful this time around. “Y-yes, Master. Anything for you, Master,” the cat replied hastily, as if the response had been drilled into her in the past. Still having to choke down a lot of choice words she was sure would get her the lash. “Good. Now come, we need to test a few things.” *** The amount of procedures and testing Cynthia was subjected to managed to surprise her to no end; the cat had been used to the kind of expectations men like Brandon had regarding property like her, and yet the wolf managed to blow them clear out of the water with how much attention he paid to every detail of her body, always with the promise that it was merely a way to enhance it later. Back at her previous home, the cat had been the culmination of her master’s family’s grand design: generations of careful breeding and animal husbandry in all but name had left her what her owner called a “perfect specimen”, the absolute best biology could produce without the slightest help from medical science. For her previous master, that was enough; she bought his way into a lot of places looking the way she did, but Cynthia could tell Brandon would never be satisfied with her until he literally could not “improve” her even more. Everything was accounted for, down to the minutest detail; even her genetic code was sequenced just in case any “in-depth” manipulation was required, even if Brandon assured her such a thing would never be necessary. The file detailing her body’s capabilities and capacity for growth kept getting bigger by the day. The wolf was insistent that he wanted to see just what she could accomplish before anything was done to her, if only because he felt like he needed to flex his newest purchase a bit. Thus, the two of them were scheduled to meet with some “friends-to-be” in one of the city’s finer gentlemen’s clubs. Outwardly, it was entirely respectable, a place for men of high class to gather and discuss business, golf and other things that would distract people long enough for them to prepare their true entertainment for each night. In reality, all one had to do was look closer for a few seconds to pierce the thin veneer of pretense and civility those people had built for themselves and see the depraved obscenity that lay within in all its oddly-alluring glory. Far from a place for reasonable discourse and networking, the club was designed from the ground up to cater to the same kind of crowd Brandon counted himself as part of, lovers of everything that was big, excessive and artificial. “I expect you to be on your best behaviour, Cynthia,” Brandon warned her, “and to remember your place on the ladder… as well as mine. I’m not exactly as high up as I want to be, and won’t be suffering even more; you’re to be your absolute best, understood?” “Of course, Master,” the cat replied enthusiastically, turning on a small display of her skills. Her eyes partially closed and she turned up the corner of her mouth, looking up to him in a clearly well-practiced sultry gaze. “if… that is the name I might address you as while in your esteemed company?” “Master will do just fine” - the wolf answered back nonchalantly, triggering a thought in his own head. Calling a slave by their actual name was not only seen as overly sentimental, but would most likely stain his reputation even more than it already was. Nonetheless, it was impossible to deny that he had some degree of fondness for the feline in front of him, necessitating an affectionate nickname of sorts - “And just as you’ll keep that name for me, so too will you be my little Kitten. Understood?” “Yes, Master!” Cynthia giggled, bouncing in place and even managing to produce a well-timed purr, “I won’t let you down!” The buxom and shapely feline canted her head, giving him a smile. The flip from obedient slave to flirtatious art piece in public once given permission was extraordinary. Almost caught off-guard by this sudden shift, Brandon craned his neck back and his eyebrows raised maybe a millimeter. ‘What the hell... Where did this come from? What else is she hiding?’ he thought while clearing his throat and regaining his composure. Each night, the many members would bring their best “personal pieces” for everyone to meet: bloated fuckdolls that were more plastic than fur, carrying assets too heavy for their spines to deal with, riddled with enhancements both subtle and anything but, just so they could move around unimpeded. They were taught how to address their peers appropriately, even if the only interaction most of them got around to was to wrap their tits around a waiting cock and keep going until the eager customer couldn’t stand the creaking anymore. The sounds would be unbearable for anyone other than the fetish crowd the club attracted; overfilled implants were the norm, and if more than a minute went by without some cute little thing moaning like a whore when her chest began to groan ominously as they were being pumped fuller, then something was dreadfully wrong. It was self-indulgence at its finest, all done at the cost of whoever the club-goers happened to have on hand. A few of the unlucky ones, those whose bodies had a higher predisposition towards the kind of enhancements their masters foisted upon them, had to be carted in and used as little more than disposable stress relief after becoming unable to move on their own; their owners were nonetheless incredibly high up in comparison to all others, as not everyone could afford those kinds of treatments on such a large scale. For that night, however, Brandon had nothing to show but Cynthia as she was. Not that it wasn’t enough; the cat drew plenty of eyes when she strutted into the main room, fully nude with the exception of a small choker and a simple charm on it with her master’s name. She expertly flaunted her curves, whether naturally or through training. Brandon didn’t care; she knew how to turn heads with smooth motions and exaggerated poses, all while keeping a content smile as if nothing was wrong. A natural at showing off what she had while keeping by the wolf’s side and presenting a perfect contrast to the tall hunk she was accompanying. It’s just that Brandon had a mental image of what he wanted her to become, and while his little Kitten was undoubtedly beautiful, she was still far and away… incomplete. More had to be done. Nonetheless, the evening was still a success. Brandon kept a short leash on Cynthia for the whole time, even if he did allow some of the other patrons to get their hands close enough where his Kitten got to show her dedication to the cause, as it were. Much to the wolf’s delight, the cat performed admirably, keeping her composure despite the obvious lack of finesse and care displayed by the men around her, and doing a surprisingly superb job of teasing the same people when given the command. There were very few things more delightful than seeing a self-assumed “alpha male” go from leering to helpless the moment their “prey” turned on the puppy-dog eyes and made good on their offers to let her feel them up. Made for a good couple of hours before Brandon took his leave and stashed a notebook into his coat. Enough notes had been taken that the wolf could afford to forgo any visits to the club for some time; now that it was known that Cynthia was his property, it paid off more to let word and rumours spread, just so whenever he returned he could surprise everyone with an improved version of the already well-endowed feline. He had a head full of ideas for what to do with his Kitten, each more excessive than the last; but there was a single question he needed to ask of her. It was inconsequential. Her answer wouldn’t matter, as it would happen either way, but after seeing the cat in action over the course of their stay in the club, how easily she flipped from obedient and subservient to flirtatious and irreverent, he needed to know what she would say, and how she said it. They were in the car when he dropped the query. Cynthia was fiddling with the much-too-tight seatbelt again and Brandon was keeping his eyes on the foggy road. He cleared his throat. “You did well tonight, I’m almost proud. Keep lifting me up the ladder and maybe, just maybe… if you work hard enough, get big enough, and keep being good enough… I’ll raise you up as well.” Those words resonated with Cynthia far more than Brandon could have ever thought. Her previous owner was by no means negligent or abusive, but he never saw her as anything more than a tool, and was blatantly obvious about it as well. To them, she was a cog in the machine, to be discarded as soon as she was no longer necessary; it just so happened she was very good at making herself be necessary. In Brandon, however, Cynthia saw something… different. Perhaps a kindness her previous owner had refused her, the slightest inkling of intimacy or acceptance, the thought that maybe, just maybe, the wolf saw her as more than a piece of meat. As starved for affection as she was, it was everything the cat needed to go along with whatever came out of his mouth next. “What do you think of implants, Kitten?” “Whatever is necessary to make Master proud of his Kitten of course~!” The answer came immediately, and with a measure of excitement that succeeded in making the wolf’s eyebrows rise; he hadn’t expected her to deliver the correct answer so quickly and with such little hesitation… or so much enthusiasm… but there it was. His purchase had just paid for itself. “Good,” he smiled back, “we’ll be working on that next.”

Sorcery.Net Episode 3: The Daemon Will Durst purred happily to himself as he brushed his tail. Fresh out of the shower, the catboy's mind was full of possibilities for the strange, and rather fun, program that he'd played around with. He hadn't the slightest clue how it was possible, but the fact that he had cat ears and a fluffy snow leopard tail was enough to tell him that it was real enough. He wrapped a towel around his waist, walking back to the computer. He cast his closet a brief look. That door had lead him into the lair of a wonderfully friendly dragon. A male dragon. He had wonderful, incredible, hot, sticky sex with another guy. Will had never thought he had such a side inside of him. Of course it WAS with a creature all the science books said didn't exist. He might not be interested in other males in the real world, but it seemed that with fantasy creatures, Will was definately a raging bisexual. The catboy sat down at the computer, slouching in the chair so his tail could hang out below one of the arm rests. He swished the mouse around to get the PC off screensaver. To his surprise the screen was not as he had left it, instead of the character creator interface type thing, there was a message in those weird runes. What was even more surprising is that Will could read them! "Congratulations on your first use of the Ruramusho Recreational Fantasy Fulfillment Engine! This service is provided for all private use by the Plane of Pleasure. You are free to utilize our website to your heart's content. There is no fee, and no risk to you. Any summon spell will dissipate after the experience is completed, or after three hours, whichever comes sooner." "Just in case you'd like to try a form without hands, or any manipulatory appendages whatsoever, our transformation spells are designed to unravel the moment they begin to cause discomfort or inconvenience. You also may wear your RRFFE generated form in public, though it is visible only to other RRFFE users." "After having experienced our introductory sample of a self transformation and a summoning, we feel that you are familiar enough with the RRFFE product to utilize the entire RRFFE suite, rather then simply the character designer. Please enjoy our Partner Design and Summoning, Environmental Enhancer, AltWorlds Fantasy Chat, and the Ruramusho Instant Messenger program for conversing with other Ruramusho Product Suite users in a non-magical format." At the bottom was an arrow, apparently there was more to the message. Absolutely fascinated by all of it, Will clicked it and began to read the second page of notes. "Now that you've seen the effects of the RRFFE in person and are aware of the existence of magic, you are now able to utilize the RRFFE software and all it's related products in runic incantation form. Please stand by while the spellcasting procedure is downloaded into your conscious mind..." With a sudden flash of insight, Will knew exactly what to do to bring up the program anywhere. Those boring afternoons stuck on campus between classes weren't going to be boring any longer. "Also provided is a copy of our help daemon, Deign, whom we promise is far more likable and useful then that fiendish abomination placed in with Microsoft's software." "With all the effort and magical energy put into this, you may wonder what we at Ruramusho Designs get out of the bargain. Housed on the Plane of Pleasure, your satisfaction is our primary concern. Here the pleasure experienced as a result of our efforts functions as a sort of currency. Your enjoyment of our creation is literally payment enough for all our hard work. Thank you for choosing Ruramusho as your provider for fantasy fulfillment and pleasure! -Webmistress Elena Hellkitten" And with that the image vanished, bringing up the original website, which now seemed to be in English rather then a bunch of junk characters and question marks. "Well, that's kind of interesting." Will said to himself, all sorts of ideas and images flickering through his mind. He had an idea of what he wanted to try next, but he wasn't exactly sure how. With a few motions of his hands while holding a certain symbol affixed in his mind, Will began the incantation for the Help Daemon. With a puff of pink and purple smoke that smelled strangely like a mixture of bubble gum, strawberries, and cotton candy. The sight of the creature that stood where the cloud had been brought a smile to Will's face. Shi was maybe about three feet tall, looking very much like a mix of all sorts of small and fuzzy creatures that brought cuteness to mind. At first glance, Deign looked very much like a mix between a squirrel and a fox, what with several large, fluffy tails sticking out from behind her, large triangular ears, and a canine muzzle. Shi was was definitely a hermaphrodite, as was obvious from her slightly oversized tits and the sheath between hir legs. "Hiya!" the daemon said in a happy, chirping voice, "I'm Deign, and I'm your helper!" Shi squinted at Will, looking him over. "Mmm, you're a newbie, aren'tcha?! I can tell, 'cause yer lookin' at me with big ol' bug eyes. Anyhoo, first things first, getting me off the default color scheme 'n shape. Don't worry, you ain't gotta do nothing, just lemme get a good reading of the stuff in yer head and... poof!" With another puff of sweet smelling smoke, Deign altered her form. Now appearing as a small anthropomorphic snow leopard with fluffy feathered wings, and a thinner, more lithe, more realistic, far less 'chibi' build. The little daemon looks herself over, then with a snap of her fingers, adds a few bits of clothing. Nothing complex, just a tube top and a pair of skintight shorts, both made out of gleaming black latex. "Mmm, creative. I like you!" "Thanks." Will said shyly, he was always had problems getting his words out around girls, and that seemed to hold true even if they were three feet tall and fuzzy. "So whatta ya need help with?" Deign asked with a fanged smile. "I can see ya got the design editor thingy down. So whatcha wanna try now?" "There's something about an environmental editor, what's that exactly?" "Well, two things you can do with that. One is set up a place that you can go to through your portal door over there. You can use that for scenarios, AltWorlds Chat, or anything like that. Though we've had some inventive users with small apartments basically abandon the material plane aspect of their apartment, and just live on the other side of the portal. Nothing wrong with that, just that it's Ruramusho users only in there. Other thing is actually changing your existing living space. Problem with that is we can't add anything new, we can only alter what's here. Lemme show ya..." And with the blink of an eye, Will's office area changed. The somewhat worn and abused gray carpet fading into a shiny black and white tiled floor. The small TV set in the corner with the rabbit ears on top morphing into a plasma screen TV that hung on the wall. The beat up love seat he'd picked up off someone's curb became a much nicer black leather sofa. His somewhat outdated computer became a state of the art model, the Dell brand marker on the front replaced with an emblem with a smiling kitty emoticon. (>^.^<) Will turned to see the same expression on Deign's face. "That's..." he manages, before shaking his head, awed by what had just happened. "Amazing? Yeah, I'm pretty good with that sort of thing. Anything else you'd like to try?" the smiling Daemon asked. "I'm not sure, I don't know what all is even possible." "Oh, just about anything you could every imagine. But it is a bit overwhelming. So we should probably give ya a sample of just about everything with a story scenario. Its like what you did with the dragon, except there's some plot to it, not just 'Bang, right to the fuckin'' like with the dragon. Ya liked the dragon, didn'tcha?" Will nods and grins. "I loved the dragon. Can we do something like that?" "Sure! We can do a whole scenario. Since you had so much fun the first time, wanna try another male again? That way we can show you all about the different kinds of pleasure. The dragon was a bit too big to go with the standard routine." Will just nodded and licked his lips, letting Deign pick things out. Judging from what she'd picked out for the changes to the room around him, she had more then a little insight into what he liked. "Of course I do! I'm a mind reader after all!" the tiny puffball said with a huge grin. "But yeah, I have the perfect thing in mind, you being a video gamer 'n all. Sort of a pet monster thing. Since you like dragons 'n all, how about some kinda lizard? Oooh! I got just the one! He's already a part of one of the AltWorlds pet monster games. Might wanna check those out sometime too. Role playing games are much more fun when you're really living the role. Actually you have an invite to do just that from your sister. But we really need to get you used to the system first before you go off adventuring. Just tell me when you want to start." the diminutive demoness said, enjoying the process of guiding hir master through his first experiences. "How about..." Will managed to get out before there's a sudden flash.

Rodentine Rapture III Cassie let out a contented moan as the last of her seed splattered onto Eve's desk. She'd just about coated everything; desktop, computer, keyboard, chair, everything received a liberal amount of translucent, slippery, glowing cum. She giggled at the sight of it dripping and oozing everywhere. Mmm... she finally felt satisfied, satiated. Her sexual hungers finally fulfilled like never before. She'd been rock hard all day, and only now did her shaft, an obscene two feet in length, begin to soften. Maybe it was the dim light, as Cassie hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, but the skin of her shaft looked darker, and as her cock grew flaccid, it began to withdraw into an odd, pouch-like thing at the base. A sheathe, wasn't it? When had that gotten there? No matter. She flopped down onto one of the waiting chairs, flipping through the tome again. The fact that she was reading in pitch darkness never occurred to her. She'd quite enjoyed the Mistress' Mark spell, was there perhaps something else in the book that would be equally as fun? Hmm... Thrall Call, essentially issuing a summons that would create an irresistible urge in one's followers to seek out their mistress. Cassie found herself drawing in breath to speak the incantation, when a muffled noise drew her attention. Small muscles twitched, making Cassie's ears move to better pick up the sound. It was yet another alteration to her body that went unnoticed. She grinned as she stood, leaving her spellbook behind as she crept into her boss' office. Light shown from beneath the bathroom door, another moan coming from the room, this one far less muffled. Cassie's grin spread as she contemplated her next move. She raised a hand and knocked on the door. "You all right in there? Didn't fall in did you?" she said, barely able to contain her laughter at the sudden yelp from within. "I-I'm f-f-fine!" Eve stammered. "G-go away!" "Quitting time is long since over, hun. I think you might have some kind of problem if you've been in there for hours and hours. Is there anything I can do to help?" Cassie purred. She heard Eve draw a breath, muffling a pleasured moan. "Y-yes! I need..." she paused, realizing what she was asking. "N-no! I'm just fine!" Cassie could smell the scent of sex and arousal from the air that seeped through the door's narrow cracks. "I don't think you're fine. In fact I think you're just dying to have a cock between your legs, aren't you?" Eve didn't answer, at least not in words. Cassie did, however, hear another moan that she was trying to muffle. "Or perhaps a friendly tongue, hmm? Wouldn't it be wonderful to feel a woman's touch on that aching sex of yours?" "No, I don't... don't... I'm not..." Eve panted. "Just think of how nice it'll feel to have a pair of soft hands fondling those gorgeous tits of yours, smooth skin pressed against your own..." she crooned. "Oh God, stop it! Stop it!" the stricken secretary demanded, sounding on the verge of tears. "Or even better, your lips and tongue caressing me. Doesn't that just make you so hot and bothered, Eve? The thought of pleasuring another woman, being subservient to her will, becoming a good, sexy little pet for your mistress?" There was a soft whimper from within, followed by a decidedly non-muffled cry of pleasure. A few moments later, Cassie heard the door lock popping open and the knob turning. She took a step back, allowing her new pet to emerge. Eve's red suit and skirted were permanently stained dark from Cassie's essence. Her hair had been jarred loose from its bun over her hours of likely near-frenzied self-pleasure. She'd removed her glasses hours before, fogged as they'd been by the same splooge. Cassie was surprised that the aphrodisiac effect had been that powerful. Even now Eve hadn't stopped pleasuring herself, with one hand beneath her skirt. The sight, and moreover the scent of her was enough to coax Cassie back into full arousal again. The mixture of her own climax entwined with Eve's frantic, fruitless pleasures created a delicious scent that made Cassie almost painfully aroused. She nearly pounced the secretary, their lips meeting in a lustful, hungry kiss. Eve grabbed her with her free arm, hugging her tightly, clinging to Cassie as if she were drowning in a sea of lust. The oversized shemale instinctively pressed back. She gripped Eve's hand around the wrist, pulling it from the woman's loins, and directing it to her own. Eve gasped as she felt Cassie's heavy balls, groped her massive shaft in disbelief. Despite her lust, the secretary managed to push herself away, stumbling in the dark, fumbling her way along the wall until she found a lightswitch. Eve's eyes went wide as she drew in all of Cassie for the first time. Cassie grinned and followed Eve's gaze. First was her frame; while Cassie had realized she'd been growing, she hadn't noticed that she'd grown to this degree. She'd been a bit below average to start, had gained several inches in the months leading up to her strange gender alteration, and now it seemed she'd gained a few more, now standing somewhere around six and a half feet in height. The secretary gawked at Cassie's huge black cock, jutting from its bestial sheathe. As she stared Cassie noticed the woman shifting her position, her fists clenched tightly, trying to keep her hands off herself. She giggled as Eve licked her lips and then winced. She spent even more time admiring Cassie's four voluminous breasts, and then up higher, staring at something that Cassie hadn't noticed. "Wh-what are you?" Eve stammered. "You... you're not the Cassie I know..." Cassie grinned. "I'm better than that. I've had the wool pulled from my eyes and been shown some interesting things about the way the world works now." She stepped forward, only to have Eve take a fearful step back. "Don't be afraid," Cassie whispered, beckoning Eve closer. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact I'm going to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You know you want to explore all of me, feel what's it's like to make love to a woman, but with a huge, wonderful cock." Eve shook her head. "It'll break me in half!" she protested, the sound barely above a whisper. "It won't break you in half, I promise," Cassie cooed, holding out a black-nailed hand. "After all, no one likes a broken toy." Eve let out a soft moan, her knees going weak from a moment. She steadied herself by grabbing hold of a magazine rack. "Wh-what did you j-just do?" she stammered, biting her lip. It took all Eve had to stop herself from pawing at her loins. "You mean call you my toy, my pet, my plaything, my thrall?" Eve dropped to her knees, a pained moan escaping her lips. She looked up at Cassie, eyes filled with lust, fear, and confusion. Cassie approached, but stopped just short. Her ebon prick, or at least a goodly portion of it, was on level with Eve's face just a few inches away. She opened her mouth, her tongue slipping out, stretching, straining to reach the shemale's glistening shaft. But she'd locked her neck muscles and seemed to be straining to stop herself. "Just say it. Just say the one word you feel welling up inside you. Just give into your desires, your lusts, your fantasies. If every bit of your being is screaming to wrap your lips around my cock, do it. If your sex is aching so bad that you can't stand it and it needs to be touched, just beg your mistress to stroke you, to caress you, to make you feel good. Just say the word and I'll make you climax in ways you've never felt before." Eve shuddered as her resolve finally broke, tears trickled down her cheeks as she whispered, "P-please, Mistress, make me cum." "There's a good girl..." her mistress said proudly. -o- Eve let out a soft sob as she leaned forward, tentatively taking the head of Cassie's mammoth prick into her mouth. She only just managed it, her jaw opened as wide as it could go. Cassie gasped, reaching down to get a grip on her pet's platinum blonde tresses, slowly forcing her shaft deeper, inch by inch. The sexy secretary whimpered, panicking for a moment, but the more of Cassie's cock that was forced into her the less she struggled against it; as it seemed to grow more and more comfortable to her. A muffled moan came from Cassie's new pet as the last inch of massive manhood was stuffed into her maw. The shemale noted that her pet seemed to have calmed somewhat now that she had her mistress to comfort her. Her scent had begun to change, it was no longer that of an overpowering, frenzied heat, but rather that of merely powerful arousal, coupled with a sort of satisfaction. Eve began to unbutton her blouse, fumbling with hands that more wanted to explore Cassie's body than to bare her own flesh. The shemale chuckled and pulled away. Eve cried out in sudden shock and surprise, as well as frustration. She had been enjoying Cassie's cock down her throat. "Wh-wha... how?" she stammered, awed. "How is that possible? That... thing shouldn't fit, it should... choke me. But it... it..." Cassie laughed and reached down, growling cutely as she tore open Eve's shirt, slashing her bra into tatters with nails that had recently become ebon claws. "You're my pet, Eve, and a proper pet is perfectly equipped to please her mistress. And I take it you like pleasing me?" The secretary nodded tentatively, blushing, "It felt... wonderful. Calming, relaxing. Having your cock inside me was the best I've felt today, ever since... since... something got dumped on me in the conference room." Cassie coaxed her thrall onto her back, and she sat upon Eve's middle, placing her member between her pet's breasts. Already slick with saliva, it slid nicely between the two orbs. Eve cried out, arching her back and pressing against her mistress. She looked up at Cassie with wide eyes, "My god, that feels... incredible." The shemale grinned, "I can make this feel even better, my pet," she purred. "Would you like that? It might be something a bit weird for you, but I'm sure you'll love it. I know I do." Eve merely nodded and let out a contented sigh as she coaxed her mistress' cock into her mouth once more, slowly sucking upon Cassie's shaft. It was something she enjoyed, and Cassie was more than happy to let her have her fun. After all, it felt just as good to her. She began to whisper softly, the words to the spell fresh in her mind. Cassie drew in a deep breath, concentrating. She grinned as Eve let out a surprised yelp, a torrent of precum pouring from her mouth. She had not been expecting such a load. But she was a good girl, and went right back to suckling. Cassie noted that the goo began to glow almost immediately, even before she began to doodle the proper diagrams upon all four of her breasts. Eve also began to buck her hips gently, apparently being coated with Cassie's essence was something that she found quite pleasurable. Her sucking turned from a passive, almost sleepy act, to something more active. Eve's tongue was beginning to get involved, and her hands replaced Cassie's upon her tits as her owner began to cast Mistress' Mark once more. Her moans and motions began to intensify, and Cassie could swear that she saw a red design appear upon her pet's breasts for a brief moment, the mirror image of the one drawn upon herself. Cassie chuckled as she could feel the spell going to work, the saline-filled solidness of Eve's artificial boobs being replaced with natural flesh, flesh that was already beginning to expand beyond the size of her original implants. She didn't seem to notice, so enraptured was she by the sheer pleasure that her rapidly enhancing assets provided her. Soon Eve seemed to be ignoring her, wrapped up entirely in the sensation of her expanding bust. Cassie noticed that her pet's nipples had changed color, altering from pert pink to a deep, almost shiny black. That she herself sported a similar hued set went unnoticed. The shemale grinned and shifted her position so that she was straddling Eve's legs rather than her middle. She quickly found the two dark spots that signaled where her thrall's new tits would be forming. Cassie's touches were teasing and tentative at first, but it quickly became apparent that Cassie's caresses were far more pleasurable than her pets own. Eve moaned like a champion whore, arching her back, her second set of breasts now a handful for Cassie to caress. The shemale giggled and leaned down, running her tongue over one of Eve's upper nipples. They felt odd, slick and almost rubbery to the touch. The multibreasted secretary had begun to leak a familiar sweet, delicious fluid. Cassie was quite sure that if she pulled away and looked in the mirror, she would find her tongue faintly glowing with the strange translucent substance that she seemed to secrete in the place of both precum and semen. Cassie found herself taken by a sudden urge, pushing her tongue against the center of the nipple itself. To her surprise she found that it gave a bit, stretching around her intruding appendage. The shemale giggled, feeling like a hummingbird licking nectar out of a flower. As odd as it was, it seemed to be driving Eve crazy. Her pet's cries of pleasure were becoming more and more frantic, her motions more frenzied. She felt it was time to grant her pet the release she'd been craving all evening. "Mmm... you know, my pet, you didn't get anything dumped on you earlier." Eve's eyes fluttered opens and she drew in a deep breath, almost like she was awakening from slumber. Cassie grinned wickedly. "There weren't any leaky pipes, hun," she purred. "What happened was that I came all over you. Apparently I cum buckets," she said with a giggle. The mistress slipped her hand beneath her pet's skirt, slipping inside sodden panties. "And you know what? I think you will too," she said as she ran her fingers over Eve's swollen, massively oversensitive clit. The secretary's cry was loud enough to rattle glass as she climaxed. Her body pressed against her mistress as hard as her locked muscles could manage, as if she sought to make as much of her body meet Cassie's own as she could. The shemale's words turned to be prophecy, as a tide of juices rushed from Eve's pussy with an impressive volume and velocity. Cassie chuckled as she lapped the thicker, more luminous fluids of pleasurable climax from her fingers. "Not quite up to firehose intensity, my pet. But I bet we could get you there eventually." Eve could do nothing but lie in the pool of her own making, gasping for breath. It was only a few moments later that she noticed the alteration to her bust. "H-how?" she panted. "Wh-what did you do to them?" Eve's voice was a mixture of fear, awe, lust, but most of all wonderment and gratitude. "Does it matter?" Cassie purred, planting a kiss upon each of Eve's four breasts, making her pet's eyes widen. "F-f-four? Oh God, I'm a f-freak!" The shemale groped each breast in turn, making Eve quiver with delight. "Maybe, but doesn't being a freak just make you so horny?" A blush spread across Eve's face as she turned and looked away, a shamed look upon her face. "Admit it. Come on, doesn't the thought of having four huge, sensitive, wonderful breasts just make you wet? I bet you've never felt anything like that in your life, have you?" Eve's blush merely deepened as Cassie's tongue began to trace over her nipples. "C'mon, admit it. Just having these four huge, heaving tits is enough to turn you on. And having them played with like this? I know you love being a freak, and I also know that more than anything right now, you want my cock inside you. Say it." The pet turned her gaze to her mistress, her expression a little fearful, but also full of anticipation. Cassie could see that the secretary, deep down, loved every moment of this. "Say it!" she growled, pushing her tongue as far as it would go into a nipple, drawing a startled cry of pleasure from Eve. Her back arched and she virtually screamed the words, "I love being a freak!" "And?" "A-and," Eve panted, licking her lips. "I need your cock inside me." Not merely want, but need. Cassie grinned, "Mmm... you're my little bitch in heat, aren't you Eve? So I think it only app..." Cassie didn't even have to finish her sentence before her pet rolled over onto all fours, leg spread, pulling off her absolutely saturated panties and tossing them aside. "Good girl," the shemale said with a laugh, "Very good girl..." -o- Sinking her cock into Eve's sopping cunt was just as heavenly as Cassie had imagined. The sexy secretary took every inch of the shemale's manhood with gasping glee; even though it ought to wind up somewhere around the area of her throat, it hilted within Cassie's thrall with only a bit of a bulge in her belly to show for it. Cassie stroked the protrusion for a few moments before her hands wandered elsewhere, one to a heavy breast, and the other to Eve's loins. Already grossly swollen and sensitive, Cassie's merest touch sent her pet into a quivering fit of ecstasy, her perfect lips parting in a whorish moan, one that grew louder as the shemale slipped her fingers into one of Eve's oddly elastic nipples, finger-fucking her breast. Eve's clit responded to her mistress' caresses; Cassie could feel it beginning to grow and swell even further as it also began to elongate. Its shape began to shift as it started to transform into a cock of the girl's own. The lust-stricken thrall didn't seem to notice. After all, another inch of two of pleasurable flesh was nothing in comparison to the alterations that Cassie had already inflicted upon her. The shemale grinned at that idea; Eve's body was so overloaded with raw sexual bliss that she hadn't even noticed that she was well on her way to sporting a cock as her mistress did. It was almost disappointing when Eve suddenly gasped with shock and horror a few moments later, once her pseudo-cock had reached a length long enough for Cassie to wrap her hand around it and introduce her thrall to the wonderful sensations of jacking off. "Oh god no! No, no, no! Please, mistress!" Eve whimpered. "I... I can't..." Her body seemed to freeze, conscious control of her muscles taking over to try and stop herself from the motions of sex. She didn't want to escape, not fully, but Eve seemed to want to make sure that her mistress could see that she was struggling against her, albeit in a way that assured that the pleasure from her fucking didn't stop. Cassie let out a small growl, shifting her fingers just a bit, allowing her talons' sharp tips to press against Eve's sensitive anatomy. "You're not his whore anymore, slave," she snarled. "You and your body belong to me now, and it's going to be best suited for pleasuring me! You think you're the only one that wants to suck on a huge, drooling cock, or having a hot, throbbing rod stuffed into you? Hmm?" Eve shuddered, her growing member letting out a thick, hard jet of goo that splattered onto her breasts. Cassie could tell that her pet had just imagined performing those tasks upon her and found the idea incredibly arousing. Cassie relaxed her threatening talons, though she suspected that the slight pain she'd caused had turned Eve on just as much as offering ideas on what wonders she could perform with her new cock. "But if having a hard-on of your very own is so repulsive to you, then obviously you wouldn't enjoy it. You wouldn't get turned on at the thought of your mistress slowly running her tongue over the thing that sickens you. Or even better, having it big enough that you could suck on it any time you like. Never needing anyone else to get that feeling of fullness in your mouth, of being pumped full of cum that I just know you crave." The secretary let out a pleading moan, her cock surging several inches in length, growing thicker. Neither could see the flesh growing dark smooth, sleek, and slick like Cassie's own cock. But Cassie could feel the shape altering, blossoming into a proper penis rather than a massively oversized, hyena-like pseudopenis of a clitoris. "And the idea of having a pair of big, heavy balls would make you gag in the way no cock between your lips ever would. If you didn't want a dick like mine, just thinking about having someone cup and caress testicles the size of basketballs, running their tongue over the tight skin surrounding them would make you want to puke," Cassie purred, her breath beginning to come in pleasured gasps as she began to thrust harder and harder into Eve. Cassie's thrall began to buck her hips, thrusting her cock into her mistress' hand as the second aspect of her manhood began to grow in. The shemale almost wished she had another pair of arms or something to caress even more of her pet's manifesting maleness. It was long enough now that the head could slip in between Eve's lowermost breasts. "And of course you most certainly would just loath the thought of tit-fucking yourself. Having those huge, fat, sensitive breasts of yours sandwiching your oozing shaft on either side; squeezing into a slick, soft tunnel for you to fuck. You'd be disgusted at the idea of having a cock so big that you'd need all four of them to get the job done." A frightened, but ecstatic sound escaped Eve as her shaft nearly doubled in size in the span of several seconds, enough for her to achieve the act that Cassie had just described. Her tense muscles began to relax, and the secretary couldn't help but start to fully take part in the lovemaking again. Cassie licked her lips, a delighted grin upon her face. The shemale felt a strange, almost pre-climactic sensation. It was like she had a pressure valve somewhere in her body that had more energy building up behind it with each passing moment. It felt like a piece of her on its way to orgasm without any real sex organ to channel the sensation to. A delightful image appeared in her mind, making her smile widen. She nearly climaxed as the fantasy filled her head. Such a pretty picture was too arousing to not share. Cassie leaned down, her heavy breasts pressing against Eve's back so that she could whisper something in her thrall's ear. "Of course if you don't want a cock, you'd be completely horrified at what I'm about to say. After all, if you didn't want a huge cock and balls on your body, you wouldn't just about blow your load at the very thought of finding yourself some cute girl, ripping her clothes off, shoving every inch of your prick into her, making her tummy fat and round with your cum, her belly only growing bigger and bigger as your spawn grow inside her." Cassie wasn't sure why she'd chosen the word 'spawn,' but that whole idea made her body burn with eager, hungry lust. She held her onrushing climax at bay, hoping that her words would have an effect upon her thrall. It wouldn't do for the mistress to cum before her pet, after all. The shemale didn't have to wait long, it only took a moment after she'd spoken her last word before Eve couldn't help but form the mental image in her mind. She howled with blissful climax as her shaft surged to its full size, her matching balls tightening to supply her with the massive amount of glowing goo needed to achieve the fantasy she'd pictured. Of having enough essence to pour into someone to make their belly blow up like a balloon with its presence. And blow up Eve's belly did. Not a drop of Cassie's seed escaped from her eager womb. Her vaginal muscles clamped down with an incredible tightness, assuring that her mistress could not withdraw until the last drop was milked from her shaft. Focused upon that act, neither of them noticed the odd sounds and sensations that had accompanied their climaxes. There was a sound like wet cloth being torn upon the air as both mistress and pet transformed further. A spike of glistening black flesh shot forth from just above the rump, extending further and further into a sinuous length of six or seven feet. Neither Cassie nor Eve noticed their new appendages; it was like they had always been there. Thin, agile, and dexterous, their two tails entwining as master and pet cuddled in the afterglow of their incredible climaxes. Eve's eyes were closed and she gasped for breath for awhile, even after the last of her secondary climaxes passed. But Cassie's were open, and she watched her pet's body transforming further without magical intervention. The changes were ones Cassie found to make Eve more beautiful, more gorgeous, better suited to life as her mistress' perfect fucktoy. She didn't realize that some of the alterations were ones that had already taken place upon her. Eve's growth and the toning of her muscles she noticed, as well as the widening of the hips and rump. The narrowing of her waist went unseen as her cum-bloated middle disguised it. But the alterations to Eve's ears, the subtle shift upon her facial features, a tiny press forward into almost the beginnings of a muzzle, elongation of nails into claws, all were seen by Cassie as her thrall becoming sexier in her eyes, rather than changes of the mistress mirrored upon the pet. "G-god I feel great..." Eve murmured, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her shemale mistress drew her half-hard cock from her depths. Not a drop of glowing goo escaped Eve's bulbous belly. It looked as if she was already carrying a child at full term. The secretary sat up, admiring her altered, goo-covered body and grinned. "Th-thank you, mistress," she said with a bit of a blush. Cassie stood letting out a pleasured sigh as she stretched, her tail swaying, the sensitive new skin feeling wonderful as the air flew over it. "And do you know what the best part of this is? I don't think anyone can see us like this. No one notices anything out of the ordinary. I jacked off during a meeting and no one so much as batted an eye. I bet I could bend you over that desk over there, and the boss wouldn't make a peep." Eve grinned, a shiver going through her body as she imagined the idea. "I... I would just love that. I... I don't think I'll be seeing much more of him outside the workplace. The thought of sex with him just... doesn't excite me anymore." The shemale helped her pet to her feet, their two naked, sticky bodies rubbing against one another, seemingly as much as possible. Cassie gasped softly as her own mind filled with parallel images. "Oh yeah, that all sounds just amazing." The very thought of fucking an animal made Cassie's cock suddenly hard again. Eve looked over herself. "Nothing I own is going to fit, and even if no one can see it I don't want to go out and buy clothes totally naked." Cassie giggled. "Don't worry, I'm going to pick up a few things to fit the new me before I head to the doctor's tomorrow. None of the normal people seem to notice this, but I bet this all has to do with something coming from outside the city. As much as it excites me, I'm not going to let my tits and cock hang out for everyone to stare at. Not unless they're paying for the show, anyway." The shemale planted a gentle kiss upon Eve's lips, the secretary returning it for a moment before hugging her mistress. "Though I wonder what I'm going to do tonight. I can't drive home, I'm not going to show up to work tomorrow naked..." Eve's mistress giggled. "Let me show you this neat place I found here in the building, I'm living there right now. We won't have to leave the building, and you can stay as long as you like. There's plenty of room!" Cassie took her pet by the hand, gleefully heading towards her hidey-hole, a big grin upon her face. There was so much room, and it seemed to be so empty. Mmm... perhaps she ought to start filling up space? There were plenty of cute girls in the office, after all, and she most certainly could have more pets than just Eve. "In fact, there's enough room for a dozen or more people as is, and room for four times as many if we're a bit cramped. Sound like fun, Eve? Getting myself a few more thralls to join in the fun, and mmm... I wonder if I could teach you how to make a pet or two for yourself. Would you like that, mmm?" The secretary gasped as her cock suddenly surged to full hardness. "Oh hells yes! And I know just the girl!" Cassie giggled and patted her pet's cock, "All in time. I've got a busy day tomorrow, and just imagine how much fun it'll be for you to meet your pet to be dressed up all sexy and slutty, your cock jutting out of a short leather miniskirt..." Both girls' cocks began to leak at the thought of that as they walked hand in hand and tail around tail down the hall towards their empty, but soon to be filled home.

(F partial TF cow, M TF bull) It was mid summer and Mike was driving an empty milk tanker out to Farlane Ranch some ways out of the city. It was his first time driving the milk truck out this way, and he was fairly new to the job in general. His boss was usually the one to drive out here but he was off sick, forcing Mike to take the wheel a bit earlier than planned. He could do the job just fine, but it was a bit of a surprise to the ranchers having a younger man arrive instead of the usual driver. This was no trouble for most of his route. He drove faster than his boss did and because he was younger he could pitch in and help the ranchers easier loading the tanker, so Mike was actually ahead of schedule, which was also a nice thing for most stops. Untill he got to Farlane that is. Mae, Maggy, and Mary were the self proclaimed milk maidens of Farlane, and seemed a bit flustered when Mike arrived considerably ahead of schedule. They told him he would have to wait, they still needed to shift things around and do plenty of lifting. Mike of course offered to help them immediately but for some reason they refused, just telling him that the barn wasn't set up for visitors and they would be fine on their own. It made Mike feel a bit awkward, seeing three women doing so much heavy lifting and not being able to lend a hand. This was the last stop for the day though, so he had nowhere else to be. Now idle, the inside of the truck was starting to cook in the sunlight so Mike wandered around the huge empty milk tanker. He was still starting to sweat even out in the breeze the wind was warm too. He was not allowed in the barn, and he did not even want to ask if he could sit in their house, he would feel way too intrusive even if they let him, so he wandered over to some trees. There was a row of apple trees at the edge of the fencing on the outward facing side of the ranch, hiding the fields from view from the outside and providing nice shade between the house and the barns. The property was gigantic, but Mike did not actually see all that many cows. For the ammount of milk they shipped and the land they had to fill, there was a surprisingly small number of cows. Usually ranches packed their lands to crank production as high as it could go, but these cows were living large with plenty of room and accomodations for each. Mike sighed at the immediate releif from the sunlight in the shade of the apple trees. Since it was summer there was no fruit on these trees yet- they would not bloom till early autumn. He chuckled at the sight of the cows out of the field divided into two groups, laying around two wide, squat trees out on the field for shade as well. Too much heat even for their thick skin. What Mike seen the next moment though took his breath away. Literally- he forgot to breath for several seconds. Another woman was running back to the house from the barn he did not see at first. She was younger than the other three, and was not listed as one of the owners. Her skin glistened with a fine sweat, clearing having been helping the other women, but even more notably her middriff was exposed thanks to her breasts holding her shirt so far away from her body. As she ran her boobs wobbled around wildly within her clothing. She was wearing a bra, but her tits were so gigantic the poor undergarment could not possibly hold them still even if it was made of metal. Her boobs were so big she must have accidentally pressed them up against something because there was wet patches right where her nipples would be- he could faintly see her bra through her shirt where it was wet. Her hair was straight to her shoulders, and her bangs were left far too long- long enough that it looked like she should not be able to see anything, her eyes were covered. It was black like the other women, but hers had a big white streak over either temple. Unusually white- getting it that perfectly white in those two places by bleaching would be extremely difficult... and terrible for the hair. Before Mike knew it she vanished into the house. Damn, she was gorgeous. And stacked. He completely forgot about the milk truck for now and was just waiting for the mysterious beauty to return. Impatient, Mike wandered toward the house, seeing if he could see any activity through the windows- forgetting his manners in the moment. He immediately heard the door as it opened again a few minutes later and she came back out- having dried off the wetness on the front of her shirt. Her breasts seemed smaller than when she ran in too. Maybe it was an illusion created from all the movement, or maybe she tightened her bra? She was still huge either way. Mike was pretty small for a man, and she was the same height he was, so her huge tits looked especially big compared to the rest of her. The girl immediately spotted Mike- not only for being out of place but because he was too smitten to not stare openly at her. She smiled a bit nervously. "Can... I help you?" Only then did he realize he was gawking at her unblinking. "O-oh sorry, spaced out. I am Mike, the new milk truck driver. Boss is sick so I had to swap in on short notice. You one of the workers here?" "Uh ye-well... family. I am Molly." She shook his hand and he had to try his hardest to not allow his line of sight to fall down the cavernous cleavage jiggling infront of him. Mike thought it was a cow he heard, but the jingling he ignored before apparently came from Molly herself- hanging over her collar bone was a classic, boxy cow bell. It attached to a flexible black lace choker instead of a rope, but it was definately a bell generally used to track cows. Her hand was so soft and warm when she shook his! Her skin was powder soft, pale peach. Her mouth seemed small on her face and her lips were pale pink and pillowy for their small size. She did not wear makeup but also clearly did not need it, she was beautiful! She gave him a bit of a sympathetic look, as if understanding his bewilderment at her appearance, but unfortunately for Mike, told him she was also rather busy and could not talk to him really. She told him he could wander around if he wanted but not to go into any of the buildings. Mike waited patiently in the shade of the trees again, though his mind constantly wandered now to Molly. He wondered what she was doing in that barn. There was three large barns, the truck was parked at the farthest one where the three women helped each other set up the pump to transfer the milk from their cooling units to the trucks tank. But Molly went into the nearest barn, she wasn't helping the other women, but had been in a hurry anyway. Mike's cock jumped in his pants at the sound of a breathy suppressed moan from the barn! He wandered closer to the wall of the barn and could hear Molly breathing heavily inside. What was she doing? He then heard the distressing sound of cracking and popping bone and she cried out quietly again! Oh no, she must have tried to lift something too heavy and broke something! Ignoring the request to not enter any of the buildings, Mike quickly dashed in through the side door. "H-hey, are you ok? I thought I heard something break." Molly was standing in the middle of a terrible clutter, and quickly turned her back to him, grabbing at something quickly to hide from him. She did not seem hurt at all... he could have sworn he heard shifting bone. "You know we are supposed to help customers too, right? Hasn't my boss been helping you guys out with loading the truck and that before? I feel like I am only doing half my job here." Her voice was a bit breathless, and only sounded nervous. "Hah...h-he also isn't this early usually. He arrives at the exact same time every time. We are fine. You shouldn't be in here." "Ok, ok. I just wanted to help, it sounded like you were in trouble. I am not a loudmouth, it isn't like I am going to go blab trade secrets or anything." He did glance around though since he was already in here. The middle barn was the one for animals, the last one for milk processing and storage, this one... he did not even know what all the stuff was. There was strange arcane arrays and what looked like alchemical materials destillers, potion cool storage and lots of other such equipment that seemed a bit out of place on a ranch. He went to leave but could not take his eyes off Molly. She was frozen stiff... was she actually hurt and just did not want him to find out? It was then he noticed a tube running around her hip... from her tailbone. That was what she grabbed to hide from him when he came in. She refused to turn and face him because she was hiding it still. "Is... that... a tail?" Molly let go of her tasseled tail and let out a squeak of surprise, not knowing what to do now that she had been found out. The tasseled end was black with a single white streak... like the hair on her head. The others would kill her if she blew the lid off this secret, she had to do something, fast! Molly very slowly turned to face Mike, doing her best to look seductive. Molly was nervous as hell and felt like a goof doing it, thinking it was a total crap shoot, not realising she did not have to actually try at all to wrap Mike around her finger. His brow twitched in confusion, and he even squinted a bit, thinking the dim barn lighting was playing tricks with him. Her breasts again seemed smaller, her shirt lowered a bit more, and there appeared to be a bulge in the front of her pants, just a bit of its soft pink surface visible from the waistband. Her tail flicked around randomly behind her and her hair flipped up seemingly on its own for a second as two long leaf shaped ears emerged from under it. Her hips swayed with her steps as she walked toward him, one foot in front of the other. But as she stepped he realised she had no feet at all. As soon as she lifted her leg her socks and shoes fell off and what emerged was a dainty cloven hoof- a cows foot. She had a fine cow fur just over it, covering her ankles but went no higher than that. Molly glanced down at her jiggling tits as she walked, deliberately getting his eyes to follow and stick to her chest. Her hooves clicked on the wooden floor in a rhythem. She placed her hands on either of his shoulders and he realised she was taller than him now. Because most of her leg was still human, but she was ungulate now giving her more height since she was effectively standing on her toenails. She giggled and smiled at him, distracting him as she guided him back step by step unknowingly. She faked tripping, shoving him backward a bit before kicking forward quickly with a hoof and catching a canister with the sharp hard edge of a hoof. It released a pressurised vapor and misted Mike. "Oh geeze, I am so sorry! What a mess! I am a bit clumsy on my hooves it seems. Here- lets go outside the sun and wind will dry that off." "O-oh, ok. What was in that thing anyway?" "Oh... don't worry about that." She quickly scooted him outside back into the shade of the apple trees, and the temperature difference outside was much better. It was musty and hot in the barn. She lead him to a tree, pressing him up against it before lowering her head and chuckling a bit. When she did, he noticed she now had two small horns on her head, poking up through her hair! "Ok, you have to keep this is a secret, ok Mike? A big secret. You can never tell anyone, not even the other women here that you seen me, ok?" "Oh...k. But what... I mean, why do you have... ears like that? And a tail, and horns...?" "Oh? Is that all I have? Wanna know an even bigger secret Mike?" Her voice was breathy in a mock whisper. She moved her face close to him and he could see her nostrils had gotten a bit bigger, and her nose wider. The end of her nose was starting to turn and adorable candy pink. She used a free hand to pull the waist of her pants out and down, letting the bulge out to sit on the wasitband. "I looove being milked~" The bulge she released as a cow udder, the size of a half soccer ball sticking out of her crotch! The teats were just fat nubs, no where near the size of an actual cows. He did not see her breasts tightening and flattening against her, her bra falling loose and her shirt finally starting to lower. Mike was too mesmerised by the udder he was now gawking at, because as he watched it grew fatter. Milk veins throbbed on the surface where it met her torso, already the milk glands full to capacity, demanding release or more growth to put it. The teats started to get longer, and Molly gently rocked her hip back and forth causing them to softly flop back and forth as beads of white formed on them. The udder itself bloated, getting rounder and heaver, pulling farther out and down from weight. Mike's erection was harder than it had ever been at the sight, and he was far too infatuated with Molly to notice his cock was actually stretching longer than normal. His balls started to inflate quickly, stretching the scrotum as it covered with a fine sand colored fur. Molly pushed down on his shoulders, guiding him into a sitting position, and used her other hand to cup and gently jiggle her udder for him, inviting him to drink of her sweet cream. Molly was not sure if it was the sound of straining fabric or flesh, but she audibly heard stretching as Mike started to grow bigger just as he took a teat in his mouth. Her udder was still growing bigger and fatter, heavier. Big enough that she would have to walk with an awkward gate to give it space, and heavy enough that she could not remain standing for long if it was not emptied. Thanks to inhuman calcium levels, her bones were hard as steel, but her muscles were not metal infused. Her face continued to shift, her upper jaw sticking out just slightly as the bottom of her nose sort of merged with it, giving her a partial cows face- though it did not stretch out into a muzzle. She could feel her tongue fatten up in her mouth getting much larger too. She had to stop. She was willing herself to stop, it was hard once things got going- momentum and all that. Her ears were also huge on her head now, a long eared cow. Her fingers stiffened in preparation of turning to hooves but did not change, she managed to stop it before that. Her breasts were a normal human C cup now so her top actually fit loosely and covered her entire torso like it was supposed to. Molly and Mike's eyes went wide at the sound of cracking bone again and Molly gently took the back of his head and forced him farther onto her udder, smooshing his face into the silky smooth, hot rubbery flesh of the bloated organ. His feet were stretching out into hooves like hers, she could not let him find out yet. When she looked down to see his changes, she also noted the huge bulge in his pants and her heart hammered a little bit faster. After a few moments he started to jerk his head back, and she realised she was unintentionally smothering him- he couldn't breath properly. She let him go and he pulled off, gasping for breath for several moments while she sat in the sun warmed grass. He thought she had gotten holstein spots, but it was actually just the sunlight filtering through the leaves above, creating splotches of light and shadow on her. She started to squirm on the soft grass and strip out of her clothes entirely and Mike's eyes went wide as he silently watched. He was oddly absentminded. Unaware his thoughts were actually simplifying a bit. His entire body felt a gentle but persistant pressure, and it felt stiff because of it. Like he was too big for his own skin. His cock throbbed hard enough to shove the waist of his pants out of the way as it stretched longer, now poking up out of his clothing and the glans were being stretched out, losing definition against the shaft, becoming more of a tapered phallus. His clothes filled up very quickly as he slowly continued to grow larger, pulling tight against him as his muscles also pulled tight with his flesh. The curvature of his new muscle mass became more and more visible as the skin was pulled into the crevices between, and the seams of his clothing deepened as the fabric became overstuffed with too much man. "I feel so... weird. Why don't my clothes fit?" "Why are you even wearing clothing? I am not~" She let her panties drop off her fingertip as she said that- the last item she removed. Her huge bloated udder obscured the view of her fat pink labia though teasingly. "Yea but... I am just here on business... what about... hrnnnn~" He hunched over a bit and his shoulder and upper back muscles bulged, causing the back of his shirt to rip in half! "What about..." His voice started to deepen. "The other women?" "Eat what is on your plate first, big boy. Aren't I enough cow for you?" "You aren't... well..." "I am. Its ok, you can call me a cow. That is why you are changing, ain't it?" "W-wuuh? Oooh uurr..." His hips widened, straining his pants and his genitals bulged even bigger, squeezing far too tight in the clothing. He frantically tried to get his pants off but his hands did not work correctly. It was only now that he seen they were changing into hooves, and that his feet had already fully turned! "What is hapuuuhning to me?" His voice continued to deepen, sounding thunderous by now. His neck was thickening greatly. "You are letting loose, like me. Aren't you? You aren't afraid to admit you are just a big bumb bull, right?" "N-nuuuh, I am human! I don't know what is happening to either of us!'" "Well..." She twirled the hair on her tails tassel idly. "I am a cow. I can look like a human, but that doesn't change what I really am. And you are a big strong bull, obviously." "Nuuh!" Mike squirmed into a squat and then onto all fours finally as his pants exploded appart, releiving his poor squished crotch. His hands were almost completely hooves now though, and now that his clothes burst off he seen his genitals were very different! His balls were giant and so heavy they stretched the scrotum out quite long. He now had a furry sheath that ran up his crotch and stomach a bit before finally giving way to his cock, which was bright pink and tapered now, and very long. He felt a gentle tingle and involuntary muscle twitches in his lower back and glanced back to see his tailbone starting to grow out. "Nuh, Mik- me- I am huuuman! I am not suppose... I not turn bull." It was hard to think with his raging erection, especially now that it was exposed to the female! And she was fully explosed to him. She was so pink and soft and smooth! Molly sat on her legs and pressed her hands down onto the top of her udder. Her teats all stood up as she pushed down and the pressure shifted forward into them, and the long teats started to drizzle milk on their own. "Then why would you drink milk straight from a cow?" Mike could not fathom a response to that. She wasn't a cow though... was she? He supposed she certainly looked like one now, but she was fully human before... what... was she, really? Mike groaned with a voice so deep it almost sounded like a growl. His entire body started to grow bigger again. His hips started to shift form, making it impossible to stand even if he tried. But he did not want to try yet, he needed to talk to Molly to figure out what was happening. And be with her. Have more of that delicious milk. She seemed to like him, so she wouldn't let anything actually bad happen to him... right? She might even let him mate... er, breed- NO. Date, her? Was that the human word for it? Why was it so hard to figure that out. Why did he just reffer to it as a 'human word' like it was alien to him?! "Huuughmun..." His voice sounded strained, mirroring the sound of stretching muscle tissue as he grew still larger. Molly giggled in her melodic voice. Mike could see a breif glimmer of her seafoam green iris behind her hair when the breeze took it and the light filtering down from the leaves caught. Mike was breathing very heavily as his nostrils expanded trying to keep up. So hot. It was hot out, the change created heat, his cock gave off heat like a radiator coil, and Molly was hot. SO hot. He wanted to just flop ontop of her, to feel as much of his hide against hers at once as possible. To be as close as he could be to her... to be IN her. His cock connected to the ground infont of him by a glistening strand of pre as it bobbed back and forth as if aggreeing to something. "But you want me... don't you?" She bat her eyelashes in a false pout. "You want to fuck a cow?" "Yusss... wait! Nuh, I... hnnnnngh." He grew bigger, his huge muscles deformed the shape of his torso, barreling out and losing human definition. "Yes, or no? It can't be both., silly. If you were a human, why are you getting so bent out of shape over a cow like me? You're loosing your human shape completely." "Hnngh... Mike nuuh ani... animooo... cow. But want Mooolly." "Well of course you aren't a cow." Mike sighed in releif, trying to stand properly on all fours, his body was scrunched up awkwardly because he did not change his stance when his body got longer. "You're a BULL. I am a cow." Mike groaned loudly again as his heart increased in size greatly, hammering as if in responce to her calling him out for what he was. The pressure exploded up into his head, causing his vision to go a bit blue as his neck bloated up tremendously with thick pulsing veins and stretching forward as his face mirrored it. His nostrils now giant, stretching his nose out wide, his nose and upper lip met like on Molly's face, but unlike on hers, his continued to press outward. Lunging forward at the opportunity she silenced his weak protests with a kiss, and their cool wet noses bopped together. As she kissed him she continued to try and walk forward, putting all her strength into it as he held his front hooves as if they were still hands. She managed to force him up onto his butt and then with a nudge their kiss broke as he fell backwards and slammed on the ground with a massive thud that shook the earth around them. If there was apples in the trees yet, they would have likely been showered with them. Before his much slower bull mind could comprehend what happened she was ontop of him and the feeling of her rubbery udder flesh smooshing against him immediately took up all the brain cells he had. He wanted to hug her even closer to him and smell her hair but his torso grew longer, and did not allow flexibility, he could not sit up at all. With a coy smile Molly slid back, sliding his long cock into her fat pussy lips and swallowing it into her. Her torso and hips were still human so she could not take all of his cock in her, but she did manage over half still. Mike was already bombarded with so much pleasure and strange sensation that he immediately started to skyrocket toward orgasm just at the thought of being in such a beautiful cow. Human? Female human... what was the word...? Was she human? She said she was a cow, that was why she was a perfect fit for him. Mike wanted to be a perfect fit, he wanted to stay in her more, so she had to be cow. Bulls fuck cows, it made sense. Molly furrowed her bushy eyebrows behind her long bangs- he seemed to mentally cave in, but his final physical changes were being stubborn. Maybe he did not have enough brain cells to mentally will it forward anymore. In the cutest tone she could manage she spoke up, sitting up tall to press down hard into his cock and smoosh her udder into him. "Mooooo~!" Mike looked at her, a bit confused. Did Molly want something...? The bull out in the field mooed back. Molly glanced at him annoyed. "Not you, Tank." She looked back into Mike's eyes. "Mu-oooooh~! Moooou." "Muh!" Air started to rush up from his lungs in bursts, as if trying to forcfully push out. "Muuuuh..." His neck started to throb longer and his face filled with massive pressure and started to stretch further and further out. Was he turning bull, or human? Which was he turning into now? What was he before this? Bull? But he was arguing about that with her. Was he arguing? He did not want to argue with Molly. Maybe it was only playing? She rocked her hips back and forth, shifting the pressure of his cock from fron to back of her pussy. "Oooh mooooo~!" "MUHOOOO" His face pressed out even more in a huge surge, finally turning completely into a bull's head. With a few final grunts he bobbed his head and two horns burst out, sliding quickly from his flesh. Mike was completely bull now. Mike thrust one final time without even thinking, with what little mobility and strength he could manage to get his huge heavy hips off the ground to ram into her more, and he exploded in orgasm. His balls waved up and down one after another like they were bobbing on a wavy ocean tide. She ran out of room to hold it all and the cum burst out around the sides of the cock, painting his own groin. Still gasping for his breath, Mike rolled onto his side and Molly quickly hopped off, not wanting to get squashed under him. She wiped the sweat from her brow and quickly tried to get dressed again as quickly as she could. "Good thing my hips did not change- I doubt your shooting blanks." Molly started to slowly turn back to fully human as she dressed. The smaller her udder shrank, the larger her breasts ballooned, once again lifting the shirt off her. Once fully dressed she started pacing back and forth looking rather worried. She needed to figure out what to do next with this now half sleeping bull. Mae came around the corner without her even seeing till she had been watching for several minutes. "Molly, what the hell is this bull doing here?!" Molly visibly jumped as she turned to face her aunt. Not all of her cow features were suppressed yet. "The driver! He was snooping around! My potion is starting to wear off, I tried to dodge him but he disobeyed and came into the barn and seen me. I had to do something." Mae's brow slowly started to soften. "Ok, makes sense I guess. What version of the potion did you hit him with?" "The latest." Mike looked at Mae and she went over to him and waved a hand infront of him to see how 'there' he was. "Did you explain to him WHY you turned him into a strong, dumb animal?" "Uh... I am a cow, so if he wants me that much he must be a big dumb bull! I explained it in bovine terms." Mae facepalmed. "That is both somewhat insulting to yourself, and a real non-explanation." Mae turned to Mike and spoke slowly, hoping as much as possible stuck in his devolved mind. "Ok, to put this simply- you seen too much and Molly did this to make sure you were physically incapable of telling anyone what happened here. You see, us three sisters, me, Mary, and Maggy had to use a combination of magic and alchemy to turn ourselves into demi cows to increase the production of the ranch ourselves to pull it out of a downward financial spiral." Mae blushed. "It worked so well we just kept doing it, thus our high output. Buuuut, Mary once turned herself fully into a cow once, like you are a bull right now... and also accidentally got knocked up. She gave birth to a calf- Molly. So, we put our enginuity to work and created a backwards version of our original potion based spell. We created a potion to turn a cow into a human." Mae motioned over to Molly who just timidly waved back. "Molly literally is a cow. When the potions effects run out she starts to turn back into a bovine. She can resist it somewhat but eventually it will wear off regradless and she needs another dose to remain human. You caught her at the tail end of her last dose, so she was starting to turn back into her true self." Molly started to shift from one foot to the other nervously. "So... what do we do with him now?" Mae glanced at the semen in the grass near the bull, then to Molly. "Do you like him?" Molly blushed brightly. "I barely know him! Besides, I can't just keep him as a pet!" Mae laughed. "Well, technically yes you could. Morally, no you can't. I don't know... he will slowly start to turn back to human when it starts to wear off in about half a day, we can try to work something out with his human mind before too much of it returns at once. I mean, he must have been pretty fond of you so we got that to work off of." Mae went to return to her sisters, and gave a firm slap on Molly's ass as she walked past. "And I won't tell your mother you fucked a bull." "I-I didn't..." By the time she turned around Mae had already turned the corner of the barn. "Hrmm..." She glared at Mike who just lowed at her. "This is your own damn fault." Mike just lowered his head again on the soft grass. This patch was warm with sun. Grass comfy. Mike like it here.

No one quite remembered just when or how things had gone wrong, only that, in one moment, everything was perfectly fine, and in the next, reality itself seemed to implode as the entire structure of the multiverse came crashing down on itself. Some claimed that the top gods (or top god, as the case may be) had finally gotten tired of curating their realms, while others still swore up and down that what had taken place was just part of the natural cycle of existence, and they just happened to be unlucky enough to go through the worst bits. Whatever the case may be, the fact of the matter was that the surviving pockets where things could be were radically altered as a result of the collapse, and with contact between individual universes either cut or severely restricted, each cosmos was left to stick out for themselves; it certainly didn’t help that travel within each reality was also made all-but impossible thanks to the enormous amount of dimensional disturbances, effectively leaving every world to fend for itself when before they could rely on a multiversal supply chain that no one thought could physically be disrupted. One of the oddest alterations to the underlying fabric of existence, however, was that physicality in general became… different. One could be forgiven for thinking that whatever god exploded in the great beyond happened to be one of fertility, since while the vast majority of things in general remained unaltered, organic bodies for sentient creatures underwent a colossal transformation, and quite literally at that; there used to be something akin to an average when it came to bodily proportions, with it being possible to determine what was “small” and what was “large”. Very occasionally, someone would be born with the right genetic sequence to unlock some sort of extreme propensity for immense proportions, with the general belief being that it had something to do with how their multiversal cluster had been created by a deity in a moment of sexual gratification; whatever the case may be, this belief turned into nothing short of a certainty when, after the great collapse, thoughts of averages or decency went straight down the drain, when everyone, quite literally everyone alive was turned into a significantly larger version of themselves. Everything, from busts multiplying in size, to packages that grew more numerous and productive, linked together with cocks large enough to crush large trucks, along with a general increase in overall size, meant that the smallest people around were still larger than what “hypers” had been back before the multiverse had its little oopsie. Trying to explain this was all-but impossible, at least until the gods themselves bothered to show up and actually provide some much-needed clarification on what had even happened, so most folk simply moved on with their lives and did their best to adapt to their new state; it wasn’t easy, especially with how the disparity between “normal” individuals and plus-sized ones was still there, only exacerbated further by how the baseline had shifted so much. If hypers used to just be large enough to get stuck in doors, now they were walking disaster areas waiting to happen, barely holding onto their own bodies through a combination of willpower, compression equipment, and a great heaping dose of sexual relief at several points in the day. It wasn’t enough for them to just live their lives normally; they had to be fully drained and serviced at just about any time they wanted, or else the consequences would be catastrophic on a very, very large scale. And if that wasn’t enough, the instability caused by the multiverse collapsing caused a new phenomenon to rear its ugly head: they were mostly called “rifts”, or variations thereof, and were localized spatiotemporal distortions that appeared without warning, absent any explanation, and refused to go away until someone dove into them and cleared out whatever was maintaining it from the inside. It made little sense that these tears in spacetime always led into some kind of dungeon complex, not unlike what one might find in an adventure game; perhaps the entity (or, heavens forfend, entities) responsible for them were just trying to have fun with their new playthings, poking and prodding at the lowly mortals they were tormenting in order to derive as much sick pleasure out of it as possible… or, perhaps, the god or gods responsible for the multiversal collapse had made such a mess of things that the whole thing had turned into one huge series of narrative tropes turned inside out and upside down, with the very story that made up their meta-existence altered to better fit the framework created with the post-apocalyptic setting they found themselves in. Regardless of what the reason may be, however, something clearly had to be done, seeing as the rifts weren’t going anywhere unless someone went in, cleared the dungeon within, then closed the whole thing for good; and in one particular case, in one particular world, the answer came in a rather unorthodox form. While each individual planet had to take care of their problems in their own, unique way, for the one watched over by what remained of that universe’s divine bureaucracy, the answer was simple: assembling the best and the brightest folk around, then organizing them in strike teams to tackle as many rifts as possible. It took a while before the various Legendaries, reeling from the trauma of being disconnected from their meta-universal progenitors, to get their shit together for long enough to devise a plan of action, but as soon as they managed, as soon as they focused their intellects towards assembling a group of experts who could handle the rifts as “boots on the ground”, so to speak, the tides began turning almost immediately. Granted, the problem turned out to be somewhat less catastrophic than initially assumed, given that with larger forms came larger powers, turning what should have been a challenge into a cakewalk most of the time, but at least there was order, and from order could come progress. That is, until one trio in particular walked into the scene, under the auspices of a Mewtwo goddess in charge of one of the world’s regions; while initially the idea of sending the most powerful of her demi-god sons down onto the world itself to participate in the rift-delving project was far too much for her to even consider, the deity eventually came around to it once the Espeon, having decided that regular methods wouldn’t work, set about reminding his mother just what sort of “opportunities” were waiting for him down below. After all, he had been quite blessed by his divine heritage; even within the realm of the excessive, his was a form that would stand out in any crowd, given that, even at his absolute smallest, he was still ludicrously huge… below the waist, that is. He might only be ten feet tall, and his upper body might be entirely unremarkable, but if ever there was someone who could be called pear-shaped, it was him: the ass he sported was large enough to compete with just about anyone, really, and if he didn’t get it stuck in doors, it was only because he had smashed straight through them. One could easily sink half of their arm into each cheek and still find enough pudge to keep going, inviting those who were braver than most to approach him, enabling the Espeon to deliver his true prize; for despite the fact that his ass was as massive as it was, it still only ranked third behind the other two immense weights that Harris had down below: those being his two nuts and that colossal pillar of meat he called a dick. The latter was, by all accounts, absurd in size: even when fully flaccid, the Espeon could still pick it up and pull it towards himself, using it as a full-sized body pillow; though it may be entirely soft, it was still as big as he was, leaving no room for the imagination when it came to picturing what it would be like when pumped full of blood. His nuts, too, were so gargantuan in comparison with the rest of his frame that it was a wonder he could even walk properly at all; unbeknownst to most, the Espeon did have to resort to his divine heritage in order to make it easier to move without going through a climax with each step. All in all, however, a set of blessings that made it clear to any watching that the demi-god fucked, and would happily throw himself at whoever asked him to, several times in a row, unending, bottomless, until he was asked for mercy by someone who clearly was in way over their head. And that was exactly what he reminded his mom: that down below, in the lands wracked by dimensional disturbances, was a literal world of opportunities for her to watch as her son plowed his way through the planet, fixing rifts by day and ruining beds by night, among other, even more crass and disturbingly scandalous claims. Even worse was how the Mewtwo goddess herself eventually caved in and join in on the fun, with the two deities going out of their way to make their intentions fully clear to one another on a daily basis until, at long last, Harris’ mom relented and let him join up with the project… on the condition that she get to pick who was on his team. Beside himself with glee, the Espeon fully agreed without even thinking of what that truly meant, only to then later on be met with the consequences of his actions, in the form of his first teammate: an Alakazam who was even bigger than he was. Height and package only though, as Harris was still the undisputed king when it came to ass size, which was perfectly fine as far as he cared, since he could finally put his cheeks to good use hotdogging a cock large enough to actually service him properly; given the sheer gargantuan girth of those things, each one being of sufficient width that Harris could feel the ground even while standing up fully, that was certainly saying something. That this was the first thing he told Lee, the Alakazam he was meant to work with, set them off on a rather unorthodox business relationship, but for his part, Lee himself took the comment in stride; it wasn’t every day that he himself got to meet someone who was his equal in terms of raw size (even if not intellect), and besides, he had been looking for new and novel ways to unwind in between assignments, ever since his latest team was disbanded following an unfortunate string of injuries that sent most of them to the recovery ward for several months. With nothing better to do, Lee, though he was thoroughly stunned after being approached by a literal goddess, agreed to act as the “retainer” for the Mewtwo’s progeny, thinking he was about to meet some sheltered divine aristocrat, rather than the rambunctiously raunchy Espeon that went out of their way to start being as lewd as possible right out the gate. Together, the two of them would make a fine team indeed; with Harris’ connection to the gods and Lee’s immense analytical skills, they could easily delve into any rift dungeon and face any challenge it might throw at them. In fact, they would very quickly form a much deeper relationship that bordered on the downright romantic, creating for themselves a dynamic that appeared unbreakable... if not for the third person assigned to their team. This one wasn’t given to them by the Mewtwo goddess, but rather another member of the surviving celestial hierarchy, who saw in Lee and Harris an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. At first glance, the Growlithe was… well, she was frankly far too big, to be fair. Even without getting into all the additional details that made her into a problem that even the gods couldn’t contain, Mina was huge, topping out at about thirty-five feet in height (but never lower than thirty; how exactly her height varied on an hour-to-hour basis was never really explained) and possessed of curves that most people would kill for: a bust large enough to cover her entire upper body and spill over several feet on each side of their torso (with some generous coverage of her legs as well), going down to a plump bottom that, while still not as large as the Espeon’s in proportion, was definitely so in absolute terms, leaving Harris ever-so-slightly envious of it; to wrap it up, her form was adorned in musculature so perfectly defined, so well-sculpted and amazingly shaped, that just from glancing at Mina, anyone could tell she’d be capable of bending whatever theoretically strongest alloy there could ever exist without even realizing she was doing so. Of course, such a body required ample nourishment in order to be maintained, and given the level of power she had access to, this translated into Mina needing to consume several hundred times her body weight in food every single meal, which eventually led to most of the region’s supply chain being repurposed to feed her exclusively, given the nutritional requirements she had hanging over her. Thankfully, her ample bosom produced enough milk to substitute all of this food and then some, and though a switch to an all-milk diet was extremely taxing at first, the populace eventually grew to appreciate it, especially since it caused residual growth over medium-to-long periods of time, almost as if Mina was so large that she had to share her very size with others. Add to all this a myriad of additional capabilities that bordered on the ludicrous, and it was clear why that interloping god decided to throw her in with the newly-formed Harris-Lee team: not only was the Growlithe extremely fast, to the point of being able to break the speed of light just via a casual stroll, but her intellect eclipsed that of Lee’s, who fancied himself the second-smartest Pokémon in his region (and for good reason, given Mina’s existence). In many ways, she didn’t really need a team; not only was she more than capable of effectively closing every rift for hundreds of miles around without even breaking a sweat, and all of them near-simultaneously as well, but she could do so while taking time off to help fix whatever random problems the populace had been having that day, all without anyone even noticing she had been there to begin with. This caused plentiful headaches for the celestial hierarchy, who were desperate to come up with an explanation as to why this Growlithe, who hadn’t even evolved yet, could surpass them in terms of sheer power when they weren’t even a demi-goddess, let alone a full deity. It was their hope, and eventually the Mewtwo’s as well, that Harris and Lee would serve as “anchors” of a sort, keeping Mina under control, operating within strict guidelines, and, most importantly, away from any Fire Stones that might possibly get near her. Not that anyone thought Mina would abuse the inevitable surge of power, but their world was already battered enough, and certainly didn’t need a giantess ascending to hyper-godhood to add to its extensive list of troubles. This was, of course, a complete waste of time on the celestial hierarchy’s part, because the last thing on Mina’s mind was to do something as silly as go on a growth rampage; that would be extremely rude of her without making sure everyone was perfectly fine with it first! Besides, as much as the gods “above” her liked to think otherwise, they weren’t exactly in a position where they could enforce any demands; the Growlithe was fast enough that she could feasibly just run around the planet and collect every Fire Stone in existence in under a minute or so if she truly wanted it, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop her. That she hadn’t yet evolved into an Arcanine was her choice, no one else’s, but Mina being Mina, she decided to let everyone think they had a lot more agency than they did; not out of a desire for subterfuge, but mostly because it made everyone else more comfortable, and that was all that mattered in the end. So it was that the three of them were grouped together and informed they would be handling rift missions going forward, with Lee and Harris being surreptitiously informed that their real job was to accompany Mina and make sure she didn’t get her hands on a Fire Stone. The Mewtwo goddess, for all that she was more than happy to joke around with Harris in ways that would be seen as downright scandalous by most regular-thinking folk, was utterly terrified of the idea of what might happen should the Growlithe evolve; thus, while she was content to let the most grandiose of her progeny go around acting the hero, she made sure to remind him that he was still of divine lineage, and being so, part of his role was to ensure the stability of the world around him. Sometimes this meant doing nothing and letting mortals go about resolving their own issues; others, it required direct intervention, sometimes even the kind that would let the Espeon sit on someone to remind them of how comfy his ass was. And, very rarely, the job entailed holding a leash and hoping to the heavens above that the beast at the end of it didn’t tug too harshly. Of course, Harris refused to see it as such; having met Mina, he was reasonably certain she wouldn’t do something as stupid as take a Fire Stone unprompted… though not entirely sure, which left enough of a twinge of doubt that he occasionally found himself glancing sideways at the Growlithe whenever the two of them were in the same room together. How exactly Lee managed to avoid doing this was anyone’s guess; the Alakazam was surprisingly well-adjusted for someone who was consistently shown up in whatever he tried doing by someone who wasn’t even putting in any effort, with him being suspiciously fine with the notion of merely being second-best to Mina in just about anything and everything. When questioned, Lee would stare back at Harris quizzically, as if the notion that he should be envious was so absurd that he didn’t even process it properly; as the man put it, surpassing Mina was something even the gods failed to do, and as much as he was a fifteen-foot behemoth of a beef monster possessed of extraordinary psychic abilities, he was still a mortal. If the divine beings who watched over them failed to contain Mina, what hope did he have? Besides, the Growlithe herself was nothing if not the physical incarnation of friendless and altruism; more than once, Lee found himself struggling with some random domestic task, only to blink and find it complete, along with a note with Mina’s handwriting on it telling him “that one was on the house”. He’d grown accustomed to it, and as he told the Espeon, so too should they; much as Harris was vastly more powerful than their own progenitress, Mina was equally above them on the power ladder as well, so trying to compete would just end in misery. Plus, the Growlithe didn’t want to compete; she was there because she wanted to help people, not get involved in metaphorical pissing contests, so no, he wasn’t envious of her. If anything, Lee aspired to be like Mina, since heavens above knew that the amount of self-control the giantess had to have in order to avoid abusing their powers was far and away much higher than anything the Alakazam himself had. Hell, he was thinking that while Harris was getting busy wrapping their whole body around his cock, with the beefy giant having once more failed to say no when the demigod presented their ass and forced him to full mast; honestly, if that was what their life was going to be together… well, the Alakazam would’ve liked to finish that thought, but it would’ve been a damnable lie; he wouldn’t trade Harris for anything else in the world. Nevertheless, they did still have a job to do, and though it took a long while before a sufficiently dangerous rift opened that it justified calling the trio up, they’d eventually be summoned to handle one of the biggest tears ever recorded; fittingly, it had opened in one of the most nondescript places possible: a seemingly random house in the suburbs of the capital city under the Mewtwo’s coverage. There was absolutely nothing about it that would justify what happened to the interior; the poor owner just showed up one day after work, opened the front door, and suddenly found themselves staring at a colossal active volcano, far larger than anything on their world. They even tried closing and reopening the door on the off-chance that they had just imagined it, but it was no use; no matter how many times they slammed it shut and pulled it back, whenever they peeked inside all they saw was rock, brimstone, and copious amounts of magma. Given the presence of “active hostile entities”, as central command liked to call them, within the rift itself, preliminary scouting placed the danger level of the dimensional disturbance so high that they literally had no classification for it other than appendixing several plus signs to the highest one they did have. Just the kind of challenge for those three, really, and indeed a fine way of ascertaining whether or not they could properly work as a team, or if their ability to coordinate would die faster than any pair of pants Harris tried putting on. The Espeon made sure to teleport himself and Lee to the very front of the house, it being far too dangerous, even for him, to try and breach the rift directly by using his own psychic powers; naturally, Mina was already there, leaning against the house and somehow not crushing it underneath her immense heft. At no point did the Espeon or Alakazam wonder how the Growlithe was supposed to fit through the opening; Mina had a near-supernatural ability to just manage, almost like her whole body was as malleable as molten rubber. It didn’t matter if it was a regular, person-sized door or a literal keyhole, the Growlithe somehow always got inside wherever she wanted to be, which had been quite the surprise for the two lovers when they thought they were by their lonesome and were shocked to hear a horribly embarrassed gasp when Mina accidentally walked in on them doing unspeakable things to one another. As per usual, the Growlithe gave the two of them a nod before turning to face the door, and a blink later, she was gone; both Harris and Lee knew that, by the time they finished processing that fact, Mina was most likely already done with the assignment, but that didn’t stop them from heading in anyway. It was what they found on the other side that set off multiple alarm bells in their head, as both of them felt it the moment they closed the door behind them: a Fire Stone. It made sense, seeing as they were at the base of a colossally oversized volcano spewing enough lava to cover entire cities, but at no point did either of them stop to think of the odds; now that they had, it was too late, as Mina will had most likely either stumbled onto the evolution-inducing stone, or, more likely, deliberately sought it out herself. The two had a single moment to panic, where every stray thought that could go through their heads did so: the sizes Mina would reach, the power she would wield, how it would so thoroughly destabilize the pocket dimension they were in that it would most likely collapse, killing all of them instantly. They could see it now: the Growlithe’s face, appearing on the other side of the volcano’s rim as their body grew and grew and grew endlessly, radiant and resplendent, far too welcoming for its own good, while the two of them sat there powerless to even slow it down, let alone put a stop to it. But the moment was just that: a moment. As soon as it was over, who else would appear before them but Mina herself, just as big as she’d always been, sweating slightly thanks to the extra-strength workout she had just put herself through. “Yeah, sorry about that, had to rescue everyone who got stuck,” she stated matter-of-factly, swishing her tail to reveal dozens of people safely held within its soft floof, “could you believe there was a whole town of people here? Must’ve been taken from somewhere else when the rift opened, and why are you staring at me like that? Did I do something wrong? Oh heavens, did I forget someone oh gods above no I’ll go right back I’m so sorry listen I-” “No, no!” Harris cut through, interrupting the Growlithe’s incoming ramble before it had a chance to truly start, “It’s just…” The Espeon looked to the side, where Lee was doing much the same to him. Could it be that Mina truly didn’t know? She seemed confused enough by their reactions that it could be the case, but surely if the two of them felt the Fire Stone’s presence, then the one person who could most benefit from it would have as well. Yet, despite this, there was always the remote chance that it wasn’t the case, and that Harris, in attempting to explain himself, would only end up making things worse. But he had to say it; he’d started the sentence, and it wouldn’t feel right to leave it hanging after that. “Mina, there’s a uh… there’s a Fire St-” “Oh, that!” the Growlithe immediately interjected, “Yeah, I figured I shouldn’t touch it, no worries; had a bit of a chat with the big boys upstairs and they told me to hold off on taking one of those. I mean, I don’t want to either, too much of a hassle, you know? Wait, is that why you look so worried? Did you honestly think I was gonna take the Fire Stone and use it?” From the tone of her voice, Mina was mixing equal parts incredulity and glee, looking as if she was a single second away from breaking out into a fit of cackling. To her credit, she successfully held off on it, swallowing plenty of giggles before she carried on. “I keep telling you that you don’t need to worry about me, I’m not gonna go nuts. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go fix the rift so we can go back.” “Did you find out what’s causing it?” Lee mused, figuring he might as well pretend like he was still doing something. In response, Mina nodded, taking the time to sprint to the front door’s location in order to drop off all the people she rescued in between one breath and the next. “Yeah, it’s the lava,” the Growlithe replied after arriving back at where Lee hadn’t noticed she was even gone from, “it’s anomalous, and there’s a lot of it; I took a dunk in it just to see how far it went, and I think we might have a planetary core down there, it’s a big one.” “A… I’m sorry, what?” Harris interjected, unable to process what he’d just heard. “Yeah, there’s a whole planet’s core worth of magma down there, so I’m gonna go fix it,” Mina replied, apparently not realizing the absurdity of what she was saying, “you guys get outside, this will only take a minute. And with that, she was off. True to her word, the Growlithe didn’t wait before she dunked her head back into the lava pool down below, giving Harris and Lee a perfect view of what she intended to do to “fix” the rift: apparently gulp down the entirety of the anomalous magma. It was a ridiculous way to go about it, but no one was going to stop her, certainly not the two people entrusted to do so; they (correctly) deduced they were better off getting out of dodge as quickly as they could before the dimension collapsed as a result of its anchor point being swallowed like a cheap drink, just barely squeezing out the front door before they felt the first signs of the rift closing. And again, for a moment, they allowed themselves to panic, for surely Mina would never be able to survive something like that, even if she was the one to cause it; and a moment later, Mina was standing right next to them, the front door left open to reveal a perfectly ordinary house interior. The Growlithe, meanwhile, was anything but. It took a moment before it registered, but Harris and Lee did eventually come to process that their partner was actually bigger than they had been just a few seconds prior; much bigger, in fact, nearing fifty feet in height and with a pair of breasts big enough to cover almost everything down to her unusually-oversized paws, which had similarly bwoompfed out to a point where they could easily stamp down on either of the two males with a single toe. With a delighted look on her face, Mina wiped the last few droplets of magma from her lips, before giving her belly a couple of pats and letting out a long, extremely hot sigh. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a drink that large. That was fun! We should do that more often!” She once more turned to face Harris and Lee, momentarily surprising herself with the difference in perspective. Somehow, she didn’t seem to find this important enough to note, especially given her tone when she spoke again was nothing if not conversational. “Oh, sorry, guess I got carried away. You guys wanna go out for lunch to celebrate?

It used to be so much simpler when she was smaller that part of her came to believe that such a point in time had never existed to begin with, and it was just her brain trying to come up with some rational explanation for why everything around her wasn’t already built to specification. Then again, at the same time, if she had always been like that, then surely the world would be better equipped to deal with someone like her, rather than being both woefully undersized in general, and having most of the people who lived on it be, quite frankly, so tiny as to be utterly inconsequential… plus, she wouldn’t have stories told of her early years, now would she? Even her parents, monstrously huge as they were, paled in comparison to what their daughter had become; they occasionally regaled her with tales of how things were like before she was born, back when their bodies were revered as the uttermost symbol of perfection and their mere presence was enough to bring anyone to their feet. A genetic happenstance, really, and yet one that had left the both of them capable of crushing any and all opposition in a quite literal sense if they so desired… not that they would, obviously, but still, it was important to know one’s limits when one cleared past the hundred feet mark in height and had proportions so exaggerated that one’s throne had to be built outdoors in order to avoid having to transform a mountain into a palace. Back then, they were revered as gods-made-flesh, as avatars of some cosmic, divine will made manifest in the mortal realms, and for decades they ruled with benevolent generosity, bringing about peace and prosperity wherever their authority reached. Until, one day, they decided to have a child together, hoping both to secure their lineage and to take a new step in their relationship; they both felt it was important to expand their family and come to terms with the idea that, some day, they wouldn’t be there, and thus it was important to make sure that whoever succeeded them knew the importance of being a kind, just, benign ruler, and how utterly crucial it was not to abuse their powers for their own gain. Admittedly, no one could have ever predicted that things would get out of hand so quickly, but maybe the giantess’ parents should’ve assumed something was wrong when she was born and not three days later had already outgrown her immense crib, having reached her parent’s height before the first year was out; though things somewhat slowed down after that, they didn’t really stop, and by the time puberty came and made things speed up yet again, it was clear to anyone watching just who the real goddess was in the royal family. Not that the princess would ever go so far as to claim power for herself, heavens no, but it was impossible for anyone to genuinely make the claim that her parents were even remotely in control of the situation when they barely even reached up to their own daughter’s ankles after a while, and the size discrepancy only got worse as time went on; once she came of age, it was less a case of having to learn how to make the best out of her size and far more her having to deliberately avoid doing anything that might get in the way of… well, anything. Having a body so massive that the top of her head was noticeably colder than her paws down below, owing to being a few atmospheric layers above the latter, made it somewhat difficult to avoid doing some kind of damage while walking around, and this would hold true even if her proportions weren’t so massively out of whack compared to even her immense size. The princess’ parents were massive, sure, but at least their overall shape was still vaguely recognizable as being in line with what people expected from their species; in sharp contrast, their daughter had been blessed by seemingly every kind of size-related fairy godmother, because her physical frame was… something akin to fantastical in its scope, like it was part of the scenery rather than a living, breathing creature. Curiously, the princess herself liked to exploit this, mostly by staying as still as possible until her presence was burned into the eyes of all those who gazed upon her, then start moving in such a way as to make it difficult to guess whether or not it was happening, or the whole world was just having a collective hallucinatory episode. Then again, it was hard to blame the little ones for having such a reaction, seeing as the curves they were exposed to on a daily basis made it difficult to focus on such meaningless things as observable reality or their own needs; it wasn’t at all the princess’ fault, and she did try her best to get people back on track to the things that actually mattered, but when most people in the realm were capable of looking up and seeing an Arcanine so tall that they seemed to reach lower orbit, with a pair of hands and pawbs of such colossal size that their mere movement was enough to cause gale-force winds and small quakes, respectively, it was extremely difficult not to immediately have their minds subverted by the intense, irresistible need to worship. Her more sexual attributes didn’t help either, what with her breasts covering most of the front of her body all the way down to, and slightly below, her knees, protruding so much from either side of her that there was probably more backboob on display than torso… quite the feat, considering the raw muscle that she was also adorned by, enough that most of the times her head wasn’t even visible in between the pectorals and neckbulk surrounding it; all of it capped off by a rump that seemed to stand in complete contrast to the hyper-defined calves that felt like they could create supersonic shockwaves if they were just clenched, an ability that very few people knew the Arca-goddess did actually possess, and went to great lengths to avoid accidentally activating. She was a creature of extremes, on one hand being composed of fat, pudge and soft flesh bulging outwards in every direction, and on the other having her body be riddled with rippling muscle mass, glistening with endless pouring sweat and just waiting for an opportunity to bulk outwards even more at the slightest provocation; all that was really needed was for the princess to slightly tighten any part of her body, and it would immediately begin to multiply its muscle mass, for the sheer strain of having to keep all that bulk tight and taut was enough to give it a workout that could not, and never would be, compared to anything anyone else had ever achieved. She was at once power and peace, the ultimate symbol of both complete dominion over the physical realm, and yet ultimately a connection to the spiritual one, for no matter how big she got, no matter how hard she flexed her muscles to make them double, triple, quintuple in density, no matter how much milk her breasts produced, stored and then inevitably leaked onto the world, no matter what she did that inevitably created large landscaping projects entirely by accident, the princess Arcanine would never lift a single finger to harm a living soul, no matter how inconsequential or ignominious they might be. For her, there would be no “evil” in her world, for even the most wretched could be redeemed, and brought back into the light of her presence and the warmth of her embrace, if only they would be willing to make amends for whatever they did; and in return, she would continue to provide the endless bounty that spewed forth from both her lifegiving teats, mannah in the form of milk, running down her front and creating two immense rivers wherever it landed, nutritious to the point where a single drop was enough to keep whoever drank it fully fed for an entire day. Granted, the same could probably be said for the copious amounts of femcum that occasionally erupted from between her legs when the pleasure became too high for even her to withstand, but seeing as the Arca-Goddess didn’t intend to flood the entire planet in a several-miles-deep ocean of her own juices, she made sure to aim her climax away from the world she was on and into deep space, where at least the copious amounts of fluid wouldn’t hurt anyone. And this… this was her normal. Sometimes her parents would tell her of the times from before, but to the princess, these hardly mattered; right now, in the present, she was so massive that the entire capital could fit snugly on top of her bosom, and with a substantial amount of the planet’s crust underneath it to make sure the foundations could be laid properly: a large half-sphere of dirt, stone and bedrock upon which lay enough buildings to house most of the realm, all lavishly carved, all ridiculously oversized, for mere proximity to the giantess was enough to trigger growth in even the smallest of her future subjects. Even her parents weren’t immune to the “improving” aura, though they’d learned a long time prior that, no matter how much their own daughter made them grow infinitely larger, they would never even reach a fraction of her true power… and therein lied the one issue with her: the growth itself. The Arca-goddess was big, sure, and she had been for all of her life, but even though the rate of growth itself had always been absolutely absurd, it used to be that it could be understood, measured, and above all, predicted; it became a science in and of itself, being able to tell when the next growth spurt would take place so that everyone in the way could evacuate to safety, with entire institutes being constructed from the ground up purely for the sake of calculating when the next big jump in size would take place and, most importantly, how big it would be. And while the accuracy of these predictions was reasonably high for long enough to convince everyone that it would remain that way, in the previous couple of years it had begun to… falter. Sometimes the growth spurts would take place earlier than predicted (never later) or would leave the giantess much larger than initially calculated (never smaller), with the discrepancies only getting increasingly severe with time; eventually, and after much pressure from both the Crown itself and the myriad of investors who justifiably saw the constant and unpredictable spurts in size as a danger to the planet itself, the leading scholars were forced to admit that the princess’ growth had superseded even their wildest expectations, and was not only much more active than it should be, but was also accelerating towards ever-higher rates. What this meant in practice was quite simple: this giantess that they were all living on or directly under, the royal daughter, the princess who would one day rule the world… was outgrowing the very world she was to govern, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop that. At the rate things were going, the closest approximation that anyone could calculate placed the next “big one” in between three months to a year into the future, to say nothing of all the smaller spurts that would inevitably start shifting the center of gravity away from the planet itself and towards the Arcanine titaness striding along its surface; and that was assuming the predictions on the prediction itself were correct, and the princess’ body didn’t pull a fast one by suddenly and inexplicably growing tenfold in size overnight… which, to be fair to her, it just might, and no one would be the wiser. Thus, a plan was hatched, if it could even be called as such. Everyone knew that the princess would eventually outgrow her own world, with the only variable being when that took place, and even before the realization that it was coming sooner rather than later dropped, there had already been multiple plans drawn up in order to help deal with such a situation. Dozens upon dozens of contingencies ranging from the utterly ludicrous to the downright fantastical, occasionally glancing by the feasible or realistic, all designed with one thing in common: the Arca-goddess herself. It’d be impossible for planetary scale evacuation plans to be drawn up in any way that didn’t involve her to some degree, especially given how the growth wouldn’t just stop the moment the giantess became larger than her homeworld, so it was either abandon her completely or make good use of an infinitely-expanding body… and letting go of someone as divine and perfect as the princess just wasn’t an option anyone was even remotely ready to even consider, let alone take seriously. Luckily, the alternatives at least had some grounding in reality, in that there was plenty of room on the titaness for the planetary population to live on; if not for the ample curves she had on display, then the literal miles upon miles of thick locks sprawled behind her thanks to her hyperactive mane. Honestly, it was nothing short of miraculous that the locks of hair she carried behind her didn’t get tangled in something, considering that the few guilds who had dedicated themselves to cutting them had long-since given up trying to keep that ocean of hair under control and let it overrun what, at that point, felt like several countries’ worth of space all tightly compressed in a forest so dense that it might as well be a solid block the size of their kingdom and beyond. Ultimately though, it all ended up in the same conclusion: the Arca-goddess was the perfect vessel for the future of her subjects, and quite literally at that, as all that was needed was to transfer everyone alive onto her body somehow, and then the rest would just… sort itself out. Her milk would provide nourishment, her breath would keep the weather stabilized (given her body would eventually grow dense enough to keep an atmosphere around itself), and her form would serve as housing for whatever billions of sentient souls wanted to hop aboard. Really, the only differences in the plans were whether or not her subjects should invest in bringing along trees and livestock in order to have a backup plan in case something went wrong, but as time went on and the transformative effects of just being near the giantess became even more powerful, as the world itself started to quake with each breath she took, such speech became tantamount to heresy; how dare anyone suggest that the goddess wouldn’t be able to take care of them to the end of time? She was their paradise, their heaven, and it was their job to accept and plan around that fact! Granted, this was easier said than done, considering moving several billion souls from across the planet onto a single biological platform was slightly harder than what everyone initially thought… though not necessarily for the reasons one might expect. Convincing people to leave their ancestral homes to migrate towards the princess was, unsurprisingly, the easiest part; after all, who didn’t relish the opportunity to live quite literally on the Arca-goddess when given the slightest opening to do so? Entire countries were emptied as laborers left their tools where they stood, bureaucrats abandoned their endless countless counting and rulers forsook their thrones, all of them joining into one massive, planetary-scale pilgrimage that left nothing but emptiness behind it: trees were cut down to provide for building materials and saplings, whole herds were brought along to relocate as much of the world’s biology as possible, not because it was necessary, but because everything, from the lowliest plant to the greatest of monarchs, deserved to exist in a state of utmost perfection on their newest home. Continents were left depopulated and in the dark, with the number of people congregating around the Arcanine reaching such a critical mass that the real problem reared its ugly head: no one could actually climb onto the princess, for doing so made them lose their minds. It was easy for those who lived on the capital city to ignore this fact, being that they existed within the divine glow of the princess’ being at every single moment of their day, but did so safely within the confines of their architectural constructs, not on the giantess’ body; in fact, touching her was seen as something that no one had yet earned the right to do, which brought about a myriad of difficult questions regarding the evacuation that no one had really thought to answer. It was only after they tried to climb aboard their newest ship that the issue was really made clear, and at a point where the entire world’s population couldn’t really afford to have any unscheduled delays; the princess’ body was still growing, and at an increasingly faster rate with each passing day, to the point where even the most pessimistic projections had to be constantly redrawn in order to take this into account. Months turned into month, singular, then three weeks or less, and before long everyone was just expecting her to go completely wild at any given moment; her disposition also helped to stoke the fears, as rather than the regal and yet gentle giantess that she usually presented herself as, it was clear to all that the Arca-goddess was experiencing extreme amounts of pleasure that she couldn’t even begin to process properly, leaving her in a state of near-perpetual edging that threatened to flood the entire world if literally anything happened to tip the balance. Temperatures across the globe began to climb as her hyperventilation ensured her hot breath consumed all wind currents, lands were flooded when the milk production within her breasts skyrocketed, and even her femcum began to create issues as the goddess forgot to aim herself away from the planet she was supposed to be saving; all of this combined to leave all those present in a state of constant worry, as despite their best efforts… they still couldn’t climb on her. Proximity to the giantess alone was enough to cause growth spurts in whoever dared to get the closest, with the occasional air-rending moan reverberating throughout the very fabric of reality and leaving everyone who heard it several times bigger and moaning themselves; it was as if existence itself was buckling underneath the weight of maintaining something like the princess, whose being was so out of tune with the rest of reality that everything else was forced to adapt in order to deal with it. It was hard to say if this was something new, or if the Arca-goddess had always possessed these abilities and simply chose not to reveal them for fear of what it might do to the world around her… and given the sort of destruction wrought each time she even dared to move a single inch, be it in earth-shattering quakes, deific-sized floods or waves of growth in all those that heard her, this was probably a good choice on her end, at least until she lost control entirely. Now that she had though… what would happen next? A few brave individuals tried to test the hypothesis that all they had to do was grow big enough by second-hand exposure in order to beat the interminable amounts of crippling carnal bliss that left them unable to even think the moment they got anywhere physically close to the Arcanine giantess, but after a few reached and surpassed the mile mark and were still unable to do anything other than writhe around with their hands between their legs the moment they thought about reaching out to touch the princess, it was obvious that any solution that could exist would have to come from the titaness herself. But with her being stuck in a rut, and almost literally so, the odds of the princess awakening from her lust-induced stupor for long enough to notice that something was dreadfully wrong about the evacuation procedure was… low. So low, in fact, that failure became a distinct option, and a much more likely one with every hour that passed and the billions of souls that waited to get on her body remained firmly on solid ground, away from their promised paradise. It was a testament to the goddess’ influence that even this wasn’t enough to cause strife; one might find it likely that being stuck in such a situation would lead to tempers running high, to outright conflict and violence as those who waited for the chance to escape their doomed homeworld fought with one another over the privilege of who got to reach their personal heaven. But instead, the opposite was true: where there would normally be anger and hostility, there reigned calm and peace; where fists would regularly fly, there was only silent prayer and adoration, as countless lives knelt in unison in one final, last-ditch attempt at getting their goddess to listen to their plight, to understand how important it was to come back to reality and lead the way forward. After all, if not her, then who would do it? Even her parents had fallen prey to the same transformative growth bursts that were triggered whenever they tried to make physical contact with the Arcanine giantess’ body, and if her own flesh and blood were unable to do it, then what hope did anyone else have? The only solution was to somehow get the titaness to wake up, to realize what was happening to her and put everything back on track, just the way it used to be, and the only way to do that was to remind her of her own divinity in the singular way that anyone knew how: by praying to her. It was such a simple solution, and one that carried with it a significant chance of failure; with the Arca-goddess in the state that she was in, could anyone really ensure that their little, inconsequential voices would be heard above the cacophony of pleasure that was sure to be roiling inside of the giantess’ head at that point? Could they really be sure that, even if they got billions of souls to burn brightly in unison, they would be seen through the princess’ glazed-over, half-lidded eyes? The simple truth was that they couldn’t, but they had to try anyway, for the only other alternative was to lay down their arms at their sides and embrace oblivion, an idea that no one wanted to even consider; it was too much for them to think about, that everything that took place up until then had only set up their ultimate destruction. It would be too much of a horrible joke on the cosmos’ part, to gift them with such a perfect giantess to guide their way forward, then forbid them from experiencing her ascension, keep them from living through the rest of eternity while in full communion with their goddess. It was unthinkable, in a way, because, put simply, it challenged too much of the established dogma to ever be true, lest their entire existence turn out to be a lie… and the Arca-goddess was there, so clearly she would never be so cruel as to have led them on for so long. Unfortunately for everyone involved, though they had the princess’ motivations down pat, there wasn’t a lot that anyone could really do for her, considering that the state she was in was already the most she could contain herself. Oh, if only the little ones truly understood what it was like to live in her body, to know that the big growth spurt to end all growth spurts was not only coming, but had already arrived, and the only reason why the planet was still there was because the Arca-goddess herself was working to keep it from breaking out into reality, believing that the little ones down below would come up with some solution to get onto her before it was too late. How desperate she was, when seeing the little progress being made, when confirming that, despite her best intentions, her presence alone was enough to keep anyone from truly climbing onto her, even if it meant their salvation; how horrifying it was that she could hear all their voices as clearly as if they were speaking directly into her ear, and yet could do nothing about it… nothing but wiggle her toes, at least. That was about the only part of her body that she could still control in any sense, sprawled out across the planet and flat on her back as she was, the one remaining section of her muscles that the titaness still retained direct authority over… and all she could do was wiggle them. That was it, that was her entire repertoire of tricks, right there in that simple gesture: moving her enormous pawb tips in a way that kept her sharp claws from damaging the ground too much. She wasn’t even doing it for any reason as much as just for its own sake; it was the last bastion, the final holdout and line of defense before her entire body was consumed by the growth spurt she was barely holding back, and as soon as she ceased being able to control them, the moment that they went still, it would be all over. Unbeknownst to her, this grand gesture of defiance, so ultimately meaningless to her, would end up being the very salvation that both she and everyone else had been holding out for, even if no one present could’ve imagined why. It started off innocently enough, or at least as innocently as anything could happen on that lust-consumed planet, when one of the giants closest to those sky-blotting paws decided that if they couldn’t touch the goddess themselves, then the goddess would just have to do the work for them. Thus, rather than deliberately attempting to climb onto her body and have to face both the mental blockage and the inevitable growth spurt that came with it, they instead stood in front of her toes, carefully maneuvering themselves between the claws protruding from them… and let themselves fall forward. What happened next was hard to parse, but one thing was for certain: when this giant opened their eyes again, they were inexplicably far bigger than anyone else bar the Arca-goddess herself, and were firmly on her body and away from the both the ground and the paws that they had just been on moments prior… if they had been moments. The constant wriggling of the titaness’ toes had somehow managed to project them upwards into safety, something that did not go unnoticed by those closest to them, who, once they fought past their own embarrassment, decided to keep the cycle going and repeat what the first climber had achieved. It felt somewhat wrong to let the goddess do the job for them, but ultimately, would that not be the greatest display of adoration? To deliver their literal lives unto her, that she might bless them one final time before their ascension into glorified forms? Everyone seemed to think so, given the enthusiasm they put into flooding the area around the goddess’ country-sized pawbs, hoping to get there quickly enough; from the way that the very air around them was vibrating, it was self-evident that the final burst of size was well underway, and the clock hadn’t so much run down as it had shattered completely. The Arcanine titaness herself could only sigh in relief as she felt the first few thousand giants begin to climb onto her form, knowing that, somehow, her own prayers had been answered and everyone could be safe; it had become a question of endurance, a matter of when and not just if, giving the giantess a goal to work for. If beforehand she’d been desperately clinging onto the last shreds of her sanity for the sake of a plan that she wasn’t even aware if it existed or not, as soon as her toes became the vector through which ascension was reached, it felt as if every living soul that threw themselves in between them gave her even more strength to endure; every hand that grabbed onto a tuft of fur was a signal, a shining beacon letting her know that “We are here!”, that her subjects were safe and sound atop her form. Suddenly, holding back the growth spurt grew easier and easier still… though not to the point of keeping it from happening altogether; the goddess knew that, even if she were to contain herself long past the point where everyone climbed onto her, she’d still explode outwards eventually, for it too was a simple matter of “when”. It just so happened that, with final confirmation that there was an evacuation plan, suddenly things didn’t seem so desperate, and the amount of relaxation that gave her even allowed for a certain degree of control over more of her extremities, until her fingers too began wriggle, inviting those who were around them to climb aboard as well! It took… time. Hours? Days? Weeks, perhaps? None of it seemed to make sense, as the sensations coursing through everyone had left them unable to parse through the usual stimuli that would let them know how much time had passed in between anything at all. There would be no thirst when living on the Arcanine titaness, no hunger, no tiredness, nothing but an endless, blissful existence where none would want for anything… and with that, came a certain sense of timelessness, where a single moment could stretch out forever, and an eternity passed by in a single moment. But as more people climbed, as the world’s population made its way upwards and onto their goddess, their living worldship, there was one certainty: they were safe. They were secure. And she could finally let go.

Devil's Debauchery Gwendolyn drew in a deep breath, slowly drawing herself up from sleep. She wondered, briefly, if the strange things she remembered had all been a dream, or perhaps some strangely erotic nightmare. She found a small smile appearing on her face as she felt the hard, stiff ache between her legs that told her the events she recalled were not merely fantasy, but in fact the strangeness of an odd reality. The new growth between her legs was not the only thing that was stiff; Gwen tried to move her fingers and toes only to find that as she remembered her hands and feet lacked both of them. Instead of the familiar digits, each limb instead ended in a large, heavy, cloven hoof. Gwen found herself blushing; oddly she didn't mind the loss of her hands and feet. It felt... fun, for some reason. The thought of being bestial really turned her on. She let out a soft cry as her member erupted with a thick gout of precum, drawing a muffled sound of protest from the sleeping figure next to her. She'd gone to bed snuggled up to Christine, but it seemed that sometime during the night Casey had wedged herself in between the two larger girls. Gwen gasped at the sight of her friend, the familiar tanned skin gone porcelain pale, transformed into a snow white adorned with radiant blue markings, makings that matched her lips and hair. Casey felt wonderfully soft and smooth as she pressed back instinctively against Gwen, slowly coming awake herself. The part-equine licked her lips, admiring her friend's altered body; where she had been boyish and lithe before, somehow her figure had transformed into a build that seemed to combine most of her original features with the hourglass figure that Christine had sported. It looked almost silly on the five and a half foot tall Casey, with a girth of bust and rump meant for someone with an additional six inches on her. But despite being a bit silly, it was... incredibly arousing. Gwen found herself wanting to stroke and caress her friend's body, but all she managed were some clumsy fumblings with her hooves that made the girl giggle. "No, just leave that to me," she murmured, reaching behind her to find Gwen's aching cock, stroking it. Casey gasped and rolled over, looking down at her friend's phallus. "Oh wow, Gwen, you're um... just about literally hung like a horse," she said softly, awed as she took the length in both hands. "Wh-what?!" she stammered, looking down at her hard on. It didn't seem any bigger than it had the previous day, but for some reason Casey seemed... smaller. Gwen had grown overnight, a good six or so inches at least, and her manhood had increased in scale. She hadn't remembered that her shaft had altered, the flesh turning dark, the head flattening out, and a ring appearing around the middle. She got a flash of pleasured memory, an image of a thick, black cock shaped much like her own, but bigger, and decidedly not belonging to her. Yeania's, her mistress. The thought made Gwen blush even more. Why was she thinking of the strange elven woman as her mistress, and why had she obeyed everything she had said? The horse-girl had masturbated to the point of exhaustion for her mistress the previous evening, and barely remembered any of it aside from a memory of delicious, wonderful pleasure. The memory made her gush again, splattering her thick pre on Casey's midsection. "Oh shit, I'm sorry!" she said softly, mortified. Casey chuckled and took one of Gwen's hooves in hand, rubbing her own erection against it. "Don't be, I feel the exact same way, except it's not my cock that's aching and dripping wet. This is a very strange thing that's happening to us, and while I think that being stuck with a cock is a bit much to pay for an ass and rack like I've always wanted, I'm not going to complain about how good it feels. Though the rest of it... I'm not sure what to think about it. But I..." she licked her azure lips with an equally azure tongue, "I don't want to think right now. I just... I just want to fuck, okay?" Gwen looked down at her equine erection, "I... I don't think it'll fit." Her length measured at least a good two feet. Casey just laughed and shifted her body, scooting down on Gwen's cock inch by inch. The pale girl moaned, her breaths coming faster and faster the more she took into her, but somehow she managed to get every last inch inside of her. She hugged Gwen tightly and let out a contented sigh, "Oh... that's perfect... mmm..." The horse-girl found herself unable to hold back a moan, the little Asian felt so good inside, though a bit strange. Casey felt oddly cool to the touch, rather than warm, almost like she was about the same temperature as the room around her. "Oooh, you're so warm, Gwen," she murmured, pressing up against her as tightly as she could. "I feel so chilly." Gwen wondered briefly if her friend was becoming a vampire, but then she looked down and saw something strange on Casey's neck. Where those... gills? While Gwen seemed to be heading to horsedom, and Christine to cowhood, Casey appeared to be becoming something scaled and aquatic. Almost if she'd heard her name being mentioned, Chrissie let out an annoyed groan, pulling the covers tighter around herself. Somehow she'd managed to end up with all of them during the night. Not surprising, after all the bed had been meant for one, maybe two people, but now it had all three altered girls snuggled together in it; though Chrissie seemed to be as far away from the other two as she could get and still be comfortably in the bed. Gwen tried her best to be quiet, but Casey didn't seem to notice. She let out a lusty moan and threw her head back, her climax merely spurring her on. This drew another sound of annoyance from Chrissie, who rolled over to glare at her friends. "Dammit you two, could you please be...." her eyes widened at the sight of Gwen and Casey in the midst of making love. "That's disgusting!" she said with a snort, "I thought you two would have more self control than this! Geez, less then twenty-four hours with drooling, aching, throbbing..." she licked her lips, "dicks and here you are p-practically throwing yourselves on one another." Casey turned her head and grinned, delighting in making Christine uncomfortable, "I bet you're just jealous, cause Gwen woke up with her cock hard, huge, and drooling and she put it to good use instead of giving herself blue balls. C'mon, there's plenty of room, don't you just want to shove that hot, hard shaft of yours into my pussy? Hmm?" She was quite enjoying herself, being able to shame and taunt the self-appointed 'leader' of the group. Casey found herself thinking that the changes to her body were completely tolerable if it meant being able to knock Christine off her high horse once in awhile. Chrissie let out a soft whimper, keeping the blankets wrapped tightly around her. "No, I'm not hard at all! Not in the slightest! What's happening to us is sickening and gross, you shouldn't be indulging your deformities like that." Chrissie shuddered as she looked over the pair. "You've even changed overnight! Gwen has a deeper tan for some reason, and you've shrunk, Casey!" "N-no, she hasn't gotten smaller, Chris, you've gotten b-bigger," Gwen managed between pleasured moans. The blonde shook her head rapidly from side to side, "No I haven't! I haven't changed at all!" she protested, as if denying the possibility would make it true. "You've definitely changed a bit, Chrissie, you've got horns!" Casey pointed out with a grin. Chrissie pulled her hands out from beneath the blanket, feeling the small nubs of her horns with her altered hands, each sporting only three digits instead of the usual five, all three thicker than usual. Casey giggled and tugged the covers away from Chrissie, revealing her bovine body for all to see. Gwen and Casey both gasped at the sight, as she had been transformed more than either of them. Her tits were huge, bigger than her head, damned near the size of beachballs, each one sporting three large, long, dark colored teats. Her own cock was almost a mirror of Gwendolyn's, several feet in length, thick, with a ring around the middle and a fat, broad, flat head. Her tanned skin was marred with darker blotches, including a large one on her midsection that features two pairs of half-dollar sized bumps in the middle of it. Chrissie looked absolutely mortified at her friends' gawking. She turned beet red, especially as her long teats began to drip. Her breasts had gotten even bigger overnight as they filled with milk. "D-don't look at me!" she scolded, shuddering, trying to cover herself back up. "It's n-not bad, Chrissie, just weird. At least you've still got hands. Just imagine if you had to milk yourself with just hooves," Gwen offered. Chrissie let out a soft moan, her breasts continuing to leak, and her cock oozing precum at the thought of milking herself. "Th-that's not helping!" she growled. "I... I need to get this to stop. To make it go away! I want this stupid thing gone!" she looked as if she were about to smack her cock for a second, and then thought better of it. "I bet it's not going to go down unless you do something about it," Casey said with a snort, turning back to Gwen, focusing on their lovemaking once again. "Either stick your dick my cunt and stop whining about it, or go fucking sulk somewhere else where you're not going to kill the moods of people who are making the most of their weird, freakish animal bodies. At least you're still a mammal! I think I'm cold blooded! And I've got GILLS for fuck's sake. GILLS!" Chrissie lowered her head and looked to the door, than back to her friends, "You've already got Gwen's horse cock in your pussy. I'll break you in half!" Casey snorted, "Why are you two so concerned about hurting me? For heaven's shake just shut up, do what I tell you, and cram that huge donkey-dick of yours inside me!" "I... I'm not a donkey!" Chrissie stammered, a bit taken aback at Casey's sudden shift in personality. "No, you're a bloody huge chocolate milk moo cow! Choose now, fun with Dick in Casey, or go and chew your cud!" Chrissie bit her bottom lip and thought for a few moments before reluctantly slipping back into the bed, coaxing her shaft into the pale girl's sex, where it met with Gwen's own. "Fuck yes!" Casey just about snarled, "Finally I'm getting a proper fucking!" Chrissie found herself pressing up tight against Casey, whose head disappeared between her heavy milk-bags. Mmm... it felt so good to be so close with her friends. Casey's motions made her breasts wiggle, which felt good, and she kept pressing back against Chrissie's midsection, which oddly felt even better. "Good good, now moo-moo, put those big clumsy mitts of yours on my tits, and horse-face here, you see what flavor of milk we're going to have on our cereal today..." Casey ordered. Chrissie let out a soft pleasured moo as Gwen began to drink from her. Just as her coloration hinted, the flavor of the day appeared to be chocolate... -o- Gwen sighed, looking down at her bowl of milk-less cereal. The other two had decided to take their breakfast outside, and then do a little exploring on the island. Chrissie had managed to cram herself into a t-shirt and skirt, while Casey seemed to be going around in the nude. Neither of them had realized that things would be awkward for Gwen. She'd changed the least, the only alterations being to her hands, feet, and complexion, but those changes had made her far more bestial; the clumsy hooves where her hands used to be made dressing herself, or eating with utensils impossible. Gwen couldn't even hold the bowl still to eat out of. She looked over the mess she'd made on the table and sighed again. Maybe she could go out and find some sort of tasty plant to graze on. That's what horses did, after all. She blushed at the thought of it, her on all fours, like a beast. The thought turned her on for some reason. Even though Gwen and her two friends had spent the morning fucking each other senseless, she was still getting hard at a moment's notice. Gwen bent down to try and get one more mouthful of real human food, only to find the bowl moving away from her as her face came within inches. She stared at it for a moment, only to find a sudden push at her midsection, the edge of the table butting against her belly. That was odd, as she'd been bent over the table, rather than sitting down up close to it. Gwen stood and found that the table had gotten bigger. She began to hear pops and creaks for all around her, the boat around her seeming to bend and stretch. The floor suddenly shifted underneath her, and only her large, broad hooves prevented her from sprawling to the floor. The boat seemed to be changing, the furnishings altering around Gwen. She darted from the cabin, reaching the deck, which began to heave under her. Gwen leapt to the sandy shore below, the sounds intensifying behind her. Their boat seemed to be shifting and altering, much as their own bodies had. The shape was quite familiar, it seemed to be transforming from a boat into a house. Gwen watched for a few moments before she had to turn away. All the odd twisting and flowing of solid material like it was liquid made her dizzy, and filled her empty tummy with nausea. The equine herm sighed, looking down over her tanned, naked, be-hooved body and picked a random direction, heading out into the forest as her belly rumbled. Something seemed to be drawing her to a specific place, and she found herself moving faster and faster. Gwen found herself grinning from ear to ear, delighting in the unusually fast pace she was making. It seemed that she could run much faster upon her hooves than she had with her feet. It was thrilling, feeling the wind in her hair and her tail. Wait... her tail? The redhead stopped in her tracks, spinning around to gawk at the sleek, shining red-orange hair that hung from a place just above her rump. Somewhere along the line she'd grown a full-on horse's tail and not noticed. Her legs were different too; her knees bent the wrong way, they were shaped differently too! Heavy muscles at her hips, meant for powerful running. Though surprised by her alterations, Gwen didn't mourn the loss of her humanity. She loved being like this, even though it was strange and at times inconvenient. Like having her huge horsecock full erect as she ran, her movements making it smack against her belly and breasts. As she started to run again, Gwen realized that she was essentially masturbating. Trying out the alterations to her body, her motions pleasuring her massive manhood in an odd way. She moaned as she ran, faster and faster, her pleasure surging higher and higher the more speed she gained and the closer she came to her destination. Fire burned within her flesh and bone, altering her even as she moved, but not once did it interfere with her stride. Somewhere along the line she'd dropped to all fours without noticing, her pace increasing once more. She let out a wild whinny as she burst into a clearing, her pleasure reaching its peak. Gwen stood upon all fours, her body grown larger, its shape changed. No more would she walk upright like a human, but upon all fours like a beast. But it didn't matter to her in the slightest, she loved it, adored it, and even if she hadn't, she'd have put up with it for the wonderful feelings that flowed through her as her cock emptied itself into making a thick, white puddle upon the smoothened stone. Gwen panted, her head lowered upon an elongated neck. She heard a sudden noise, rather like a cry of surprise, and then some odd sounds that reminded her of those that her own body made during transformation. She looked up to see Yeania standing in front of a crude slab of rock, almost like a bench that appeared to have been heaved up. It seemed as if the grey-skinned elven woman had been crying. She stared at Gwen with wide eyes, as if not expecting her to be there. Her gaze traced over the redhead's quadrupedal body, and she gasped softly. The equine could see the elf's red skirt beginning to rise in the front. "Y-you shouldn't be here," Yeania stammered. "I... I felt like I was supposed to be here," came Gwen's reply, her hooves clopping on the stone as she approached, "so I came." The elf snuffled and then let out a small laugh, motioning at the large puddle, "Well, it seems that you did, and did so quite spectacularly." She sighed and sat down upon the crude bench, muttering to herself. "Y-you were doing magic here..." Gwen said, it wasn't a question. She could feel an odd, electric sensation upon the air, and knew that it had come from her mis... from Yeania. The elf nodded, "I was trying to make myself a home," she said simply, "Demonic magic isn't all that good for creating things. I couldn't even make a comfortable place to sit." Yeania's eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Gwen lowered herself down near the bench, placing her head in Yeania's lap. "You're a demon, I know. I figured that out. You don't match your shadow, my mistress." Both of them shivered a little when Gwen gave voice to the word 'mistress.' "There's something wrong with me. My magic doesn't work like I remember it; I can do some things, but not others. My body isn't supposed to be like this, it's supposed to be bigger, sinister, predatory, far more intimidating. I have no idea what's happened, or what to do. I've been asleep for a long time, and I just... I just woke up here." She began to stroke Gwen's hair absently. "You didn't bring us here?" Gwen asked softly. Yeania shook her head, "No, I didn't. I found you and... well... I couldn't help it. I just did what I've always done. Punish people for their misdeeds; attempt to corrupt them by fulfilling dark desires. Like you and yours. It's just so... tempting. It was something familiar I could do in a smaller, weaker existence stranded in a place I am not familiar with, located in a cosmos that is far, far vaster than anything I could ever have imagined..." The demoness found herself almost hugging Gwen, even though she'd never done that before. "And I'm having strange feelings, emotions that are utterly foreign to me, like... like..." Gwen smiled, raising her head to kiss the demoness upon the cheek. "Like love, maybe?" "M-maybe," stammered the demoness. "H-here, I'll change you back. You don't need to be put though all of this. Only the bitchy blonde deserves punishment. You and the smaller girl, you don't deserve this." Gwen shook her head, "Don't you dare! I... I love being like this! I love my cock, my hooves, going around on all fours. It... it turns me on like I couldn't believe. And Casey? Casey's been... confidant. She's been in control. She's not letting Christine boss her around anymore. She browbeat her into having a three-way with her and I even! And it felt... it felt great!" The equine hugged Yeania as best she could, "No, no. Don't take all of this away. Just go through with it, change me all the way into whatever you want me to be. I know I'll love it, just as much as I love you." "A-and why do you love me?" Yeania asked softly, startled, seeming almost afraid. "I... I don't know. I just do! It just feels right, feels good... makes me feel good to be with you. Is it like that with you?" The demoness smiled and nodded her head. "Y-yeah, it feels a bit like that," she said as she stood. She spoke strange words, making a few gestures with her hands, placing them upon Gwen's shoulders. Yeania leaned down, her lips meeting with Gwendolyn's own, and the equine felt a surge of energy rocket through her. She felt herself growing, muscle and bone expanding at an incredible rate. She found her human figure vanishing rapidly as her lanky, tanned body gave way to light, full furred horseflesh. Her breasts vanished, her chest expanded, her limbs growing longer and thinner to better suit a true quadrupedal gait. But rather than feeling her face push forward into an equine muzzle, she found her neck growing rather oddly. The shape seemed weird, yet at the same time familiar. Soon Yeania was standing on the tips of her toes to maintain the kiss, and Gwen found herself embracing her mistress with a new pair of limbs. Soon even tiptoes was not even enough for the two to maintain their embrace, and Gwen opened her eyes, looking down upon the demoness from still human eyes peering out from a still human face. Her head atop perfectly human shoulders above large, decidedly human breasts. Her humanity had been restored, to a point. Looking down past her restored arms and hands, Gwen could see the equine body that had so aroused her, could feel it as a part of herself, could feel her obscenely massive cock hanging down between her legs. "I'm a centaur!" she said gleefully. "The very best that human and horse have to offer, I think," the demoness said with a grin. "It's perfect! I love it, mistress!" Gwen said, her horse's body moving to lie down as if she'd been doing so for ages, putting herself back on a level where she could kiss her mistress. "I should properly thank my mistress," Gwen murmured, her hand reaching down to caress the large tent in the demoness' skirt. "You said that this would come in time, Yeania. Do you think perhaps that now is that time?" The demoness nodded, sitting back on the bench, allowing Gwen to bend her human half down. The centaur's tongue traced over her lips at the anticipation of pleasuring her mistress. "Oh yes, my pet, I think that now is that time..." The centaur opened her mouth wide to take in Yeania's manhood. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in her motions as inch after inch of the thick, black equine shaft disappeared between her lips. She'd performed the act a few times, but she wasn't a pro at it like Christine was. But it seemed that the demoness' alterations to her had included a reduced gag reflex, at least so far as her own member was concerned. Gwen felt a strange sense of satisfaction rising within her; it felt good to please the demon, it was right to please the demon, and as she began to put her tongue to work, she quickly found that pleasing her mistress also filled her with a seemingly equal pleasure. Despite her own lusts, manhood and womanhood alike both throbbing and aching with desire, her attention was focused entirely upon her lover rather than herself. Though that didn't mean she couldn't have a bit of fun. Yeania's alterations of her seemed to have further enlargened Gwen's bust, and she figured that it would be fun to put it to use. The demoness' shaft was already well-slickened by the centaur's saliva, and it slide easily between the twin orbs as she sandwiched it between them. A soft sigh from her mistress sent a shiver of pleasure through Gwen's body, her mistress' clawed hands gripping her red tresses as she took control of the pace. The centaur relinquished it easily, feeling more comfortable with Yeania taking control. The demon's thrusts were faster than her own motions would have allowed, and they were also a bit harder, rougher. But that only served to excite Gwen further. The centaur couldn't help but let out a groan as her cock stirred. Her position was rather uncomfortable, as she was essentially lying on her cock. It felt huge, though she had no idea how big it had become, as the bulk of her equine lower body was in the way. She almost whimpered as Yeania drew her cock fully from Gwen's mouth, "Mmm... that's enough foreplay, my dear. I have to admit that I chose this shape for you because it matched my own preferences for lovers. When you're hung like a horse, well, on occasion you get the urge to slip it into something that was perfectly made for compatibility. Stand up." The centauress did so in an instant, almost bowling her mistress over in the process. But Yeania merely chuckled, walking slowly around her pet, admiring her handywork. Gwen found herself leaning into the demon's hand as she ran it over her flank. "Hells, you're huge, honey," Yeania said, sneaking a peak down below. The demoness' reptilian tail ran over the underside of Gwen's huge horsecock, drawing a delighted cry from the centauress. "I'm going to have to try that out sometime." Gwen was so big that Yeania found herself stepping up onto the bench she'd manage to form out of the rock in order to position herself properly, but it was not a bother. She chuckled, placing her hands upon Gwen's rump, "Are you ready my pet?" she asked. Her pet nodded rapidly, a blush spreading over her face as she did so. Centaur and demoness alike gasped as Yeania's length slowly entered Gwen's depths, "I had nearly forgotten what pleasures of the flesh had felt like..." she murmured as she hilted herself in her pet. Gwen could barely comprehend the words her mistress had spoken. Yeania had indeed made her a perfect fit, and the shemale demon's cock pressed up against all the right places within her. The centaur's four legs wobbled a bit as her mistress began to thrust, slowly, gently at first. Yeania hadn't been exaggerating; she'd spent untold years trapped within her prison, having no true body to speak of. She almost felt like a virgin. Almost. It had been so long since her last proper encounter, that the demoness found that she had almost no control over herself, a slave to her body's own natural lovemaking rhythm. She supposed that she ought to have some sort of boastful comment, or some darkly funny quip to speak while taking her pet for the first time. But behaving like a proper demon didn't really matter to her. The demoness' tail lashed from side to side, lustful growls escaping her as her pleasure built higher and higher. Her taloned hands dug into Gwen's flanks, but the tough horsehide was more than a match for Yeania's small, nail-like claws. The act merely served to enhance the centauress' pleasure. Despite herself, Gwen kept trying to press back against Yeania. She was sure that she ought to have knocked the demoness off the bench with her much larger mass by now, but the demoness held strong, her body apparently more powerful than it looked. The feral growls from her lover seemed to spike instincts from within Gwen, boosting her pleasure all the more. Yeania made no sound as she climaxed, her breath caught in her throat as the sensation overwhelmed her, just as the tide of hot seed into her womb sent Gwen over the edge, a silent cry coming from her throat at the sudden intensity of heat and liquid, drawing her into her own massive climax. It did indeed feel like Yeania had years, decades of stored up seed to pump into her. It would have made her belly swell massively as a human, but with a horse's body it barely added the slightest curve to her belly. It was several minutes before Yeania had recovered the strength to withdraw. Gwen stepped away from the massive mess her maleness had made, shaking her hooves to rid herself of the stickiness. But despite the plentiful release, her equine member was still fully erect, eager for more. Looking down she could see the sheer size of it reflected in the slowly spreading pool of her own seed. It made Gwen blush, her member was absolutely huge! There was no way that it was going to fit in anyone or anything! "Hells you look so sexy, Gwen. You and that big cock. Mmm... I might even end up making it bigger." The demoness purred, hopping down from the bench, turning her back to Gwen and lifting her tail. "But let's see how we like this size before we start changing the little details." The centauress just gawked; surely her mistress wasn't expecting her to... "Gwen, darling, your mistress would like a horsey ride, and by that I want the horse riding me! I hate to see you all needful and aching like that, but if you're going to be so tentative about putting that thing to good use, well... I've always been a fan of use it or lose it." Yeania grinned, "And you most certainly wouldn't want to be the only girl on the island without a nice sexy cock of her own, hmm?" Gwen blushed, placing her forelegs atop the bench Yeania was bent over. "N-no, mistress. Of course not!" she said, sounding almost offended. "There's the passion I want to see. Now, do whatever feels good, my pet. Don't worry about hurting me in the slightest. First of all, because you probably can't, and second because I'll have had much, much worse," she said sweetly, followed up by a growled "So stop prancing around and fuck me already!" "Y-yes!" Gwen cried. "Yes, mistress!" The pleasured cries of both mistress and pet could be heard from all over the island.

(F TF Dragalge TF amalgamation pokemon) Lass Leia liked pokemon since she was little- which wasn't surprising since 90% of the entire planet enjoyed pokemon, and their economy rotated entirely around it, and society as a whole would utterly collapse without them. But she did not just enjoy their company- what she secretly desired was far more unusual, so she generally never told anyone. Stories about the pokemaniac Bill fusing with a pokemon for a breif period of time, campfire stories of people dying and becoming ghost pokemon, or that psychopath in Ballonlea Town that both talks and looks like he should not be allowed to roam freely. Leia absolutely loved the idea of becoming a pokemon herself, somehow. She always knew it was impossible, but she adored stories of it and always secretly held onto the idea. The closest she ever got was that one time she wore her Ditto and got it to transform into a rockin' bod for a Halloween party. That all changed when she arrived in the Kanadah region. She looked out over the vast forests to the vast forests, and the forests beside those. "So... its all wild lands? Where are the cities? Towns? Where the hell does everyone sleep?" Professor Maple chuckled. "In gen1 Kanto your mother slept in the kitchen, which was also the living room, and the bathroom. So if you think this is bad..." She pointed to the north. "There are towns still, just really far apart." She opened a breifcase with three pokeballs in it. "Do you already have a travelling partner? It isn't safe to wander out into the tall grass." Leia cocked an eyebrow. "Why would I go into the grass instead of the path like a normal human being? But uh, is that a shiny Giratina in that third ball? Cuz... I'll take that if you don't want." "Oh damnit. That isn't supposed to be in there. It is hacked- you don't want that one." "Wh-wait how do you hack a pokemon?" Maple shook her head. "It is illegal, all you need to know is to avoid any pokemon that seem hacked. You should head on up to the capital- Quebock City, there are all sorts of shops and good fishing spots. If you talk to other trainers there you might be able to fill in some entries in your Kanadaian pokedex to get you started." And Lass Leia set out for Quebock City and arrived fairly quickly, but she did not start looking for new pokedex entries right away. She subtly started asking around if anyone has been using hacked pokemon. She wanted to track them back to their source and find out how that was even possible. Eventually she found her way to a Youngster in a back lane, he had a laptop set up to several strange canister looking machines and was sat down beside a BFI so people just wandering past on the street likely would not see him. "I was told you could help me hack some pokemon?" He glanced at her and shrugged. "Yeh. I mean, it isn't particularly hard if you have the right equipment." "But... how do you hack a living creature?!" "Ever heard of Porygon?" "Yea, I got a seizure from one." "Well it is a pokemon that is entirely digitally made. You see, when you use a pokeball the pokemon turns into a pure energy state- the inside of a pokeball is reflective pannels to keep the energy in motion and trap it by reflecting it. When you transfer a pokemon to a PC for storage, the computer reads and stores the energy just like it already does electricity. If you can break something down to pure energy while keeping the information it holds, you can easily turn it into data- which means you can use data to turn energy back into something real." "So you can just... create whatever you want?" "Ye-w-well not anything. To make something from scratch you'd need to know what makes it tick, right down to its atomic level and from this brief conversation I can already tell you aren't pulling that off. Pokedex have been gathering information on that for years- so to hack a pokemon you just use that preexisting data. That is mostly what pokedex do- the flavour text is randomly generated by AI based on rough estimates and isn't actually reliable information. Heck, if half the things the pokedex entries told you were true the entire world would have ended a hundred times over by now. Not to mention how would a machine based on gathering information magically know all that stuff just from breifly scanning a creature? The answer is- it doesn't, most of the up-front information it gives you is just fluff." The Youngster handed her a small device and cord and she quickly put it in her Key Items pocket. "So, I just use this and search a pokemon, and it will create it?" "Yup. The pokemon needs to be in your pokedex already obviously, because it needs the data on its makeup. You need to point that light looking thing on the bottom of the device at an object though. It will convert that object into energy and then send a signal to the PC telling it that you should have the pokemon- then the PC uses the energy to create the pokemon. Since it was just created- a hacked pokemon will have no memories to start out with but, meh." "What if I... accidentally point it at a human?" The Younger's eyes went wide. "Uh, well if the person was of equal mass to the pokemon... they would turn into it, I guess? No one's ever been crazy enough to do that before. If they were less than the mass of the pokemon it just wouldn't work." "Greater than the pokemon?" "Weird anthro pokemon I guess? Why are you asking so much ab-" "Gotta go!" Leia quickly darted off. She quickly scooted her way to the nearest body of water- a superior lake. She had a portable PC unit from the Galar region, and hooked that up to the device. She walked out on a thin dock and took her shoes off to dip her toes in the cool water. Leia browsed her collection of pokemon but kept flipping back to her favorite- Dragalge, a Poison/Dragon type. She really wanted to turn into a Dragalge... 5'11" and 179.9lbs, she wasn't that far off. If she pointed it at herself, it would turn her into the pokemon, but because the hacked pokemon would have no memories- hers would remain intact, and because she is already a living creature it wouldn't need to completely break her down to reassemble her. She bit her lip in thought. She really wanted to do this. The only hessitation was that there is no pokedex entry for humans- she could turn into a pokemon but she can't turn back. She decided to hell with it, glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby but then remembered Game Freak barely ever programs wandering NPCs. She slipped out of her clothing and into the cool water, shivering as her body adjusted to the lake water. She placed the two connected devices on the end of the dock and activated it. There was a powerful tingling where the light touched her collar that then radiated through her- delivering new instructions to all her genes. Leia could not stop smiling as she could feel her leg muscles moving on their own, pulling together. Leia's spine started to project outward a bit as the skin around it also puffed up and then hardened- the keratin content of the cells becoming much higher to create a shell for her spin alone. This created a dark powder brown ridge down her back, protecting it from hard. Dragalge does have immense defensive stats. Leia arched herself forward and moaned as three blade-like spikes formed from her spine in the middle, arching up to give her even more protection. Her hard spine grew a bit longer, but not too far. Her legs started to quickly fuse together at the top going down- the muscle structure equalized between the two sides to completely erase any sign they were seperate- which also caused her hips and butt to vanish. Pokemon do not deficate after all- their digestive systems were advanced enough that it broke down and used all of the material it took in, so there was no waste to get rid of. Leia closed her eyes and scrunched her face up a bit at the weird feeling of her breasts tightening and regressing into her chest- but like her back the skin was rapidly hardening and getting pulled into the middle rather than being disposed of. It formed into a blade-like spike that trailed into her collar bone, and then split. It followed the collar to her shoulders and tapered off there, and a small strip went up to her neck before tapering off there. She had to break her concentration off from her changes a bit though, having to now focus on relaxing herself the best she could while she changed. She needed to float in the water- her arms were starting to change, the bones softening quickly, which meant she could not swim till her changes advanced farther. Her united thighs started to stretch out a bit farther now that they formed a single tube of muscle. The hard skin on her chest started to trail down her front onto this forming tail, protecting it from the front rather than the back. Her knees fused together, but the joined remained there as the hardened front ridge formed a spike off of it and continued down. Her feet united and lost all shape- the bones vanished entirely, but the muscle structure developed further. The hardened skin took over the entire united foot which spread as she flexed the muscles, turning into a multi-point sheet that looked like a halfway between a leaf and a fin. It was a fin- bit Dragalge thrived by disguising themselves as drifting kelp, so it was also meant to look somewhat plant like. The muscles that used to control individual toes now controlled a strip of the fin, allowing her to curl or wiggle it. It was made of the reinforced flesh, so it felt outwardly stiff and extremely thick- somewhat like the tail of a beaver... er, I mean a Bibarel. This made swimming much easier- the fin could slam water around easily when cupped or glide through when held straight. Leia had never thought about the shape of its lower body that much before- a bit confused when her knee joint remained as-is. That is why there is a steep kink in a Dragalge's tail- its the knee. Her arms started to transform with the dense brown skin, her bones almost gone as the limbs stretched and flattened, losing their human shape very quickly. The ends developed into long leaf like fins as well as several small streamers trailing off what used to be her forearms, again to mimic kelp. She furrowed her brow a bit as the coloration continued to change- the dark powder brown started to blush a hue of dark violet. "What is it..." She gasped sharply. "Oh my God!" She squealed with glee, momentarily forgetting her concentration and almost falling under the water. "IM SHINY!!" A passing Hiker rubbed his bald head selfconsciously. "So am I, but you don't hear me bragging about it." Her regular skin was marked with gentle ribbing from the muscle structure below, and turned a pale violet at first, but once her shiny gene kicked in quickly converted to a vibrant baby blue. Her long limbs fully finished forming- now relying on powerful hardened muscle sinew to move free of a skelital structure. Her body still had bones, but not her arms, and not the end of her tail. Her neck started to harden to the dark violet armored flesh that quickly advanced up her head. Her hair started to clump up and fuse together, forming into sheets as it turned powder red, with two streaks of base green that grew out a bit longer than the rest. The sheets acted like dead kelp and float on the surface of the water as camo. They also absorbed solar energy to convert to draconic power. The stiffening skin on her neck tugged on her spine which gave off muffled pops as her neck was stretched longer. Leia's face started to push out longer as well, her nose extending to her upper jaw and joining with it to pull out even longer. The nose started to turn up at the end forming a large snout. Her mouth remained almost the exact same size, making it rather small for the new sized head, and almost entirely hidden under the snout. The back of her head extended out a bit, forming into smaller sheets of the armored skin, with two extremely long streamers that almost reached as low as her knee when resting. The shiny gene turned her top sheets that used to be her hair from powder red to bright green and the base green streaks to yellow. She was complete! Now able to swim with ease as well as breath under water she dove down and twirled around, feeling the water against her fins! The Special Defense leviathan- a dragon that is not weak to Faerie types! Once she had swam around for a bit she returned to the dock to turn the device off. The 'transfer' was complete so it was just asking her if she wanted to withdraw any other pokemon, so she tapped no to shut it all down. Nothing happened though. She furrowed her brows with a sigh, realising the problem. The touch screens were adjusted to only register human finger presses- she didn't have human fingers, it wasn't recognising her fin point tapping on the screen. She waved the fin back and forth on the dock trying to get the wood to dry it off enough so the screen would pick up on it. Leia tried to press no again but it was hard to tell with fins exactly what she was pressing, so she just sort of mashed the entire right side of the screen, which ended up clicking outside the dialog box- onto Snorlax. The dialog box closed and the device shot another beam onto her for a moment, except this time she felt dread rather than giddy eagerness. Leia sighed. "Oh wait, if it doesn't have equal mass the device won't work. You're having a real Shuckle if you think I have mass equal to a Snorlax." She felt a warm tightness start to seep into her gut, looking down at it in confusion and seen the water rippling around her unusually. Oh no- she doesn't have the mass of a Snorlax... but the lake she is in sertainly does. The machine was converting the water! Her body started to inflate forward getting rounder and heavier. If she was out of water she wouldn't be able to move at all- but in water it actually made it easier to float; fat is very buoyant. Leia could feel Snorlax's triangular little ears growing on her head as she frantically mashed the screen on the device trying to get it to stop. If she could bring up literally any other selection or menu it should pause the change at least. She was starting to look like a Dragalge parade balloon but finally got it to pause before her coloration or limbs started to change. *Group select- which pokemon would you like?* "Oh god, that is even worse!" She quickly mashed the top of the screen where selection modes were- trying her best to avoid touching any pokemon in her storage boxes. *Voice selection mode- which pokemon would you like?* "Ah shit. Good enough I guess, at least I am not changing any more." *21 results found for Shit. 683 results found for Good Enough. Can you be more specific?* Her brows lowered at the machine. "Can you undo the last selection? Uhm... reverse? Backspace?" She felt a tingle again and she started to change, but not her huge gut! Something was happening to her head. It felt good but also... weird. She looked at the selection screen in confusion and seen Malamar selected! How the hell did it get Malamar from what she just asked?! Then it hit her- reverse... Malamar's default ability is Contrary, it reverses all stat modifications. Though the flaps of false kelp on her head that used to be her hair remained untouched, the ones that trailed her head on the sides started to thicken like her gut had- but instead of fat these filled with muscle tissue. Leia moaned at the oddly nice feeling of her head getting thicker, and four large, thick tentacles formed trailing off the back of her head! The skin on her giant gut started to turn pale purple like the shiny gene had reverted there- but it also became semi translucent as three bioluminescent lights appeared below the surface on either side of the reinforced frame that still ran down the middle of her round torso. "Aaah~! I need hands to stop this thing!" She heard the machine confirm a selection. "Don't you fucking dare..." *Ambipom... not found.* Leia sighed. "Of course not, I hate that pokemon. I can't fix this without changing more... I guess... Hoopa." *Hoopa- withdrawing* Leia smirked. "Unbound form. Good thinking me- lets give the girl a HAND!" A gold ring appeared beside her and she looked at it concentrating a moment before claws started to appear from it- using the ring as a portal. A blue clawed hand emerged and then a forearm before it became too thick to fit through the ring. It ended in two fingers and a thumb, but that was good enough to hold and manipulate things with. While she watched it five more formed around her- three to either side. She had to concentrate quite hard to figure out how to even move them at all. It was a good thing Malamar was part Psychic. The rings were not physically attached to her, which meant there was not really a maximum range on them- she could put her limbs anywhere without actually moving her body. That was just a matter of registering that fact in her head and understanding it. The complicated part is she now has six hands instead of two- but her fins are still there which were her original limbs- so her brain is trying to process six more arms than its ever had. Leia winced a moment as two horns started to emerge from the sides of her head and she remembered she had to pause or cancel the transfer or it would just keep going. She canceled it and was about to hit Deposit to try and undo some of these unwanted changes, but froze up before touching it. That was extremely risky. There was a slim chance it would pull transformations out of her, but a much better chance it will just yank her entire being into the PC. If she went digital any human traits- including her personality and memory would be discarded at best or create a glitch and crash the system at worst. Neither were acceptable terms for Leia. For now, she changed the selection method off of voice so it didn't misinterpret her again. So if she could not undo her transformations like that, maybe she can override them? What if she just selected another random pokemon and did not cancel the transformation? Turning into one would cancel out the others presumably. She cannot select a pokemon she already has in her body, because the PC will think its already withdrawn still, so she has to pick yet another. She supposed it did not really matter which the chose then, since as soon as it finished she would just pick Dragalge again and revert back to her 'proper' form. She flicked the screen and then tapped without even looking at the pokemon. *Escavalier- withdrawing* Leia chuckled and shook her head at the oddball pick. At least between Dragalge and Escavalier her defenses should be damn near invincible- Escavalier is only weak to Fire type and since Dragalge is part Dragon, it resists Fire. At first it looked like silvery sweat beads forming on her arm fins but as it collected and spread it quickly hardened into a metal sheen. The weight of the forming metal seeping from her pours caused her fins to droop at the end, and the metal covered the smaller streamers on her former forearms as well, causing them to dangle down like metal icicles. The result looked more like a multi-tipped scythe than lances like Escavalier had. The top portion of the hard bracket on her spine turned metal as well, but not the entire length of it- only the middle to top. The skin on her head started to stiffen and grow up a bit, forming a oddly rectangular base, gathering her hair flaps together, forming a crest like Escavalier's helmet... but still made of the flaps. The helmet started to form out of the base of the crest, but stretched over a Dragalge's head it looked sort of like a metal skull. Her body started to ache a bit but did not seem to transform past this point. She had to cancel the transfer to get the ache to stop. Leia grumbled... so much for that plan. The reason it could override her human body is because it isn't programmed to recognise it as a human body in the first place- the only thing it recognises is pokemon. Which means she cannot override pokemon traits. She can add more but not subtract. And even adding traits was somewhat limited- she let the Escavalier transfer run but this was as much as her body could take of that one pokemon. It was most likely reserved for only the primary traits. She had to wave her tail fin harder now just to stay idle in the water- metal was great for defense but terrible for swimming. She went to grab the dock to steady herself but heard the dock creak from her pressing down on it while her body remained bobbing in the water. Damnit! Her extra hands aren't actually attached to her so she cannot lift herself like that. She had to bob up and hook the dock on her chin to stable herself then flapped her fin arms up onto the dock to hold it. Leia moaned as a strange energetic tingle fired through her quickly. What on earth was that? She looked at the screen on the device but she never touched anything- it wasn't doing anything. She then shifted her left fin over and realised it had been on top of her Dynamax band she left with her clothes she took off before. She looked up in a panic and seen three red clouds forming as they spun in a halo over her. SHIT. It was a strange feeling, because Dynamaxing doesn't actually make the pokemon bigger, its somewhat of an illusion, or more like a tangible projection of the pokemons aura. In the Kanadah region there shouldn't be any Power Spots to activate the Galar Particles though! Leia looked down into the water at a red glow and sighed. Most people hated Dynamax mechanics- so when they get to the new region they tossed their wishing stars into the lake to get rid of them immediately... there was so many at the bottom of the lake it created a Power Spot. She could tell how some pokemon went berserk when G Maxing. The power seething into her body as she got bigger was intoxicating. But her gut started to round out even faster than the rest of her, which caused her actual body to groan and stretch. But Dynamaxing isn't supposed to change her physical.... oh wait. The Snorlax... can Gigantimax. She pressed her Dynamax band several times before banging it against the dock in frusteration. Why wasn't any of this equipment built with an off switch?! It runs out in three turns but she isn't in combat so there are no turns to pass! In her quickly growing state though, she failed to notice her manipulations of the band were causing one of the dangling metal spikes on the side of her arm to hit the screen of the hack device! *Metagross- transferring. We have detected that you have pressed several buttons at the same time, multiple times. Would you like to activate Fat Fingers mode and switch to voice commands?* She quickly pulled her growing arms back off the dock. "Oh screw you. I'm not even going to touch the damn thing" Four of her six additional arms quickly pulsed bigger, straining the gold rings they were contained in. The skin quickly started to harden- the iron concentration in her skyrocketing as the limbs became almost petrified. The fingers regressed and the arms and claws turned to metal- the four metal arms of a Metagross- the psychic steel pokemon. She furrowed her brow as she heard what sounded like other voices in her head. After a few moments though Leia determined the other voices were still her- Metagross has multiple brains so now so did she. Different parts of her psyche split, so rather than them being a percentage of her current thoughts, they had equal weight. *Confirmed, activating voice mode.* "I didn't press anything!" Rotom's face appeared on the screen. *I know, I am just messing with you. Remember when you said the Rotom Dex was the most annoying character in the series?* "Oh uh... well, I was just saying that to go with the crowd. I wasn't saying that TO you." *Transferring Hydreigon* Leia felt her middle two extra hands start to transform, bloating up quickly causing the fingers to mush together and fuse into a big mass. The skin grew thicker and darkened to black just before it split several times from the tip, opening up like a flower, but what was inside was another head! A blue dragon head, with sunken black eyes. Her brain appropriately split into two more, but the Hydreigon auxiliary heads are not especially smart- so only lesser aspects of her psyche projected into them. "You little shit! Payback!" Because she used Payback after Rotom, its power was doubled, in addition to the fact Rotom is already weak to dark type. The attack fired from one of her dragon heads as a bolt of negative light and blasted right through the machine- slamming the KOed Rotom into the dock on the other side. The machine started to spit sparks wildly! It was still on, she only destroyed part of it- the part that was required to interface with it properly! It was sending scrambled signals to the other device! Her tail fin started to become stiff and curl on its own as it quickly hardened, turning to metal like her claws. It was taking the shape of a colossal bell? Oh, Bronzong. Two of the orbiting red clouds from over her flew down and touched her back, fanning out into wings like Altaria. With the now formed bell-tail it was too heavy to swim with and she just sank to the bottom. But her head only actually sunk a few inches. She was still growing- and was now as tall as the lake was deep! The metal skull helmet fused to her face continued to harden beyond metal- turning to a pink hue. It thickened a bit as facets formed in its crystaline structure- it formed into a mask of pink diamonds, taking features from the mythic Diancie. Leia half-groaned half-roared as her neck started to rapidly grow in length, turning green and black from Mega Rayquaza. Rayquaza is 23 feet long and half of that is neck! And still she was growing, with her belly growing rounder a bit ahead of the rest of her. What had been Snorlax ears on her head grew out as cotton fluff formed on the ends, causing them to flop over from their weight- Lopunny ears. Her knee was resting on the lake bottom, the bell-end of her tail was at the shore on the opposite side of the lake, and her body was so big and long that the water level was barely higher than her hips. Her arms started to grow even more streamers that started to lash around all on their own- Tangrowth vines. Even her vagina grew and changed- pokemon do not produce waste but they do still breed. Her labia grew longer and stiffened on the outside into several frilled plates, like the shell of a Cloyster. Her clit remained soft and rubbery, though gave off a delicious scent that made other creatures tempted to try and eat it- it was the same vibrant pink of a Slowpoke tail after all. Her extremely long neck caused her to flop over, unable to hold herself upright. Her belly squished out against the ground somewhat holding her up but as soon as her arms touched the ground, they started to vein out even more, growing around the metal spikes and digging into the ground as roots! Trevenant! She could not lift them up again, they gripped the ground too tightly! She let out a long pained groan at her situation, accidentally burping a huge blast of fire at the same time, surprising herself. Arceus appeared before her in a flash of light, looking her over for a moment before speaking to her within her own thoughts. *Uhm... that thing you're doing? Have you ever considered maybe not doing that? Being maybe something that isn't an affront to nature? I didn't make this universe so you could come along and shit on it. I know you humans like to play God but that is already sort of my thing, soo...* "I didn't do this on purpose! Save me!" *If it means I don't have to look at this thing anymore, sure.* And so Arceus turned Leia back into a human in the blink of an eye. Or longer- she doesn't know; he knocked her out with Judgement before he did it so it could have taken hours for all she knows. She woke up in a Pokemon Center. She sighed and just stared at the roof for several minutes, thinking of what could have been- and what horrors had been. When Leia went to get up off the stretcher her limbs responded strangely and as she looked down her smile returned. Arceus didn't revert her to a human- he reverted her back to a Shiny Dragalge! Leia would go on to be a bit of a local legend- the Dragalge too powerful to ever be caught by a trainer. Which admittedly wasn't too hard in a world where professional pokemon trainers think its a good idea to bring a Magikarp to a Max Raid against an Electric type and expect to live. She would have entered tournaments and become even more famous but she was actually banned from competitive matches. The pokemon league determined she was hacked.

As far as anyone knew, it was a normal day. Much like always, the sun rose, the world spun around, people got around to their daily routines, and the ground around Carla and Beth’s house shook when the two giantesses woke up and rolled out of bed. Even with the reinforced foundations and extra-strength steel springs installed within them doing their best to absorb most of the impact, along with the compressor field erected around the house itself, the two giantesses were, put simply, too big not to be noticed. Not that their neighborhood was going to complain about it, not when they had, well, two demi-goddesses living alongside them as if it was the most natural thing in the world; for a pair of high-flying corporate success stories, one would’ve expected their home to utterly dominate whatever suburb was graced by it, but the reality of it was that unless one knew exactly what to look for, the couple’s domicile was utterly… mundane, especially since they kept the dimensional distortion machinery in a shed in the backyard where no one could see it. In fact, unless either of the two women actually left to do something, one might be forgiven for thinking that the house was owned by two perfectly ordinary people who just so happened to conduct most of their business from the comfort of their own home; and while the latter might be absolutely true, the former was most definitely not the case, so much so that both Beth and Carla went to great lengths to ensure that it remained untrue… though not for reasons one might expect. When the two first met, which by that point had been so long ago in the past that neither of them could exactly recall, they had been, for lack of a better word, average; the potential had always been there, but without either of the two in place to realize it, they both went through life believing themselves to be just faces in the crowd. They were competent at their jobs, they had a social life like everyone else did, dreams, hopes, aspirations, and maybe some day they would find someone they’d love to spend the rest of their life with; the main difference, of course, was when the two fulfilled that last wish, their lives were turned upside down by the revelation that what they presumed to be merely an above-average learning capacity was, in fact, something far deeper. It took the Luca and Rena moving in together before either of them realized just how much more the other could accomplish, how far they could get if only they put in the effort; they had discussed their work life and other accomplishments before, sure, but it was only after they began sharing every waking hour together that Carla and Beth also made sure to poke and prod at their better half (for the other was always a better half) to let them know that they had so much potential unrealized. And while this was initially circumscribed purely to the realms of the professional, it didn’t remain that way for long; soon the two were motivating one another to reach greater heights in their workout regimens, in their hobbies, in their dreams, in their hopes, in just how they saw themselves, in every aspect really, again and again, over and forevermore… until the changes began to take place in earnest. It’d be impossible for such a relentless onslaught of mutual positivity to not have some degree of transformative effect on them, and in fact, in retrospect, perhaps it should’ve come as no surprise that the couple would exceed expectations even at the very act of succeeding expectations, but ultimately, the reality of it was that they became… better. Not better than, not better at, but simply better, in whatever it was they tried, whatever it may be that they attempted to become, whatever they even so much as had graze their minds, let alone put the full might of them to it. If they felt like engaging in a new hobby, they would find themselves mastering it within a day, at best two; from barely understanding how an easel was supposed to work to creating masterpieces fit to be put on display in world-renowned galleries. From needing a full instruction manual just to know which part was the RAM to constructing full gaming rigs without even trying. From fumbling most of their attempts at high cuisine to, through a few serendipitous turns of fate, having a Michelin Star offered to them thanks to their contributions to the culinary arts. Whatever it was that either gal wanted to do, the other would sit beside them and let them know that they could be the absolute best at it if they just put their mind to it… so they did. It was as simple as that, though entirely inexplicable, so much so that their home had become a veritable museum-slash-industrial complex that was significantly larger on the inside that it first appeared; countless rooms, each one dedicated to one particular pursuit, were constructed and added to the structure as needed, often several in one day whenever either of the two amazons felt particularly curious, all of them linked to a central teleportation network that Carla and Beth had devised in one of the few occasions where they put their terrifyingly vast intellects together to come up with a solution to their transportation problem. They had already solved the issue of space by creating and deploying the compressor zone, but one could only walk through so many miles of corridors before growing bored of it, hence the need for instant deployment. The effects of their mutual build-up were such that they extended to the realm of the physical as well, hence why neither the Renamon nor Lucario ever went outside anymore; the corporate empires that they had devised, registered, created and then expanded into world-spanning mega-conglomerates in the span of a few months were mostly capable of running themselves without their CEOs’ involvement, which was very much by design given how their physical forms had already been unwieldy back when they decided to get involved in industrial ventures out of sheer boredom. Even with both of them carrying about a dozen stacked compressor layers each, they were still absolutely enormous, with both women standing at a proud twenty feet in height, and possessed of curves so outrageous that the only reason they even managed to get into anywhere was because folks seemed to enjoy dismantling and reconstructing buildings on the fly whenever the couple got near them, just in case the two giantesses might want to come in… and that had been several months before, during which time they only got bigger. It was hard to tell what their full size was, given that their home was built to scale upwards with them as they went along; every night they would go to sleep in a room with certain amount of space in it, and every morning they would wake up in a room that was several times larger, yet proportioned in just the right way to make it impossible to tell. Given that neither Beth nor Carla were particularly interested in obsessively measuring their progress, it was understandable that they didn’t know just how big they actually were, especially since whatever the size might be, it would never be enough; the Renamon would tell her precious Lucario that they were so tiny, incomprehensibly so, that all they had to do was let go and become what they were meant to be, with the Luca firing back to say that the very same applied to the Rena, and thus the two carried on with a cycle that, while not exactly vicious, was certainly unbroken, and most definitely unbreakable. If either of them bothered to check their dimensional distortion equipment (which had also been modified so it would automatically self-upgrade over time), they’d be able to tell that their forms were somewhere in the range of the several miles tall; in fact, should they ever leave the safety of the compressor zone, it was highly likely that just a single one of them would be capable of utterly destroying their neighborhood, every surrounding one, and the whole damned city they lived next to without even realizing that it had happened, all while wondering why the sky around them had grown so dark, and why the air was so thin. And with each passing day only providing yet more opportunities for the two of them to encourage one another to become bigger and better, this was an unsustainable process that was sure to break down at some point… though not on their side. No machine could contain them forever, no planet would be capable of withstanding their full glory, if only because Carla and Beth were so infatuated with one another that their love and devotion would, by definition, transcend all bounds; what was gravity to their adoration, what were the laws of physics compared to what they felt when they looked in each other’s eyes? To simply accept their lover’s station, to look at their better half and declare it to be “good enough”, was an affront to what they both knew was the reality of the situation: that no matter how fantastically excessive either of them became, they were certain the other half of the couple could be better, because they were better! This was, of course, an uncompromisable position; they couldn’t both be better than one another, no matter how hard they insisted on this being the case, but if that much was true, then it simply had to become untrue, since, after all, Carla was convinced that Beth was far more… more, really, than herself, a sentiment mirrored perfectly on Beth’s side. Most of their growth and gains were, ultimately, predicated on this sense of divine inferiority, where while both women recognized that what their partner said about them was true, they were still somehow better regardless, no matter how paradoxical that statement might be at any one given point, or how literally impossible it was for it to be so. Their everyday life had become something of a battlefield, where compliments and praise were wielded like firearms and artillery, where lines were drawn not in the mud, but in whatever accomplishments were had just that day; there were no real victories inflicted at the cost of defeats, merely a single, continuous process of elation, a glorification of two bodies and two selves that, for each moment that passed, approached true perfection just a little bit more, even if they were both unwilling to accept it purely because that would mean their partner would then not be better than they themselves were. Attempting to explain it to anyone else had led to far too many awkward situations in the past, hence why both women were perfectly happy with living indoors all day long, and as time went on and their mutual love for one another only grew more powerful as a result, the awkwardness began to spread to them as well; it was a difficult situation to parse, because admitting defeat would be antithetical to their state of being: if either Carla or Beth had to stop saying the other was more perfect than they were, then they might charitably interpret that to mean their partner had achieved uttermost perfection… but then, why couldn’t they do more anyway? If they reached a peak, surely they just had to make a new mountain to climb to become even better, hence why they couldn’t just give up trying to motivate one another, even if that was probably the sanest possible end to their ridiculous saga of mutually-enforced ascension. Yet, at the same time, they could both tell that things had began to take a turn for the unsustainable, for while they were perfectly fine with the idea of making their partner become better forever, it was clearer by the day that the two were evenly matched, making it somewhat hard for them to truly keep going without having to resort to serious mental gymnastics… or winning. Winning was always an option, even if neither gal had managed to reach that point yet: the hypothetical end state of their journey, where they were so persuasive (or at least so insistent) that their better half relented and admitted that they were far superior. If they were to be honest, neither of them knew what this would actually do; perhaps there would be a grand finale, an explosion of divine might that could only occur when their partner finally admitted that they were, indeed, a goddess… or perhaps there’d be nothing, and the two of them would just have to find a new hobby that could entertain their hyper-developed minds. Whatever the case may be, however, both Beth and Carla were utterly convinced that this was something they had to do, that despite everything else, every piece of evidence they had, their years together, and everything they had accomplished without ever getting close to getting their message across, they had to make their better half admit that they were perfection incarnate. It was instinctive, it ran deeper than anything they had ever felt, and as a result, both the Luca and Rena woke up that day knowing that they were going to make it happen. How, exactly, they didn’t know, and this was part of the reason why they assumed it had to be true; the question of how they could get their partner to shut up and accept their unconditional love without trying to put a question mark over it had been, perhaps fittingly, the only enigma they never cracked, the one puzzle that steadfastly refused to be solved. One could make the argument that the entire reason for the two women to have reached the heights that they did was so they could have an ever-higher amount of resources, both mental and otherwise, to dedicate towards solving this one riddle; perhaps, if they were lucky, they would find the answer hidden away in the depths of quantum field theory, or in the recipe for a particularly good pudding. One thing was certain, however, at least in their minds: that day, that one particular day, would be the one where the barriers were brought down and their lover admitted to their own divinity, and nothing would stand in the way of this. Notably, this hadn’t been the first time that either of the two gals had thought of it; it just so happened that, as they became so much better at quite literally everything with every day that passed, previous efforts felt almost insignificant in comparison with what they could accomplish nowadays, even if they were, essentially, the exact same thing. It was a convenient form of pretending that “this time” it was for real, that “this time” would be the one, and that there hadn’t been dozens of “this times” spread across the years, each as ineffective as the last. Fortuitously for the both of them, the universe did in fact have an upper limit to what it could endure; the couple would happily carry on with this cycle for as long as they physically could, but unbeknownst to them, this wasn’t nearly as far away as they assumed it was. While it was easy for them to forget the sheer degree of spatial fuckery that was required to keep them housed without destroying the planet in the process, the distortions were still there, and seeing as the dimensional knot only became more tangled with time and their growing size, something would have to break… and it certainly wouldn’t be the universe that did so. Perhaps it could, in some alternate timeline where Beth and Clara weren’t perfect enough, and reality decided that it needed to reboot itself in order to put things back on track, but for the mainline versions, the prime versions of themselves, it was clear that no such thing would take place; either the very fabric of existence was so stubborn as to refuse to give up either, or it just so happened that the divine couple had reached such a peak of perfection that the entirety of cosmos collectively decided to bow down towards them, to accept the two women as the new rulers of all that was and all that could be. Should the former be true, then obviously the underlying structure of the universe wasn’t going to give up so easily, and if the latter turned out to be right, then clearly reality couldn’t just stop, for if it did so, then the Luca and Rena wouldn’t have a reality in which to shine like eternal stars! Whatever the case may be, the end result was the same regardless: the compression machinery was bound to malfunction at some point, after it reached a barrier of how much it could hold back, and seeing as neither Beth nor Carla were particularly interested in keeping tabs over how much their inventions were struggling, they would do absolutely nothing to fix it; whether or not they could was the greatest question never answered, since, if their genius knew no bounds, then surely they should be capable of breaking the very thing that broke reality twice over in some odd, reverse-loop deal where they effectively set new rules for existence itself, fiddling with universal constants in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Alas, they were too busy living their lives like they always did, trying their best to convince their partner that they were the bestest, most perfectest and amazing person who ever lived and could live, all while their better half did the exact same. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, all of them lived within the confines of a house that only grew bigger with each moment that passed, until it could rival the planet for raw size… for about a day or two, after which it just kept growing. Anomalous time fluctuations ensured that, while the outside world experienced just a few hours, the two lovers within the unassuming house in suburbs went through entire decades’ worth of time, growing all the while; the difference only grew more accentuated, more absurd, until it reached a point where eons were spent in mutual adoration while the rest of the universe experienced but a moment, eons where each day that passed brought with it new heights, new states of being, new ways of existence that the cosmos at large would balk at and do its best to stamp down… not that it could, but still. Carla and Beth went through stages in this immortal pursuit of theirs, becoming less than physical as they ascended towards energetic forms before coalescing into gaseous clouds of thought that then condensed into physical states once more, repeated on a loop a few dozen times as the two’s intellect grew to such a point that, even within their distorted view of the passage of time, a single instant could take years to pass as all the information contained within their minds was run through in an effort to find the next argument, the next compliment, the next kind word that might make their partner feel better and more secure about themselves. They had crafted universes for one another purely for the sake of demonstrating that whatever they could create, their better half could do better; from birth to death, countless civilizations were nurtured in their bosom and saved in stasis to be kept from oblivion when the time came for it, all so that their eternal, endless war of adoration could continue to be fought. The couple broke physics entirely, redesigning it around their particular needs, no longer requiring such unnecessary things as food, water, rest or oxygen; their bodies existed because they ordained them to exist, and as such, they would be there long after the point where the conditions required for things to be ceased being themselves. They were eternal, perennial, perfection incarnate, the very face of divinity itself; they could create life with the snap of a finger, create new sets of constants for their pet universes, even create entire galleries where each display plinth had one sub-iteration of their cosmos that they attempted to use as evidence as to why they were the inferior half of the couple. One side of these museums belonged to Carla, the other to Beth, and each saw their own collection as proof positive that they were blessed to remain in second place forever, despite the fact that their collective creations had long-since surpassed reality’s ability to even grade them at all. Eventually, they had to stop relying on singular realities and moved onto the realms of the multiversal, with beautiful arrangements more akin to art installations that the sum total of countless existences being created and put in place for the purest sake of it; after a while, neither the Renamon nor the Lucario even knew what they were doing any of this for, because clearly it had stopped being useful in their “war” against one another… but they couldn’t stop. Somehow, their lives had gained a new certainty, that being that they were lifegiving, life-creating goddesses who, through sheer coincidence, began to sow the seeds for new beings, for new realities even, without even realizing that such was their fate; though the change was initially difficult for them to process, it eventually fit neatly into their ongoing narrative, as now they could use the very notion of them being capable of creating new timelines and sub-instances of their universe as their greatest weapon yet, nevermind the fact that each of their creations most likely outsized “their” cosmos by several orders of magnitude, to say nothing of the the multiversal arrays they arranged them into. It was just their normal, their new normal, to the point where every “day” that passed, trillions of new universal bubbles were created without either Carla or Beth noticing that this even happened, as their bodies and minds had reached such a state of absolute perfection that their presence alone was enough to create these super-sized structure through their willpower alone; they were no longer creating them, for to do so would imply that they were even trying to accomplish it, rather than the emergence of metaverses being a requirement for their continued existence. After all, their bodies could only contain so much power within them, and seeing as the fraction of it that was automatically shed had to go somewhere, it would eventually reform into a series of increasingly-complex pataversal architectures whose fractal nature required several dozen zoom-ins before one even came close to the multiversal level, let alone the individual, tiny little marbles that contained each individual cosmos. For the couple, this was less an astoundingly dizzying concept to wrap their heads around and far more of a blunt cudgel to be wielded in their unending attempts at convincing their better half that they were the better half, no matter how little success they had in trying to do so; they had convinced themselves, both of them, that if they just kept going, then eventually they would succeed, even when the compressor machinery keeping their house from exploding outwards into a new form of reality began to falter. They no longer woke up on a bed, nor did they use a kitchen or living room; they had no more rooms in which to satisfy themselves with random hobbies that they imagined up, created and then mastered, nor did they even have a physical presence to begin with. The Rena and Luca couple transcended the concept of existing, becoming something that was, at once, and wasn’t, nevermore, existing and yet not in every possible state at every possible moment from the start of the first reality to the end of the last one, the latter being one that had their own thumbprints all over it. They saw the sum total of all that could be, even other, adjacent timelines where the faintest silhouette of other Beths and other Carlas became increasingly visible, until the couple was but one of literally countless others, all of them struggling to convince one another of the exact same thing, all of them embattled in a war of attrition that could only end in one way. But for this version of the couple, things weren’t so simple; though they saw so many others, though these other couples too ascended to become goddesses, they were… inferior. Not as in lesser, of course, but merely possessed of a quality that was unlike their own, signifying that, rather than equal competitors in an unthinkably vast conflict, they were simply more ammunition; it was only after the couple came to this realization that they began to see instances of themselves that had resolved their dispute, examples where Carla had convinced Beth that the latter was the better one in the two of them, and vice-versa. These were, of course, impossible to compromise with how the Prime couple saw themselves, and as such, were then clearly meant to be used as but the next step in their own fight. It made sense really: they had gone from mere compliments, to acts that defied common sense, to revolutionizing science, to breaking physics, to ascending to godhood, to creating life, and now… well, now they used themselves. Now they would cannibalize time itself in their endless quest, pointing towards the eternal recurrence of other Renamons and other Lucarios as proof positive that if meta-reality wanted them to give up, then clearly it should’ve stopped giving them even more things to sling at their partner. Clearly, whoever was running the show should have decided on which one of them was the best, rather than just throwing even more nonsensical elements into the mix, knowing full well that, regardless of what happened, this was one question that could never be resolved; perhaps, ultimately, that was what they wanted, perhaps there was some kind of super-god, one who reigned above all others, a supra-cosmic weaver of tales who had, for whatever reason, thought to use the two of them to get something out of their system… or, perhaps, the two of them had simply transcended the bounds of the logical, and found their way to the next stage of reality. After all, everything they had done up until that point had been mind-bendingly vast in scale, but ultimately still something that could be understood as per their own view of what reality was; it required plenty of odd prefixes, sure, but it was still just a stacked layer of universes over another, with time thrown into the mix as a transversal thing that served more as a sharpened stick than anything else. Now though, perhaps they reached a new understanding, one where their very being was no longer under control of whatever narrative they were placed, but rather they were the ones who decided where things went, and whoever had been typing their story up until that point was no longer calling the shots. They liked that notion; it made them feel powerful, but above all else, it served as the absolute best possible weapon they could employ, for what else could be more powerful than the omnipotent declarations of the one writing their story? What else could possibly be more determining than the words by which their reality was made manifest, written by some unseen entity that they couldn’t care less about? Beth was the better half; Carla was the better half. Beth was the better half. Carla was the better half. As they write this, it becomes reality, at least until the other one picks the pen up and undoes it with a flick of a wrist, at least until the other types something else out, at least until the other backspaces it away. It’s a battle that can’t be won, one that shouldn’t be won, seeing as their entire raison d’être was to play out this scenario for all of eternity and beyond; had they not already beaten their own game? Had they not wrenched victory from the very bounds of their narrative structure? The author was irrelevant at that point, because they were the ones holding the pen, the keyboard, the typewriter, the piece of paper, anything that could even remotely be used as a means of crafting the written word into something resembling a coherent tale. Perhaps the author thought to himself that he was still in control, that the words flowing from his fingers as he listened to the falling rain were his to pick, even as he wrote them, even as he saw his thoughts flow freely from a mind that had been subverted into a series of symbols that his brain could interpret as being words with meaning. Perhaps he convinced himself that he was still in control, and whatever odd turns the story had taken were purely his own invention; it certainly couldn’t be that a random couple he wrote up for a smutty story containing two anthropomorphic creatures from two different franchises could ever approach what he perceived to be “reality”, it was just… a story. It was fake. It couldn’t be real. It was a series of words, some of which had red underlining that he’d have to go back to later, and it could never be anything else; this he had convinced himself of, even as he wrote evidence to the contrary. A meta twist, perhaps? The ascension of the two goddesses to the “real” world? It hadn’t been something he had tried before, nor was it something he’d try again. Because ultimately, he had convinced himself that he was still in control, that he could just turn off his computer and the two women he wrote into being would cease existing, at least until he had to correct the grammatical errors. But how wrong he was. Carla and Beth weren’t anywhere near done.

(M tf Multi-animal Hybrid) Lance was on his way home from the market when he seen a crowd of people at the side of the road all murmuring to one another. He managed to peer between heads and shoulders to see a very wooly sheep that looked well overdue for a sheering. The sheep was looking around rather distressed, and shoved down onto its legs by its own wool was human clothing! Lance narrowed his eyes at that and hustled home as quickly as he could to grab something and run back. Damn that rabbit. Looming over the city's horizon was the giant castle Greivanhal, home to the sentient avatars of magic itself. Arcane was not much of a problem, though she was a bit naive and could still be tricked into doing evil. Occult on the other hand actively sought out trouble. A woman turned into a bleating sheep in the middle of the street? That had Occult written all over it. Lance quickly returned with an odd item in hand. It was a crystal dodecahedron framed by several rings of copper that both contained the crystal but also orbited it- the rings did not physically touch the crystal inside. Lance pushed his way through to the sheep as the people around it discussed what to do with her. When Lance held up his odd device he held it out loosely balanced on his palm so his grip did not interfere with the orbit of the rings. The rings spun around each other and the crystal and eventually aligned a set of runes. The rings acted as a compass- they identified the type of spell present, representing it as a set of runes. The rings were covered in runes, and each ring lined one up to form the spell identifier. Lance then activated the crystal using his will power- manifested as the bio-electrical signals his brain uses to operate his nervous system. In a burst the sheep seemed to explode into colored mist and the form of a nude woman plopped down where it had been, while the mist was drawn toward Lance's crystal and then scattered to the wind around it. Everyone looked shocked to Lance and the woman scrambled to get her still intact clothes back on while thanking him, but also wanting to flee as quickly as possible before her tormentor returned. The deep, hollow toned voice echoed in people's heads, without making an actual sound. "Oh there is always one person looking to rain on your parade..." Everyone scattered to get away from Occult, but Lance just turned to face him. Occult manifested in his usual form- a tiny lop-eared rabbit. Its fur black and its eyes blood red. "The crystal is made of Melasite- the only mineral known to repulse magic, or any form of energy it makes contact with. Between the rings and crystal it created a void of energy, so I open it to the surroundings to act as a magic vacuum and as soon as the spell touches the crystal it gets scattered as ambient mana again." "Well, maybe I should turn you into a sheep instead. Mmm, but you upset me by so quickly unraveling my work too, so perhaps sheep is too tame. You know, I haven't done an invertebrate in a long while- how does a snail sound?" "You're welcome to try, you damnable pest. As long as I have this ward, I am immune to all things magical, and I can save anyone else around me too. The crystal is powered off of a lack of energy, so it will literally never run out of 'power'." Occult let out a single, hollow chuckle as it fell into its own shadow as if it were a hole in the ground. The shadow then collapsed in on itself and blinked out of existence. Though everyone in the area was silent and watching from a considerable distance in fear, Lance felt confident he had driven the wretch off. Lance had been working for some time to engineer this ward to fight back against Occult. Not all magic is a pain though. Lance's crush Quinn actually came to him with a proposition that involved magic of a... kinkier kind. The two had been getting close lately but Lance had yet to develop the spine to ask her out on an actual date. Now it would seem Quinn made the first move- she had revealed to him she had a wet dream a few nights before. She was embarrassed in telling Lance all this out of the blue, but it had been eating away at her. The dream was unusual- she had been taken by a strange creature in it. Had someone described the creature to her she would have thought it some hideous abomination, but on seeing it in her dream she found herself wildly attracted to it. She had been thinking about it ever since, slowly deducing why she was attracted to it one feature at a time. The dream had been vivid and hot, but ended before climax as she had woken herself up pleasuring herself while she slept. As time went on the dream faded to a memory and she became increasingly frustrated wishing she could revisit it, but had no control over what she dreams. With enough research one can control what a person looks like however. Obsessed with making her dream a reality, Quinn gathered several transformative spells and had to ask around in order to discern which runes represented which features so she could splice together her own custom spell from a multitude of animals. She leaned forward, giving Lance her best puppy dog eyes. "So... I know his is crazy, and I probably sound like a huge pervert but..." "No! I mean yes I will do it, but no you don't look like a pervert. People have needs sometimes, no shame in that, and I do really like you, so no harm done!" "I didn't think I would be into any of this stuff, which is all the more reason for me to be so obsessed with this. It is like I discovered a whole different side of myself. It was confusing at first, but when I thought of each feature individually it started to make sense." She took a deep breath as Lance sat on the chair in her living room. "I also want to stress... I am NOT into animals, of any sort. These features are all animal, but I am not attracted to the animal they come from. It is hard to explain..." Lance chuckled. "It's okay. Hit me with it!" Quinn nervously sat on the floor between the living room and kitchen area since it was not divided by a wall. She did not sit in a chair because she needed room to lay out several tomes. She pulled her custom spells from papers she had used as bookmarks in the tomes she had originally referenced, and then another tome with reversal spells ready if she goofed anything up. The heat already gathered in her loins just at the thought that this was happening. Someone was willing to let her turn them into a living wet dream! Lance was voluntarily demoting himself from boyfriend to pet essentially, at least for a little while. Quinn activated the spell, touching and illuminating a rune, and then slowly tracing the spell array- turning the black ink into a white-gold glow in the wake of her touch. Lance felt the magic enter his body as a very subtle wave- like the feeling of passing through the surface of a liquid. Then in a brief pulse his skin shivered and tensed, then his muscles flinched and finally his bones had a burst of pressure, as the spell saturated to his core. The bones in Lance's arms felt stiff and started to let off very muffled, dull cracking sounds as they expanded, making his arms longer. He felt the same thing in his neck, though because his throat was right against it, it sounded even more hollow. When he opened his mouth to groan the pops of his bones echoed loudly in the room, escaping through his mouth. His rib cage expanded a bit in size, and then in depth, causing it to be more round. This pushed his arms more to the side over the steeper curvature, forcing his shoulders to then shuffle a bit. His shoulder blades moved a bit forward and then up, shifting the socket forward and up, putting his arms naturally a bit higher up. He assumed she was making him bigger and taller, but he was increasingly less certain of that when he noted his hips and legs did not alter at all, only his upper body. His arms were also not gaining in size, only length, which made them look increasingly more narrow. The relaxed position of Lance's fingers was increasingly more bunched up. He could divide his digits, but the bones clicked when he tried- not sitting right. It became increasingly hard to move his fingers, and quickly enough he could not move them at all as the joints grew large enough that the bone segments started to grow together, removing joints entirely from existence. His nails got thicker and turned translucent grey, then solid grey, then dark grey and finally black. Five digits became only two. While the huge keratin claws expanded massively, they did not grow back to encapsulate his two fingers- it was not a pair of hooves. Though the skin toughened on his now much more narrow palms, he still had palms. Lance may have been able to identify them better had his view not become increasingly distant. His neck had not stopped extending! One new vertebrae after another, each one filled in over the course of a few seconds followed by a sudden and loud pop and shift as space was made for the next. Since these changes were happening at the same time they were part of the same set, so if he could identify the claws he could figure out what both these changes belonged to. He started to grow fur next. It grew on his wrists, then forearms, then his upper back and chest, wrapping around and travelling up to his neck and up it, even as it continued to get longer. The fur started to curl tightly, forming a wool like layer on him, though it was brown in color like his hair is. With how curly and dense the fur was he would have guessed sheep... except sheep don't have long necks or clawed feet. The changes seemed to pause here, leaving him to puzzle over what he was still. Quinn dashed over and took his clawed digits in her hands, smiling at them. "Oooh, cute! And your fur is so soft and bouncy! Alpaca features!" Lance was going to comment on it but instead all that came out was a groan as a pressure surged in his lower body now- the next feature had begun. Then a shiver traveled up his back and seemed to collect into a tingle in his ears and nose! Quinn was no longer directly activating the runes so the activation was travelling outward on its own- causing both the former and the following runes to activate at the same time as the mana expanded around the array, since it was shaped like a circle. It felt like someone was tugging on his ears firmly even though nothing was actually touching them- but rather than be mildly annoying it felt really quite good. Like stretching your legs after sitting for a long time, muscles that had not even existed before were being flexed in the base of his ears now! His ass and thighs expanded greatly, in overall size as well as girth. His pants quickly filled to capacity and Quinn quickly went to take them off for him, but only managed to get the top button open. His pants had three buttons closing them in the front, she opened the top one and the other two exploded off from the force of his expanding lower half surging forward in release. The pants were too tight already, she could not get her fingers between the pants and him to be able to pull them down even with the fly wide open down. One of the discharged buttons got lost down her cleavage but she was far too distracted watching his changes to bother pulling it back out. His shirt was very tight now too, but it wasn't tight enough to strangle him, it just compacted his wooly alpaca fur down. Lance's pants on the other hand were groaning in pain as they squished his skin down hard struggling to fit. More and more of his ass was exposed as the cheeks became far too large to contain. The entire pant legs were strangling him too, not just the top, which meant his lower legs were strangely expanding huge and thick too! His jaw ached a bit as Lance groaned in discomfort at his overtaxed pants. With only two clawed fingers he could not even attempt to grip and remove them himself, and because his shoulders had re-set higher up, he would have trouble even reaching down to his legs now in the first place. His ears expanded massively, getting longer at three times the rate they expanded overall. His front teeth started to groan with a sound a bit like two sheets of glass being ground together- though too subtle to be heard outwardly by anyone else. The bottom row of teeth expanded only a bit, the top massively- and the growth tapered off just behind his canine teeth, so the back teeth were completely unaffected. Their growth of course needed room and thus forced his entire face to stretch out a bit. As his face stretched the cartilage in his nose popped loudly and the bridge of his nose expanded greatly in width, and then stretched along with his face. His nose and stretched face lost definition from one another, fusing into a short, incomplete muzzle. His feet were bloating up by now, making his lower body feel like it was a flesh balloon. What sort of animal had fat FEET? Lance's balance was forced forward as the bottom of his feet swelled out and pressed on the ground. He rose forward on his toes further and further, till the bottom of his feet was squished against the ground at equal level and pressure as the very ends of his toes. The nails expanded greatly as if to form hooves, but never turned black, and because his entire foot swelled up huge the toes were unable to fuse together- if anything they were further apart than ever! Lance bent down a bit and the moment he moved the waist of his pants finally gave out, and his giant ass cheeks ripped the back of his pants wide open. Lance felt a pressure in his skin and muscle, and what was almost a rumbling in his bones, as if the change had been building up in wait of the pants giving out. The growth increased and also surged up into his torso! The rip in his pants branched down either thigh and finally all the way down the legs, splitting the entire pair of pants into two halves before it finally fell free! He really regrets wearing jeans. His lower half was so large when he stumbled a bit his footsteps actually shook the floor a bit. Quinn put her small hands on his chest to help steady him to remain standing. She slipped them up under his shirt a moment later so she could squeeze his soft fur between her fingers. Lance looked down at his legs as his ears finished growing, nearly two feet long each, huge elven ears of a jackass. His legs however were an unusual type of hoof- he only knew of three animals with legs like that, and given the size of them he assumed them to be those of an elephant! It would also explain the discoloration of his skin. Now free of pants, his skin looking pale was thought to simply being because his pants was strangling the blood flow, but the skin did not gain back its golden hue once freed. Instead it turned from pale to greyish, thickening greatly to the durable hide of a pachyderm. "Whaaah- oh!" He surprised himself with the sound of his voice, deeper and with a bit of resonance to it that made it hard to control. "Why these ch-haaaw- changes?" "No hands because I want you to be dependent on me, and big clumsy feet so you can't get away~!" Like an elephant, he was able to stand on two legs but not well and not for long- and he certainly cannot walk on two. The fading pressure of growth gathered up his colossal butt and gathered into his tail bone, becoming a sharper more tingly feeling as it went. The feeling exploded along with a burst of fur from his tail bone, forming into the triangular tuft of a tail of a white-tail deer! Small and cute, but also expressive. The white underside of the tail is a flag used by their kind. She gently look her hands away and slipped to the side as he started to teeter, letting him drop to all fours. "Oooh- aaaaw! Iheheit's chaaanging meeeeh face ma--HOre!" The reverberation in his voice was getting even stronger. He reached up to scratch his chin, his stubble was growing rapidly, but without hands he had to rub his chin with what was essentially the one and only knuckle of his hoof. His facial hair did not grow in equal parts. The hair on his chin increased in length greatly, but remained fairly short as it followed his chin and connected to his hair, and then his face started to click and crack as it stretched still further. Two pale spots formed on the skin of his forehead before the advance of hair covered it. The blood drained from those two spots to prepare just before two small horns popped out. They were ivory white when they emerged, but as they continued to grow, exposure to the air turned them slightly yellow and then as they developed further and started to become heavily ribbed on the forward facing side, they turned grey. The long backward curved horns of a mountain goat! He also had the beard of a goat, and though he could not see nor feel the change his pupils were now horizontal rectangles like a goat too. The final of this particular set of changes was his face becoming a full muzzle and the middle section of his long ears became wider, and the ears harder to hold up, causing him to droop a bit, sticking further out sideways because of the weight. As his muzzle fully formed, it expanded to the point where it forced his eyes apart, to the sides of his head to make room. Even with his face fully expanded, his asinine teeth still did not fit properly, giving him considerable overbite. Quinn explained that on most it would look goofy, but on his form it simply made him look cute. Between the reverberation of a goat's bleating and the brays of a donkey, Lance could barely speak English still. It was mostly just a strange amalgamation of animal noises with the vague semblance of human words. Quinn held his large head with her small hands and gently rubbed the sides of his muzzle as a pressure built up in him again. Her giddy grin was enough to soothe him as she looked into his eyes as two more changes hit, though both in relatively the same area. His skull expanded and his neck thickened a bit to continue to support it well. His muzzle remained mostly the same size, causing his face to be more triangular, increasing the degree of the slope from forehead to nose. Subtle veins could be seen under the fine fur of the face, making his face almost seem muscular. The end of Lance's nose turned pink and the exposed skin on his nostrils expanded, becoming textured and moist. She had added the handsome facial structure of a bull, and this also lessened his overbite considerably, since the end of his nose and muzzle were slightly longer- you could still see a little bit of his front top teeth exposed. The other change that erupted in him started at his hair which had remained human, and fired down his neck. The fur straightened and grew longer as if trying to match the human hair. It got longer toward the middle, but because his neck was so long, this meant that it was extremely long by the time it reached the middle! His long neck was buried in a gigantic dark brown lion mane! It looked even floofier in the front, but that was just because of the weight of all that hair pulling forward and down, it was actually the same length all the way around. Quinn fully buried her face and hands in his mane! There was a long pause that made Lance think they were done, and Quinn used the time to enjoy his floofy mane. It was not done however- she had placed several innate runes in the array to act as a sort of timer- dividing the most important changes from the rest so that they were guaranteed to happen last. When Quinn heard him let out a strange little bleat she knew the magic had started up again and moved around behind him, telling him to be still. Though his butt remained the same color, the softer skin of his anus started to darken to complete black and it started to puff up into a cute plush doughnut. Since he has no hands to wipe his butt in this form, she made sure to give him a horse's anus, since it is very efficient at being self-cleaned. The black coloration bled into his taint though and it swelled up larger as it darkened. The coloration and swelling hit his balls and Quinn's smile widened. His scrotum turned black and the long but sparse hairs on it fell out and its contents swelled larger, pulling the skin smooth. The change transitioned to another however, and his balls pulled the scrotum so smooth they looked shiny as the balls became absolutely massive! They were unable to hang away from his body at all, and Quinn had to help him pull the balls back between his legs, so their front curve rest on the back of his inner thighs, because they were too large and round to fit between his legs or he might crush them together when he walks! Luckily the scrotum was pulled so taught that they remained there all on their own once she let go- there wasn't enough slack in the skin to allow them to swing. As they grew the skin coloration also broke up. They turned completely black when the growth started, but the growth itself created neon pink cracks which expanded as they grew. Now the scrotum was pink with black patches. Pig testicles- because they have extremely long orgasms. Quinn darted around to his side and quickly took his half erect penis into her small dainty hand. His still fully human penis looked almost comically small on his now huge and animalistic body. The penis did not take long to erect itself in her grasp, but as soon as it was fully hard, the feeling of becoming erect just continued! He felt odd pulling at the base as if something had somehow grabbed the back end of his shaft and was trying to pull it back inside of him, while the shaft itself tried to leave him! The penis actually did not look like it was moving at all outwardly- what did move was the excess of skin forming at its base! The growth was the formation of a sheath! The huge pool of squishy soft skin doubled the girth of his dick and kept going! Quinn grabbed the edges and knead the soft skin in her hands, which only caused the changes to speed along. Eventually the nest of skin was so huge the penis could not be seen at all. Quinn pressed it up from below and the top fused with his underside. Then a huge pressure started up in his groin and the sheath started to widen, but the folds of skin were pulled straight as its contents were what grew now. He also started to thrust his hips involuntarily at sharp spikes of pleasure as he felt his prostate start to twitch and grow on its own, pressing up against everything else around it! Pre already started to trail out of the sheath opening before his gigantically swelling dick did a half second later. The glans now as big around as an ostrich egg, though still perfectly human shaped for now. The glans were smooth, red and large with blood pressure and the corona purple. As the shaft started to emerge though, it bent a bit back and forth from the sensations- now able to be moved around like a limb. The human toned flesh tapered off almost immediately behind the glans into a mottled grey and pink shaft. The shaft was almost as thick as his legs! By the time it was fully out, it was actually as long as his legs too- and since his dick hung lower than his legs started, it actually had enough to rest on the ground even when he was fully standing! Like the later half of his body, his shaft was that of an elephant's phallus! The pressure in the sheath was still increasing though! There was still a growing bulge in it! He was streaming precum almost constantly now as his dick twitched erratically. He shuffled around on his hands and hooves, trying to sit still like she told him but having a hard time with all these sensations. He brayed several times as the pleasure increased even more! His prostate was outgrowing everything and getting crushed from a complete and utter lack of room! His cock formed a perfect upward arch as the precum started to jet out at the force of a proper orgasm, even though his balls were still fully dormant. Because of the arch of his shaft, the spray of pre painted a stripe up his chest fur before splattering off onto the floor. His urethra started to stretch fatter and longer, rising from his human glans giving the end of his dick a point like a canine phallus! He felt the immense pressure inside of his sheath and further back from his mutated prostate, and it started to get shoved forward searching for more room. Quinn carefully grabbed his scrotum at the front and yanked it- being careful not to grab or hurt any of its contents. In a sudden rush the pressure exploded forward and his pelvic floor gave birth to his own prostate! His testicles were joined in the scrotum by his gigantic prostate now, slightly bigger than the testicles themselves, so his scrotum now had three spheres! The testicles rest just behind his legs, while the prostate was more between. Before Lance could even attempt to comprehend what just happened the other pressure also reached its max and was ejected because of a lack of space! His sheath let out a wet plopping sound as a dog knot erupted out of it, but sized up to his elephantine shaft! Each side of the knot was like a soccer ball! It also caused his shaft to get yanked even longer, and then locked in that overextended position because of the knot. Quinn gently ran her finger around the corona of his cock head- so big in comparison that she could barely cover the top of it with BOTH her hands. The corona looked like it was getting goose bumps for a moment, but the bumps started to look pale in comparison to the rest of it as they grew longer. They turned into tiny flesh barbs, and grew so greatly in number as Quinn tickled them that the corona was stretched outward. What had been a steep, smooth ridge was now a gradual slope covered in thousands of tiny barbs- to scratch those really deep itches. The domed front of the shaft still had the relative shape of human glans, though it was hard to notice since nothing else around it was human in form. Lance let out a series of bleats and grunts Quinn assumed was him asking if it was done, to which she assured him it was. With a giggle she grabbed the heavy sphere that was his prostate and pushed it up and back a bit and used her other arm to reach aaaaall the way over as far up the shaft as she could and ran her hand up- bending the barbs the other way briefly. Lance almost immediately brayed out in pleasure. His balls yanked upward, shoving into his prostate from the other side and pinning it between themselves and Quinn's hand as his giant cock erupted a pillar of hot sticky goo! While Lance was still catching his breath, Quinn was busy admiring his odd body, petting and kissing him all over before she giddily went to pick up all her tomes and papers, since she was done for now. A deep, hollow voice echoed in Lance's mind. *My, my. One is left to but wonder where such a tame girl like that got such an utterly kinky idea.* Lance spoke with his thoughts, knowing Occult could read them, and not being able to speak normally besides. *As long as Quinn is happy. I can just undo this any time I want anyway, so I don't know why you sound so pleased.* *Oh, yes, your little warding toy. And where is that? Oh right, you left it at home because it would have blocked her magic too. What was it that you told me before? Ah yes- you're welcome to try.* Lance tried to make a move for the door but only shuffled his feet a bit, hesitating. Occult chuckled. *I added a little something extra to her spell. You cannot deny her, and she wished you please her and be her pet for some time. Trying to leave would be against her will- thus the spell prevents you from doing so.* Lance turned toward the tomes she stacked on the end of the table before going to make them a lunch. He nudged the cover open with the end of his muzzle and started to flip through using the end of his tongue to get to the reversal spells. Occult hummed in thought. *And how do you plan to cast a reversal spell, exactly?* *What do you mean? The same way you cast any spell. You don't nessisarily needs hands for that.* *VERY true, the same way you cast any spell. With mana. It's a reversal SPELL, which means you need mana to expunge the previous spell, and OH would you look at that; Quinn's spell was so involved that it used up all of the local mana. You have nothing to cast a reversal with.* *M-mana renews itself over time. I just have to... wait a bit.* *Oh, sure. Oh and here is a fun fact for you- all the structures built within the last hundred years were built with magic dampeners within the walls for in the event that an enemy kingdom invades and attempts to employ magic as a weapon. Mana cannot flow through the walls of this structure. So unless she opens all of the windows and doors for a while, you are not changing back until she gets bored of you. And she reaaaally likes you in this form.* His hollow laughter thrummed in the dark. *Spoiler alert- I always get what I want.*

(F hyper curves / focused weight gain) Lydia once again had a stack of books beside her on the front desk of the library. Book returns go into the bin to be sorted through- these were not returns; these are the books she herself is currently poring over. Most misread her look of deep thought and concentration as the look of a stern librarian, so no one ever bothered her. Taking runes from various spellbooks, she would copy them in her own writing onto a separate page. Lydia has brown hair, but it is such a dark tone of brown that it looks black in most lighting- unless she spends a lot of time outside and lets the sun bleach it a lighter tone, but you will never find her outside. Her eyes are royal purple and always behind small rectangular reading glasses. She is wearing short heels, pantyhose, a form fit business skirt and dark grey business top over a looser white button up. Her bust is a mere B cup though her hips are rather wide. It is harder to notice with her glasses on, but her eyes are veeeerry slightly crossed- they lean toward one another slightly. Her mouth looks rather small on her face but her lips are quite pillowy and vibrant red even without lipstick. Her nails all painted black and her hair kept nearly combed perfectly straight to her shoulders, giving her a very mature look overall, even though she is only just turned 20. The library is not her own- she is a university student, but chose the job of campus librarian to occupy her free time. She gets paid for a part time job, and can also just sit there and do all her studying for classes, while at 'work'. No one ever actually talks to her, so she could do whatever she wants and no one would figure it out. She is so accustomed to libraries by now that sorting and returning the books to their proper places was child's play. The only thing she really needed to watch out for was people trying to practice magic in the library, or trying to pet the homunculus in the large terrarium at the back. This is an arcane library- naturally there are spell wards to prevent people from trying to practice in the presence of the books, so no one burns the place down... but Lydia has actually dropped the wards to do a little spell work of her own. Everyone else thinks they are still up, but they aren't; so if some idiot does try a spell in the library, it actually WILL work right now. Lydia's friend Candice wandered into the library as the afternoon rolled on. "Hey... teacher bailed so I got a random free period." Lydia raised a brow, though took a full second longer to actually look up from the page she was reading. "Last minute?" "Yea, his wife was giving birth- he ditched class to go to the hospital." "Ah, that makes sense." Candice looks female- and she was born fully female- but she is packing heat under her pants. She met Lydia after learning about her prowess with spell knowledge, seeking a change of her own. She had just come out about being lesbian and had Lydia use spells to transform her genitals completely to those of a male- while still keeping her overall appearance exactly like it's always been. Incidentally that is also when the two of them started dating. "So... whatcha doin'?" Lydia blushed. "Uhm..." She glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear them. She motioned around her chest. "Boobs!" Now Candice blushed. "What? But I thought the library didn't have any spells like that! You said before that the school library banned any books on spells of a lewd nature... you had to special order the book you used to give me my meatstick." "Oh yea- it definitely doesn't have any spells like that... buuuut, it does have lots of other spells. I figure if I take a bit from here and there I could slap together my own boob spell! No more tiny tits!" "That... sounds dangerous." "Nothing ventured, nothing gained~. Look-" Lydia pointed to several books, laying them out so Candice could see them- though upside down. The visible portion of a breast is almost entirely fat- the actual mammary glands do not really project out from the chest. She instead used a fat expansion spell! In times of famine, fat expansion spells were often used to replace food- growing the fat stores that are already present in the body so the body can sort of feed off of itself for a while without needing more food. Lydia needed to focus fire it into the chest however- and she had no spell for that. She slapped together some runes she THINKS will help focus it to her chest, but whether they work is yet to be seen. The other issue is her skin- the outer tissue. If only the fat grew and nothing else; her breasts would become extremely amorphous and be flopping around in her lap even when standing up. Not exactly the perfect image. She cross-referenced muscle restoration spells from a medical magics book and then applied what she learned from the expansion part of her fat expansion spell to make a muscle expansion spell, and weave it into the fat expansion one, so the two would be linked. That way the muscle tissue holding the fat to the outer skin will always have the same ratio she already has now, no matter how much bigger the fat portion gets. The skin elasticity spell also came from cobbling together spells from a medical book- for people regenerating lost skin from a wound, and needing it to act more like normal skin rather than the much less elastic scar tissue. Candice shook her head with a smile on her face, watching Lydia finish her spell array. Most people don't bother her thinking she is a stern over-serious librarian, always busy at work... when in reality she is a horny lil perv splicing together spells like a mad scientist so grow her tits. And disabled the library's normal defenses to do it at work, at that! Lydia took her spell stone ring and page of untested runes and dashed to the history section, where virtually no one ever went. There was currently only three other people in the entire library- middle of the afternoon on a week day, this isn't making anyone's list of top locations. Candice was going to ask why she wouldn't just wait till she got home but remembered she lives in the on-site dorms, with about two or three feet of space between her and her dorm mate. Candice lived nearby so whenever they wanted to make out- they took it to her place. The spell stone in the small silver ring she had is just crystalized mana- energy condensed to the point where it acts like a physical object without having any set atomic structure; which technically makes it metaphysical. But it allows you to still cast spells even if there isn't any ambient mana in the area. Candice was more paranoid of them being seen than Lydia was- she simply walked to the far end of the isle and activated the spell without even checking if the coast was clear. Lydia perked up and her body became a bit stiff as she felt the magic enter her as a soft, subtle tingle all through her body. The tingle faded in some areas faster than others though- it lingered the longest in her chest, butt, and upper legs. Lydia moaned suddenly and grabbed her butt through her skirt at an odd feeling of pleasure. It felt like a sexual pleasure but rather than be powerful and focused it was diffused and spread out across almost her entire hip- ironically almost everywhere except her actual genitals. Her nipples tingled as well, but they were obviously a much smaller area for the feeling to exist in. Though the pleasure is not at all sharp, it also does not let up, causing her to squirm from it. Her nipples fattened and firmed up and her breasts felt an oddly comfortable tightness as internal pressure tested the skin. More outwardly noticeable however is her skirt pulled very tight and her butt ballooned up! Candice looked at her with a mesmerized expression. "W- you... it was supposed to be breast right? Not breast and butt?" Lydia's voice was oddly higher pitched because the pleasure was making her tense up involuntarily. "Ah... hi.. it is fat expansion, and I guess my genes REALLY do not want boobs. The spell is expanding my fat mass and I feel... something... in my boobs but... because of how my body distrib-ah- distributes its fat stores... my ass is robbing my tits." Because of the smooth cloth confines squeezing her fat cheeks tighter and tighter, it felt like she was a too-full balloon about to pop! Lydia wobbled for a second as the feeling started to shift downward and she turned her knees inward as her thighs started to swell up meatier! After a few more moments the spell faded and she had to catch her breath. Candice smiled a bit nervously. "That skirt is so tight; if you bump into the corner of a table it will just explode off you." "Ah... yea. Oh... hrmm. It kinda feels good but my boobs are only slightly bigger! My nipples seem to be stuck erect." She glanced at them but could not see the bulge of her nipples through both her tops- she certainly felt them trying to rub holes through the fabric. "My spell is designed to focus on my breasts, so my body must REALLY be leaning the other way for it to still do this. But, that means with each successive cast it becomes less likely my body can resist the imposed flow!" "Wait, you are just going to do it again?!" "Well yea, I want my fat titties! My genes can go fuck themselves, gimmie my boobs!" Lydia immediately cast the spell again, and this time the effects were even more sudden! Her butt and thighs both surged at the same time causing her skirt to groan loudly. Her now ill-fit panties wedged themselves tightly into her labia as her butt yanked back on them. Lydia backed herself up against the wall quickly to brace herself on it. She felt her breasts press against her bra and the point of most resistance spread larger and larger as the cups filled and then overflowed! Her small bra cups started to lose control of the breasts within, causing them to billow up around the edges! Lydia bowed forward with a soft cry in pain as the waist of the skirt started to really cut into her hips, but in bending over the too-tight fabric burst and a triangular shaped rip formed between the body of the skirt and waistband. She sighed in brief relief but the moment she relaxed the effects of the spell sped up! The rip started to advance down the back of the skirt making the material groan loudly in defeat. Her soft butt flesh started to squeeze up through the growing gap and billow out like a baking muffin. Lydia's heels suddenly broke from her increased weight, causing her to stumble back fully against the wall to catch herself and the quick movement caused the waistband of the skirt to pop! The relief was immediate, though her thickening thighs still grabbed onto the connected fabric of the body of the skirt to continue the slow progression of the first rip. What remained of the skirt was grabbing her thighs- her ass now fully billowed out over the back, contained in too-small panties. Candice nodded toward the pink lace panties. "Oddly fancy." "Well I was planning to show off my enhanced goods for you at some point today." Her butt cheeks are now incredibly round and big, wobbling around with every movement she makes! Her thighs are also almost as wide as her actual torso, making her overall legs look almost cone shaped because of how big they are at the top but still narrow at the bottom. Lydia let out a giddy squeak at the sound of a plastic snapping as her bra clasp cracked in half! Her two layers of tops billowed out suddenly as the tight pressure in her sundered bra was released! Her bra clasp was in the front, so the cups were shoved to the sides as her breasts billowed forward and spread against the inside of her button up. Her smile faded to a look of frustration though when her changes stopped almost immediately after that. Candice nodded with her arms crossed, looking like she was appreciating a fine painting. "Well, you did it. You have breasts now!" "Well...yea, but they are only like, what, DDs?" "That's my cup size!" "I know! They look great, but I mean, I am trying to magically enhance them... y'know? It is like when I gave you a cock; why settle for average? You already have a magic in use that you could use to make it perfect." Candice pointed to her enhanced lower half. "But, you're huge in other places already." "But it should balance out more each time, so it will be more breast and less butt." "But not no butt." "Well no, not no butt but no more butt than boob." Candice blinked in confusion from her wording. "Exactly!" Her pantyhose still squished her meaty thighs and butt in place since its made of an extremely elastic material. When Lydia activated the spell for a third time, holes started to stretch through it toward the top where she was the largest and her supple flesh started to billow out, forming soft bubbles of jiggly skin. Her panties vanished into both her butt crack and between her labia as it pulled even tighter and started to groan from pressure. Her breasts squeezed their soft flesh into every last bit of space in her shirt and started to make it hard to breathe because her ribs were being compressed! Her overshirt only had two buttons and the first one popped so suddenly it launched over Candice's shoulder like a bullet, causing her to duck in surprise! Having so much soft skin squished into such a relatively tiny outfit made Lydia feel like a human marshmallow. The second button on her top burst off and the overshirt was flicked aside as the looser white button up below billowed forward- the extra fabric pulling up and causing her breasts to sit unusually high on her chest because of how the fabric tension held them. Each boob the size of a medicine ball at least now. Candice seen her reach toward the ring resting on the page about to activate the spell again before the third dose even finished! Lydia knew her proportions were getting insane but she wanted giant boobs for so long, she cannot be reasoned with. She would endure a little bit extra elsewhere as long as she gets her boobs! Candice went to grab it before she could but Lydia was much closer to begin with and still activated it- but in her haste to beat Candice to the punch, she wobbled and fell on top of her! The holes in her pantyhose started to connect to one another and tear wider, making her thighs jiggle automatically as the pressure released them from their prison bit by bit. She sat up off poor Candice so she would not accidentally smother her lover, though her meaty thighs and giant ass basically eclipsed her entire lower half still. The blushed even further when she felt the hard rod in Candice's pants. "Want some help with that? Seems your clothes are getting pressurized too~" "W-wah! What... we are in the library!" "Hehe~" Lydia undid her pants and her own panties immediately sprang out through the opening fly, tented by her huge boner. When she pulled them off the nine inch cock *twacked* loudly against Candice's belly. Lydia groaned from the pressure a moment before the middle button burst and a diamond shaped cleavage window was created on her top, then the next button down quickly after that, causing her breasts to jostle around wildly in the top! She tried to slip off her own but found the fabric was squished so tightly against her ballooning flesh that she could not pry her finger under it to pull it away or down! She ended up pinching it and then digging her nail in to rip it- as soon as a small rip formed the internal pressure caused it to completely explode off her and slingshot down the isle of old books! Lydia let out a breathless 'uh oh' when she seen other parts of her body start to fatten! Her outer labia and pubic mound swelled up, billowing further from her torso to become a huge plump peach! Then the love handles on her sides became pronounced and her belly started to soften and rise forward! Her belly button deepened steadily! Lydia swallowed Candice's cock into her now massive pussy and rode the comparatively tiny woman on the soft sound-deafening carpet of the library. With every up and down the plush skin on Lydia lagged behind the rest of her, causing a soft jiggly ripple through her like a wave on the ocean! Her butt cheeks wobbled like the surface of a waterbed! Her thighs were gigantically fat too, but the skin on them was pulled tighter, allowing them to hold their form better so they were more jiggly than wobbly. She started to look pregnant and her belly helped pop the lowest button off the top, before it ballooned far enough to start losing its structural integrity and became still softer. A fold started to form across the mid-point of her belly, swallowing her belly button into the middle of it. Even her glossy ruby lips started to look bigger and fatter! Her breasts popped another button, then another! There was only the second last button and the top two left; and the very top button wasn't done up in the first place. Her pantyhose only existed around her knees and below- the entire top containing her thighs shred itself. Lydia's giant boobs clapped their bare bottoms against her growing belly loudly. Her overall body became too heavy for her to lift up and down to ride Candice's cock, so she flopped forward and rest herself on top of Candice so she only had to lift her hips up and down. She could only just barely see Candice's blushing face over her own cleavage! Even her lower back started to look softer as the fat bloated curvature of her butt cheeks started to trail upward! Her arms started to look slightly pudgy, and then her neck. The bottom button on her top finally ripped free, causing her soft breasts to slosh downward suddenly, then spring back up and tear off the top button! Her shirt flung open, and her breasts rolled free, smothering Candice a moment! Lydia sat back up to avoid suffocating Candice, and the movement of her rocking back while impaled on her cock, caused Candice to orgasm! The giant fat titties clapped together and went into a jiggling fit from her sitting up. Lydia cooed and smiled at the feeling of the hard rod pulsing wildly in her large pussy. Lydia needed a hand getting to her feet afterwards- seeing even her lower legs now looked pudgy. It stopped now though. Candice hugged her, squishing her face into her cleavage while pressing her own breasts up against the big soft belly. Lydia's boobs were so large and fat now that the only way to get deep enough into the cleavage to hug her properly was to flop them over either shoulder. Her areola had been solid edged, but in stretching out so large they were now a soft fade. Her nipples were huge compared to before too, but in comparison to the rest of the breast it looked like they had only gotten a bit thicker. Her glasses were even a bit fogged up from her heavy breathing from the sex. Her hair was the only thing still proper, everything else was disheveled or destroyed. Lydia pant from arousal still, gently swaying her hips to feel her own soft flesh wobble around. "It feels so goooood ooh... I don't want to do anything elsssse, I just wanna sit here and wobble!" It was like her entire body was surrounded by warm water balloons! "R-right, but you have a plan to turn back, right?! You're naked in the school library and couldn't fit into clothes even if you didn't destroy them." "Oh... yea. Uhm... you're going to need to sneak me off-campus and let me borrow some of your clothes." "Uuugh, how did I know you didn't think any of this through?!" "Sure I did! I will just reactivate the spell wards on the library. That should dispel any active magic in it and prevent any other spells from being cast. Which means as soon as I turn it back on- I automatically revert to normal. And now I know the spell works... well, mostly works- I can use it whenever we wanna play with marshmallow-Lydia, haha." Lydia lead Candice further into the library, toward a back corner no one ever visited. There is a large stone archway leading down long stairs into a basement level where rare books are held, as well as where the spell ward is kept. There is a large pink-hued salt crystal ensconced on either side of the door to ward the books from any airborne moisture. Lydia slowed her walk as she approached it though. "Ooh... I feel a bit odd..." There was a soft, muffled squelching sound and then the subtle noise of stretching tissue. Lydia looked surprised at a hand she lifted and seen her fingers starting to look pudgy! She quickly told Candice the spell was reactivated- someone else must have found the ring and spell on the floor where they left it and used it, wondering what it is! She is still the target of the spell, so the person using it might be spam-casting it trying to see what it does, because its effects are on Lydia who they cannot see! Candice quickly left Lydia to find the person and spell page to stop them. Lydia tried her best to get down into the basement- activating the ward will cut all spell effects and future casts... but moving was getting even harder now. Her thighs were so meaty at this point that even putting her legs as far apart as she can while still walking, they would still rub together. Lydia ended up leaning heavily on one wall as she went down the stairs so she would not trip down the long flight of stairs instead, but slowly she could feel her other thigh brushing against the opposite wall more and more! All that fat stuffed into her butt cheeks made her fight an inner desire to sit on the stairs just to feel it press into her soft cheeks. A heat started to inhabit the cheeks on her face too, but it wasn't from blushing. The fat was starting to take even her face, very slowly making it look softer. Her tummy gurgled loudly and ballooned out further, lifting her tits from below- but they were also growing so her stomach ended up blocking her vision with her own flesh! Lydia could only look at the sloping roof or her own shelf of soft cleavage- her body eclipsed the view of the stairs entirely- she could not even see the steps that were much further down; she could not see ANY. Even the sides of her fat tits were rubbing both walls at the same time before her hips started to smoosh so hard against them that she could not progress any further! She would jump completely off one step and then slowly slide down to the one below- her feet not actually touching anything for a few seconds; being held up by her own skin against the stone walls! Candice dashed down the stairs behind her so fast she almost toppled herself- she had the spellstone ring on one hand and the spell page folded up in her pants pocket. She tried to pass it off as if nothing were happening since the person who found it shouldn't know about the ward being removed. Unfortunately he had cast it multiple times thinking he had done it wrong the first few, before Candice stopped him... so while no one was using the spell currently- Lydia was still bloating. "I am... stuck. Ooh it's like my own body is hugging me. I'm sooo soft and warm...aaah. Okay, Candice I need you to give me a powerful slap from behind!" Candice slapped her ass hard, doing as she was told before actually thinking about it. Her brows lowered at Lydia moaning in pleasure; realizing Lydia told her to do that because she wanted someone to slap her ass- not to actually help the situation at all. Either of Lydia's asscheeks were big enough to cover Candice's torso at this point! Each tit big enough to smoosh out over her entire body. Candice knew they were in big trouble if they did not get the ward fast. If she cannot move from here she might suffocate in her own rolls of flesh- and if she is stuck in the stairs that means no one else can get to the ward either because he is blocking the only way down! Now her arms and fingers were fat- her digits looking like little sausages! Her neck is thickening and her cheeks rounding out. Candice knew it was dangerous, but not more dangerous than the alternative- she went up three steps and then jumped into Lydia from behind, slamming her full body weight into the swelling woman and popped her loose momentarily! The added momentum was enough to force her down the remainder of the stairs- though she still fell in slow motion, dragging against both walls the whole way. Lydia landed softly on her own extremely padded butt, wobbling on a mattress of her own plush ass. Still her thighs swelled wider, making her entire leg just a gigantic cone, leading into her massive icecream scoop shaped butt cheeks. Her round midriff now hung out halfway across her thighs, so she was incapable of leaning any further forward- an upright sit is as far forward as her torso could bend with all the fat buildup! Her gigantic boobs now each as big as her entire body used to be flopped to either side of her belly and touched the floor on either side even though she is sitting up! Even her areola were as wide as a person's entire head- her nipples vanished entirely. The areola and surrounding flesh became so bloated and fat that her nipples inverted and were swallowed entirely. It looked like she was puffing out her cheeks- but that is just how they are shaped now. Her neck inflated under her head into three large, extremely soft folds- a quad-chin. Her little rectangular glasses were fogged up completely now, so she couldn't see a damn thing. She looked almost delirious in pleasure and bizarre comfort as her body continued to blow up like a balloon. So much fat was being created so quickly that it made clearly audible, liquidy, sloshing sounds. Her gigantic thighs started to spread across the floor, her ass formed a twin mountain behind her and she straddled the sides of her boobs sitting on either side of her as they rounded out, bigger and bigger. Candice knew Lydia was in no shape to do it herself, so she looked for the ward and dashed around her bloating lover to get to it. She had never used one before so she had to look at the various runes on the several un-aligned rings and piece together how it is supposed to be with what little magic she knew herself. Lydia's belly became so big and soft that it shoved against her swelling thighs enough to force her entire body back into a laying position to make room- but her butt is so large that it forced her into an awkward angle, causing her gigantic breasts to roll up her chest and fall over either of her shoulders- now sitting on either side of her head. Their round curves bloated so far out that all Lydia could see is a thin strip of the roof through the valley of her own cleavage her head now sat in! She spread her legs to give her thighs room- her fat expanding so far that it was slowly forcing her to spread all her limbs, but it also revealed her pubic mound was so plump now that it formed an entirely separate sphere from her torso! You'd need a nine inch cock just to get to her actual vaginal opening behind the fat outer labia, never mind actually penetrate her! All Lydia could do now is rock back and forth and bounce on a sea of her own soft mass, swallowed into her own marshmallow-like flesh. Because her spell grew the muscle and flesh with the fat she never really developed dimples or many folds, making her look very round, and making her mass very bouncy and rubbery- though still extremely soft for how far it projected off any of her skeletal structure. Candice almost had a heart attack thinking she maybe did something wrong when Lydia started to squirm and cry out in surprise! Her limbs wobbled back and forth frantically, unable to actually reach anything. Her entire body filled with an electrical tingle as the spell ward went up! Her voice as she cried out raised in pitch till it rivaled a dog whistle, then in a sudden burst all her extra mass exploded off of her as a giant cloud of thick colored vapor! Her old body fell to the floor, and she remained shuddering violently for a few seconds, her face so red it looked like she was going to burst a vein, and then in one last cry she squirt pussy juice across the floor and exploded into orgasm from all the sensations the sudden dispel forced into her! Candice breathed a sigh of relief- she did it right. The library spellward is once again active, which forced Lydia's spell to cancel. Lydia sat naked on the stone floor for some time, breathing heavily. Even her broken heeled shoes popped off going down the stairs- her feet became to portly they burst what was left of the shoe off. She had remnant scraps of what used to be her pantyhose around her lower legs, now stretched so far out of proportion and so ripped that they are basically rags. All her other clothes destroyed and upstairs. Her glasses fogged over and her hair all disheveled now, and somehow she still looked adorable even in this state. Lydia slowly turned to Candice with a goofy, tired smile. "I am going to be having wet dreams about that for weeeeeeks."

Choosing to go on the front row was absolutely a deliberate choice. The rest of the class had no choice but to sit there and stare at what was probably the biggest display of size and voluptuousness that most of them had ever seen in their lives, even accounting for the older students who had veered their midlife crisis towards getting a new degree, maybe try out something new. All of them, every single one, found something novel in what was happening on the bottom, front row of the auditorium, so much so that even their lecturer was barely able to keep his concentration, oftentimes having to pause in between sentences just to wrench his eyes away from what he was seeing. It was a bird… or rather, many birds, or perhaps the same bird several times over, no one was quite sure; all anyone knew was that, just minutes before the first class of the year started, their university experience was enriched by the sudden and inexplicable appearance of Rika (or Rikas?), the similar-looking group walking down the hallway and quite literally filling it with so many curves and bouncy, jiggling flesh that even those who had no interest in such things on a regular basis had to look and stare. How couldn’t they when all of the avians all had a butt so plush they almost got stuck in the door, a bust large enough they had to squish it through, not to mention a very obvious bulge that none of them even attempted to hide. It was every curvaceous stereotype rolled into one and multiplied over ten identical bodies; how could they not stare? At least the Rikas remained respectful of the rules of basic courtesy, even if they were obviously dressing to show off their curves, given the impossibly low necklines of their shirts exposing an indecent amount of cleavage, and the short shorts that barely covered half of their colossal asscheeks; despite this, they all sat quietly on the front, listening intently to every stuttered word, every stammered phrase, every interrupted simile or metaphor that their lecturer attempted and inevitably veered back to something about breasts. It was like a spell had been cast over the poor man, who had been expecting a first day like many others in his career; sure, hypers were a fact of life, but one that he’d had plenty of time to get used to. The canine remembered the old days, when he was first starting and had a heaping load of trouble ignoring the swollen bellies and inflated assets, when the sight of all that moving flesh made him feel like he needed looser pants… but he got used to it. Nowadays, a hyper student, though rare, didn’t even register with him, and it wouldn’t be the first time he had a prolonged conversation with one without realizing he was staring at a pair of tits bigger than most of his body. Rika though, was… different. A hyper student he could endure, two, three maybe, without it being anything different. But the birds were ten, all sitting there, right in front of him, dressed to show off as much of their bodies as they could get away with, looking as if their supposed politeness and adherence to the rules was just a sham, a plot to get him to lower his guard so they could jump his bones at the earliest convenience. It wore him down to the point where he was sweating so profusely he felt like he needed a snorkel, and the only thing that let him feel slightly less embarrassed was that everyone else in the room was reacting in pretty much the same way. The Rikas, however, seemed blissfully unaware of the effect they were having on their colleagues and potential friends, at least judging from their innocent smiles and the way they had their hands crossed over their laps. It was all an act; deep down the group knew exactly how much of an impact their collective forms were having on everyone around them, but playing up the innocence angle and seeing how far they could take it was, frankly, part of the experience. The original Rika had decided to make her first day of university be the most memorable one of all, and thus creating ten clones of herself, something that was nothing if not perfectly normal for her, was only the first step in a plan she had devised; one that would either get them expelled, or stun the faculty so much they wouldn’t know what to do with her… hopefully the latter. It started off innocently enough, with a couple of nudges here and there, maybe even some light patting disguised as an attempt to get something off their bodies, all while everyone else behind them was all-but forced to watch. The curvaceous avians’ bodies were so sensitive to the touch that even the lightest of brushes caused noticeable swaying in their busts or butts, their skin and flesh so soft that if they wanted to, they could sink their hands into their tits up to their wrist, all while stifling a few unashamedly loud moans. The outward displays of affection picked up in intensity until they reached a point that even the lust-addled lecturer couldn’t ignore, though by that point all he could manage was a meek, barely audible “P-Please stop that, thank you,” that either went unheard by the Rikas or just ignored outright. Thankfully for everyone involved, the class was ending soon… not-so-thankfully, the group of birds immediately got up and crowded both sets of stairs leading to the exit, forcing everyone else to wait in their and watch as they made a show of not fitting through the doors properly. Not… fitting through the doors. The more perceptive among the regular students immediately picked up on what this meant, while the rest were content with assuming it was just another part of their obvious act. Truth was, the Rikas had allowed their bodies to fill out just enough during their class that actually getting out of the room had turned into a genuine engineering problem; the process had been so gradual that no one picked up on the growth until it was on full display, with tits that refused to squish through the tight openings or rears that got stuck just as they were about to go through. It certainly didn’t help that the “solution” found was for the Rika behind the stuck one to smush their thick bodies together to help the other one go through, which resulted in yet another birb becoming unable to move, a process that repeated until the last two were pulled outside and landed onto a small pile of Rikas, squirming around and making some rather undignified noises as they adjusted their increasingly-small clothes. The next class was much of the same, though at least the doors were double-wide, giving the rest of the student body some rest… which was quickly burned to ash when, of course, the group of Rikas loudly announced their joy at having “so much room” and thus decided to try and cross through the threshold two at a time. Predictably, this placed them in a rather awkward situation whereby their curves pancaked against one another and gave everyone else behind them one hell of a show of softness against softness, made worse once their growth began to turn more than apparent; an asscheek ballooning here, a pair of breasts gaining a couple of cup sizes there, it seemed that the more they pushed their bodies against one another, the more their bodies pushed back, leaving the Rikas inside of the second auditorium visibly larger than the ones waiting for their turn… at least until they, too, went through the process of squishing themselves against one another and gaining the extra few pounds, leaving them universally so much thicker all around that they began to elicit murmurs from the rest of their colleagues. Up until then, the group of birds got nothing but stunned silence and, at best, some incomprehensible murmuring on the part of the few people who dared to make any noise at all; now though, when their intent was clear and out in the open, some kind of line had been crossed, and everyone else in the room began to openly speculate about what was going on. Were they all sisters, perhaps, dectuplets of sorts that were all blessed by the hyper fairy? Was it some kind of weird stunt on the part of a compressor company, there to show everyone the horrors of hyper sizes when they weren’t properly contained? Only one thing was for certain, however, and that was how much everyone was enjoying the show, even when it became evident that it was bound to end in disaster; there were a couple of other hyper students in the group, and they were quick to tell everyone that whenever one of their kind happened to be a grower, they either engaged in some serious mental conditioning or risked losing themselves to growthlust on a regular basis. With the birds being so open about their bodies bloating with extra mass, it was hard to imagine they had any kind of self-control, leaving the experienced students feeling extremely panicked about their prospects. Of course, most of the rest were split in between passive interest and outright desire, and a few even went so far as to try and “sneakily” strike up a conversation, seeing as their second lecturer for the day was even more distracted than the first one had been. The Rikas were openly growing at that point, with a few audibly complaining about how tight their clothes were right before plunging their hands into their tits and making them grow several inches in every direction, or loudly asking whether the university had better seats as everyone saw their asscheeks ride up and start to spill over the armrests. A couple had gone in a different direction entirely, and even those on the back row were able to see their pillars of cockmeat emerging from out in front, throbbing visibly and leaking precum over the floor. These were soon followed by the first droplets of milk, and sooner still by the sounds of their collective cream pouring onto the floor, pooling around the first row of chairs and making a right mess of everything; the lecturer even had to go so far as to sit on their desk to keep their shoes dry, but at that point, there was no saving the class. The Rikas had taken control. The first one turned around, deciding to give one of their suitors the time of day; after all, the whole reason why they did any of this to begin with was to make a scene and leave a lasting impression, so why not go ahead and give people what they wanted? She was a particularly bust-heavy one, with each of her breasts easily being as big as the rest of her, and outright offered to stuff the smaller feline making passes at her straight into the middle of her cleavage; what cat didn’t love a good bowl of milk after all? The poor guy barely had a second to say “Yes, please, god yes” before he was picked and physically shoved into the warm folds of the busty Rika, his muffled moans still clearly audible to everyone else in the classroom. This was quickly followed by a small string of other, similarly-lucky chancers of all stripes, who saw what had just happened and decided they had to get some of it for themselves. All the while, the group of birds continued to expand in every direction, overspilling from their seats, some even causing them to break apart entirely before falling onto the ground, their immense rears being used as beanbag chairs. If anyone were to walk in, it was doubtful the spectacle of debauchery would be allowed to continue… but until someone did… It was at this point that Rika demonstrated one of her more curious powers, the same one that had allowed her to even exist in so many places at once. While normally she didn’t show it off in front of just anyone, given the kind of scene she was putting on, it almost felt like a disservice to her own sense of self not to display it before the whole world. Her cloning ability, first awoken a few years prior, had been one of her most prized powers, and the bird made sure to exploit it for all it was worth as much as she could; usually, this meant splitting herself into multiples so she could study faster, as the memories of each body were reabsorbed into her main one once they were recalled, but mostly she made good use of it for… less than wholesome purposes. Now that she was pursuing higher education, and thus didn’t have to worry about any legalities when it came to flirting with anyone around her, it was finally time to put it to the test. Rika had never known if there was a limit to how many versions of herself she could have running around, nor had she ever taken the time to stress test it to see how far it could go; now though, without anyone around to legally tell her to stop, why should she? Why not just throw herself headfirst into the same kind of obscene excess that characterized most of her internet search history? To that end, the main bird began to split herself again, creating new clones of herself in varied, but still smaller sizes compared to hers; it was important that she, the main Rika, remain as the biggest of the bunch, and that meant carrying a pair of floor-dragging tits, an equally sizeable ass, and now that some of her copies were going down that path, a body-length shaft with a pair of cum factories big enough that her ass began to look small in comparison. Each new Rika wasn’t nearly that large, but still significantly bigger than anyone else in the room, giving the rest of the students plenty of somethings to look at once the avian got started. The floor, too, was starting to suffer underneath the constant onslaught of fluids that exuded from so, so many different sources, whether it be surprisingly-sweet milk or musky, pungent spunk, filling the atmosphere with the sort of animalistic warmth that only someone like Rika could ever achieve. This led to her colleagues growing increasingly infatuated with her, not necessarily because of her productivity, but thanks to their brain’s chemistry being overloaded by the flood of pheromones flying everywhere; it activated their most primal instincts, led them down thought paths that they had never experienced before, and allowed them to accept the fact that something as utterly outrageous as what Rika was doing was indeed happening, almost as if it was perfectly normal and not at all a series of events that could only end in disaster. Of course, this could only mean that some of those bystanders would start to get ideas on how they could best make use of the hyper disaster happening in front of them, and it wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes after the first “split” before a few brave ones got up from their seats and made their way down to the front of the auditorium; after all, if there were so many Rikas to go around, why shouldn’t they take advantage of it? Hell, the birds were beckoning them closer, surely they wanted to be enjoyed as thoroughly as they were enjoying themselves! Thus it was that the first few volunteers began to vanish into the ocean of curves that made up the pile of sex-crazed birdbrains growing at the bottom of the room, some even jumping into it only to disappear from sight, consumed by a pair of breasts or poofing into the middle of some asscheeks, never to be seen until part of their head emerged from the mess to get a good breath, just before diving back in. It seemed like a lot of fun, especially given the noises coming from there, leading to a slow but consistent breakdown of willpower across the board. Now it wasn’t just ten birds walking around pretending they didn’t notice how massive they were; now it was twenty, almost thirty in fact, openly indulging in the kind of sexual activity that only a mega hyper like them could ever dream of… except, rather than hold it all for themselves, they were openly inviting anyone who might want to join, so they might partake of the same delicious bounty as them. It was honestly very generous of them, and if it weren’t for the utter shock that came with bearing witness to the transformations, everyone in that room would’ve joined already. Meanwhile, the Rikas weren’t going to sit around and wait for others to come and appreciate their bodies; they could do it whenever they wanted and it wouldn’t really matter, giving them a kind of freedom that they were enjoying far, far too much. No one had the ability to tell them to stop, or if they did, they lacked the will to do so, allowing each clone to find their own way to pass the time; some simply lounged around, lying back on their immense nutsacks or rears, others leaning forward to keep their breasts in a perpetual state of release. Still others began to experiment, growing extra cocks or pairs of milk makers, adorning their bodies with all sorts of modifications meant to see just what worked and what didn’t… all of it nothing more than a long-running trial meant to give the real Rika, the central, biggest Rika, the best day of her entire life. Any bodily alteration that turned out to work in terms of pleasure would immediately be copied by her, so she could immediately reap the benefits from having such inventive clones; a few were even improved upon, allowing the progenitress bird to keep ahead of all others. The result was that the Prime Rika, as she liked to be known, was left so much bigger than all of her clones that it was functionally impossible not to tell who she was just by looking at her: getting close to ten feet in height, even if it was hard to tell from her sitting down, carrying five rows of breasts on her elongated chest, three cocks already and five pairs of nuts, any one of these things big enough to obscure her body. She was the avatar of excessive self-indulgence, buried underneath her curvaceousness and weighted assets, and loving every damn second of it. The descent into chaotic mindlessness was getting quicker, with the remaining students who hadn’t yet succumbed to the allure of the furpile joining in as soon as they realized they were the last ones left not to have opted into the sudden orgy. Their lecturer, who had valiantly resisted the call for as long as they could, had long-since disappeared into the many folds of one of the Rika clones, with the last anyone saw of him being one of his hands squeezing a nipple before it gushed enough milk to flood a small section of the upper row of chairs, several yards away. Things were quickly growing out of control, quite literally, and it wouldn’t take long before some of the school’s staff began to notice that something was awry. It started off innocently enough, with one of the lecturer’s closer coworkers noticing that their friend hadn’t shown up after their class was supposed to end, followed by another, different colleague walking into the room to ask if anyone had seen the first years; they were supposed to have an introductory class with them, but no one was around, leaving the faculty slightly terrified as to what might be happening. The possibility of a terrorist attack or hostage situation crossed their minds, but for the sake of not starting a panic, the group assembled in the teacher’s lounge chose to look into it quietly before raising the alarm. Obviously, the first stop was at the auditorium where the previous class had been held; they had expected to find some clues, perhaps even the lecturer in question simply having forgotten what time it was in the middle of a Q&A session. Nothing, absolutely nothing could’ve prepared them for the sight that met their eyes once they opened the double doors, nor for the smell that wafted out from it, almost instantly overpowering them, enough that they took a few steps forward without even realizing it. Their minds took a few moments to tune back into reality after they were forced to process what was going on inside the auditorium, and even then they had a hard time believing they weren’t just experiencing some kind of mass hallucination instead; it seemed like the more reasonable option. After all, the alternative was to accept that they were looking at a large-scale, hyper-obsessed orgy of proportions so immense that they would need new mathematical models to begin describing it, and that was before they even got to the part where several of the participants appeared to be the exact same person; it took another one of their coworkers stumbling onto them after hearing of their conundrum for them to get an explanation: that Rika, one of their first year students, was indeed a natural-born hyper, and possessed the ability to make clones of herself. The teachers and other members of staff, by that point a dozen or so assembled right outside the doors, were split between what to even do. For Rika to have done something like this, to have ignored the core principles of their institution, was nothing short of insulting, downright criminal if they wanted to go down that path; on the other hand, the sounds they kept hearing from down below, the scents, the vibrations that came with a few of the birds pounding into one another with abandon… it was hard for them to remain objective about it when their minds and bodies screamed for them to join in, to give up their pretensions and just do whatever they wanted to do; it’s not like anyone in there would press charges anyway, and they were all adults, so why not take advantage of the situation and blow off some steam? There was something for everyone after all; a few of the birds sported purely biological female bodies, and while most of the others were a mixture of sexes, a minority were actually experimenting with a fully male form, all of which were reflected in that behemoth of a Prime avian that made up a significant portion of the floor by the time the doors were opened. That Rika, the original Rika, was more curve than woman, and judging from the noises she was making, was enjoying it so much that her brain was struggling to come up with words in which to put all of her joy in. Most of it translated into throaty, whorish moans, interspaced with the unmistakable sounds of sexual congress taking place. It was highly irregular, and they risked losing their jobs… but it was utterly irresistible, more so the longer they remained at the threshold. When it came time to choose, their course was set; only one member of the faculty actually turned back around, intent on alerting both the authorities and rest of the staff of what was going on, while everyone else nodded politely, gave him a few platitudes, then turned around and headed straight into the den of depravity that Rika had created, most of them already taking off their clothes as they began to sprint towards the nearest source of plush pudge or soft flesh, eager to know what it felt like to fuck to their heart’s content, without a single care in the whole world. As for Kira, she couldn’t care less; more people meant more fun, and more test subjects to try out new and exciting forms for her main body to adopt. At that point, it was less a question of how far she was going to go in that unplanned party of her, and much more how much she was going to retain. Right before enrolling into university, the bird had made sure to keep her curves modest… for a hyper. She was still far, far bigger than any regular person, but didn’t stand out that much compared to others who were blessed by the same gene. However, as soon as she formulated the thought that led to this complete breach of basic decency, as soon as she convinced herself that what was truly needed was for her to grow bigger, she began to wonder what it would be like if she just… well, was bigger all the time. Not just for this one special occasion, but always, constantly strutting her stuff for all to see. It was an alluring prospect, all things considered, and the bird could absolutely see herself bearing much more pronounced curves than she usually did, especially if there were enough cute guys to justify flaunting it like that. It was a new chapter in her life, one that celebrated her independence and the first step towards proper adulthood, so why shouldn’t that involve exploring every option at her disposal, lewd or not? After all, she had the power to change her body practically at will, so why not spend some time being so thick and curvaceous that she could barely work her way around doors and hallways? If she didn’t like it, she could just… shrink down. It was simple, it was easy, and it was a victimless non-crime that everyone could enjoy, or at least that’s how she chose to see it in her mind. The reality, as always, was far more complicated, but the avian wasn’t one for overthinking stuff; hell, she wasn’t one for thinking things through properly to begin with, so why bother starting now? The whole auditorium was starting to turn into a cream-covered mess, and not just the lactic kind; with the massive amount of dicks being swung around, not to mention the new Rikas being cloned whenever the original one felt like she wasn’t getting big enough quickly enough, it was no surprise that the walls were coated in spunk in no time flat, resulting in them looking as if they were perpetually melting from all of the oozing cum stuck to their surface. The ceiling was very much the same, at least after most of the birds broke the size barrier that let them fire off ropes of their seed with enough strength to hit it; enormous, person-sized globs of the stuff stretched down from above like goopy stalactites, before large chunks of them broke off and splashed onto… well, not the ground, seeing as it was mostly off-limits by the carpet of Rika bodies writhing around, but onto a bird clone, or a lucky participant if they happened to be going up for breath at that time. The floor was thus coated in a mixture of both bird spunk and milk, a concoction that, rather than being revolting, turned out to be a highly nutritious, and indeed extremely addictive substance that all of Rika’s new friends were quick to capitalize on. As for the original Rika, it could only ever be said that she accomplished her goal with flying colours; of all the birds rolling around in their own curves, hers were the curviest, the most exaggerated, the most ridiculous and excessive, just like she had always dreamed of in her deepest fantasies. Most of the floor had been taken up by her body, lying on a bed of milk and cum, where all others found some corner to get comfortable on. Several rows of breasts, at least five before she stopped counting, buried her in creamy, stuffed pudge, most of her cleavages invaded by an equally-numerous set of perpetually-spurting cocks that had painted most of the room the stark white that it was. Her nuts took up most of the far wall, all twenty or so of them, clenching so hard they practically created shockwaves whenever they did so; and yet occasionally, she still found it in her to develop an extra pair of udders, or more balls, or another cock or two. It was just the right thing to do. From there on, things were quick to melt into a haze of lust and carnal self-indulgence that none of the participants could realistically keep track of. Most of them, the ones that weren’t Rika, were too busy being suffocated by the birds’ many curves in a constant cycle of diving into the smothering folds and then surfacing for air, while the avians themselves were stuck trying to perfect their forms, so they may allow the Prime Rika to become the best version of herself that she could be. There was no doubt in any of their minds that this scene of utter depravity would keep going for as long as they had stamina to spare, no matter who tried to stop them… and as it turned out, there were plenty of people who tried to do so. They didn’t succeed, mostly succumbing to the same kind of lust everyone else did, but there was a long line of staff members, other students, and eventually police and SWAT teams that all tried, and failed, to get the orgy to stop in its tracks, only to end up joining it when their pleasure centers were overloaded. Soon enough, the entire school was in that furpile, which had expanded so much that the walls were starting to break down, and a few Rikas had even flowed into adjacent rooms just so they’d have enough space to have their fun unimpeded. There was no doubt left in Prime Rika’s mind that she was most likely going to end up expelled from the university the moment she ran out of steam; no matter how much the dean was enjoying herself, or how her teachers were all lost in the middle of a boob canyon somewhere, there was just no way she was getting away with something as immensely disruptive as that without being shown the door. But really, she didn’t care anymore; she knew that it was a possibility, knew that she’d probably have to deal with it, but went ahead with her plan anyway. Because it wasn’t about anything more complicated than just… enjoying herself. It was about being at peace with her status as a hyper, without having to constantly second-guess herself, an exploration of what it meant to truly cut loose and go hog-wild without the constant nagging voice of her conscience behind her. And honestly? She was liking it. Even if she was expelled, it would still be a net positive in her mind. Because there were always more universities to enroll in. There was only ever one first time.

A Bonding Mishap Deb tore the package open, ripping apart the brown wrapping and slicing the box open with her nails. She tossed aside the small puffed air protectors, and pulled out the clam shell package. It was beautiful. A thick veiny cock, with an internal attachment for herself. This one even looked real, complete with a set of realistic looking balls. The silicone attachment curving back and up so that she could wear it without a harness. She could feel herself already getting horny just handling the package. She grabbed a pair of old shears and quickly snipped open the package. A small pamphlet fell out but she quickly tossed that aside as she rubbed the thing. It actually felt slightly warm to the touch and she shivered thinking about sliding it inside her, or better, wearing it and slamming Marie’s tight cunt with it. Marie was due home soon, Deb had everything read. She was dressed in nothing but a teddy and some stockings. She intended to pounce as soon as the door was open. It didn’t take long, the door handle jiggled and Marie stepped in, only to be met with a deep kiss as soon as she was in the door. Deb pushed her up against the door. Marie was taken by surprise, but quickly softened in the arms of her lover, returning the kiss, while both pairs of hands franticly began to undo her blouse. Free of her work clothes, Marie pulled back for a moment “What’s gotten into you tonight?” Deb just smiled, “It’s more what’s going to get into you!” “Oh really?” Deb just took her by the hand and pulled her into the bedroom. Giggling as they hit the bed, with fingers dancing around each other. Deb quickly fingered her lover a little to get her juices flowing, and Marie arched her back a bit as she felt the probing. Satisfied her lover was pretty wet, she slipped Marie into a doggie style. “Mmhmm, you want this?” Marie wiggled her ass at her lover. That earned her ass a spanking to which she just went “Oooh, do it again!” Deb grabbed her new toy from where she hid it. She grabbed a small bottle of the lube and quickly coated the end to insert into herself, then dabbed a bit on the phallic end for Marie, which she rubbed on, feeling the interior portion rubbing inside her as she clenched down to hold the heavy silicone cock in place. Deb pulled herself up behind Marie, and slowly aimed the cock for the opening of Marie’s cunt. Marie grunted and pushed her face into the pillow, feeling the thick veiny cock invade her. She enjoyed the feel, she loved a good bit of fingering, but there was nothing like a thick rod inside her. This one must be new; it was bigger than the one Deb used in the past. She just moaned and let herself rock back and forth on it, even as she enjoyed the kneading and occasional smack on her ass from Deb. Deb let herself build up; it was like no other dildo she’d ever had. Normally she couldn’t feel much, but this one just rocked within her. It felt so real. She could feel the balls bouncing against her thighs, and the cock felt real, like she could feel the warms of Marie’s pussy around her. It was driving her wild. She let herself fall into the rhythm, feeling the slide. Suddenly she felt herself tense up, and all at once she felt herself explode in an orgasm that was unlike anything she was used to. It was as if all her nerves were just in her cock, and they all triggered at once. She gasped and grunted as she slammed her hips once more into Marie who was lost in her own orgasmic shaking. Deb almost flopped over on top of Marie, she felt drained in a way that she’d never felt before. Slowly she slid back, feeling the tension in Marie’s cunt as she clamped down her floor muscles. It was only just dawning on Deb that she shouldn’t feel that. She shouldn’t have felt anything like it. It was so real, like the cock was part of her. She rolled off; the cock springing free. IT wasn’t as hard as before; in fact, it was slightly deflated looking. Deb slowly reached down to the cock, her hand grasping it, feeling it pulse lightly in her hand, the tip trying to rise under her touch. Marie had turned around now, and could see the realistic phallus. She reached around herself and placed a hand to her oozing cunt, pulling away a viscous white sticky goop. She sniffed it, then a light taste, it before she slurped it down. “Oh, my god, this fake cum is so fucking delicious.” She promptly reached down, her touch bringing the cock back to life as she wrapped her lips around it, sucking on it. Within moments Deb just fell back feeling the cock twitch inside Marie’s mouth as she expertly sucked on it. A tenseness overcame her and she felt her hips jolt up sending the cock deeper down Marie’s throat even as another explosion of white goo came pouring out around the sides of her mouth. She coughed a moment, but quickly licked it off her hands and face, while Deb lay back feeling drained. Moments later she felt Marie curl up with her, playing idly with her nipples, before they both fell asleep. *** *** *** Deb was the first to wake. She felt better, but oddly different. She was snuggly under Marie’s arm, but she reached down, and felt the cock was still there. Slowly she started to pull, but instead of pulling the device from within her she felt herself pulling on, well, herself. The cock even started to engorge again as she tried reaching behind it, feeling the thick balls that lay on her thighs. She felt around for a moment, feeling nothing but a small ridge before she hit her own asshole. She bolted upright, waking Marie. “What’s the matter?” “It won’t come off! It won’t come off!” “What won’t come off?” “The dildo I bought. It’s stuck to me. Oh my god, I’ve got a cock.” Deb’s voice was shrill even as she pulled at the cock which only resulted in her feeling it getting hard under her dainty fingertips. “What do you mean you’ve got a cock?” Marie was still groggy. “I mean I’ve got a cock! Look!” She lifted her pelvis up exposing the increasingly thick cock to her lover. Marie put a hand to her mouth. “How did this happen?” “I don’t know! I bought a new toy, and it came yesterday, and I wanted to try it out.” “I thought it was just a strap on?” “It was, a strapless one, you know one of the ones where there’s a bulb that fits up one cooch, and that lets you feel the other riding you? I was hoping to spice things up a bit, and now? I can’t get it out?” “Let me take a look.” Marie spread Deb’s legs apart and lifted the cock and balls. Sure enough, there was no sign at all of Deb’s normally present cunt. She event traced the ridge between the sack and Deb’s asshole to prove it to herself. “Um, you have a cock.” Marie said. “Thank you, captain, obvious, I know that. How do I get it off?” “Didn’t it come with instructions?” “Um, maybe?” Flopping over on the bed she dug around in the mess on the floor, finally coming up with a small half torn piece of paper. She read it, her hands shaking: Thank you for purchasing from the Boutique, purveyor of unique sensual items for all needs. The items you have purchased today, the BIT-O-HIM is enchanted to ensure that your sensual pleasure is as great as your partners. Warning: Application of a Silicone-Based Lubricant may result in permanent bonding of this item. Warning: This magical device may result in unintended pregnancy. Prophylactics are encouraged during use. Deb just let the paper fall. Marie snatched it up and read, even as Deb sat there stunned. “I have a cock.” Marie shrieked “Pregnant!” Deb couldn’t tell if she was excited or furious. Right now, she didn’t care. *** *** *** “Hi, honey, I’m home.” “Can you be any more cliché?” Marie asked from the kitchen. “Not as long as you’re in that apron looking like June Cleaver.” Deb retorted as she dumped the mail on the table. Marie snorted. She shifted around uncomfortably and came to give Deb a hug. Her belly was just starting to show, and Deb rubbed it gently. They’d always planned to have kids, just never quite this way. Granted it turned out to be a whole lot cheaper than a lot of invitro. Deb had finally reached the company, unfortunately baring some miracle, she’d been bonded too long and they couldn’t do anything for her. Product liability was clearly stated and so she was left without a legal leg to stand on. She’d made due. Her life had changed, she kind of enjoyed the cock most of the time, though it was a bitch to hide eight inches while she was out working. She finally got one of her friends, who was a drag queen, to teach her to tuck it. Overall, Marie seemed okay with the changes, she wanted kids for a long time, and now she was happily pregnant. She’d always been bi anyway, so the change from cunt to cock was a shock, but not one she couldn’t live with. Plus, she still had Deb’s boobs to play with. The sex was better too. At least Deb knew how to please a woman with that monster in her dress. In fact, Marie had some designs on it right now.

If anyone asked, the neighbours would each have their own pet theories as to how the couple had gotten so massive over the years. Most of them fell down to some form of substance abuse, though for whatever reason no one really seemed to agree on what this substance might be, let alone how it could take a perfectly regular-sized fox and dragoness and turn them into the giants they were nowadays; a few, more radical elements of the suburb would even go so far as to suggest that something nefarious was afoot, that the two lovers were consorting with “dark powers” or whatever it was they had heard about or read in some obscure, entirely unreliable internet forum. The one certainty, however, was that everyone remembered Andy and Adelonda as they used to be, back when they first came to the neighborhood all those years before: clearly enthusiastic about keeping themselves fit, sure, but still just the same size as everyone else. It was only over time that the changes became noticeable, when inch after inch was added to their frames and the differences became too much for even the most oblivious to miss, especially when the fox left their home in the morning to come fetch the newspaper from the curb and everyone got to watch as the fifteen-foot behemoth bent over and gave half of the neighborhood a good view of their ass, or when the dragoness did the same and immediately provoked a series of near-fatal nosebleeds from the scandalous amounts of cleavage on display. Yet, despite this, neither of the two seemed to act any differently… at least, not outwardly. As far as anyone living next to the couple was concerned, whenever they actually interacted with either of them, they were still the same Adelonda, the same Andy, the same two folks who enjoyed the same things and, disturbingly, seemed entirely unaware that they were significantly larger than anyone else around them; no one could tell if it was a deliberate performance or if the two giants were just wholly ignorant of the fact that they weren’t supposed to be that large, but whatever the case, at least the people living there could rest easy believing that, at least for the time being, everything was fine. Perhaps it was for the best that they didn’t know the truth, that they had a polite fiction that they could turn to, point towards, and proclaim it to be reality, for if they truly understood what was going on inside Andy and Adelonda’s heads, they would’ve moved a long time before, somewhere far away where they wouldn’t have to worry about what was, inevitably, to come. In reality, those who believed drugs were involved in the growth process had nearly gotten it right, close enough that they should be awarded points for guessing regardless; over the course of their months living in their new home, the couple had been hard at working sneaking highly experimental, incredibly unstable and entirely unregulated mutagenic serums from a secure compound where they had established an intelligence network. Considering what the two did for a living, which was perhaps best left unwritten for the sake of posterity, this could charitably be described as a complete waste of resources, especially when they had other places to infiltrate and compromise; fortunately, neither Adelonda nor Andy were particularly interested in being efficient, seeing as, just as long as they did what they were contracted to do, then they earnestly believed they should be allowed to do whatever the hell they wanted with their free time… and what they wanted was to grow. It just so happened that one of their former targets, a chemical production company that worked for a genemodding conglomerate trying to break into the market, had begun to produce a compound that was designed to “stimulate bodily mass accumulation”, according to some of the files they recovered; the serum itself, as delivered by the facility to the gene labs, was supposed to be diluted and used only in as much of a concentration as strictly necessary, and in fact the “best practices” documentation outright suggested that using the raw material without preparation was potentially hazardous to just about every bodily system. For the happy couple, however, all they could care about was how this compound was supposed to make people grow larger; it had been a dream of theirs for some time, a critical part of their bedroom fantasies, and though they had spent most of their life together looking for any opportunity to pursue this goal, it wasn’t until they happened upon this specific chemical production plant before they could actually do something about it. A couple of well-placed bribes here and some blackmail there, and the two of them secured a steady stream of growth serum, delivered to them via mail in an inconspicuously marked package at the start of every week, along with a series of instructions on how best to use it that both the fox and dragoness duly ignored every single time. They didn’t have the patience to wait until the mutagen worked its magic the “standard” way, the way that it was “designed” to work; they wanted to grow, and so grow they would, even if they had to risk everything to do it… and grow they did, far beyond even their wildest dreams, until nowadays they woke up and every single morning became an exercise in not losing their minds every time they looked in the bathroom mirror and saw just how positively gargantuan they were. The outward normality was just part of the show, really; both Andy and Adelonda got their rocks off pretending like everything was perfectly fine, delighting in causing confusion wherever they went; the two of them even went so far as to buy custom-made clothes that were exact duplicates of the ones they owned in everything but size, just to keep everyone else guessing as to whether the couple was growing, or everyone else had just gone collectively insane. Behind closed doors, however, it was hard to tell that their home belonged to two people whose job was absolutely not, in any way, shape or form, corporate espionage; even if that weren’t the case (and it wasn’t), few professions would justify the sheer degree of damage that was on full display, and if anyone were to give their opinion, odds were good they’d ask if a highly-localized tornado had swept through the couple’s abode… multiple times. In a single day. Over several days, even, at least given by the amount of papers strewn about everywhere. Of course, the actual workstations were below ground, where the couple made sure to build two separate offices just out of sheer habit; as it turned out, this decision turned out to be serendipitous indeed, because it quickly became clear that neither of them could be in the same room as the other without their instincts taking over and their environs suffering because of it, almost always ending with even more serum being consumed, leading to their primal, bestial side becoming ever stronger with each passing day, and the vicious cycle becoming ever more unbreakable. Their home, their domicile, their personal slice of heaven, had turned into little more than one massive bed for the two lovers to fuck on, especially since it hadn’t exactly scaled up to meet up with demands, leading to the both of them feeling incredibly cramped even at the best of times; fortuitously, it also played perfectly into their size fantasies, especially the ones involving the two of them being living gods for whom the rest of the world was naught but a playground in which they could do whatever they damn well wanted without anyone being able to stop them. Perhaps it might’ve been a bad idea to keep taking the serum after it became clear that these urges were seeping into their regular state of mind, where the fox and dragoness would spend hours openly fantasizing about the day when they were finally big enough to loom over their neighborhood, then the nearest city, then landscape, local geography, maybe even the planet if they were lucky; what had once been nothing if not a daydream was now within their grasp, at least if they kept taking the growth serum and no one thought to alert the authorities about the magical growing couple that defied all conventional sense of scientific logic. It was for that reason that the two of them had stopped going outside so much, relying mostly on deliveries to get by… well, that, and the fact that in order to use the front door, they would inevitably make so much noise that they’d alert their better half, and then seconds later they’d be rolling around the floor, tearing out the wallpaper and breaking chunks off the walls, not to mention pulverizing whatever was left of the upholstery and kitchen cabinets. There would be nothing left of their original furnishings by the time they reached the year mark, at least nothing beyond vague hints of sawdust and stuffing, a year in which the two of them never ceased growing, never ceased empowering themselves, and never stopped wanting more; this was perhaps the most dangerous aspect of their transformation, that not only was it beyond the realm of what their bodies should be capable of, but that they always felt thoroughly unsatisfied. It felt positively heavenly, unlike anything they had experienced, and each and every injection of serum turned both Andy and Adelonda into vicious beasts whose energy could only be properly expelled by hours-long rutting sessions that inevitably culminated in yet more serum being consumed; days would be spent in this, days where they would consume the mutagen, bulk out, grow upwards, fuck, consume more mutagen, and then repeat, all the way until they exhausted their stock and had to wait for the next delivery to show up in the mail. Occasionally, they would be able to ration out their supplies for long enough that they spent that intervening time fully occupied, not even stopping to drink, eat or sleep, their minds fully focused purely on the rawest, most visceral pursuit of pleasure… and still, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough that they were experiencing the sort of sensations that were the exclusive purview of the gods themselves, nor was it enough that they becoming utter titans whose forms could barely even fit in their offices anymore; it wasn’t enough that a single swipe of one of their claws could tear down walls, nor was it enough that each injection of the stuff left them unable to think straight. In fact, it was highly doubtful that anything would constitute this nebulous “enough”, that any quantity of the growth mutagen would ever satisfy the two’s incessant need for more; more than likely, they were cursed to forever desire more that they could ever feasibly get, and the more of the substance they pumped into their bodies, the more prominent this desire would become, until eventually such a point would be reached that they could no longer function as sentient creatures anymore… and if that was the case, then why shouldn’t they force the issue? If they were already doomed to become mindless beasts ruled only by their instincts, seeking only the next moment of pleasure, then why bother with the charade? All this nonsense and time wasted maintaining a network of infiltrators that was already starting to wonder what its handlers were doing, so much trouble they had to go to in order to keep their contacts sending them more of the delicious mutagen, when they could just… take it. After all, who was going to stop them? The police? The army? Some kind of supranational organization that neither of them knew about? Neither of the two felt even the slightest amount of apprehension, for both Adelonda and Andy knew full well that, the moment they did what they had to do, no one would be able to stand up to them; why, they hadn’t even begun trying and they were both already reaching the twenty foot mark by the end of their first year in that house, so heavens above only knew what they might be capable of if they truly let go, if they put their all into things and just grew. To that end, however, something else was needed: specifically, more of the mutagenic serum, and not just in regularly higher quantities, oh no. If the couple wanted to truly cut loose and impose themselves upon the world, if they wanted to take for them what they were rightfully owed, they were going to need an absurd amount of the stuff, so much that it would make what they had already injected look like nothing in comparison; luckily, they both happened to know exactly where the compound was being produced, as well as the scheduling for deliveries and production cycles, making it child’s play to pick a point in the month where the highest amount of mutagen would be both stored for shipping and waiting for bottling in the holding vats. Just the thought alone was enough to leave the both of them feeling giddy, practically unable to hold themselves back; it was hard enough to exist within the confines of a house that had become far too small for them, so much so that they effectively had to drag themselves around everywhere to avoid bumping into the ceiling too much. Every non-essential wall had been taken down, and even the load-bearing ones bore plenty of scratch marks from when the loving couple forgot themselves during their moments of passion and nearly took down their entire domicile in the process; they couldn’t wait for an opportunity to burst free from their “prison”, to show the whole neighborhood what it was like to be in the presence of a pair of gods, and to conveniently let them know who they would be praying to and worshipping from that point forward… but for that, patience was needed. Patience to wait for the right day, patience to ask the neighbors to please and kindly bring their mail in if they wouldn’t mind, patience to keep from roaring the very foundations of their home into a thin mist… but patience would pay off, and when the right day dawned, when the two of them were awake and they both realized what they were supposed to do in the next few hours, it didn’t take more than a handful of seconds for everything to be set in motion, and for their entire home to be turned into little more than a large cloud of splinters, plaster, and the odd bit of drywall that had miraculously survived any prior destruction. Perhaps they should’ve been more careful, since someone might’ve gotten hurt, but given what they had intended to do that day, it almost felt farcical to hold back anymore; rather than dosing themselves in accordance with their usual schedule, they had actually held back just so they could inject their latest shipment half-and-half into one another, bulging out with enough mass to thoroughly break free from their now-unnecessary house, revealing their perfect forms to the world around them… but mostly an empty neighborhood, seeing as most people had left for their jobs or school at about that time of the morning. Still, it didn’t matter; they weren’t doing this for anyone but themselves, nor were they particularly interested about showing off in order to reaffirm their divinity; they were already perfectly aware of just how deific they were, and any worship they received was nothing if not affirmation of a fact, a reality really, that they were deeply acquainted with. Still, they couldn’t deny that it took the punch out of things, even if just the tiniest bit; while the explosion was something beyond transcendent, with the couple embracing one another as their forms bulged outwards with renewed size, with added mass and heft, until their heads broke clean through their home’s roof, serving as a signal for them to open their arms wide, flex, and promptly annihilate whatever remained of the damned thing’s structural stability, having no one there to notice apart from a random jogger made it feel… slightly less than completely full. Nevertheless, they were headed for the factory and they weren’t going to stop just because they didn’t have an audience. Even better, as they made their way in the direction of the industrial area a few miles off, they could feel their bodies reacting even further to the mutagen, in ways that neither of them had ever felt before; it was most likely a result of them finally operating out in the open, rather than having to remain inside a cramped domicile while suppressing their instincts… or at least that’s how Adelonda and Andy chose to see it. The truth was probably somewhere far away, hidden inside their genes and in some cosmic limit that they had just broken through, but for the purposes of their ascension, the lovers were perfectly fine with assuming that what they were going through was the result of them finally being able to flex, to pose, to smash, to crush, to destroy, to impose upon, to do everything they had wanted to do but just never had a chance to before. Of course their bodies would then keep adding more mass to themselves, of course each one of their motions seemed to bring with it additional refinement; they were, after all, the gods of that world, and as gods it was only natural that their physical bodies should strive to become as perfect as possible, even when they didn’t have the substance that allowed such a thing to happen in the first place. Best not to think too much about it, for otherwise they might interfere with a process that was beyond their understanding, and, quite frankly, beyond their ability to care; as long as they kept expanding outwards, that was all that mattered. For Andy, it was a matter of bulking up, though not to the point where it became excessive; while he was certainly muscular, he never quite reached the state where it looked like he’d been overdosing on synthoil, rather retaining a perfectly natural-looking aesthetic that, while certainly above-average and imposing, betrayed how he was perfectly sculpted through his own hands, rather than via the use of chemicals… well, apart from the one that slowly made him inch towards the forty-foot mark, but that hardly counted. Each one of his steps brought with it calamity to those underneath him, with cars and house alike vanishing each time his paws were brought down on the planet below, carving out a path of destruction that was only made more severe when his cock finally outgrew his body’s natural rate of expansion, ending up just long enough that it kept bumping into whatever was in the way; Andy could only imagine how massive his turgid size must be… and right the moment he did, he was given a demonstration. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but frankly, neither of the two giants were in any fit state to truly put two and two together, having surrendered almost entirely to their instincts, having forgotten what it was like to be anything other than primal beasts led entirely by their base desires. Meanwhile, just as Andy was becoming an ever-more powerful icon of virility, Adelonda had apparently decided to fit the other side of the bill, with her more curvaceous aspects magnified the longer their trek went on and the further their transformation was allowed to progress. Though she still gained some bulk of her own, mostly around the arms and abs, the true blessings of the mutagen had been in her lower curves and her ample bust; though in absolute terms they would be capable of tearing through buildings and flattening even the most hardened of metals, her assets never grew to a point where they looked too big on her, instead reaching a state of absolute perfection for the sort of body the dragoness had, the exact proportions needed to turn every pair of eyes that was within range, even if she wasn’t an absolutely titanic amazon capable of breaking through skyscrapers with a swish of her tail. From her full, perky breasts covering about half of her torso, if not slightly more, with almost ludicrous ease, all while retaining their shape with nary a hint of sag, to a perfect hourglass figure where her slimmed waist flared out into a set of wide, building-wrecking hips, further down into a pair of thighs so deliciously thick that it was entirely unsurprising that Andy seemed unable to go two steps without sinking a hand into them… mostly because his other one was too busy with Adelonda’s plump rear, which had gained just the right amount of jiggle to keep it perpetually bouncing, just as long as the dragoness kept walking to maintain the motion. It was at once both motherly and domineering, stunningly gorgeous yet savage and primal, like a great ancient war goddess who moonlighted as a fertility icon when no one was looking… and she was all that Andy could really look at. Though he still held firm to the idea that the two of them should get to the chemical plant as soon as they could, how could he possibly ignore a sight as beautiful as the one walking right beside him? It would be downright sacrilegious for him to act as if Adelonda hadn’t become the single most stunning creature in all of existence, and downright criminal if he didn’t make his feelings known in the most direct way possible; Adelonda herself could say the same for Andy, and with neither of them willing to suppress that voice in their heads telling them to indulge and forget, it didn’t take long before the two were rolling around on the ground, acting as if they hadn’t cleared straight through the sixty-foot mark, and their mere presence wasn’t enough to make the ground quake, let alone their careless ministrations. It was just like they were back at home, except this time around they weren’t taking down walls so much as flattening entire chunks of whatever suburb they landed on, scattering people to the winds just as easily as they created large clouds of debris, all while growing increasingly faster in the process; with their bodies becoming more and more efficient at handling the mutagenic serum, the sudden influx of hormones gave their organisms a stunningly dangerous idea: if they couldn’t get more of the growth agent, then they should just be able to make more. Honestly, with so much more room inside of them, it was child’s play to take some of the more unnecessary parts of their hormonal system and subvert them to this new need. It wasn’t as if the fox and dragoness would ever need to feel anything other than rapturous pleasure at every single second of every single day; they were so terrifyingly powerful that they could afford to get rid of these entirely redundant regulatory processes holding their bodies back, especially when these same functions could be fine-tuned to instead help produce more of the delicious serum that was responsible for leaving the two of them in such a state that they didn’t even notice their frames barrelling through the outskirts of the nearby metropolis, utterly flattening entire city blocks in their mindless moment of passion. First a trickle, then a thicker stream, until eventually their systems were producing so much of the stuff that the two lovers might as well be injecting themselves at every given instant, with just how much of the growth agent was being pumped through their bloodstream at any given moment! Not that either of them were aware this was what was happening, of course; so caught up in their mutual adoration for one another were they, that both Adelonda and Andy were perfectly fine with rolling over one another while destroying progressively larger chunks of their environment with each passing moment, their bodies taking up increasingly bigger and more vast amounts of space with every breath they took, every instant that they allowed their rapturous ecstasy to course through them. They could feel it in the back of their minds, how inches were added and these turned to feet, how they became larger, taller, wider, fuller, stronger, how their bodies seemed to groan and creak at times, in their struggle to keep up with larger and larger demands; they could both feel the pressure of their physical forms just barely managing to hold on, their size multiplying to sizes that really shouldn’t be possible for the fox or dragoness to maintain without seriously abusing the laws of reality as they knew them. It just so happened that neither of them were particularly well-versed in the realms of theoretical physics, so clearly, whatever notions they had about what might be possible weren’t tempered by the boring, soul-draining reality of scientific knowledge, leaving them free to determine new possibilities in whatever way they desired. If they wanted to be bigger, they would simply be bigger, and the universe, if it knew what was good for it, would adapt and provide for them as they so desired; that this resulted in them nearly having most of their blood replaced by an upgraded, more potent version of the growth serum that turned them into gods in the first place was, to them, nothing more than the logical endpoint to a journey they had begun a year prior. Though they were both content to take things slowly back then, such needless caution would no longer be required, nor in fact wanted; to hold themselves back, to deny themselves, was to invite tragedy into their home, for they were supposed to be gods, and gods didn’t refrain from doing things for the sake of maintaining some entirely unimportant sense of decency or good behavior. So what if they flattened large chunks of the planet as they went along? So what if their forms were engorging at such a quick pace that they could barely even keep up with the backlogged neural impulses? This was, if anything, just more evidence of their divine supremacy, that theirs was such a transcendent experience that their bodies had to keep sensations on a waiting list just so their brains had the time to process them properly, ensuring that, for each second they spent thoroughly enjoying one another’s presence, one another’s warmth, two would be added to the counter… and seeing as they didn’t intend to ever stop, this number would soon approach a second infinity, then a third, then so forth until it looped back on itself and the two gods would be unable to escape from their self-induced pleasure prison even if they stopped moving for all of eternity. Such was their plight, entirely of their own making, and such they would continue to work towards, even as the world around them became so small as to be almost irrelevant. First came the curvature of the planet, shown to them in its full glory as the two’s size reached such heights that the only thing that could compare was the local landscape. Then came the darkening of the skies, when the powder blue that they were so accustomed to slowly morphed into increasingly darker tones, careening inevitably towards the inky black of the cosmos beyond. Then came the slow drop in temperature, as the warmer climes near the surface of the planet were abandoned for progressively higher cloud layers, until the air thinned out enough that whoever of the two happened to be on top was also exposed to the deathly cold of space, their lungs taking surprisingly little time to adapt to the presence of a vacuum. And then, from there… it was a quick climb. It was a quick climb to a point where both their bodies were simply too big to fit on the planet anymore, at least in any way that was remotely comfortable; if they tried to lie down and stretch their limbs, they would find the sphericity of the Earth to be an obstacle, as their gravitational pull made it impossible for them to rest easy. For every moment they spent trying to make this square peg fit into a round hole, the more their homeworld was ravaged by tidal forces that threatened to tear it apart, by earthquakes of impossibly high magnitude created whenever one of them anchored their hands or paws on whatever surface they could find. For the good of their planet, and for their own sake, they had to leave… which they did, and quite simply at that; it was merely a case of forcing themselves up from it, almost like rolling out of bed like they used to all that time ago, with the caveat that they would never be returning to it from that point forward. Moments after leaving, they had already outgrown the planet, as the production of growth serum within their forms only spiked higher with every foot of height they gained, and seeing as how each moment gave them miles, the cycle hadn’t so much become vicious as it did inevitable, in the most eldritch manner possible. Every second they grew, they would grow faster in the next, in an eternally-accelerating process that would eventually leave the both of them at such a colossal, titanic size that the rest of the universe might as well not exist beyond the two of them; and, quite honestly, this was probably the best possible outcome, for they were already each other’s world, each other’s everything… so it becoming quite literal was nothing if not the only way that it could’ve ever physically ended. After all, if they had succeeded in raiding the chemical factory, they would’ve ended up where they already were anyway; such was their fate, and they would be better served if they didn’t fight it. After all, they’d have one another. Forever.

“You know, we should probably invest in a bigger room, this is getting a bit cramped.” It was the fifth time Vera heard her partner say that in the last week alone, and every time it just got better. Considering what prompted the comments, it was hard not to think like that; when most of the room was taken up by their warm, snuggly paws, it became difficult to do much of anything but rub up against them, even if movement was a chore and a half to get done. The two of them had been together for about five years, and never did they think their bodies would turn out like they did. Back when they first met, they’d been “normally”-proportioned, even if the Rena was significantly more buff than average, courtesy of their healthy gym habits. It made for some delicious contrast with her best girl Suzanne, a Lucario with enough chub that it was a wonder the two even met where they did, running into one another in a gym shower. To be fair, the Luca never came back to the place after trying it out for two days, but on discovering a mutual love for large-scale puzzles and terrible, underpriced vodka, the two of them just couldn’t let go of one another. It was a shame that their bodily growth had made the first hobby a thing of the past, though they still wouldn’t trade their new bappers for anything else in the world. The first few months of their relationship were nothing out of the ordinary, apart from a sex life so healthy it’d probably live to be a hundred years old; made for a wonderfully awkward scene with the neighbors, who demanded to know just who exactly was making all those “weird moaning noises” all night long, only to shrink away from the couple after realizing they were, indeed, a couple. It was still incredibly embarrassing, obviously, hence why the two invested in soundproofing their bedroom when the Lucario moved in, lest they have to keep looking at people sideways to avoid unfortunate blushing incidents. The first signs that something was “wrong” came near their first anniversary, when they began waking up incredibly sore after their nightly ​sessions​; this was nothing out of the ordinary, to some extent, but the degree to which they’d be utterly exhausted was something completely new. At times they couldn’t even get out of bed, which of course invited more snuggling which led to more naughty stuff that somehow bypassed their tiredness and it was all a vicious cycle after a while. At first they thought that it was just a standard consequence of them trying to find their limits on a nightly basis; maybe if they calmed down for a few days, things would go back to normal and they could then return to what they usually did. But even after reducing their intimacy to only a couple of hours every night, they were still waking up feeling like they’d run several marathons. This is when the changes began happening. It was subtle at first, the kind that doesn't get noticed until they mount up or something forced either woman to take a closer look than normal. One day, while Suzanne was busy making breakfast, her Renamon partner screamed bloody murder from the bathroom, prompting the Lucario to nearly trip over herself as she sprinted towards her, only to find the Rena staring at herself in the mirror like she’d seen a ghost. It took the Luca quite a bit before realizing what it was her spouse was seeing, and even then she couldn’t quite believe it herself, if only because her mind began to trace back the many days she ​had​ seen it before but gladly ignored it. Vera’s breasts had ​grown​. And not just a teensy bit, no, they were significantly larger than they had been when they first met, to the point where one had to wonder just how exactly they missed that happening when they were one of the key aspects of their very active sex life; and yet, it was without a doubt something they had seen happening and even ​noticed​ to some degree or another, perhaps one day figuring it was just imagination and in the other coming up with some nonsense excuse for why they weren’t ​really​ becoming bigger and it was just an illusion. Not once did they discuss it, and thank goodness they didn’t; what they ended up getting busy with after realizing it was happening was so loud that even the soundproofing wasn’t enough to keep the neighbors from hearing it. Trying to make sense of it all proved to be impossible, so the two women went with the next best thing and just gave up even trying. Somehow, Vera’s tits had gotten bigger, therefore the only thing they needed to worry about was whether or not their bodies were altered in any significant way going forward. From then on, checking their proportions every day became just as much part of their morning routine as exploring them was a crucial aspect of their night one, giving way to one of the best discoveries in their lives: both of them were ​still​ growing. Through some unknown process, their bodies were slowly fattening up in all the right places, even the Lucario avoiding putting on weight into her belly in favour of more sensitive, easily-pleasured spots. For the Renamon, whose body was already a well-sculpted work of art, this was seen less as an unwelcome change to an established aesthetic and much more of a welcome boon; she was sure to attract every eye in the gym now that her bosom was growing to be as dominating as her musculature! But what truly made them wonder what exactly was “wrong” with them was that the largest change did not take place in the “usual” places, but rather in their extremities. For whatever reason, their paws began to burgeon with newfound size just as much, if not ​more​ than their assets, eventually resulting in them outstripping the original growth rate and leaving them stunned at just what had caused such a drastic change in direction and ​why​ it had even taken place. Even more confusing was why it felt ​so good​ compared to the rest, though honestly it’d make a lot more sense if either of them ever paid attention whenever their biology teachers brought up the word “homunculus”. For the two lovers, only the end result was important: the ability to make a comfortable bed for one another by cupping their hands together or letting their significant other fall back onto a set of gloriously oversized stompers. This discrepancy in size would only get worse as time went on, with the two eventually needing to start making renovations to their house in order to continue living in it. Most of the doorframes had to be enlarged in order to give them the necessary amount of room to squeeze through without issue, while the idea of tearing down a couple of walls was floated around before they saw what the budget for that would be. However, as time went on and one year turned to three turned to five, it slowly became evident that whatever process had kickstarted the growth wasn’t going to stop at any point, thus needing them to start planning for the future a bit more adequately. They were already thinking of moving out, but until they did, the concept of simply removing all interior walls didn’t seem as absurd as it once did. In the present day, their curves alone would be cause enough for them to turn heads whenever they walked into a room. Chest-obscuring breasts, an ass wider than most doors, hips so flared that it was impossible not to bump into people whenever they sashayed from place to place, not to mention a pair of thighs meaty enough that they couldn’t avoid rubbing against one another whenever they moved, leading to quite a bit of embarrassment for the two of them during long walks. But it wouldn’t be ​those​ sizes that distracted people, because they were frankly nothing compared to the real stars of the show. It was a wonder, nothing short of a miracle how the two even managed to move around when both their hands and feet were as enormous as they were. Each one was about the same size as their whole body, allowing them to easily create a cocoon of fuzzy warmth for one another should they so desire, and to do so both at the same time! It was the most comforting sensation in the world for them, knowing they were kept safely in one another’s hands… in the most literal way possible. Their lower pawbs as well took up so much room that whenever one of them wasn’t feeling like taking an extended nap in the other’s bappers, then they could simply lean backwards and slowly go to sleep as they were rocked back and forth by the mounds of soft fur behind them. This ​would​ be a net positive for them, if not for the undeniable fact that they were very much still growing, and the rate at which they were seemed to be accelerating over time, to the point where they were already seeing inches being added every morning. The realization that it was quickly going to reach a tipping point they wouldn’t be able to return from had happened a long time ago; it’s just that neither of them were all that worried about the implications so long as they still had one another to snuggle with. So it was that they kept waking up bigger and bigger, until eventually they saw themselves growing in real-time during the day. Not that much at first, but all it took was a couple of weeks for them to be able to watch as their pawbs attained ever greater sizes, while their own bodies struggled to keep up. Soon, the idea of hiring someone to take down the walls sounded ridiculous; they could just sweep their hands and do that themselves without it having to cost them a single dime. But even that much wasn’t worth their time, because what house would ever be able to contain them? A few short days after the last time Suzanne suggested expanding the room, the two of them were… tight. They hadn’t moved in a while, feeling their pawbs expand in every direction and press against the walls with increasing strength. There used to be room in there, back when all of the house’s inner volume wasn’t taken up by their hands and feet, by the small forest of fur growing on them, but so much of them that they began “leaking” into the cracks in the walls, floor and ceiling. They were mere seconds away from destroying their home forever, but they didn’t care; the warmth was such that nothing crossed their mind but the desire to keep feeling it. Anyone looking from the outside would see them bulging out, defying their nature as slabs of concrete, the building seeming to inflate like a balloon. Didn’t take much longer for it to be destroyed from the inside out as the couple’s paws’ size became greater than the structure’s ability to keep them inside of itself. Their scale continued to magnify as their rate of growth sped up, inches unto feet of soft graspers and stompers utterly obliterating every building in sight, their inhabitants mercifully spared injury or worse by virtue of the proverbial wrecking balls being so soft and inviting that they could just cling onto them, basking in their fuzzy warmth. Both women more than welcomed all these new visitors; it’d be a shame to keep their bodies all to themselves, after all, when they already gave one another everything they were on a daily basis. With such wonderful pawbs, why should they be selfish? Better that everyone get to experience what the Luca and Rena did, even if it was just a fraction of the full experience; all of their love was still directed firmly between themselves, after all. Still, the sudden explosive burst of growth was enough to begin tearing through their neighborhood, and soon enough the whole town; as expected, whatever phantom force had been making them ever so much larger for the past several years had finally gone into overdrive after its exponentials stacked hard enough, and now nothing would stand in its way; from a certain perspective, it was quite lucky that their two bodies were as comfy as they were, because who knew what might happen if they didn’t offer all these suddenly-homeless people a good place to stay? What kind of hosts would they be if they didn’t give them all the best possible bed to rest on? The sounds of destruction were adequately muffled by the growing mountains of fluff, neither women being all that interested in determining just where their paws went, so long as they kept getting bigger. Their curves and overall size were also increasing, of course, but nothing compared to those immense, dexterous hills carrying most of the city on the small forest of fur they sported. Being as sensitive as they were, it made for a positively wondrous sensation, both the Renamon and Lucario giggling as they felt the thousands of people they were carrying wriggle around and trying to make themselves comfortable, not even caring about the wave of destruction they were riding, because those weren’t just ​any​ giant hands and feet they were riding atop. Both women’s fur had always been one of the traits they were most proud of. Not only did they take good care of it on a daily basis, meticulously pouring through every inch of it to maintain its silky-smooth feel and near-glistening look, but they were both lucky enough to be blessed with a thick, fluffy coating that would allow anyone to sink their hands into, even before they started growing! So much so, in fact, that one of their favourite pastimes before their inevitable growth spiral was to just hug one another and bask in how thick their fuzz was, vanishing into one another for hours at a time; it was impossible to describe how powerful the effects of that fur were on their minds, and now that it was scaled up to the point where a whole city was turning into a proverbial hostage to it, so too was its power to bring absolute rest and peace to anyone that touched it. Therefore, it wasn’t all that surprising that even people who had technically lost most of their material possessions weren’t all too worried about the implications. They had the two lovers’ fur, after all, so they could just close their eyes and disappear into the thick shag, forever lost in a daze from which, while they ​could​, they never ​would​ come back from. Why bother with earthly concerns when they could simply drift away in peace for all eternity, kept alive by the same forces that granted Suzanne and Vera their godlike sizes? It was a fitting “end” to everyone who welcomed them and just about everybody else, because the two women weren’t stopping at the suburbs. They could feel their bodies growing to where they’d be able to crush the city if they ever flopped onto it, and seeing as the difference between themselves and their extremities continued to become more disparate, it was hard for them to tell what scales they were operating on. Parts of their pawbs were deathly cold, probably as a result of brushing up against the lower atmosphere, while other sections were humid from rain or wet from ocean water. Weather patterns all around were being disrupted by their bodies, and yet all they could bring themselves to worry about was welcoming as many people as they could “aboard” them, eager to invite the whole world if they had to! Funnily enough, it was very much out of their hands despite being on them at the same time; much as they wanted to avoid any undue injury, their bodies had grown to a scale in which it was difficult to even conceptualize things as small as inches, much less move around in them, creating this odd scenario in which they attempted to move as little as possible and yet still brushed up against entire mountain ranges and plunged into the depths of the oceans with as little care as they would breathe or turn their heads from side to side. It took all of their power and concentration to keep from actually destroying anything, and even then it quickly became evident that if they wanted to avoid causing any damage to people, then they’d have to leave. It wasn’t something either of them were keen on, nor in any way had thought of before, as the two always expected to be able to remain on Earth, even oversized as they were; seeing as how so many were partaking of the same kind of fluffy pleasure as they were, it was doubly painful to entertain the notion of simply going away, never to really return… at least not in a scale comprehensible to anyone else. But as their bodies continued to grow, and their extremities even more so, they were running out of time; in minutes, the decision would be made for them, and if they didn’t do something on their own then there might genuinely be some harm coming down the way of the little ones they so desperately wanted to protect. At least their transformation had given them the best tool to eject themselves off from the planet: their own paws. Though complicated to use without creating massive quakes, all the Rena and Luca needed to do was hop, just a simple hop, with their feet being large enough to propel them to low orbit; from there, it was simple enough to escape from the gravity well, ending up floating around in the cloud of space junk surrounding the planet. This created a different issue altogether, because their pawbs were anything but empty. They had genuinely forgotten about it, but there were still tens of thousands, possibly hundreds​ of thousands of people still clinging onto their fur as a result of their initial surge, if that number didn’t peak at the millions; even if they could somewhat feel large groups of them, the tiny ones on their bodies were so, well… ​tiny​, that it was hard to make out just who was where and how many of them there were. And while their fur could keep them alive by virtue of holding enough breathable air in its thick overgrowth, it wasn’t something that could go on forever; even the two weren’t certain how they were surviving in the vacuum, but they were convinced none of their passengers would. At least the Earth was still perfectly fine, if a bit confused at suddenly having developed two new moons out of nowhere. The best either of them could do was try not to disrupt things ​too badly down below, which was easier said than done once the actual Moon bonked one of them over the head and nearly went flying off into interstellar space; they were running out of time and they knew it, thus needing them to hurry up if they wanted to get anything done. Convincing their guests to get ​off​ was slightly more complicated than first anticipated, something not helped by how every time they tried to have them disembark, more people attempted to hop onto them. Neither of the two were ready to start dumping folks in the middle of nowhere just for the sake of expediency, but it still made for a highly frustrating experience when for every passenger shaken off, three more would take their place place, until most of the planet’s population was clinging to their colossal fingers despite their best efforts at poking them into place. Both women were blushing furiously at this, even more so when they confirmed no one was left back on the planet; every sentient life was somewhere on their pawbs, posing a significant logistical and arousal issue once the need to start rubbing one another began to flare up again. “We can’t just… not with them here!” Vera stammered, somehow capable of speaking with her lover telepathically, “We might hurt them!” “Do you have any better ideas?” the Lucario replied, gently poking the Earth, “Because they won’t hop off!” Indeed they wouldn’t. Try as they might, their passengers steadfastly refused to go anywhere but deeper into their growing paws, which presented an increasingly bigger problem the more it was allowed to carry on, seeing as neither of them seemed to be slowing down; quite the contrary, in fact! Soon enough they’d have to be worrying about the sun, and after that came to pass there’d be no hope of ever returning to Earth… unless they brought it along with them. It was such a simple idea, and yet neither of them came up with it until the very last second. The Renamon’s head practically lit up like a proverbial lightbulb when it came to her, the young woman excitedly suggesting that, if they couldn’t get people to get off their pawbs, maybe they could just stuff the Earth in there! Certainly there should be enough room between tufts of fur to hold the planet in a nice little spot, and assuming they were as resistant as they appeared to be, they’d be able to stuff the sun in there as well! Suzanne wasn’t entirely convinced, mostly because it was more likely their fuzz would turn the whole planet into a spherical carpet, but it was either that or nothing. Moving with as much speed as she could muster without being destructive, the Lucario gently prodded their home planet until it vanished into one of her fingers, then urged her partner to try and get her passengers off as closely to it as possible. It was exceedingly difficult given their scale, not to mention how it needed both of them to rub their fingers against one another, but after a few minutes of hard work, the last few million sentients were being gently lowered onto the planet via the fur bridges, to enjoy eternity amidst an endless expanse of easily-accessible, heavenly fuzz, descending from the skies in long, thick ropes. Wouldn’t take long before the first worshippers began to congregate into a pseudo-cult, something that brought both women no end of embarrassment when they began hearing their prayers in the back of their heads. “I’m not sure I’m quite ok with this…” the Rena muttered, her red face telling a completely different story. “Worry less about that and more about what’s coming our way, hun.” The sudden uptick in temperature was enough to let the Lucario know what her partner was talking about; without even realizing it, the sun had already begun brushing up against their fur, and tough as they were, that thing was ​still​ a giant ball of plasma without any safety rails around it, making it exceptionally painful to try and even approach, much less hold in the confines of their pawbs. The only solution was to try their best to avoid it altogether, at least until they both grew large enough that their own gravitational pull exceeded that of the galactic center, at which point it should be easy enough to create a new orbit for it. As it stood though, there would be no need to even wait that long; their power was immense, far in excess of what they consciously perceived it as being, and the moment they thought up that possibility was the same one that they realized they could just… do it. It was so simple that they felt like dummies for not having through of it, though to be fair to the both of them, the concept of creating a gravity well from nothing just so they could place the Sun on it and the Earth around it was something so novel that they lacked the vocabulary to express what it was, much less how they did it. All they knew was that they placed two fingers together and suddenly the Sun was stuck there, a permanent fixture relative to them, with their home planet carefully put back into place. There were a great many protestations from the population, but as soon as they realized their new position in the universe gave them an unprecedented view of their ​whole goddesses, those quickly died down. With the new and improved one-planet solar system in place, there wasn’t a lot either of them could do but… wait. Even with their growth accelerating as it was, the universe was still a vast, mostly-empty volume of space, making most of their trip exceedingly boring… if not for their own presence. Truth be told, neither Suzanne nor Vera were at all interested in whatever was going on around them; as long as they didn’t hit the Earth or its star, they really couldn’t care less about interstellar clouds of gas or the odd rogue black hole they smacked out of the way, being far too busy basking in one another’s presence to really do much thinking at all. The only thing that succeeded in bringing them out of their stupor was the presence of what was perhaps the last great obstacle they would ever face. On their way to ascension, countless star systems fell prey to the same fate that their home one had barely avoided; of course, by that point, their fur had become sturdy and resistant enough to actually keep and hold that nigh-infinite multitude of plasma balls, along with whatever planets they might have circling them. While it became harder by the moment to move any one part of their pawbs in any way that didn’t obliterate entire star clusters, they still did their best, moving whatever inhabited planets they found away from the forests of fur they were getting trapped in and placing them in the same pocket of space where Earth was. Within the span of a few days, what had once been a single dot of light turned to hundreds, all arranged neatly and closely enough that their respective civilizations could speak to one another (with some delay), mostly to exchange their own stories of how the goddesses came to bless their worlds. But even as all sentient life in the galaxy was being transferred over to their new existence, there was still a beast that remained unslain, something that both the Lucario and Renamon knew they’d have to deal with eventually: Sagittarius A*. After positively confirming that it was, indeed, a ​really darn big​ black hole, the question became what to do with it. They couldn’t just squish it like they did with its smaller cousins, nor could they simply ignore it; while their hands and feet could be made to move out of the way, the rest of their bodies would collide against it eventually, and if they did nothing to get it out of the way… it was hard to tell what might happen. The only solution was, of course, to get rid of it, though how exactly they would go about doing it was still a mystery. They racked their brain for an answer, fighting over it for days on end as their certain doom approached. Taking advantage of gravitational currents, the two goddesses managed to rake their colossal pawbs over the whole of the Milky Way, collecting every star on their way to the final showdown with the beast hiding at its centre, taking the time to sift through their collection of stellar objects for signs of civilization, that it may be placed in the safest place possible. It wasn’t until they were sure that every last sentient species was inside their artificial cosmic backyard that the futility of their endeavours hit them square in the face. It was pointless to come up with a solution. They ​already had​. The two were so busy trying to keep everyone from being harmed by their presumably bungled-up attempts at taking care of that reality sinkhole that they failed to notice their methods were more than enough to resolve their problem without the slightest complication. Though still immensely​ dangerous, it was by far a better alternative to “squish it and hope the singularity goes away” like they’d done with every other. If they created artificial gravity wells to keep their rescued planets in one place relative to them, then it should be easy enough to do the same to Sagittarius, thus making it so that it would never touch them or anyone else… provided they angled it correctly. It was so simple that they practically bapped themselves over the head for failing to realize it… but as soon as they were done doing it, both felt a pang of disappointment. It had all shaped up to be their grand finale, the greatest test of their skills and confirmation that they were, indeed, worthy of the title of divinities, only to turn out to be a non-issue and fizzle harder than malfunctioning fireworks. They felt robbed, in a way, and it took their own rescues to drag them out of their funk. They’d been so busy travelling through the cosmos and figuring out what their next biggest goal should be that they almost forgot about the very people they were saving. Safe in their pocket, they had spent their time together pooling their knowledge of the universe, all in the hopes of establishing direct contact, the ultimate goal being to reunite with their goddesses once again. Technology and inventiveness boomed as the more religious aspect of their devotion turned from active practice to simply another facet of their life; it was a given that Vera and Suzanne were there, and thus everything they did was in their name, all so that they may one day be together again. And the collective experience of billions of lives, all working together in unison, united under a singular goal and devoted towards the pursuit of divinity… it touched them. But the Rena and the Lucario allowed the background chatter to overtake them, and were so overwhelmed by the intense love and dedication that flooded their minds that they both had to bite back tears, unable to hold their hands to their muzzles. In that instant, they felt well and truly loved​ like they never had been, and thus vowed to keep their little ones safe for all eternity if they had to. But they weren’t all of them, merely the ones from their own galaxy. There were countless others out there in the vast expanses of the universe, ready to be discovered, ready to be taken, ready to be placed in the same harmonious heaven as all the others. And now, the two lovers could finally reach them. It was a long way to go.

Lazing about in the living room wasn’t exactly what Starry had in mind when Veena invited her over to “hang out”, but at least the latter had the bright idea to use the time to milk herself, so it all evened out. Not that the vixen would dare to suggest that she wanted anything lewd to happen, heavens no, but it just so happened that being near someone like that Espeon without going a bit red on the cheeks was… difficult. It wasn’t as if Veena was trying to make it awkward, but her very presence, courtesy of how her body looked, made things exceedingly more scandalous than they had any right to be, something that wasn’t helped by the taur herself occasionally playing into it in order to exacerbate what was already a difficult situation. To say that she was blessed would be an understatement: carrying four pairs of breasts underneath her tauric carriage, along with a further two up top on her regular chest, the Espeon-taur was hard to move around at the best of the times, even when fully drained and at the start of her milking schedule. It was just that she was also extremely productive and prone to bloating with cream at a rate far higher than most actual bovines, a fact that she was almost too proud of, and the reason for why there were multiple milking pump arrays installed in her home, a home she couldn’t quite move away from unless she wanted to end up immobilised atop a bed of dairy-stuffed udders. As such, most of her business and pleasure were conducted from within her own four walls, including any time she wanted to hang out; for Starry, who was nothing if not painfully mundane to the point of being downright average at times, the sheer difference between herself as the absolute behemoth of a boobtaur next to her made any and all meet-ups a battle between her willpower and her arousal. It didn’t help that Veena was colossal just by herself: nearing ten feet high from the top of her head to the bottom of her paws, and each of her tits being a good three feet wide at their smallest, her entire body exuded the sort of energy that was best reserved only for the sort of horned-up videos that Starry insisted she never saw, nor stored locally on her hard drive when she thought no one was looking. Even better (or worse, depending) was how nonchalant the Espeon was about the whole thing; others might very well ask for some privacy before flopping their tits out and having the suction cups attach to their leaking, engorged nips, but not Veena! She just flumped onto her recliner, had the mechanical arms peel the complex layering of clothes she had on herself, then allowed the machinery to do the rest; perhaps it wasn’t quite a coincidence that she waited until Starry was nice and settled in before doing so, maintaining eye contact throughout the whole process while keeping up polite conversation about whatever topic came to mind. The whole thing lasted little more than a couple of minutes before the milking proper began, but those two minutes were the longest ones of the vixen’s life; to sit there and watch as it happened was beyond description, her body running hotter than it would with a fever as she tried oh so hard to pretend like she didn’t want to throw herself directly into the many milky folds of the boobtaur’s body. Mercifully, this was but first impact; as with all the other times the two of them were together, it was a matter of acclimation, though Starry swore up and down the Espeon was using her psychic abilities to influence her guest into being more agreeable and less outwardly lustful. Veena herself vehemently denied any and all accusations, but always did so with the kind of smile that made it difficult to tell whether she was just being smarmy on purpose to mess with her friend, or actually hiding her true intentions and actions. Regardless of what the case may be, the two of them eventually fell into the typical rut of not-watching television while chatting about whatever came to mind; it was enough to get Starry into the right state of mind where she wouldn’t even notice the rhythmic pumping of the milkers right next to her… and in the right state where she began wondering about the oddest things. “You think I might be part Nickit?” the vixen mused, grabbing her bushy tail and trying to arrange its tip into a more appropriate shape, “People tell me I look the part all the time.” “Is it the brown fur?” the Espeon wondered aloud, giggling quietly, “I bet it’s the brown fur.” “Well, that, plus, you know” - Starry raised both her hands, accentuating the darker fur on them before pointing towards the same pattern visible on her exposed paws - “that and the mask around the eyes, even if I get people saying I’m part raccoon instead just to mess with me.” “I think you’d know if you were part Pokémon, Starry,” Veena replied, chuckling to herself quietly at the mere thought that her friend would actually think that to be true. “Well, how do you know if I would know?” the vixen fired back indignantly. “Well, let’s go down the list, then” - the Espeon turned to face Starry, crossing her arms over her topmost bust - “Can you tell whether or not you have levels?” “What?” “Do you know what your stats are? Baseline, current, and which ones go up faster?” “Veena, what the fuck are you o-” “What about moves? Do you know any special moves?” Starry hesitated. From the look on her face, she clearly wanted to keep protesting what she saw as a ridiculous line of questioning, yet at the same time she had the perfect opportunity for a dumb joke just given to her on a silver platter, and she wasn’t about to waste it. With a smile, she straightened her back, looked Veena straight in the eyes, crossed her own arms, and after leaning her head back with a single raised eyebrow and a smirk, replied: “Well, Hook seems to think so!” Veena snorted immediately, having to look away to keep herself from giggling too hard. Even when she did speak, it was with significant and clear difficulty, having to stop from breaking into a loud cackling whenever her mind grazed the absurdity of what Starry had just said. “Not those, but… g-good effort, sure, why not?” - yet more giggles - “Listen, all of what I just said? It just sorta comes naturally when you’re one of us; I can’t explain it any more than you can explain how you breathe without realising it, but it’s true. On the other hand, if you’re part Nickit, maybe you just inherited the type-advantages and nothing else… hmm, if that’s the case, then you’d be classified as a Dark type, I think, which would make you resistant to Psychic-type moves, like the ones I have! Ready to have it tested out?” “Wait, what ar-” “Good, fantastic, hold still.” Starry didn’t even have the time to get a single word out before she felt her whole world being turned upside down, tugged on by invisible strings as Veena, seemingly effortlessly, levitated her up from the couch. The vixen did get plenty of yelping done though, that much was for certain; indeed, if the neighbours weren’t already used to those sorts of noises coming from the Espeon’s apartment, owing to her prodigious and rather head-tilting amount of entries in her little black book, they might’ve wondered what was happening. Instead, the few who still cared enough to be able to listen shrugged and took another step on the long road to simply tuning out whatever came from within that apartment, carrying on with their day just like Veena carried on with hers; smiling like an idiot, the boobtaur eventually put her friend down, crumpled and upside-down, with Starry having to tumble over herself just to find where the ground was. “See, this is why you’re not part Nickit,” Veena capped off, giggling quietly to herself, “but if you’d like, I can offer you some Rare Candy, I heard it has wonderful effects outside Pokémon physiology!” “Like what?” Starry eventually replied, grumpy and pouty from the sudden lesson in psychic anti-gravity, “Will it make me resistant to being pulled in the fucking air?” “No, but it’ll do something like this. Just watch.” Veena snapped her fingers, and with that simple gesture a small panel slid open on the ceiling directly above her. From it descended a small plate on a platter, almost like a dumbwaiter of sorts, one that had not food, but several pieces of wrapped candy on it. Starry had heard of those things, though very little of what they were supposed to actually do; she knew they made Pokémon more powerful, but apart from that generalisation, she didn’t have much in the way of clues. Veena, however, seemed more than happy to demonstrate, as she plucked one of the snacks, unwrapped it to reveal what appeared to be a perfectly mundane chocolate bar, then downed it in one go. For a few brief moments, nothing happened; Starry was beginning to convince herself that all changes were internal, impossible to see for someone like herself, maybe even something like those “stats” or “levels” that Veena had mentioned. After those brief moments were done, however, the reality of it set in and Starry was given a front row seat to what it was like for the Espeon to have an unfortunate bloating incident. She’d also heard about those, and in far more detail than was perhaps necessary, given how much Veena liked to go on at length about things she enjoyed doing; the vixen had heard all about the tightness, the milky overload, the scent of dairy permeating the air as the very essence of it was sublimated into the atmosphere, everything really. She’d heard of it, and for years she dreamed of being able to see one for its full duration; now, out of nowhere, apropos of nothing in particular, Starry sat there, staring sideways at Veena as their multiple sets of udders began bloating, their contents slorshing aggressively as the suction cups struggled to remain fixed to their increasingly larger teats. The machinery hidden behind the walls whirred into action, presumably having detected a much larger and powerful flow, yet even then there were already multiple splotches of milk adorning the ground, courtesy of the vacuum seal having been broken by a combination of size and productivity. The whole room seemed to shake under the sudden encroachment of multiple swelling udders, yet Veena herself looked to be about as unfazed by everything going on with her body as one could possibly be: her warm, soft smile was still there, her eyes were still focused on Starry’s, and after a point, she even leaned forward onto her own busts to give the smaller vixen a pat on the head. All of this and more took place in just a measly thirty or so seconds, even if it felt significantly longer for the visitor, who had to sit there and watch as her friend grew so much larger, so much fuller, so much more productive; the poor pumps had their work cut out for them after each breast swelled to nearly five feet in diameter, with an accompanying upgrade to their innate dairiness. What was worse, Veena herself didn’t say anything afterwards; the whole thing might’ve been slightly more bearable had the Espeon deigned to offer a single comment, even if a trite one, just to break apart the spell and return to some semblance of normality. Anything, even just a dumb joke, would’ve sufficed; instead, the taur reached for the plate again, procuring yet another piece of candy… and offering it to Starry instead of taking it for herself. “I can’t promise you that it’ll do the same,” she did comment, keeping her voice at just the right tone and volume that the vixen didn’t notice the obvious psychic manipulation taking place behind it, “but it’ll absolutely do something, and I’m sure you’re dying to know what that is, aren’t you darling?” She was. She absolutely was. Starry didn’t even think before reaching out for the little piece of chocolate, salivating profusely as she fantasised about what might happen once she, too, swallowed it in one go. Bigger, fuller tits? A rounder, plumper ass? The best damn tauric body she could show off to Hook once she got back home, assuming that was something he (or herself) was into? Who knew, really? Who but herself, who took the candy in her hands and promptly shoved it into her mouth, barely chewing it before swallowing the overly sweet treat with a long, contented sigh afterwards. And again, for a while, nothing happened… a long while. A longer while than what had happened with Veena, enough that Starry began wondering whether she wouldn’t be getting anything herself; maybe the candies didn’t work on non-Pokémon, not only denying her the right to have her body grow, but the fantasy of believing herself to be at least partly like her tauric friend. For a long while, she sat there staring at her tits, practically daring them to grow, just one or two moments away from outright verbalising the thought… before it hit her. A sense of overwhelming pressure, one focused in her inner core, right around where her heart should be, forcing her eyes open in fright as she panicked at the prospect of some kind of candy-induced heart attack; Starry’s head snapped towards Veena, who disturbingly enough had a wide, almost predatory smile stamped on their face, their eyes glinting at whatever was happening as the tauress clearly enjoyed every moment of it. The pressure rose, spreading through the vixen’s front, threatening to overtake the rest of her… until it started focusing on two very specific parts of Starry’s anatomy. She couldn’t believe it, and indeed refused to for the first few moments after it became obvious: the sight of her shirt stretching wasn’t real, it was just her imagining things because she wanted it to happen and wouldn’t take no for an answer. The warmth, the fullness, even the sloshing coming from very close by were not hers, but Veena’s, and she was merely feeling it because… some reason, she hadn’t quite figured out how to rationalise that away. Nor would she, as the side of her that baulked at the notion of pretending like everything was fine had begun shouting very loudly, in defiance of the vixen apparently deciding the best course of action was to not indulge in the growth as much as possible. It became harder to ignore it, as it assimilated more and more of Starry’s subsconscious before pulling an outright hijack, forcing itself into her frontal conscious mind and pushing the older, more conservative vixen into the hole where they belonged. Now there was a new Starry there, one that looked down upon her bust and, rather than trying to come up with convoluted explanations as to why it wasn’t actually there, instead reveled in how big it was getting. Big, and full as well; it wasn’t just a matter of size, but her tits were filling up with milk as well, at least judging by how much heavier they were getting even while their size only picked up slowly[a]. Soon enough they were pushing the fabric on her shirt far enough for it to start straining the integrity of the fibres themselves, and from there it was a short step to the first few tears being opened, the sounds filling the air almost as much as the overtaxed milk pumps still working away on Veena’s many busts. Veena herself still held her gaze, looking about as disinterested as she did fascinated in an odd mixture of confusing emotions that left Starry feeling conflicted between wanting to beg the Espeon for help and slapping them across the face for their insolence. Unfortunately for her, there wasn’t much the vixen could do once the pleasure strikes began in earnest, the electrical jolts firing up her spine with such intensity that it was really no wonder she ended up on her knees and on the ground within a couple of short minutes. It was the weight, Starry kept telling herself, the weight of her two breasts as they filled up, and not at all because she wanted to feel what it was like to have the space between herself and the ground filled by her soft, milk-stuffed bust. Not at all because her legs were quivering and her knees shaking, or her voice was trembling whenever she dared attempt to speak up. It was just the weight… until, of course, it absolutely was. It happened quickly enough that Starry didn’t notice the shift taking place: one moment she was making excuses for herself, the next she was legitimately stuck to the ground and incapable of pulling herself back up on account of her tits being full enough that they refused to be lifted. She did try to make eye contact with Veena, hoping perhaps that this would get the taur to do something… which it did, though not exactly in the way Starry would’ve hoped. Some help would’ve been appreciated, and indeed the Espeon “helped” in the sense that they relieved some of the pressure the vixen was feeling, but, as befitted the mistress of the house, they did so in a way that best benefitted them above all others: by clapping their hands and summoning a couple of extra milking tubes, both of which were rapidly, and suspiciously effectively plugged directly onto Starry’s engorged and already-leaking nips. The vixen thus had about a second or two before the next step of claps came, activating the machinery itself and more or less forcing her brain to hard reboot when the sensory overload made its way to it. Now, Starry had fantasised about being milked several times in the past; in fact, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit to doing so far more often than she admitted even to Hook, mostly when she was alone in the bathroom and could take her shirt off to imagine all sorts of torrid scenarios without anyone getting in her way. So to watch it happen, and so unceremoniously as well, was… conflicting. Part of her wanted it to “mean” something, in the sense that it should’ve happened with a little bit more gravitas and significance, while the rest of her was just happy that she was finally getting milked, and with a pair of breasts big enough to justify it! The latter half very rapidly overtook the former, especially when the pumps refused to stop working no matter how much milk they syphoned out of her; perhaps the worst aspect of it all was that, be it through the Rare Candy’s effects or some random quirk of her own biology, Starry didn’t look like she was stopping at any point. Sure, those like Veena had a tendency to overproduce, but they were hypers, and extremely well-endowed ones to boot; Starry herself might have had her occasional growth episodes, but her regular form was nothing if not… well, regular. So to have her milk production suddenly skyrocket like it had, and with two pumps attached to her as well, was enough to leave her well and truly insensate, enough so that she missed what was actually being done with the milk coming out of her. Typically, anything drained via the pumps would just be dumped into the holding tanks underneath the house; Veena was very particular in how she handled her excess productivity, especially considering how much of it there usually was, and never allowed any of it to be flushed out the same way water would, for instance. But for the two tubes draining Starry, the destination was not the same as the ones still attached to the Espeon; rather, the hostess had activated a very particular set, one meant to be used only for very special occasions, ones exactly such as that one. With a snap of her fingers, Veena opened another panel on the ceiling, not unlike the one that delivered the plate of candies just minutes prior. The platter lowered towards the Espeon, however, had upon it something different: a bottle. A bottle filled with a thick, white fluid, not unlike the one being pumped out of Starry on a rhythmic basis; perhaps, if the vixen had been more in control of herself, she would’ve noticed this, would’ve noticed how Veena carelessly took the bottle, then unashamedly chugged its contents like they were going out of style, a thin trickle of dairy flowing down her chin and dripping onto her topmost bust… a bust that almost instantly afterwards began to fill up. It apparently hit Veena about as hard as the candy had hit Starry, at least judging from how quickly her eyes bulged out and she sputtered out whatever milk was still in her mouth; looking down, it was clear the taur was not expecting what happened next, which, allied with her low mumbling that sounded suspiciously like a long series of “Oh god!”s, made it clear that, for once, she was experiencing something novel. For Starry, however, all she saw was the already-colossal set of mammaries the boobtaur sported bloating even further, taking up enough space on the ground that they began encroaching upon her, threatening to push her aside in their apparently unstoppable advance. The gurgling and sloshing coming from within them crescendoed to a climax before staying there and refusing to come back down, aggressively rumbling until the air in the room seemed to tremble with the vibrations coming out of that increasingly more colossal titstack; no matter how much the pumps worked, no matter how much cream they struggled to transport, there was always at least twice as much ready to be delivered, then thrice, then so much more until it was no longer feasible to even begin to assume the Espeon could be contained. Seconds, that was all it took for her tits to bloat up to nearly eight feet across, eight feet of stuffed dairy production of a level so ludicrous that Veena had actually reached something of a critical tipping point: she couldn’t output properly. Her teats were large, yes, big enough that most people wouldn’t be able to fit them in their mouth, but unfortunately for her, they weren’t enough to help relieve all the pressure from inside her, causing more and more milk to remain backed-up and force her to grow further as a result. And though this process did eventually stabilise when her inherent productivity wound down to levels that could actually be controlled, by that point each of her tits was nearly ten feet across, and the poor boobtaur was stuck sideways and almost buried by a row of busts of such immense weight that she could barely even breathe… all while Starry looked on, transfixed, stuck between wanting to reach out and grab the tiddy and dealing with her own problems closer to home. The vixen wasn’t nearly as large as her friend was, and still only possessed of a single pair, but that one singular bust was more than enough to keep her pinned down, being about as wide in its entirety as Starry herself was tall, and about three time as heavy, if not even more! The pumps, thankfully, were still functional, even if this only did more harm than good; it felt as if her being drained was actively making her produce more, presumably as a result of her body feeling like it had to overcorrect by producing even more dairy to fill her back up, since clearly her default state should be nothing short of “absolutely stuffed”. Now, why exactly the Espeon beside her was groaning and moaning like someone was doing unspeakable things to them, Starry had no clue, but she wasn’t about to ask any questions, not when she could be doing something more productive, like rocking back and forth atop her tits in order to further stimulate milkiness by way of draining herself faster. It soon became an automatic reflex, with the vixen not having to think about moving her legs for them to do all the work in her stead, moving her in soft, gentle motions at a rhythm that closely resembled that of her heartbeat. One inch at a time, one push at a time, she used her weight to press down on her bust and force the dairy out, giving her breasts more reason to fill up faster in order to keep up with the demand. The result? An ever-expanding set of tits that only ever bent her spine further, at least until Starry finally decided to get back on her feet and start living the dream of having a bed of breasts of her very own, one that only grew fuller with each second that ticked by. And as it grew fuller, so too did Veena moan louder, especially when she tried forcing herself back into something resembling a proper seating position; she obviously couldn’t reach the ground anymore, but she could at least try to place her tits directly beneath her, serving as a throne of sorts. It took a significant amount of effort, not to mention a whole lot of dangerous rumbling and groaning as the wall next to her and the ceiling above her head were used for leverage as the taur tilted herself sideways, a lumbering tree falling upwards with a long, heaving sigh; Veena’s cheeks were bright red, contrasting wonderfully with her soft purple fur, and with the sheer amount of sweat pouring down her whole form, one could be forgiven for thinking she’d just run a marathon rather than simply straightened herself out from a sideways sitting position. Then again, with that amount of boob underneath and in front of her, perhaps she could be excused… though the sudden look of greedy thirst stamped on her face the moment she looked down at Starry was, perhaps, less excusable. The Espeon didn’t even say anything; instead, she clapped her hands and produced a series of mechanical arms from the walls, leaving the vixen wondering if there was a specific pattern to her claps or if the taur was using her psychic abilities and keeping the gestures for the dramatic flair alone. Whatever the case, the long-inadequate pumps barely attached to the tips of Veena’s nips were removed, and a new set procured and installed in just a handful of seconds, perfectly plugging the Espeon up and leaving her ready for yet another round. Because she was going for another round, and there was nothing that Starry could do to stop her, not now that she herself was immobilised by size and paralyzed by pleasure overload. A small part of her, the tiny shred of sanity she still had left, was screaming at the vixen to stop and turn back before it was too late; the rest of her, however, gleefully shouted at her to throw herself off the cliff harder and forget about ever having any kind of self-control whatsoever. Hadn’t she already gotten that far? Weren’t her tits already so bloated that she couldn’t even move properly? Why turn around and try to undo this if it was exactly what she wanted, especially with her friend Veena being so gleeful about the whole process as well? The Espeon was even raving about her, saying something about her milk having “amazing properties” and making comments about Rare Candy that went entirely above Starry’s head; clearly, her lactic produce must be of superior quality, or else why would the taur look so happy after drinking some of it? Why else would Veena look so giddy when she summoned yet another glass bottle filled with cream, that time being careful enough to drink it down one small gulp at time so she could feel herself bloat even harder than before? Heavens above, the room was warm, so much more than it had been before, and yet all Starry could think about was how much hotter she wanted it to be, how much more heat she needed in there to truly drive up whatever it was she was feeling: pleasure? Bliss? A divine form of ecstasy? Hard to tell really, given the mixture of sensations coming from every form of sense she had, coupled with the overwhelming pressure within her bust. At least she had her own milking pumps to keep her safe and sound… even if she was still bloating no matter how much cream was pumped out of her. Even if Veena, too, was growing far in excess to what she usually did; something about “liquified rare candy!”, delivered with an enthusiastic note at the end and throughout, leading to the whole room being increasingly filled with Espeon boob, the ground flooded with a thickening layer of dairy that only ever seemed to get deeper, no matter how loudly the milking machines ran. That was fine though. She was fine. More than fine, in fact, judging by how warm and fuzzy her body was, how warm and fuzzy Veena was, and just how high the milk coating was getting. Soon enough there wouldn’t be any room left that wasn’t touched by the lactic blessing that was both of their brands of milk, seeing as even the enlarged pumps weren’t enough to keep Veena fully contained any longer. And it wouldn’t be long before Starry herself needed an upgrade, only to then eventually outgrow that one as well, going upwards and upwards until there wasn’t much left of the room besides one giant pool of milk growing ever greater and waiting to burst into the outside world. And she, Starry, would grow; grow and be bountiful, and milky, and big, and all-encompassing, and when Hook got to see her, then goodness would he be surprised. He’d jump right into the middle of those milkers and never leave, which was perfectly fine by her as far as Starry was concerned. Warmth and marshmallow, forever… or at least for as long as the candy’s effects lasted. Whichever came first. [a]BOOKMARK - 2500 WORDS

Tani’s birth had been the result of years upon years of careful genetic manipulation and animal husbandry in all but name, with their family ties being decided by committee somewhere in the vast halls of bureaucracy that controlled the Horizons Project; for most, used as they were to ​in vitro​ fertilization and the luxury of artificial wombs, the idea of a vixen carrying a child to term seemed almost alien, a relic of a bygone age that seemed oddly resistant to becoming history. For these people, the idea that a large section of their imperial government was dedicated almost exclusively to selecting genetic lineages in order to amplify specific traits over the course of several generations seemed utterly absurd, when their species had already cracked their own DNA centuries before, mastering the subtle art of transforming themselves in whatever way they saw fit. The main motivation had been the slight inconvenience posed by the complete and total ecological devastation caused by centuries of fossil fuel overuse, capped with a couple of nuclear exchanges that forced their population to evacuate to orbital habitats or vast, underground cities to escape the destruction of their ecosystem. With so few resources to spare and so many disparate systems needing tending to, genetically manipulating newborns to fit a singular purpose in life became the norm, even when their fledgling empire recovered from its near-complete destruction and rose to become a regional superpower. What most failed to understand, however, is that while their DNA was malleable, it was only ever allowed to be bent and reshaped up to a certain point; the ludicrous necessities and requirements involved in the Horizons Project’s line of work needed a far deeper and more intimate control over the circumstances of their test subjects’ birth than a simple artificial womb could provide. It wasn’t enough to pluck strands and change acid bases; if they wanted a proper terraformer, they had to start ten generations early. Thus, Tani was born. The Project had selected his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather some two hundred years prior for their exceptionally strong genetic resilience and high likelihood for beneficial mutation. As was standard procedure, they were submitted to a lifetime of gene treatments that would serve to increase the potency of their seed, hoping that, some time down the line, the pay-off would be as tremendous as their ambitions. In return, Tani’s ancestor was given a life of luxury that few, even living in the near-utopian conditions of their stellar empire, could begin to imagine; every one of his wants and needs, as well as those of his family, were tended to, no matter how seemingly ridiculous or far-fetched. This luxury was passed on to his child, then their​ child, and so forth down the line until Tani was born, the result of two centuries of hard work and careful monitoring. Of all those involved in the initial treatments, only one was still alive, a truly ancient vixen who had resorted to modifying parts of herself with mechanical augmentations in order to prolong her lifespan. She had made Tani her life’s work, and if she had to break the five-hundred line just to ensure he came to fruition, ​she would​. Not that his ancestry wasn’t filled with success stories; in fact, Tani’s father had been considered for the position his son ended up filling, but fell just short of the requirements when a genetic scan was performed. He still went on to become a colonial entrepreneur, preparing a vast empire-within-an-empire for his heir to inherit. The poor guy was under the distinct impression that his son would have any time at all to enjoy the fruits of his labour, and the Horizons Project took steps to ensure his belief wasn’t challenged; Tani was fated to become something far greater, of course, but if his father was made aware of it, he might do something ​drastic​. Thus it was that the young fox was separated from his parents at a very young age, as had been every other firstborn in his male line, to be prepared for a life of greatness. Unlike any of his ancestors, however, Tani tested positive for what the Project deemed the “terraformer gene”, an extremely recessive genetic trait that was borderline impossible to manifest by accident thanks to sheer probability. It was only a chance discovery by an unnamed vixen some six hundred or so years before that revealed its existence, and ever since then the Project had dedicated itself to maintaining several dozen lineages running at any given time. The top-level executives liked to joke that it was like brewing and aging whiskey; the grandfather would seal the casket and the grandson would get to taste its contents. This gene began transforming Tani very early on, allowing the fox to speed through developmental milestones that would take other kits months in mere weeks, already being able to walk when only four months old and mastering basic speech just before his first birthday. Every day was stuffed with activities meant to improve his already-heightened abilities, building on a strong foundation in order to prepare the edifice of perfection that Tani was supposed to become. Given the best tutors that money could buy, enrolling in any school would not be an option for the young fox; not only was it considered too dangerous to allow such an investment to run wild among the general populace, but the Project ​needed​ to make sure Tani received the necessary knowledge to perform his future job to exact specifications. ​Billions​ of lives would depend on his ability to do so, and thus there was absolutely no room for error. His days were carefully structured down to the minute, with his “fun time” being comprised almost entirely of pre-approved activities designed to further stimulate his mental faculties. Young Tani didn’t really care much for them; he might have been incredibly intelligent for his age, but he was still a child, and sometimes children just want some stupid fun to hold their attention for ten minutes at a time. Unlike other kits, though, Tani could ​make​ his own fun, and quickly learned that if he dolled it up as a “learning exercise”, he could get away with building entirely pointless toys that were, nonetheless, incredibly entertaining for someone with his kind of imagination. He figured someone must’ve been the wiser eventually, but seeing as he ​was building complex machinery out of bits of cheap plastic and replicated motors, several birds were being killed with a single stone. By his seventh birthday, Tani’s education, mixed with the terraformer gene improving his cerebral development far in excess to what anyone else would experience, had turned him into something of a small expert on the fields of science required to turn a barren, lifeless planet into a lush world teeming with life and waiting to be colonized; the list of which was so long that it would take even the young fox at least ten minutes to rattle them all off the top of his head, after which he’d say something about needing to study the latest developments and go enjoy some quality time with the databases. If questioned, they could recite entire encyclopedias by heart; if needled further, they could probably come up with some brand new scientific discovery just in the process of trying to explain another one. All of this put together confirmed the Project’s suspicions that Tani’s lineage might very well be the strongest they ever had the pleasure of working with, and if their mathematical models were correct… … well… Physical exercise was, of course, also an important part of Tani’s rearing; while the terraformer gene didn’t really start having any major effects until late puberty, nor did it kick into drive in earnest until its recipient was at least twenty years of age, it was important to get the fox accustomed to a healthy daily workout, lest he get lazy about it later in life. Cardio and endurance at first, then exercises meant for bulking once he became old enough, all turned up several time over once he became of age; it was important to take advantage of the accelerated effects of the gene while they still could, because while Tani would keep on growing throughout his (considerably long) life, it would be those first years of adulthood that really sealed the deal on what kind of scales he would operate on; the Horizons Project learned that the hard way. They needn’t worry when it came to Tani, however. On his 20th birthday, the fox towered above everyone else in the room, even managing to outsize his own father in that one rare occasion he was allowed to see his son again. The rooms he was kept in were considerably larger than normal, and yet the red fox managed to bump his head against the ceiling whenever he wasn’t paying attention, all twenty feet up in the air. For his main handler, the vixen who had first started the gene treatments on Tani’s ancestor, it was the culmination of two centuries of daily work, and for once in her life, she allowed herself to relax and enjoy some good cake. It tasted better than anything else she had ever eaten, and on that moment, knowing that her greatest project was in good hands, she declared she could die happy. Still took them another fifty or so years before the reaper came knocking, long enough that she got to see her little baby, all grown up as he was, do his best work terraforming several planets for their burgeoning empire. Tani, however, experienced the fastest and most drastic changes to himself and his surroundings after turning twenty, almost like some unseen god had flipped a switch and finally allowed his body to develop like it was supposed to. Not that he wasn’t already massive; as tall as those rooms and yet his width managed to surpass even his height, the fox needing to carry himself with extreme care so as to not destroy his environs without even realizing it. His body had become more packed, tight and rippling muscle than anything else, to the point where doors had to be replaced in favour of automated hardlight projections to cut down on repair bills. And yet, despite this, what Tani went through in the months following his birthday blew everything up until then clear out of the water. It all started when he began waking up bigger than his bed. Not just big enough to feel his feet poke out the sheets, but genuinely so much larger that the whole thing groaned underneath his weight. Every replacement they found for him met the same fate after a few days, until his bedroom itself began to feel tight and cramped, unable to hold such a perfect specimen as him. Being moved outdoors was the first indication that something big was going to happen, and it was only after he was informed of what the terraformer gene would ​do​ to him that all the disparate pieces of information he had stored inside of his brain all clicked into one picture. Tani already knew what his goal was and what their job was supposed to be. In a way, they were aware that they would have to undergo some very drastic changes if they were to be used as an organic terraforming station, it being slightly difficult to change a planet’s entire biosphere when they were just building-height. But the full extent of the changes required never really “hit” him the way it should; his handlers constantly occupying his mind with something else made sure of that, and it was only the freedom of his ascension that finally allowed him to comprehend the kind of scale he would be operating on. Gaining several feet in every direction became a daily occurrence, until it stopped being something he noticed if he paid attention every couple of hours and began turning into a semi-constant process; all Tani had to do was hold still for a couple of minutes and he would soon notice the difference between him and his past self. Within weeks, these minutes turned to seconds, and with his body growing so much that it would be bursting out of the compound within a matter of days, it was time to bring him somewhere where he’d have all the room in the universe to stretch out and fill up space. Literally. Space. One of the quirkiest effects of the terraformer gene was making their recipient vacuum-proof. So long as they were given a constant supply of oxygen in order to keep their bodies running, they could live outside the atmosphere of any planet just as comfortably as they would on its surface. Bringing him up to orbit was a pain and a half though, requiring several multi-stage rockets all assembled into a rickety and ​highly​ unstable self-supporting cluster that just barely managed to hoist Tani’s colossal frame off the ground and up into the sky. He was still growing mid-flight, hence why constant adjustments had to be made, at least until they broke free from the gravitational pull of their home planet; at which point, Tani could float around as much as he pleased, so long as he reported to the Horizons Project’s orbital station for an oxygen refill every couple of hours. He wasn’t even alone up there; with his body approaching the “final” stage of its development, Tani got to meet the Project’s other “long-term investments”, kept around in orbit until such a time as they were needed. Though their bodies reflected very little light, it was still common practice for amateur astronomers to try and locate where they were on their trajectory without resorting to high-end telescopes; Tani could only be proud for joining such a magnificent pantheon of gods among men. Of course, he also had a hard time hiding his sheer excitement at being larger than all of them; he had been told his genetic make-up was unique, even for someone with the terraformer gene, but never that he had completely destroyed the Project’s most optimistic predictions by several thousand miles. The biggest of his new companions was still only as large as one of his pecs, with the smallest one barely able to cover one of his nipples; Tani alone stood as the most gigantic of them all, eager to show off his strength whenever he had the slightest excuse. It wasn’t all fun and games and exhibitionism, however; he had been bred and raised to be a divine creature for a purpose, and that purpose was to expand the reach of their stellar empire to as many planets as it could get. Without any suitable opportunities for aggressive expansion, it fell to the Horizons Project to fashion new, habitable worlds out of dead rocks. And while some would say that it would be cheaper to just employ terraforming machinery to do the job those foxes were supposed to, the Project insisted that theirs was the most cost-efficient solution in the long-term; machinery breaks and requires constant supervision, potentially ruining a planet permanently if their specifications are even slightly off-target. Foxes like Tani, on the other hand, could not only be counted on for their initiative, thus bypassing the dangerous dilemma of using AI to terraform ​anything​, but their endurance; each one would be able to go through multiple planets without ever needing more than the occasional food shipment, in stark contrast to the constant demand for maintenance inherent to most standard machines. The very first job Tani was assigned to was indicative of the amount of faith the Project had in him; typically, first-timers were sent off to small moons, sometimes even larger asteroids meant for long-term mining operations. The titanic fox, meanwhile, was given the enviable task of terraforming the sole remaining uninhabitable planet in their species’ home solar system, located far enough away from their star that all previous attempts at turning the barren rock into something livable had crashed and burned spectacularly. “It’s not a make-it-or-break-it thing,” Tani’s handler assured him, “we’re just trying to test how far your abilities can go. If you can’t terraform Trondel, that’s perfectly fine; no one else has managed to do it anyway.” Despite the reassurance that his probable failure wouldn’t weigh down on his record, the colossal vulpine had every intention of trying his best; success was the only option, and with his body far outshining everyone else’s, it was insanity to assume that anything other than a complete and perfect terraforming would take place. His handler tried his best to temper the fox’s enthusiasm, reminding him of the immense list of difficult conditions that made life on that planet more of a pipe dream than anything else, but to no avail; regardless of how much he made it obvious that Horizons wasn’t actually expecting him to succeed, Tani assured him that he would. Not only that, but that he would do it in record time! Movement between planets was only possible for the organic terraformer via the use of vast solar sails, installed onto his body like a wingsuit. It still took him several months before he reached his destination, kept alive via shipments delivered in warp-capable ships, and by the time he broke through the atmosphere of the small outer planet, he had already grown big enough that he was perfectly visible from lower orbit without the need for special equipment. Trondel was a special case, there being several very good reasons for why it was left behind in the initial terraforming craze that had turned the rest of the solar system’s planets into lush paradises; it was so far away from their home star that each full rotation around it lasted over a thousand standard years, and possessed absolutely no atmosphere whatsoever. The only reason it was even considered a planet was its remote location and completely empty orbit; it alone stood that far away, the last thing left of their system’s creation before the spherical wall of ice asteroids further out. The first step towards making Trondel inhabitable by other members of his species was ​heat​. The whole place regularly dipped as close to absolute zero as a terrestrial body could get, and being so far out meant it didn’t have “days” per se as much as a perpetual starry night; in addition to the lack of sunlight, it was geologically dead, robbing it of any kind of usable geothermal energy. These two things alone were enough to make even Tani start doubting his previously-displayed confidence; the only way to even remotely heat the planet up enough would be to pump so many greenhouse gases into the atmosphere that anyone wanting to live there would need a pressure suit just to get around, and kickstarting the core just wasn’t possible given their current understanding of geology and planetary formation. A better solution was required. Part of the terraformer gene’s effects on a living being’s body involved the production of a variety of gases as byproducts of their regular biological processes. These were stored in hyper-pressurized glands and could be released with the terraformer’s breath at any point. Most of these glands were filled with the same kind of gaseous excreta common to most living organisms, albeit in vastly higher quantities, but a few held exotic substances that almost defied classification and proved to be incredibly useful for the sake of altering atmospheric conditions. Normally, planets that were difficult to heat up would receive a hefty dose of GH-56, a hyper-potent greenhouse gas several times stronger than methane and not nearly as short-lived; once injected into the atmosphere, it could be relied upon to stay around for at least two hundred years, after which it would be relatively simple to just replace it with more as needed. However, even GH-56 wasn’t enough to heat up that freezing space rock, and thus Tani needed to get ​inventive.​ Twenty-two years of near-continuous training and education on all matters concerning terraforming culminated in that moment, where he was expected to come up with an adequate solution on the fly based on what he had learned. A combination of gases would be needed, and not just a weird mixture; he needed to deliberately fuse their constituent molecule’s atomic structure together in order to create an entirely new greenhouse agent, one with a potency far in excess to anything their species had ever seen before. Something that could be used to capture the faintest of their star’s rays and amplify them until the surface was heated. It still took him the better part of three months of silent contemplation before he figured out what the chemical structure for the new gas would be, having to remind the Project that yes, he was still fine, and no, he hadn’t given up on Trondel yet. Back on their homeworld, the Board of Directors was beginning to show doubts regarding their greatest investment yet, with a couple even calling for outright termination if they refused to do anything but sit and grow larger on company time. All of these thoughts and more would be squashed as easily as Tani’s surroundings when the fox finally decided to ​do​ something. The ground trembled with each step, cracks and canyons forming whenever the fox stepped too heavily or just didn’t pay attention to what he was doing. This was irrelevant; most of the planet’s surface would be repaved later on anyway, to make way for a full lithosphere replacement, meaning he had the whole world to tread on without needing to care about the consequences. It was easy for him to do just that, being large enough that he could circle Trondel’s (admittedly small) equator in just a couple of hours, releasing heaps of his newly-designed terraforming gas with each breath. It was practically invisible, having only the smallest hint of white mixed with powdery blue, and rapidly dissipated into the thin-but-thickening atmosphere. As expected, it had the same effect as GH-56, except magnified by such an insane degree that Tani could feel the temperature rising in a matter of a standard week, breaking through the 100K barrier in only a single month! There was still a long way to go before it was anywhere near freezing, let alone liveable, but it was enough to quell any worries the Board of Directors had back on Tarana, with the oligarchs throwing a massive party in Tani’s honour. Tani himself was unaware of this festivity, far too busy being productive and making more room for his species to expand their empire into. He slowly built an atmosphere from scratch, having to contend with Trondel’s incredibly low mass constantly allowing those gases to slip into interplanetary space… at least until he gave up completely and started making quick “supply runs” to the vast halo of icy comets that made up the last orbitals before interstellar vacuum, sending them careening towards his terraforming project in order to add to its mass. It was a long, arduous process, and Tani threw his hands up after just a couple of months; the small chunks of stone and frozen water were very obviously insufficient for the purpose of adding mass to the planet. For that, he would need something more drastic. While his growth had slowed down compared to the ludicrous spurts of size that characterized the last few years of his life, Tani was ​still​ swelling over time, even if he wasn’t straining himself or… doing much of anything. This guaranteed that the terraformer could tackle larger and larger projects as time went on, or would if he weren’t already far bigger than any other worker in Horizons; for Tani, it just helped with what he had to do, even if the mental block was a far larger obstacle than he himself was. It was the only thing that genuinely embarrassed him about himself; the terraformer gene did a lot of weird stuff to his biology, but ​that​ had to take the cake in terms of sheer bizarreness: rather than more “typical” fluids, the fox’s cum had been replaced with a fast-acting, easy-setting expanding slurry, fit for covering entire landscapes in order to add onto them. It was like painting, in a weird way; except the “coat” was about fifty feet thick, rapidly adapted to what was underneath it, and was capable of turning even the tiniest of asteroids into a planetoid with just a few dozen releases. It was still a last-ditch resort; that kind of output not only put a great strain on the terraformer’s body, but it also had the “unfortunate” side effect of spiking their production to greater levels and then refusing to come back down. Tani even considered just giving up on the project altogether; being well aware of what he was about to do to himself, he had to weigh the pros and cons very carefully, lest he end up irrevocably destroying his ability to participate in further Project terraformings. He knew his main reason was built almost completely on his pride, his inability to admit that he might’ve bit off more than he could chew; there would be no shame in admitting he needed help, in telling his handler that, despite his best efforts, Trondel was just too small to retain enough of an atmosphere. On the other hand, he had the ability to fix that right there at his disposal, quite literally on the tip of his fingers as well; all that was needed was a little push, a little grope, and then a not-so-little climax later he’d be thickening the planet out nice and evenly. The best part about it is he ​could​ just ask the Board of Directors; they were constantly monitoring him, after all, using a subspace transmitter to maintain a live feed of his efforts. All he needed to do was speak up using his in-built cranial intercom and he would receive permission… but where was the fun in that? Eager to cut loose after more than two decades of rules and regulations keeping him locked in a reinforced glass bubble, Tani sighed when he sat down and brought his hands to his shaft; it had been increasingly difficult to ignore how needy it was, what with it growing about as much as the rest of him did and carrying underneath it a pair of balls so enormously overstuffed with the mass additive that it was a wonder the fox could even walk with those things swinging beneath him. The moment his hands touched the leathery, vein-covered skin, it was all over; no doubts remained inside of his mind, and he became absolutely convinced that this was the right course of action, regardless of what the dangerously loud gurgling emanating from his sack seemed to indicate. Courtesy of the terraformer gene, it was easy for Tani to start leaking, but extremely difficult for him to reach climax, a sort of “safety feature” to prevent unnecessary growth. With no one there to stop him, however, and the nearest warp-capable ship still at least an hour away from being able to reach him, Tani could relax and enjoy himself in ways that he never had been able to before. It was the first time for him; he was no saint, and knew very well how the whole process worked, but being constantly monitored every minute of every hour of every day made it impossible for the fox to explore his budding sexuality in any way that wasn’t reading about prepared lineages and arranged marriages. Thus, when he began stroking his cock, it was a whole new experience that even his hyper-developed brain didn’t quite know how to process. It was pleasure, raw pleasure, the kind that overrode rationality and poked at the most primal parts of his brain, ones the Project had worked very hard to suppress. There was a voice inside of him he had never heard before, praising the simple joys of self-indulgence and urging Tani to prod and grope harder with each passing moment. It didn’t matter that it would ruin the terraforming project and require months of careful sculpting just to keep it from falling into a lopsided orbit; with his shaft as hard as it was, worrying about his job was entirely secondary to getting off and enjoying every second of it. Whatever happened in between succumbing to self-exploration and reaching his climax was… uncertain. The sequence of events was shrouded in some kind of weird mental fog that refused to lift no matter how hard Tani tried later on, mostly because it had been finished off with an orgasm that literally shook the planet hard enough to almost tear it in half, followed by a deluge of the fox’s modified cum that carved vast grooves into the surface of Trondel wherever it landed, only to immediately harden and take on the characteristics of the surrounding terrain. The mindless release was powerful enough for some of Tani’s fluids to be jettisoned into low orbit, only to arc back down and slam onto the planet’s surface on the other side of it. Each load only added to Trondel’s size and mass, allowing it to not only keep a thicker atmosphere, but expanding the amount of surface area for future Project developments! Of course, this would have to wait until Tani was done working the surface of it into something that didn’t look like an abstract 3D sculpture. Space-scraping mountains neighboured canyons that plunged miles into the ground, interspaced with confusingly-arranged structures resembling solidified magma where the currents of cum had been particularly strong. It would be work for months, if not years, but at the very least it turned the small Trondel into a celestial body that would eventually shine like a beacon, the first to welcome any travellers into their species’ home; a herald of their empire’s perfection. … as soon as Tani dislodged himself from the thick cocoon he had trapped himself in.

Alannah woke slowly. It was a day off, and as much as she would like to do as many fun things as possible today...the soft, cool sheets and bouncy pillows seemed mighty 'fun' already. Her house was fairly big, and ludicrously posh given her income. It was a good thing she never gave the government a reason to question it or it would be glaringly obvious she shouldn't be able to afford the place. Her hooves clicked on the floor lightly, still clad in ornate golden filigree shoes. The shoes kept the segments together, but her hooves were uniquely comprised of three independent sections. They were dainty little things but for as small and narrow as her hooves and legs were- they were also very sturdy. She had very fine brown hair on her feet above the hooves but it faded away at her ankle to skin of the same shade, and then dappled back to her pale rose hue skin on her thighs. She was a normal human at work, but was...trying a new look on her days off. Alannah was still only able to open her eyes half way, looking at her reflection hazily past heavy lids. She brushed her dark blood red hair slowly, grumbling to herself every time the brush clacked against her horns. Sand colored and ribbed, the horns were more wide than thick and started on her forehead just in front of her temples, and followed the curve of her head to the back, about an inch off it. She thought it looked really cool at first, but it made keeping her hair proper exponentially more difficult. She wore nothing around the house but tossed a semi transparent sheet around herself from the bed and dawned it like a cloak. She loved the clicking of her hooves on the polished floor, it was a pleasant sound. She was tall but lean which gave her a beanstalk figure before she started tampering with it. The first change she had made was the pert handful-sized breasts...under her other breasts she had fattened from B cups to DD. The second pair even had their own constellations of freckles on them like the originals! The windows were closed obviously to hide her lazy nudity, but the place was still well lit from the sunroof and blue sky beyond. The gentle breathing of her friend gave her a smile as Alannah glanced her way. Lizabeth was asleep on the couch, having passed out watching television early in the morning. Alannah dashed into the kitchen to start working on a breakfast. She had plenty of time. Alannah just woke up, but Lizabeth was a night person- she would not wake for many hours. Liz woke up as the sky started to darken, and the remaining light turned colors and compressed against the horizon. She was quick to spot what woke her- Alannah's hand reaching slowly for her staff leaned up against the couch. "Don't." Alannah's heart skipped a beat as she recoiled. "Ah! So you're awake finally." Lizabeth did not move or open her eyes. "Slow waking up, eh?" Liz groaned, rolling over just enough to let her arm fall off the side to grab her staff. "You're one to talk, stringbean." After a long minute of silence Liz was done guessing what the smell in the air was and sat up to actually look around. She seen Alannah sitting on the arm of the couch looking back at her immediately but avoided eye contact and looked around the room more first, to avoid the mischievous smile. Lizabeth wore a simple white sweater and lean blue jeans. Her hair was very noticeable from some distance away- mostly because it trailed some distance away. Her hair was longer than she is tall, being at least seven feet long, a shimmering deep earthen brown. Her eyes were also quite the sight- they were semi-reflective pink, making the already vibrantly colored iris appear to glow when the light hit them, and also allowed her to see in utter darkness. Her staff was as tall as her, with a broad broken end at the top and a pointed end at the bottom, it was pitch black and had the texture of sandpaper. She never let anyone touch it. As soon as Lizabeth looked to her finally, Alannah was quick to start talking. "So! I was waiting for you to wake up because I wanted to ask about your sister's curse. I know you told me a bit before, but..." Liz sighed, going over the tale in a bit more detail. Long ago she and her sister lived in a place called Pieright which was near where they had been born. When humans settled there, her little sister became a foodie, snatching up whatever unique food she could find- determined to sample all foods. While she did no serious harm, Lizabeth was frustrated with her taking from the much weaker humans and never giving back. Seeing her nagging was falling on deaf ears, Lizabeth cast a curse on her little sister half from frustration and half from desperation. The curse forced her little sister to give back to the people, as on the day of their harvest festival every year, anything she ate was instantly converted to fat. The farther into the day it got, and the more she ate the stronger the effect became. It stopped when she finally gave up on trying to eat more, and then it converted all the added fat into pure gold- something the people of Pieright could make a fortune on, but had no use at all to the little sister. Alannah nodded enthusiastically. "Yea but...why did you get cursed too? I know you said it was karma for cursing your sister...but, why? You did it with good intentions." Liz glanced at her staff, seeing the faint glittering of runic arrays only she could see. "Magic follows its own conservation of mass- same as the rest of the universe. Think of most magic as using your will power to shape intangible energy into something. The energy is everywhere but so dispersed you cannot detect it- then apply your will power which thanks to your physical brain does have a shape- now you've given that energy a shape and purpose. But you are still taking something to convert, it doesn't just poof things into existence. All curses have a built in karma system so that whatever you do to someone, you must also suffer. Sometimes worse. There would be backlash from the energy taken up to use it regardless, but the runic arrays to help cast them were long ago modified to predetermine what the backlash is, as a form of karma. I knew this before casting it. My curse is almost identical to hers with only slight difference." Alannah motioned to her multiple breasts. "But you can fold reality now. Why don't you just take your body from a universe where you didn't get cursed and fold it into this universe?" Liz grinned a moment at her naivety and bopped her on the head with her staff. "Conservation of mass. I could do that, sure. But then what? My sister is linked to this too, what if she gets removed from existence, or we switch bodies? There will be repercussions and unlike magic, I am the only one able to tap fully into the multiverse so there are no set rules, no way to know just what the consequences will be." She grabbed one of Alannah's horns and wiggled her head back and forth with it. "Like how the larger your horns got the harder it is for you to think. I can do almost anything, but I keep it small and reverse it if I am done with the effects, so the backlash is negligible." Liz started to do stretches to fully wake herself up while Alannah slipped away to the nearby kitchen, returning to Lizabeth with a small platter. A very large cold ruby skinned apple, cut into ten slices drizzled with hot caramel, with a small but rich flower bud made of solid dark chocolate in the middle. Alannah explained that the ruby apples of Meridian Forest were her little sisters' favorite item at the Pieright harvest festival. Having been poking around out of curiosity she learned of the apple and managed to obtain one when it was still a bit emerald. It did look and smell delicious, so Liz thanked her, but was then also given a rather large wine glass. Excitedly, Alannah told her it was a hard to get pale wine made from the very same apples called Pieright White Ruby. She held out her own glass for a cheers. Liz sighed at her energy and decided to play along. Yes, she had no doubt Alannah went through some trouble getting this ready, and wanted to enjoy it with Lizabeth. Liz was also sure in all this research Alannah knew today was the harvest festival in Pieright- which meant Liz's curse was active. It was late in the evening since the sun was burning out and it was summer, which meant the curse was at its strongest, and alcohol was a heavy hitter. The wine was a sweet and mild flavor, though Liz could tell from a single sip it was also quite potent in its alcoholic content. Alannah would get drunk long before Lizabeth did however- her constitution was many times over what any human could manage. The apple platter was something else. The caramel gave off a warm, sweet scent while the apple was a refreshing, tart scent. When she bit into it the textures were also a perfect contrast. The slices had been refrigerated till serving so they were still cool and firm while the caramel was hot and gooey. The apple, unlike the wine made from them was quite powerful in taste and quite sour, electrifying her taste buds with each bite. Liz took her time with the chocolate flower bud, opting to gently suck on it rather than bite. When Liz finished she shivered slightly as a wave of warm tingles washed over her and she closed her eyes and relaxed while Alannah gawked at her in curiosity. Unlike her little sisters, Lizabeth's curse happened all at once whenever she stopped eating, which meant no fat gaining middle stage. Her stomach just started to press out a bit when her breasts were already gaining in weight, and turning from tear-shape to something more round. The sweater fit her well and betrayed no flesh before, but as her breasts firmed up the collar was pulled out just a bit, giving a small window into a dark chasm of cleavage. She felt the weight inside her pulling farther down, but knew it wasn't just gravity pulling on its increasing mass- it was actually changing location. Her curse wasn't identical to her sisters. Her gut rounded to a mild dome and then to a bit of a pot belly. Liz opened her eyes, thanking Alannah for the treat and was going to get up to go to the bathroom, but Alannah stopped her, insisting she just do it there from the comfort of the couch. With a bit of a shrug Liz agreed, undoing her jeans and sliding them down to her knees. The weight inside her was focussing now, becoming more compact, causing it to sink lower. She pulled her panties to half-thigh and let out just a bit of a grunt as she spread her legs a bit, cupping a hand over her hot pussy. It had turned pink and puffy in anticipation of its work, and as she pushed the heavy object managed its way out of her, practically flying out the last ways and popped into her hand. Only slightly covered in natural lube, Lizabeth held up the solid gold egg with a sarcastic 'tahdah'. Alannah was blushing brightly as she took the hot, and extremely heavy egg in her own hands, allowing Lizabeth the time to get her clothes back on properly. Unlike her twin headed sister, Liz transformed food to gold almost immediately. Not to avoid all side effects though, her body processes the gold using her womb- having the adverse effect of tricking her body into a very rapid pregnancy. Even after expelling the egg her breasts remained enlarged till she milked them dry, and her stomach would have a slight bump to it for at least a couple of minutes till the skin pulled taught again. This is where Alannah got the funds to buy her house, pure gold eggs, but this was the first time she actually seen Lizabeth make one! While Alannah was rolling the hefty egg in her hand, Liz attempted to slip out the back but froze when she seen the huge, covered plate on the counter. She had a sinking feeling that only grew as Alannah put her hand on her shoulder from behind. "Where are you going? You weren't going to just eat the appetizer and leave the meal were you?! I spent all day preparing this stuff. Your sister gets to eat all sorts of things today, you should get to celebrate your home town festival too, even if you can't be there right now!" Liz knew it was probably easier to just roll over and accept this. There was no question Alannah put a lot of work into this, and resourcefulness in getting the materials- and that was saying a lot for a person who couldn't be bothered to get dressed. Alannah wasn't a greedy person, she would find a use for the gold surely enough, but that wasn't her objective. Neither was feeding Liz a good meal though. Lizabeth found Alannah in a sorry state, she found a decent job by luck alone and a lack of talent left her with no choice but to do that one job forever. She had people who called her a friend, but no one she hung out with or did anything with, and she hadn't been in a relationship since early highschool. Liz became fast friends with her and gave her lifestyle a very obvious upgrade, but what she gave that was the most valuable was her time. Liz lived with Alannah for over a year now, always keeping her company and entertaining her with magic and her powers over the multiverse. THAT was the objective here. Alannah had a habit of taking things too far- she wanted to take advantage of the curse and see how far it could go. Or since she is bisexual, she might just want to see Liz all swollen up. Liz sat at the counter in the kitchen as Alannah lifted the cover on the huge plate and let out a huge cloud of steam. Yup, there she is going overboard again- enough food on the plate to feed an entire family and she expected Liz to down it all herself. The first section she dug into was veggies. A peach-colored veggie called a dagger root was the first item in her mouth. Baring a close resemblance to a carrot, it was caramelized to play off its earthy sweetness, and only cooked just enough to maintain the crisp crunch when bitten into. They were the sweet, but along them was also steamed cauliflower, that had their caps dipped in molten behemoth cheese. The cheese is known to smell rancid but had a heavy, delicious flavor, and Alannah portioned everything out well so its smell on this platter was negated by everything else- this was the savory. Finally as a bit of tartness, young fiddlehead fern boiled in water then very lightly sprinkled with sea salt and a drop of lemon juice. The stem was firm but the leafy heads were juicy and very earthy and bitter, which played to the tune of the lemon drop. Liz savored these as they were pretty uncommon. Fiddlehead ferns could only be picked in early spring- once they matured they become poisonous. By the time she finished her breasts were actually a tiny bit bigger, and her stomach slightly surpassing its last full size, making her look almost full term pregnant. The weight was in her gut though, and it wasn't congealing into gold yet, since she was far from done. As much as the meat portion made Liz's mouth water, she turned to the pasta, knowing it wouldn't hold its heat as well. The noodles were pitch black campanelle, with some freshly shredded parmesan cheese dusting the very peak. The sauce was pretty thin but quite flavorful, she had used sundried tomato with very tiny mushroom bits in it, knowing Liz was fond of both- though it was usually on her meat. The source was a bit on the salty side but still very nice. To help mop up the leftover sauce on the plate since it was thin, there was a hearty slice of garlic bread. Crisp on the outside and springy and moist on the inside, still holding the warmth of its creation. By the time Liz finished this section her naval was peeking under her shirt as it was forced up and she had to hastily pop the button on her jeans as her stomach really rounded out into a medicine ball sized sphere. Her breasts were hitting the E cup range by now as well, dragging her collar low enough that you could easily see her cleavage and the rotund inner curves of the breasts. They still had a slight tear shape to them but had obtained an impossibly round state one can only attain naturally by filling them to capacity with milk. Between inner pressure and slight arousal, her nipples were clearly visible through the shirt making tiny tents with their rigidity, they were not just erect but actually bigger and longer too, and have turned from pale brown to dark brown. It likely wouldn't take much more than the pressure of someone poking a breast at this point to cause overflow of the hot sweet liquid within. Their weight would be tremendous if her large belly wasn't already holding them up for her. Finally she turned to the best for last, the meat. Sitting in a colossal mushroom cap sweating butter on its inner sides was a three inch thick slab of behemoth steak, lightly dusted with herbs, and so rare it might still bleed when she bites into it, though the outside still lightly charred over a grill. Oh but that wasn't all- whole mini onions with a cube of poultry, and a slice of sweet bell pepper were skewered into six mini kabobs, held up by lancing them into the top of the huge behemoth steak! Liz leaned down and took a bite of the mushroom bowl without even using her utensils before yanking out the kabobs one by one. She bit into them so voraciously she had to be careful to pull it fully off the skewer so she didn't eat it too. Her little sister was a connoisseur of all matters of food, but Lizabeth was clearly a carnivore. She didn't care if it was still moving, if it was meat she ate it. The weight in her gut grew and grew but this portion of the meal distracted her too much to care. It looked like she was pregnant full term with twins at this point, forcing her back several inches from the counter to fit her belly. Each tooth creaked and popped from the zipper of her pants in their futile effort to hold back the swelling curve of her gut. Her breasts couldn't hold back the tide any more and wet spots spread from her nipples. By the time she was eating the huge slab itself her milk was coming out in small gouts, visible on the outside of her shirt in pulses, with each slight growth spurt. The shirt was worthless at this point, even when she termed to normal it would be so severely stretched it wouldn't fit anyone! After finishing the meat she leaned back and sighed as the groaning threads of the top grew loud and it quickly tore the collar in half- the rest practically exploded apart since the collar was the most solid portion. Her breasts spilled forward as fast as the top ripped, following its motion with a cascade of rippling flesh. Droplets of milk were tossed in random directions from all the jostling around. She shifted her seating to the front edge of the stool to lean back close enough to drink the juices collected at the bottom of the mushroom cap and eat the rest of the grilled cap itself. Her eyes went wide and she quickly grabbed onto the counter with both arms to steady herself and slid off the stool. Having finished, what was food was now turning to gold and the astronomical increase of weight nearly reduced the stool to splinters. She slid off just in time to only break the seat off the legs. If she was actually a human, she wouldn't be able to hold herself up even with both arms, her gut already weighed more than her entire body combined twice over! The bathroom wasn't even a viable option this time- sitting on the toilet or edge of the tub would utterly destroy them. She gently eased herself down so her back was too the counter and butt on the floor. She spread her legs as she was, knowing her panties and jeans were not coming off normally anyway- they were stretched too tight. For a moment she shifted the nail on her left index mostly back to its true form- a glossy black nine inch hooked talon sharp enough to cut glass. She traced a line down her pant legs and bursting seams followed close behind her claw. Once she cut her way out she leaned back farther and started to push. This time there was much more natural lube both before and during. It was awe inspiring to watch the massive bulge move down her body. It was lucky she had wide hips, she could feel the limit of her width on either side as the tremendous golden egg crested and with a final audible pop, made its way out firing across the floor, spinning and leaving a thin trail of clear slime as it went. It stopped after bumping the back of the couch in the living room area. The egg was the size of a large watermelon! If you threw this egg at someone's house it would annihilate the house. Alannah tried to lift the slippery egg up but couldn't do it. She could rock or spin it easily but it was too heavy for her to physically lift. She then quickly returned to Lizabeth's side. Liz was breathing heavily but wasn't hurt at all. The advantage of birthing eggs is they are all round and low friction, especially when they are smooth gold. The most unpleasant part was after the fact, the feeling of being utterly spent and hollowed out, till her body rebounded and returned to its old state. Alannah helped her up and shared her sheet with her as they curled up on the couch together to watch television the rest of the night. To help her get back to normal, Alannah rest her head in Liz's lap and helped drain her breasts of their sweet bounty. It was nearly two in the morning when Alannah started to get real sleepy, letting out a long yawn. A few moments later Lizabeth yawned and Alannah struck like a snake in waiting- flicking a red jelly bean into the open mouth, and Liz swallowed in surprise! Alannah laughed, but Liz failed to see the humor in it. Did Alannah really think Lizabeth hadn't caught on? The timing was far too perfect. Why was the last jelly bean still in her hand? She was snacking on them earlier but didn't eat any for a while. She yawned knowing it would likely make Liz yawn, even if she wasn't nearly as tired. Alannah pat her on the shoulder. "Oh, you're fine right? And it isn't like the curse will effect you- it only happens one day a year, and its been 'tomorrow' for two hours now." It was a good bluff, and Lizabeth explained it even though she was sure Alannah already knew. It was 11pm in Pieright, where the curse was set in place. It didn't follow their current time zone. Liz let out a hazardously disgruntled grunt and made for the back door. She was growing extremely fast compared to before because the curse is not only amplified by her having already eaten a lot, but also by how late in the day it was- 11pm is the latest hour it could be before turning over into the next day! By the time she made it to the back door with Alannah following close behind, she was already leaning forward heavily cradling the massive globe of a belly. Alannah couldn't figure out why she went to the back yard, her face looked concerned but she was still starry-eyed in curiosity. Liz sat in the soft vibrant green grass and spread her legs- the space between instantly vanished under her belly. It grew past her knees, pushed her breasts up and back at her chest making it hard to breath. The huge gut was nearly the same size as the entire torso it was attached to! Liz gave Alannah an annoyed glare. "See...the last size...was as big as my hips could pass an object through." She was breathing heavily. "This is even bigger. It is physically impossible...to get this out of me without slicing me open...and that isn't happening. And your entire house...isn't big enough for the REAL me." Her body seemed to turn to colored vapor, quickly swirling about and losing its shape as her true body emerged from the mist as if using it as a gateway. Each hand was big enough to cover Alannah's entire body alone, with hooked talons on each digit, though the general shape of them was still relatively human. Her head passed through quickly, trailing plenty of neck behind it. Her neck looked very bulky but was actually long and thin- the excess mass was huge steel-hard plate scales on its underside. If she arced her neck backward they would pull taught and lock into place, making her throat impervious to harm. Her eyes were a great deal larger, but their appearance remained the same, even on her long draconic head. Her mouth had a 'second cheek' membrane that opened horizontally to help clean her shark-like teeth. Though extremely long, her horns were very narrow, but the one on the right was only about nine inches long before it broke off completely. The 'staff' she carried in human form is her own blackened, severed horn. A mohawk-like stripe of very long feathers started on her head and travelled the entire length of her long neck- this is where her extraordinarily long human hair comes from. Her body was very long and serpentine, but had large muscular legs capped with huge half claw half hooves- the inspiration for Alannah's currently modified legs. Even in comparison to the rest her tail was colossal- as long as her entire body minus the neck, and just as broad as well. The tail was actually half as big as it appeared, as it was covered with giant plate scales that fanned outward more and more the farther down it went- allowing her to whip sandstorm level gales up by waving her tail. She had scales on her backside, down feathers on her underside, plate scales on the back of her tail and huge feathers on the underside of the tail. Both feather and scale were nearly identical in shape, but the scales were a vibrant orange with a golden sheen, while the feathers were a matte powder orange. Known as the autumn dragon, Lizabeth is the elder sister of Meredith and Maribeth. She had a few thousand years under her belt. She opened her mouth while still glaring at Alannah. Soft fine-grain sand started to fall from her mouth, as a earth attuned dragon she could breath her element freely. She paced in a circle, trying her best not to allow her distended belly to rub the ground as she very quickly assembled a nest of hot sand for herself. Alannah took a step forward when it looked like Liz was about to say something, but noticed her long slit-like nostrils twitching and turned away just in time. Lizabeth accidentally sneezed causing a gigantic explosion of dust in all directions. When the dust finally settled Liz was already on her back, propped up a bit on her elbows pushing the egg out, which compared to her current form was actually just normal sized. Alannah moved close to watch again, marvelling at the huge oddly still quite humanoid vagina. Dragons are somewhat enigmatic- being primordial creatures allows each to evolve to their own lifestyle making each and every dragon wildly different from one another. They lay eggs and usually look reptilian, but are also warm blooded. Liz's clit alone was as big as Alannah's fist. The huge pink flower of supple flesh finally passed the huge golden egg, allowing it to roll down the massive soft feather slide that is the underside of her tail and rest in the soft sand. "Wow, that one is huge and you passed it like it was nothing!" "Yea..." She was out of breath still. "Nothing. Why don't you sit here, feel how damn hot all that made me." Lizabeth motioned to her pulsing pussy, still a very deep pink from strain and wet with her juices. Alannah did not need a second invitation for that and hopped on up, sitting just below the opening, facing down the impressive tail. Before she could say a word about it, Lizabeth bucked her hip upward and brought her huge hand down on Alannah's shoulder, pushing her into the massive pussy! She tried to struggle but the muscular ribbing of Liz's passage pinned her limbs to her side. Her feet and head were the last out, and when it was only her head Liz locked her in place with her puffy lips, Alannah's now wet hair rubbing the huge clit her head now rest against. The dragon needed to do nothing more than gently hold Alannah's head down with the soft padded skin on the underside of her index finger. "So, like taking advantage of my curse hmm?" "N-no! It isn't like that!" Lizabeth clenched her pussy, causing it to suction on to Alannah, which since she was also nude suctioned her comparatively tiny pussy. Alannah lost her breath, squirming and whimpering with pleasure as the huge passage messaged her and sucked at her, while the outer lips locked her in place. "Then you better promise to behave yourself, eh mortal? Promise you won't do this sort of trickery again." Alannah trembled from the unrelenting feelings. "Haaah! Y..yeS! I...promise!" Her breathing was erratic and her voice kept spiking with the pleasure. When her entire body spasmed hard Lizabeth knew she came and let her go. She was slow to drag herself out of the plush, wet opening while catching her breath. Lizabeth returned to her human form, taking up her staff to wander around in the night. She carried Alannah to her bed as she had fellen asleep almost immediately after having a bath to clean off all the draconic pussy juice. Liz unbound the changes she folded onto Alannah's body from other realities, knowing she had work again the next day. Lizabeth glanced into the shifting runes in her staff, and just like Alannah her curiosity called her forward. But unlike the human woman, Lizabeth gazed into infinity- the multiverse is her toybox, and this night was only one of infinite possibilities.

(M x Vaporeon, willing cockvore) Ethen was very excited the day he stumbled on an alpha Eevee. Larger and more powerful than they would ever normally be, and so full of potential. So many different forms it could become. As an alpha it struggled quite a bit against him- not willing to accept anyone as a master without them first proving their worth. Ethen Eventually won and the Eevee was put on his team immediately. That had been some time ago now; the two made a perfect pair. Because it was so much bigger than a normal Eevee its fluffy mane almost made her look like a small lion! Ethen watched her carefully as they travelled together; her taste in food, how she fights, the spots she chooses to relax. He was trying to determine what to evolve her into. Unlike most other pokemon; Eevee can be a great many different things, but once it evolves it cannot de-evolve. Once he makes a choice, she is set for life, there is no going back. She likes the night but it seems because she likes cooler temperatures- not because of the dark, because on moonless nights she is easily spooked. So she isn't an Umbreon in the making, or a Flareon. When they camp- she enjoys fish the best it seemed. Proffers meat to veggie- not a Leafeon. Because she likes fish- she naturally watched Ethen while he was fishing to try and learn how, and Eventually plopped into the water and caught her own after many a failed attempt. It was that day that Ethen decided to buy her a Water Stone; her destiny is as a Vaporeon! Eevee are real small normally, so as an alpha she is the same size as his other pokemon, making Ethen forget just how much larger she is than normal. He was definitely reminded when she turned into a Vaporeon the size of a pony! She stands tall enough that the fins at the top of her head reach his neck- and she is a quadruped so her body is a lot longer than it is tall, and then she has a giant tail on top of that, that is even longer than the entire rest of her body. Her overall mass is a good deal larger than Ethen himself! She had always been the one he left outside of her ball, to walk with him. At first because he was proud of having caught such a rarity- an alpha Eevee! But after a while he became proud of her fighting prowess, and proud to call her his friend. Eventually he just did not confine her to her ball because he simply would feel strange without her company at his side. She surprised him the first time they set out after she had evolved; bowing her head and scooting between his legs, lifting him up onto her shoulders and then squirming him back! His Vaporeon is big enough for him to ride as a mount! Although her legs are not particularly long so his feet just barely clear the ground. The ridges down her spine are stiff but not what you would call especially hard, and though the ridge is made of triangular points- they have rounded points and won't actually hurt you. The ridge is about as stiff as a fingernail- pretty solid but if you push hard enough, you can still bend it. Eevee and its entire family tree both resemble a dog and a cat at the same time- but in the case of Vaporeon you can add fish to the similarities too. Unlike the others of its kin; Vaporeon has no fur, its entire body is smooth, soft flesh. The body is very much like that of a dog minus its fur, and its limbs end in a paw with only 3 digits and plump, springy dark blue pads on the bottoms for it to walk on. Its skin is a sky blue, but the stiff ridge on its spine is a base blue. The top of its head and the frame of the fins on its head are also base blue and stiff like the ridge- and almost look like a swimming cap. There are three rigid fins on its head- two replace its ears, translating vibrations in the air using the membrane of the fin. When it pulls its ears back or puts them down while confused, irritated, or angered; the membrane folds up like a paper fan. Vaporeon's neck is also surrounded by a frilly fin that creates a collar for it, and this is the only part of its body that is white. The frill is stiff, but still flexible- the membrane of it actually distills oxygen from the surrounding water, allowing it to breathe while submerged, while it uses its nose above water. The tail is tipped with a meaty, forked fin that is its primary method of swimming. Below the tail though, a black anus that is hidden against her pelvis and the base of her tail- looking slightly triangular because the base is pressed right up against the tail's base. After a short strip of flesh that is navy blue, it once again turns glossy black with a triangular vulva; a canine pussy. Her midriff is also adorned with six black teats in two rows of three. Her lips and her nose are glossy black as well. Like when it was an Eevee- the sklera of its eyes are hidden past dark, wide iris, so its eyes look solid black unless you shine a light directly into them. Like a feline; its face is a very short muzzle, and its lips connect to the nose by a cleft and turn up at the edge of her lips, making it look like she has a coy smile. Ethen actually owns three Vaporeon in total now- each with a different nickname so he doesn't get them confused. His shiny magenta colored Vaporeon Magentide, his original normal Vaporeon Tidal, and since his favorite is a large alpha- she is named HighTide. Vaporeon are so in tune with the water that they can literally become the water itself. She can plop into a body of water and completely disappear from sight- not just hidden from view but actually intangible from the water itself. This baffled researchers for the longest time- if it becomes the water, how does it reconstitute itself, how does it know what is water and what 'water' is supposed to be its body? If its brain is water, then it isn't a brain, so then without thought; how does it do anything at all? Vaporeon has an elemental affinity to water- it can summon and control water. Using that control, it is able to keep its consciousness active, bouncing the signals through the water molecules that were associated to its body, which also 'marks' them as belonging to its body. It has the ability Water Absorb- so there is nothing stopping it from taking in more water than it originally had and converting it into parts of its body to become larger than it is supposed to be, but because it isn't genetically imprinted the added mass will eventually evaporate. Now Ethen and HighTide walk along the winding trails north of Casseroya Lake in the Paldea region. Lots of water to enjoy here, and quite brisk too thanks to the cold mountain winds blowing down from further north. In the foothills there are many trails though that are not well travelled by humans, making it a nice, quiet area to set up a camp for a while. The lake a ways behind them, a river a ways to their left, and the ocean right in front of them- they set up camp in the shade of very large, tall trees. The only branches are high above so there is plenty of space between the trees to move around in while still being shaded from the direct sunlight. Because Ethen rides on her back- he can tell immediately when HighTide is acting strange. Little twitches of muscle, pauses in her stride. She has been spacing out a bit here and there even though she seems perfectly healthy- no virus, full HP, no status effects. He was setting up the picnic table at their temporary camp when he realized what must be bothering her. HighTide sat on a boulder that was mostly sunken into the ground near the edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean- she had to sit with her hips rolled back further than normal, to avoid sitting on her own engorged hotbox! A clit engorges like a penis shaft does- but the part you usually see on the surface is only a small portion of the organ, the rest spreads out around the vaginal opening like a pair of wings, so when it inflates and stiffens it shoves the already fat labia further out and forward! Her plump triangle of soft rubbery flesh was distended out from her rump like her body was trying to offer it out to someone to take! She is in heat! Well... that is unfortunate. Ethen only has two other pokemon on him at the moment in their balls and neither belongs to the Field Egg Group, so they are incompatible mates for her. Most of the Field egg group is made up of mammals, you know, like humans. HighTide watched the sun set on her stone perch before wandering back to Ethen only a few feet back, breaking sticks and tossing them into the fire pit to light in a bit. The sun had only just vanished so half the sky is purple, the other half still blue. A metallic orange glow on the horizon marked where the sun was last visible. HighTide steps lightly so Ethen did not hear her circle around him slowly, then with a smirk she whipped her huge tail and slapped him on the butt with her forked tail fin! "Ack! What was that for?? Using Tail Whip on your own trainer now?" Trying to lower his defense, perhaps? She quickly plopped her rump down while standing close to him, so she could look up at him from a lower angle. Her huge dark almond shaped eyes glistened at him with a needy look. Baby-Doll Eyes. "Aww, I know sweety, but I don't have any other pokemon with me that you would like." She stood up and did a half-hop, putting her soft plump paw pads on his waist and standing up on her hind legs, causing him to take a step back because she weighs so much, but the log he placed by the fire for them to sit on was behind him, so when he stepped back he fell over it! Wasn't paying attention to his surroundings... because she used Captivate. She practically slithered up onto him, slowly walking up his body, holding his chest down with her front paws now. She bowed her head, tucking her neck frill in and folding her ear fins for a moment while she brushed her cheeks up against his on either side, letting out a shrill, musical sounding chirp. A Vaporeon's voice is extremely high pitched but also melodic. She is marking him. Like a feline; when an Eevelution likes someone they brush their cheeks against the person, painting their scent on them. That way when other pokemon come around, they will smell the Eevee on the person and know that the trainer already belongs to someone else. Ethen was about to stutter a question but HighTide silenced him, touching her cool wet nose to his and holding it there a moment, looking deep into his eyes. She is using Charm. "W-wait you... you want me to...? Oh, I don't know, that would be... weird, wouldn't it?" By human standards, maybe. But she isn't a human. She doesn't care about whatever social stigmas he wants to attach to the act- she just wants a bit of fun and relief, that's it. No strings attached- she can't learn String-Shot. HighTide plopped herself down, pressing her pussy against his pants while keeping him pinned, looking into her eyes. Ethen blushed deeper as he felt the hot liquid soaking through his clothing! She is a water pokemon, so when her pussy gets wet it's like a fricken water park down there. He felt hot and flustered, his penis becoming erect quickly against his will from the hot moistness her pussy was inflicting on him and the feeling of her plush mound pressed into it. She used Attract- its super effective. She made a few jerks with her hip, tugging on his pants below- his penis barely contained in his pants when fully erect already. Once his dick was exposed, she lifted her left hind leg and pressed it onto the waist of his pants and kicked them down completely! HighTide leaned forward before pressing her crotch down and then shoving back, impaling herself on him while still keeping eye contact the whole time. He moaned and she chirped a musical tune again in pleasure. Her fat labia were like a soft rubbery pillow around his shaft as he sunk in till she took him fully and pressed them into his groin at the base. When she lifted off him, her labia stretched rather than slide off, pulling in tighter as if her pussy was actually sucking on his dick, and she stretched for a good inch before her labia actually started to slide off, but before he was even half out she landed her full weight back down and plunged him back in fully! She is so wet the pussy juice trails down, tickling his balls before it drips to the ground- the sound of him penetrating her a rather loud *shulk* sound. She was using Pound on him for a good while, pausing and shuddering several times in orgasms of her own without setting him off. Being in heat- her pussy is extremely engorged and all the nerves yanked tight, making her extremely sensitive and easy to set off, but also craving much more than normal to satisfy herself. Her front paws are pressed so firmly into his chest that even through his shirt she was making a reddened imprint of her paw pads on the skin of his chest. Ethen had never seen her quite like this before, and they have been together for a long while. Her facial expression almost looked ravenous- delirious with horniness. He pushed a hand onto her midriff as she bounced on his lap- her own movement caused all her teats to brush over his hand back and forth without him actually moving his hand at all. They were as stiff as possible- flicking her teats is like flicking a door-stopper; immediately springing back into place. The pleasure of being penetrated was a dull but powerful and resonant feeling that echoed through her whole lower body with every pass in or out- but his hand on her teats is a sharp pleasure concentrated almost entirely in the teats themselves, making her squeak in response. She practically had hearts in her eyes when she came to another shuddering orgasm and paused a moment as her physical strength left her as the pleasure shook her. Her pussy drooled heavily in bliss, absolutely soaking Ethen's crotch and lower abs and the ground under them. As her pussy stopped trembling she felt how rapidly his dick was throbbing and knew he was close too, wearing a coy smile. She lifted herself up and pulled off slowly. Her soft, flexible canine labia hugged his dick tighter as they formed a weak vacuum seal- so the further you try to pull them off the tighter they grip. His glans flared which gripped her even better, allowing her to tug harder without risking popping off entirely. She slid up to just the glans of his penis and made several micro thrusts- causing her pussy to suck on his dickhead! His pleasure spiked rapidly and with a moan he thrust up to plunge fully into her as he climaxed, and then she sat her weight back on him, slamming his hips back onto the ground. She lifted her forepaws up in a puppydog pose and her head lulled back as she reveled in the feeling of his hot cum coating her insides. HighTide's thighs got a tiny big larger, and the sky blue started to fade a bit toward baby blue! His ejaculate counts as a Water type attack... Water Absorb assimilated his cum into her own biomass! Before he fully stopped cumming though- it felt like something had blocked it from escaping! His urethra bloated with the cum that could not escape... and then it backfired! It flowed backwards and his orgasm was not forcefully extended! She orgasmed many times- HighTide did not want to leave him high and dry. She was going to give him a little something special- something only a Vaporeon would be able to do. Normally muscles contract to block things from being able to enter through that way- but she started to flow in when he was blasting out, so his own body opened the flood gates and she got in before they could close again. Now because cum is flowing backwards, the contractions of his dick throbbing almost feeling like his cock is actually gulping down a drink! It was not just cum though... it couldn't be- more was flowing into him than what left him in the first place! Her own juices were flowing into him too! His back arched and he groaned long and loud at the feeling. His urethra bloated with all the liquid flowing into him, his taint, his prostate and even his balls started to inflate! His cock hungrily gulped down more without Ethen being able to control it at all himself! His prostate filled like a balloon, pulling taut with liquid pressure, sending orgasmic signals through his body, but he could not stop the flow so the pleasure did not stop or taper off- it wasn't his body controlling the flow in the first place! His balls felt so tight, and then started to feel heavy! His scrotum started to pull smooth from its contents swelling up! He could hear faint stretching sounds as his ball rapidly engorged on all the fluid being fed into them, and he even heard a faint gurgling sound!! His balls started at the size of a chicken egg each, then bloated to a tennis ball in size, then a softball, then a cantaloupe, and still growing! His scrotum blushed pink from being rapidly stretched, but while it looked like it should start hurting it did not. The fluid is saturating into the skin cells as well, making them more flexible, more... fluid. His cock bucked inside of her, throbbing powerfully, taking massive gulps of the fluid she keeps feeding him. His eyes went wide as he realized she was starting to look... leaner. Oh shit. A Vaporeon is able to turn its entire body into liquid! She is using his cum as a blueprint- she is turning her entire body into cum and feeding it into him!! He tried to get up in a panic, worried that there was no possible way she could fit inside of him, but his legs were still crooked over the log making standing difficult- plus she was still sitting on his crotch undulating her pussy around his cock to encourage it more to drink up! The base blue on her body started to fade to sky blue, and the sky blue faded to pastel blue. She is becoming creamier! Her body slowly starts to shrink as his balls continue to bloat! His scrotum now perfectly smooth, pulled taut around testicles the size of a medicine ball each, and just as heavy as one too! His dick started to press into the sides of her pussy more firmly, and slowly but surely it started to rise up deeper inside of her. Now only is she very slowly shrinking- his dick is growing! It is getting fatter and heavier too! The urethra stretches even wider, allowing it to take larger gulps of fluid. The same muscles that are supposed to blast the fluid out are now helping to take it in. HighTide popped off him so suddenly he did not even see her start to move. He wheezed from the feeling as his dick's throbbing started to slow finally. Her control over the fluid still prevented it from being able to get back out though. She flashed him a sultry glance as she turned around and looked like she was about to walk away, but then she flicked her tail up and her forked fins wobbled and broke apart into globules of liquid a moment before wobbling through the air and re-joining the only half-solid tail! She then drove her tail down with pin-point accuracy and speared the slit on his glans perfectly, shoving her tail into his urethra! His pleasure spiked and his dick throbbed powerfully, drinking in a long draft of Vaporeon tail, which then caused another pleasure jump and his dick to throb again! Oh no, he is starting again! The throbs came faster and faster, which only sped up the flow and caused him to return to a full inverted-orgasm! His cock gulping ravenously at everything she fed into him! The body of a penis shaft is like a sponge- it engorges on blood normally... but there is nothing stopping it from being engorged from any other liquid pressure. HighTide is saturating right through the walls of his cock to bloat the entire thing larger in addition to his balls! His veins were almost as thick as a finger, forced wide to make room for more sentient cum! His shaft felt so tight he thought it was going to pop like an overfilled balloon, but it never started to hurt, and continued to stretch bigger beyond anything he thought possible. Starting to get long enough to measure in feet instead of inches and as thick as his arms, his cock continued to enlarge as she shoved more of her tail into him and used it to feed mass from the rest of her body- she is shrinking a lot slower than he is growing, because cum is less dense than her solid body so it's a good conversion rate. His glans stretched so tight they looked shiny- bloated to the size of a massive apple. His dick started to get obese looking with all the fluid it was gorging on, getting thicker around the middle. His urethra kept flexing wider, allowing larger amounts of fluid through at once and causing the contractions to create even more exaggerated gulps. He felt the liquid pressure up through his taint and bouncing off his prostate before it deflected and managed to settle into his cock and balls. Each testicle now the size of a pumpkin each! His shaft started to bloat wider than his glans, making it appear extraordinarily full. His entire body undulated when his cock gulped, from the force of such a powerful contraction and from the influence of so much pleasure bursting through him. His balls swelled to yoga ball sized each- forcing him to spread his legs as far as they could go and still could not fit them; so eventually his legs rest on top of his balls. Even if she got up off him he had no chance of standing up anyway, his nuts weigh more than he could possibly carry. The length of his legs crooked over their curve did not even cross the halfway point on his balls. He could hear muffled gurgling and occasionally a quiet rumble from his balls! His shaft is as thick as his entire torso now!! His urethra alone is as wide as his arm! He could fist his dick at this point. His glans did not grow much larger past a very large apple in size though, and even with the shaft forcing them to stretch a bit wider; it still looked comically small in comparison. Even without seeing its size; just looking at its proportions you knew his dick was immensely bloated. He felt the veins in it squirm a moment, like she was trying to find more room but not succeeding. HighTide pulled her tail tip back out, turning around to admire her work. Ethen was only breathing in short, rapid gasps, his eyes wide but looking at nothing- his brain whiting out in unstoppable pleasure. She was a bit small for a Vaporeon now, instead of considerably larger. She stood up to kiss his impossible tight glans and then grabbed onto the corona with her paw pads and pulled herself up! Her entire body rippled a moment and the last of her coloration seemed to fade away, turning her into a solid white Vaporeon! She kissed his urethral opening and then pressed her face into it, wiggling her head back and forth before her face slid into the tremendously wide urethra! Ethen moaned loudly, digging his fingertips into the soft soil under him; clenching his hands in intense white-hot pleasure! She shoved forward even further getting her entire head into him, then squirmed more back and forth till her shoulders popped in too! Once she had her amorphous paws inside she was able to grip his urethra on the inside and pull herself in! She is only half-solid at absolute most so her normally stiff fins and ridge slide past easily without doing any harm at all. Even with her urethra bloated to impossible proportions you could still see her silhouette perfectly through it as she shoved her entire body inside of his cock! Once her tail was inside she was able to flap it up and down like she were swimming to slither further down, turning more and more into liquid as she went, which caused her to expand as her biomass loosened. She stalled at the base of his cock- where the muscles contract the path. She cannot pass here without being full liquid. After a moment of the pressure building at that point- Ethen wheezed from the feeling as it suddenly surged past! His balls started to bloat up massively- very, very quickly! They made loud gurgling sounds as her remaining mass turned to liquid and split itself between the two balls since his shaft could not expand any further even with her influence. His legs were forced up further by the expanding curvature of his nuts! They were each big enough to fit a full grown person inside of them! They were starting to look like one of those obscenely giant faire pumpkins!! The sensations finally started to slow, and his obese monster of a cock finally stopped gulping for more. Ethen stared at his monstrous junk absolutely shocked and bewildered for a moment. He only had a minute to admire her handiwork before the muscles in his groin started to involuntarily contract. Uh oh. His prostate started to pulse- the pleasure was starting up again without him even doing anything! His dick bucked with so much force it actually yanked his hips up with it as he absolutely exploded with cum! The streams of cum were as thick as his arm and had a dense consistency like glue! The first shot arched so high in the air it tagged the bottom of the leaves on the high canopy above and hit the ground five feet past his head with enough force that he felt the vibration in the ground! As his balls started to shrink down his shaft started to regress a bit as well... but his shaft shrinking back down caused his urethra to also diminish in girth- which meant less liquid could escape him. This caused the cum streams to become almost violently powerful, and very long, with very brief gaps from the contractions in between! It also caused his orgasm to get longer and longer because he could not move as much cum out of him, and the more that exited the less he could get out. Five minutes pass and the entire camp looks like someone put a hand grenade in a can of white paint. Ethan has to turn his head several times blowing bubbles in a layer of cum coating his face to try and clear his breathing passages at least while his orgasm just keeps going! Ten minutes and it finally starts to slow down to a regular orgasmic levels, but just keeps rolling on! After fifteen minutes he finally stops ejaculating. It feels like his entire body was just hollowed out. He feels like he weighs absolutely nothing, and has absolutely no strength left in him. Even if he still had his strength he could not get up because the layer of cum painting him against the ground is so thick and heavy it's pinning him in place like a cocoon. There are strands of sticky white connecting several trees together at various points where pillars of hot goo blew past. The entire outside of his tent, the ground around the entire site, the fire pit, the table- everything was just white. The cum seemed to come alive suddenly, lifting in several points and spiraling in, converging on a single point and forming a vortex of cum for a moment. As if it had never been there in the first place- the cum lifted up off everything started at the edges of the explosion site and moving inward as the vortex gathered and condensed the mass, slowly white turned pastel blue, then sky blue. HighTide finally reformed from all the cum at the center of the camp, and gave a happy chirp at the exhausted Ethen as if to thank him once more for helping her get off. Ethen would remain on the ground there for over an hour, his thoughts utterly whited out- like cum. ----- Ethen was browsing a pokemon breeder's forum two weeks later, and seen an interesting thread. USER123: Hey, is it normal type for ur pokemon to... come on 2 u? Romantically? My Pikachu seemed like she wanted a Peek-at-me if u know what I mean... wat do? IPLANK: If she is attracted to you, then sure. Maybe she has a human fetish? WonOne: lol. I mean; don't jump the gun, and whip your dick out because she bat her eyelashes at you. But if she is grinding up on you and quite obviously wants it, then sure. I don't see why not. IPLANK: Human-pokemon marriage is canon. USER123: Ok, so I shud just... go with it? WonOne: If you also want to, yes. It definitely isn't a requirement of a trainer- don't feel like you HAVE to. BOTH parties have to consent after all. FuriousGeorge: I actually had some romantic flings with a Malamar. All those tentacles. Feels good, man. IPLANK: Had? What happened, she dump you? FuriousGeorge: Things went Topsy-Turvy. IPLANK: rofl. USER123: lol ETHEN: Hey guys, did you know that in terms of human x Pokemon breeding; Vaporeon is the most compatible Pokemon for humans? Not only are they in the field egg group, which is mostly comprised of mammals- Vaporeon are an average of 3"03' tall and 63.9 pounds, this means they're large enough to be able handle human dicks, and with their Base Stats for HP and access to Acid Armor, you can be rough with one. Due to their mostly water based biology an aroused Vaporeon would be incredibly wet, so wet that you could easily have sex with one for hours without getting sore. They can also learn the moves Attract, Baby-Doll Eyes, Captivate, Charm, and Tail Whip, along with not having fur to hide nipples, so it'd be incredibly easy for one to get you in the mood. With their abilities Water Absorb and Hydration, they can easily recover from fatigue with enough water. No other Pokemon comes close to this level of compatibility. It is the Best Mate. FuriousGeorge: Based. IPLANK: Bro in here writing a whole-ass story.

It wasn’t the most regular of requests, but then again, Andy wasn’t exactly used to things being simple; he just didn’t expect those two to be the ones to ask him to do this. As far as he was aware, Daisy and Dave had a perfectly functional and extremely fulfilling sex life, at least if all the stories he heard about them fucking so hard the neighbors heard and then had to call the police, who promptly chose not to interfere after hearing the noises themselves, were even remotely true. Whenever himself and Rebecca got together with them, they seemed nothing if not perfectly happy and satisfied, which is precisely why, when Daisy called him and asked if he could help them with a “personal, private matter”, the fox was more worried than anything else; never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that this friends would be asking him for help in that particular area of their relationship. “I understand if it’s too much to ask,” Daisy concluded her little speech, “I understand if it’s… weird, or if you’d rather not do it for some reason, but we’ve… w-well, we’ve heard the stories, and people talk, so we thought that maybe you’d be willing to give us a hand…?” Andy couldn’t help but smile at how embarrassed and sheepish that cow looked and sounded, especially when right beside her, Dave was looking down at him as he would stare down a particular poorly cooked meal. The bull was making no secret of the fact that he didn’t think of the fox as an adequate replacement for whatever idea he had in mind, but then again, he had agreed to do this along with his wife, so it wasn’t as if he wasn’t entirely receptive to the idea to begin with. “It’s not weird at all!” Andy responded, “I was just surprised that you two would need hel-” “We don’t need help,” Dave butted in, “we’re more than capable of making the neighbors go without sleeping if we want to, but we can’t exactly get this done without… outside assistance” - the last two words very clearly came at a great mental cost - “I just didn’t expect Daisy’s first pick to be someone who couldn’t even lift my arm if I dropped it on him hard enough.” The cow looked aside at her partner with a stare that would make even the strongest of bulls shrivel, but only made this one scoff, roll his eyes and stare at the wall to avoid an argument. It was clear that the large man had been expecting someone at least as big as him, if not outright bigger, for the purposes of playing into their infidelity fantasy; that his better half had picked someone as seemingly scrawny and utterly underwhelming as a fox that looked incredibly out of place in their upsized house was nothing if not embarrassing for him, as it made him wonder just what kind of ideas Daisy had about his virility and potency. Surely, he thought to himself, she couldn’t think so little of him that she thought someone like Andy would be able to play into the cuckolding angle in any acceptable way? Unbeknownst to the bull, the fox had plenty more tricks up his sleeve than it would initially appear; in fact, it wouldn’t be the first time he accidentally barrelled through a wall or crumbled the roof whenever he and Rebecca got together with nothing to do for several hours other than go at one another like a pair of very horny rabbits in mating season, and it just so happened that he knew which strings to pull in order to keep things quiet. Even then, just like Daisy said, word got out and “people talked”, so it wasn’t altogether unusual for Andy’s unique “services” to be requested by couples who wanted something special to spice up their sex life, or single individuals who really just felt like experimenting with size differences. Both the fox and his lovely vixen had plenty of fun whenever threesomes or foursomes were on the menu, which is precisely why him being asked to come in alone for some infidelity play was so unusual that it left him unable to process it properly for a long while. Now that he knew that he was safe though, there was really no time like the present to get down to business and show the happy couple just what he was capable of. Andy wasn’t one for theatrics or grand displays, and instead much preferred to skip directly to the point in order to give his would-be customers as best an experience as he could… but that day felt like a different day. He wasn’t dealing with two people who were very much onboard with the idea of bringing in a third (and-or a fourth), nor did he have a single person whom he could give his undivided attention; his was a unique situation, staring down a couple who did want someone like him to be there, but just so happened to disagree on whether or not Andy would fit the role of a good “bull” like they had envisioned in their more private hours, fantasizing about a hypothetical giant of a man who would be able to dwarf even Dave, despite them being so tall that they occasionally managed to scrape their horns against the ceiling despite it being elevated to fit both them and Daisy. Andy figured this might be the case, hence why his friend was so reticent to accept him as an adequate replacement for his own idea of what a perfect cuckolding would be, but he knew he could provide; he just had to show off a bit. Of course, this didn’t mean that he’d slow down compared to his usual fare. He still hopped onto the bed, surprising Daisy who was probably expecting some sort of planning before the three of them got going, maybe even asking Dave to leave the room so he could “catch” them in the act; instead, what she received was a very handsy fox who, despite his eagerness to get started, nevertheless was quite good with how he used his fingers, especially considering just how much bigger she was compared to him. She felt like asking where he learned how to knead her tits like that considering that Rebecca was so much smaller, but felt like it’d be too rude to do so… well, that, plus the fact that Andy’s fingers were expertly playing with her nipples after he moved his hands up under her shirt and she didn’t really feel like talking so much as moaning quietly and letting out a few unconscious moos, the sensations coursing through her stuffed udders being powerful enough to elicit a reaction that usually took Dave quite a bit more effort to coax out of her. It was part of the fox’s plan, really; from what he knew of their sex life, he could only guess they usually got to rough parts a lot quicker than they did the more careful and deliberate ones, so if he spent some time tenderly caressing and really priming that cow before taking any further steps, then he could really get under the bull’s skin. He even made sure to stare at him with a sideways glance whenever he could, mouthing the words “Wish you could do this, huh?” the moment he got Daisy to start openly mooing without even trying to hide it, all with nothing more than his index, thumb and a pair of swollen teats. Surprisingly, this only made the bull roll his eyes even harder, though he did get up and start pacing around the bedroom in front of Andy and Daisy, arms crossed and looking down at what the vulpine was doing to his wife. He couldn’t tell what the fox was whispering in her ears, but he could only assume it was nothing good when Daisy opened her eyes and looked up at the bull, eyes fixated on her husband, trying to say something and yet unable to get the words out before a moan or moo got in the way. Andy, meanwhile, was happily nibbling on her neck and moving his hands in ways that would ensure his new lover would never be able to get the words he instructed her to say; it was an exercise in futility, because even if she managed to beat out the arousal and force herself to utter them, all the fox had to do was squeeze those nips a bit harder for her willpower to break and her back to arch outwards even more. It gave him plenty of opportunities to pull her shirt above her head, to unhook her bra using his teeth and then allow it to fall off, giving Dave a perfect view of his wife’s chest-obscuring udders being expertly toyed with and milked by a pair of hands that clearly knew what they were doing, leaving the cow an incoherent mess that, bless her heart, still tried to do what Andy asked her to do. The fox, meanwhile, kept giving Dave a few looks, hoping to coax him into saying or doing something stupid. It was clear from the bull’s expression that his doubts were beginning to crack, but even still he refused to budge; he kept pacing, kept mumbling to himself, occasionally allowing his voice to rise just enough for him to criticize Andy’s pace, tell them that they were “doing it wrong” or offer some advice on how they should bulk up before thinking they could compete with the likes of him. Comment after disparaging comment on how the vulpine would never be able to match the bull’s own strength and stamina, not until they stopped with the “baby stuff” and got down to the real fucking, the real bed-wrecking action that often made his own neighbors rue the day they chose to live anywhere near those two bovine horndogs. Andy said nothing; he knew full well that if he shot back at Dave then he’d just be playing into their hands and giving the large bull exactly what they wanted: a reaction. It was much better to just keep doing what he was doing, bringing Daisy closer and closer to orgasm with each of his motions, her legs already rubbing up against one another and ready to gush once the ministrations on her tits got strong enough; for Andy, the biggest victory at that point would be helping the cow climax without using anything other than his fingers, a clear display that if there was anyone in the room that knew what they were doing in terms of pleasing a woman, it was him and not Dave. He knew this, and he knew that the bull knew it too; hence why their biting commentary and occasional snarling were getting ever more vitriolic the closer he felt their wife was getting to going over the edge without that “runt” even so much as dropping his trousers. It was utterly humiliating, just like it should be. And Dave didn’t know how to deal with that. As much as stamina was something that both bovines had in ample stores, there was only so much that the poor cow could take before her body collapsed inwards from the stimulation. It didn’t take an hour-long rutting session or a bed snapped in half; merely the application of the correct amount of force in the right place, at the right time, in just the right way to make sure that their defenses crumbled and their mental fortitude was turned to dust, leaving Daisy wide open for any kind of finishing blow to leave her dazed and lust-addled enough to smack headlong into a brick wall and orgasm without anything between her legs. And, seeing as she was a cow, those tits of hers were already quite sensitive even without any added bonuses, and given how she hadn’t emptied them at all that day, not only were they quite a bit larger than usual, but so receptive to any kind of tactile stimulation that they were probably more of a weak point than her nethers. It didn’t help that Andy refused to let her play with herself either; every time she moved a hand closer to her lower lips, the fox would slap it away and give her a small grunt, letting her know she was not to do that unless he allowed it, forcing her to make do by rubbing those fat thighs of hers together and gritting her teeth with her eyes closed, no longer even capable of mooing. She felt it approaching, looming over her and ready to descend upon her frail self with the force of a thousand ocean currents, and after a few more minutes of Andy’s expert handling, there she had it. Everyone in the houses next to theirs heard Daisy when she finally climaxed, the noises being loud enough that even Dave was taken aback by it, leaving the fox as the only person present who both heard it happen and didn’t react to it in any way; what he had just done was barely even step one, so why should he rest on his laurels? That right there was evidence that he knew how to treat Daisy better than her husband did, that he was perfectly capable of achieving in a handful of minutes and with two hands what took the bull over an hour and his whole body to accomplish, what with his brutish attempts at hammering through both of their bodies’ stamina reserves instead of giving his beloved cow the sort of tender, careful attention that she needed. And this was exactly the message Andy gave the bull when he brought his head down to one of Daisy’s leaking nips, took several deep gulps, and then pulled his head back with a contented sigh as he smacked his lips and finally allowed the cow to fall backwards onto the bed, exhausted and gasping for breath. With that taken care of, it was simple enough for Andy to hop off from the bed and walk towards the bull, giving them the biggest, widest, smuggest grin that he could muster, all while extending his hand as if asking for a handshake. The gesture was designed to obfuscate his true intention with such an unwelcome and unexpected display of cordiality that Dave’s brain would short-circuit trying to understand it and simply resort to the automatic response whenever someone wanted to shake their hand; and indeed, though their face contorted into something resembling a grimace, the bulls’ body seemed to move on its own as he reached for Andy’s hand, holding it so tightly in his own that it should have been painful… for the fox. Instead, the moment the larger male closed his fingers around the smaller one’s, he felt his entire body suddenly drained of all energy, as if he’d just been through a marathon without stopping or slowing down and had finally halted at the finish line. He felt weak, unable to stand, shaking all over as the fox’s smile took up more and more of his field of view, even through his increasingly-blurry and shaky vision. It wasn’t until he blinked enough of the sweat away that Dave fully understood what was going on, and even then he refused to believe it until he was properly eye-level with the fox in front of him… for about a second or so before he was somehow below it; not that this was the whole truth of course, because it wasn’t just the bull shrinking, but Andy growing in his stead as well, and the poor little man’s mind was too shaken to really understand that his immense bulk was actually being stolen by the very runt that he had just been calling inadequate and inexperienced not ten minutes prior. He wouldn’t even understand it until some time later, what with his brain being assaulted by something that felt a lot like pain, but didn’t pierce through him as badly as regular agony would; it was like despair in physical form, a constant reminder that he was insufficient, unworthy, and unable to do anything about that no matter how much he tried. It was weakness and fragility all wrapped up together in a way that the bull, being used to being a big, burly lover and the largest male in any given room, simply lacked the ability to really understand or have a frame of reference for. Within a few moments, he was on the ground, on his knees, and barely able to even breathe properly, with someone patting the top of his head and chuckling quietly to themselves: the fox. “I have to say, I didn’t expect you to fall for it,” Andy mused, obviously happy with himself over how everything had turned out, “but I thank you for your graceful donation nonetheless. I’m sure Daisy will love to feel what it’s like to have all this bulk be used properly, for once.” The words were so hateful that Dave couldn’t help but at least try and fight back against them. How dare that bastard tell him that he didn’t know how to please his own wife?! Just because he did some dumb trick with her tits when they were at their most sensitive, suddenly he thought he could get away with anything?! Well, the vulpine had another thing coming, because Dave was going to get back up on his feet and give him a piece of mind… or would, if trying to do so hadn’t made the bull become very acutely aware of just how much damage had been done to his body. He still refused to believe that what he saw during his brief breakdown his real; there was no way that anyone’s size had truly changed, it being far more likely that Andy merely injected something into him or did some weird kind of grip to affect his heartbeat, anything to help rationalize away the reality of the situation. But as soon as the former giant tried to fight back against the very man who had left him as a pitiful shadow of his former self, that’s when everything began to sink in, and despair overtook the rage that the bull was feeling. “Look at you, so pitiful and pathetic,” Andy kept on speaking, seemingly perfectly aware of just what his quarry was thinking at that exact moment, “do you honestly think you can do anything about this? Do you think you can fight back? Please, by all means, go ahead!” - the fox laughed, a mirthless sound that served only to make the bull know for certain just how screwed he was - “But I think we both know just who the runt is now.” He wasn’t small, by any objective means. In fact, if he were to measure himself, Dave would probably still end up at just under six feet of height, more than enough to still end up taller than most people he knew, but it was still nothing compared to the towering hunk that he knew that he was, nothing compared to the body he spent years sculpting and taking exceedingly good care of. He looked down at himself, inspecting his arms and letting loose a loud yelp once he saw just how much his shirt hung off of his frame, both thanks to how much height had been robbed from him, and how much musculature as well; rather than a powerful, toned and ripped physique, what he was looking at were a pair of limp noodles attached to a torso that looked more fat and flabby than anything else, along with two legs that looked pitifully unable to hold up even his new undersized frame. He couldn’t understand what was happening, at least not until he looked up and tried to get a good look at Andy… and at that point, everything made a dreadful amount of sense. “That’s right, gaze upon your god, runt,” the newly formed giant boomed and thundered, “gaze upon him and despair, because you aren’t getting any of this back. And you know what, I think your wife is going to love having someone who knows what he’s doing fuck her like the animal she is, wouldn’t you say so?” The fox wasn’t just so much taller than he had been that he was almost scraping his head against the ceiling, but his body had also buffed up so much that Dave suddenly felt even more inadequate than he did already, enough that he probably would’ve felt the same even if he hadn’t just had his size drained until he turned into a limp pipsqueak. Andy’s entire body was bulging with brand new muscles, veins dotting its surface on occasion and especially after he decided to start flexing in order to show off how powerful his new physique was. It flew in the face of physics as the bull knew them; even assuming a one-to-one ratio, the fox had ended up far, far larger than he should have considering that he didn’t completely consume the bull until they were left as a speck of dust, leaving said bull to wonder just what kind of sizes they would end up with whenever they were done with him… because Andy clearly wasn’t satisfied yet. They were looking down at their newest victim, licking their lips and outright salivating as they grabbed Dave’s wrist and effortlessly pulled him up into the air, leaving him hanging at eye-level so the two could stare at one another and cement this new dynamic they had created for themselves; or, well, the one that Andy had unilaterally imposed upon them. It wasn’t supposed to be permanent, obviously, it was all part of the infidelity play; the fox would steal the bull’s size, run off to fuck his wife, and then when all was said and done, he’d return Dave to the state that he used to be in and they could carry on with their life. That was the plan anyway. The reality of it was… slightly more complicated. Without Rebecca there to temper his enthusiasm and greed, there wasn’t a lot that Andy could rely on to keep him in check besides his own sense of self-control, and while he had gotten exceedingly good at holding himself back from doing anything particularly stupid, there were still occasions in which he… slipped. Situations, punctual and one-off, where his ability to control his urges faltered and he allowed his inner, more primal self to shine through and take over, even when he knew that doing so would only lead down to disaster for everyone involved. Walls had been torn down and whole houses destroyed because of this, requiring quite a bit of hush money being thrown around in order to keep things under wrap, but Andy just couldn’t help himself; the bull’s bulk was just as delicious to absorb and consume as it was to gaze upon and feel, and after such a delectable repast, the vulpine’s mind was far away from any thoughts of holding back or pacing himself. He wanted more, he wanted the full course, and he wanted it immediately, damn the consequences. “God, it’s been so long…” Andy mumbled, more to himself than anyone around him, his size ensuring that even this noise was loud enough to be slightly painful to Dave’s now-vulnerable senses, “The last time I was allowed to do this, three houses ended up broken into pieces and I had to be sedated just to keep me from going on a rampage. And you know what the best part about that is, Dave?” The fox giant pulled his prey closer to him, that the diminutive little thing could hear him just perfectly when he spoke again. “I’m glad I didn’t tell anyone that I was coming here~” There was no need for gloating anymore, at least not of the verbal variety; all that was required of Andy was that he kept looking straight at the bull, the same one who had just been berating him, and that would be enough to let them know just how utterly helpless they truly were. No need to show off how good his hands were, no need for words or pointless comments, just the silent certainty that there was nothing that Dave could do that would help him fight back against an absolute giant of a fox who, right in front of his eyes, began growing larger. The smaller male’s initial assumptions were right, that titan was breaking conservation of mass, because there was no way they could be getting so much extra bulk out of him when he had already been reduced to this tiny little wimp of a man who could barely even stand; yet, despite the lack of any proper nutrition, Andy continued to bulge outwards, his head smacking heavily against the ceiling as his torso expanded in every direction, leaving him with a pair of pecs powerful enough that he could probably bend steel in between them, his shoulders and arms framing them perfectly and his trunk-thick legs holding up that toned body to absolute perfection. He was utterly colossal, far larger than Dave had ever been, and that wasn’t even touching on his package; how exactly Daisy was supposed to handle that torso-length beast or the amount of spunk kept away in those knee-deep nuts was anyone’s guess but her husband’s, because the diminutive bovine, now small enough to fit on the palm of a single one of Andy’s paws, was barely able to think properly, let alone reason anything out at all. He was gently placed on the ground, propped up against the wardrobe so he could watch as that absolute monster of a fox got back on the bed, picked Daisy up with a single hand, and quietly asked her to hold onto the bedstand with both hands while kneeling on top of the mattress. It was obvious from that position just what he was intending to do, and some respect was owed to the cow for actually agreeing to it without any hesitation despite her eyes bulging out at seeing just how colossal that cock of his was; with shaking legs and a quivering voice, she held onto the wooden frame, bit her tongue in anticipation… and promptly let out a long, drawn-out moo once she felt Andy’s fingers dig into her butt, not even needing his tip to press against anything. Her voice broke when it did. There was no way that thing would ever fit, but Andy was going to try and do it anyway; Daisy had plenty of experience handling Dave for hours on end, so clearly her body should be used to the kind of high-energy bucking that she was about to be on the receiving end of; it was merely a question of smoothing his entrance just enough that he could shove his entire cock inside of the cow without her begging for him to stop too much. Surprisingly, not a single word came out of her once he actually began pushing inwards; a lot of groaning and moaning, sure, but not one complaint or even slight indication that she might want him to go slower. If anything, one of her hands moving to squeeze her tits was proof positive that she was somehow enjoying having her insides practically split open by a shaft big enough to leave a bulge in her belly without even being fully inside of her… giving Andy plenty of motivation to give that cow his all and not hold back, leading to him shoving himself forwards and practically bottoming out inside that gorgeous woman without hesitation nor warning, causing her to scream out for just a second before her throat crackled into silence, the fingers holding onto the wooden frame literally ripping a whole chunk of it off, and the ones groping her breasts squeezing so heavily that both of her udders erupted with milk, staining the sheets to the point where droplets were already oozing onto the floor. Despite knowing he had the initiative, Andy stopped while hilted, having noticed that Daisy was trying to tell him something. Given that the whole point of the exercise was to pleasure her, he figured it’d be best to try and listen; perhaps she was begging him to slow down, maybe even shrink to a more manageable size, as it wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. The poor thing was shaking all over as she tried to get her thoughts out, but it would take at least a full minute, as well as her somehow managing to roll herself around so that she’d be facing her lover, before her lips opened wide and a single thing came out of them, spoken with such unbridled lust that Andy could practically feel himself growing thicker just by listening to it. “Harder~” That sealed it. If there was still anything left in Andy that told him to hold back, that one word had been enough to completely destroy it, the final barrier keeping that cow away from having her whole world turned inside-out and upside-down by a lover that would ruin her so thoroughly that she’d never be able to look at Dave ever again, a rutting so tremendously powerful that the infidelity play would eventually turn into a reality for her. Andy no longer cared about what he was doing, no longer considered that he might be crossing a line; for him, the only important thing was fucking that cow until she was properly broken in, until the bed had snapped in half and ran with milk and cum, all in front of a diminished, pathetically drained “bull” who no longer lived up to his own species’ name. And indeed, that’s exactly what Dave was forced to watch, too weak to walk away, too weak-minded to look away, staring ahead at the spectacle of debauchery and excess that was seeing his wife’s body bulging out with a cock big enough to practically rearrange her insides each time it went fully into her, all while she begged for Andy to go faster and deeper. Hours they spent like this, hours where the cow somehow managed to hold her climax at bay for as long as she could, until she could do so no longer. The bed was ruined, the carpeting was flooded, and Dave had to hold onto the wardrobe to keep from being swept away by all the juices flowing around him, all while the fox giant had yet to cum properly. And when he did, well… luckily for Daisy, her body was well-lubricated and used to dealing with large sizes already, because the first blast alone was enough to leave her looking gravid at full term and ready to deliver, and if not for the fact that Andy moved back to let most of his spunk flow out, goodness knows how utterly massive she would’ve ended up becoming, far larger than should be possible, yet always so eager to scream out for more. Silence fell after the minutes-long climax, during which the only sounds anyone could hear were the labored breathing of the fox and his cow, and the quiet whimpering of the former bull in the corner of the room. Against all odds, it wasn’t Andy who took the first step post-orgasm, but Daisy; she outstretched her arms, using the last remaining bit of strength left in them to hold her hands together over Andy’s neck, pulling him close for a big, sloppy kiss, leaving a thin strand of drool between their lips when he pulled back. “I could call up some friends,” Daisy crooned, “some gym boys that Dave likes to hang out with. Big, strong, perfect for you… and we can go for round two if you’d like~”

(F TF giant Gastropod/Amphibian) Aden and his wife Lilith were an explorer-researcher duo, and had been thus far unstoppable. They are coming off from their last discovery high, from trekking through the dangerous uncharted rainforests to find a temple that predates Sumerians- who were previously the eldest human civilisation. It had held many mysteries that are still being puzzled over by researchers who proffer to sit still. There was no town or any signs of civilisation around the temple for one, no human remains around it, the architecture did not match any other known civilisation, and the temple was host to several metal holding containers used to preserve seeds of various plants. Eons before the metal ages. What the other researchers had not found yet, Aden and Lilith were already on the trail of. The temple had no words or known glyphs, but rather imagery similar to those on the walls of a stone age cave, so it was up to interpretation, but they believed they were on course to find the legendary Garden Of Eden. It was some ways off from the temple, but they were plenty used to travel already. Aden always lead the way, he had an athletic build and was generally not afraid of anything. Lilith was tall but not at all strong and almost always too absorbed in thought to watch where she was going- so it was up to Aden to make sure she didn't walk off a cliff chasing a bug. Her hair was a voluminous honey blonde and wild- both from being naturally wavy and from her lack of care. She had thick round glasses on over her baby blue eyes- she couldn't see anything without them, and if anyone else put them on they would probably go blind. They found a cave at the suspected area, but Aden needed to move some large rocks out of the way for them to fit in. They went inside with confidence but got progressively disheartened as they went and continued to find nothing. No cave drawings, no signs anyone had ever been there before them. Lilith did note though that because it is underground and so old, the structure of the cave system could have completely changed because of tectonic shifts. Their excitement was finally renewed an already dangerously deep distance into the ground. Aden paused at a pool of water to switch out the batteries in his flashlight and as soon as he cut the lights he realised the cave did not go completely dark. There was a pale cyan light coming from under the water! It looked like a small pool at first but the water filled another crack in the cave floor that went down quite far- and something was glowing under the water. Aden explored it a bit before ushering Lilith down with him and through it to the other side! The glow was from a cave, under the water in the other cave. It was filled with musty smelling, cool oxygen thanks to an abundance of bioluminescent plants and fungus- which is also where the glow came from. There was still no signs anyone had ever been here, but it was starting to look more garden-like. The cave fanned out in many directions so they had to simply pick one and go with it- taking more than one turn would just make them lost. The water rippled with both its own movement and from creatures inside. There was many frogs, newts and some primordial looking fish and other small creatures all over the place. So many critters this far underground needed a food source to form a proper ecosystem... like a garden. They finally found their way to a lake dotted with large boulders and stalagmites to use as stepping stones or small islands. It was very warm at the lake- the heat radiating off from the water. The dark cave roof was dotted with a million glowing mushrooms looking like stars in an abyssal night sky. Several of the critters around here also had bioluminescent markings on them, to identify others of their species through the darkness or spook predators. Lilith nodded with a grin. "I think this might be our most dangerous expedition yet." She chuckled at their boldness. "We are so far underground and didn't tell a soul about this place so if we get into trouble there is no one to call for help." Aden nodded, keeping a hand near the large machete at his belt. "Well, why share the glory of what could be the greatest discovery of all? Besides most of the government funded big research teams would just rip the cave open and gut all of this stuff out to have on their lab tables by the end of the day- and ruin the actual location in the process. What I am really worried about is suffocating. Not only are we very far underground, we are also technically under water, how are we breathing at all?" Lilith raised an index finger matter-of-factly. "The heat in this underground lake is from subterranean volcanic activity- geothermal energy- created from heat and pressure thanks to the sun's radiation being trapped in the denser earth. It is what keeps our planet nice and toasty at the middle- having never cooled down from when the planet was originally just a ball of molten rock. The volcanic activity creates heat and gasses- both of which fuel the growth of all the plant life you see down here. Sulphur is poison to us but plants love it. Just like they love carbon monoxide. The plants are where the oxygen is coming from. It is also why this subsystem of caves doesn't just fill with water and overflow- the oxygen is trapped and causing the water to deflect down alternate paths- which is why the cave system suddenly became so complex. It was easier for the water to cut a new trail than to force its way up." "So, if there was a large group of humans down here at once..." Lilith nodded. "The air pressure would drop and the water level would rise. We are actually safer because we are the only ones here." Lilith marvelled at all the small critters around them. Normally cave dwellers do not have eyes at all, but the species here did, because of the abundance of bioluminescence. Luciferin was the chemical that made the glow- glow. It was the same stuff in a firefly's butt. While she examined the strange creatures, Aden started to hop from rock to rock, trying to navigate across the lake. There was caves spreading out from all angles from the lake, but the lake room up most of the entire chamger. If they wanted to continue in a straight line- they would have to cross the lake. He did not need to go very far though before he noticed the contents of the lake. There was still another chamber inside of it, but without any stone walls this time. There was a gigantic bubble of air in the middle that housed what looked like a high concentration of plants. To maintain a bubble strong enough to hold up a small lake, the plants must be extremely heavy breathers- to the point where there are no plants like it alive in the world today, because they would be unable to survive anywhere else. Aden helped Lilith navigate the jumps to get toward the middle. They would have to swim down to the side of the bubble- going through the top would cause them to fall straight down onto the plants. She also warned him ahead of time that the air pressure in the bubble was huge- it would be both difficult to breath even though it was likely all oxygen, and their ears would pop immediately on entering it and be unable to unpop till they left. It was bizarre, swimming DOWN to the surface of the water. Lilith had been right. The air was hot and extremely thick and hard to breath- and filled with strange smells. They were not even fully out of the water yet when a huge object passed quickly neary them, almost nipping Aden who then stumbled into the bubble! He took out the machete. "Shit, there is bigger fish in the lake." He seen the shadow charge at them and quickly dove back, pulling Lilith back with him. "Holy shit!" The large fish burst from the water and slammed into the ground where they had been, snapping its jaws lined with hundreds of small spike-like teeth. It had a needlessly high number of fins on its body similar to the Coelicanth- the eldest living species in the world today. When Aden pushed Lilith out of the way of the attack though, she stumbled and caught herself placing her hand on the edge of a pool of goo. She quickly took her hand back and wiped it off on her shirt. The goo was hidden in the middle of the strange small plants, and almost looked like it was moving around on its own. Aden helped her to her feet again. "We need to get out of here, this bubble isn't safe." He could see at least three other of the fish's shadows swimming around the bubble very quickly, looking for the moment to lunge at them. Rather than look for an opening between them, Aden cut an opening through them- deliberatly diving into the water in front of one to jam his blade into it. The blood and stunned body of the one would distract the other two. Holding onto Lilith tightly with his free hand he swam them to the surface again, going to a larger platform since he did not doubt the fish would try to leap out of the water if they stood on a narrow one. Just as they were climbing out another fish bit into Lilith's leg causing her to cry out in pain. Aden quickly thrust down and stabbed it in the face, causing it to let go and thrash itself off of the blade. Lilith pulled herself fully from the water and Aden quickly got his bag off to get the first aid kit out. "Uh... Aden..." "Don't worry, we can patch it up." "I don't... think you need to." He furrowed his brow and looked over to her leg to see her wipe the blood away from the small divots in her skin that soon after flattened out. In only a half minute the wound just vanished. He went to put his hand on her shoulder and she recoiled. "Dont! Don't touch me right now, you might get contaminated." "By what?! What is going on?" "I touched a pool of goo down there by accident... I think that was it. That pool of quivering goo down in the bubble... is the Garden Of Eden." "Not... what I pictured." "Its primordial ooze- prototype single cell organisms in ultra-dense concentration. It is trapped under the water- if you exposed it to the open air I garantee it would explode into a thousand new types of plants in a matter of moments. The more a creature evolves the more complicated it becomes and the harder it is to evolve because new traits contradict or render others redundant. Those cells are a blank slate- brand new, never evolved. Neo Cells." "So... how did that make you heal though?" "The neo cells likely bonded to me, seeing my more evolved cells and following them blindly. But that also means my body had some of the evolutionary potential of the neo cells now." "And it immediately figured out regeneration?" "It is a pretty basic cell function but also look around you." Aden looked around but did not see what she was hinting at, and shrugged. "Glowing plants and small critters." "Due to the habitat most are amphibious. Extreme regeneration is a power of Salamander... an amphibian. There are many salamander in here." She pressed a hand down where her wound had been. "Super hot too, I don't think my regeneration would work well away from water to use as a heat sink." "Why so hot?" "Very fast cellular activity- friction creates heat. The larger the wound the more heat will be made restoring it, so without a heat sink of some kind it might not heal at all, because my body would start cooking itself trying to." "So... you're saying you will turn into an amphibian if you stay down here? We have to get you the hell back out of the cave then!" "Yea. But... don't touch me for a while, ok? Once they intigrate into my body they would have no reason to transfer to you, but if I have any neo cells on me that haven't found their way into my body they will absolutely skip on over to yours." They quickly started heading back up the way they came. They were a very far way down though- it had been an entire day climbing down in the first place. It was night by the time they got to the lake and they were going to set up a temporary camp for the night at its shore. Now it was almost midnight and they were heading back up- Lilith snapped up a few bioluminescent mushrooms on their way up for them to snack on, knowing they were non toxic. They taste like crap, but they aren't poisonous. She noticed her hands were looking puffy after a while but decided to not call attention to it. Aden noticed when she flinched several times, going rigid from the squirming feeling in her back as muscles rearranged and grew. It felt like her back was trying to stretch but couldn't on its own. Aden was very worried but Lilith reassured him it wasn't dangerous- whatever it ended up doing. The cells aren't advanced enough to be viral or even symbiotic, they would just play follow the leader with her own cells, but make it so she rapidly adapts to situations and environments, which was currently dark and wet. To try and get his mind off it she mentioned the lake was perfectly bowl shaped on the bottom. Some ancient civilisations seemed to think humans were created by an alien race, that life came from the cosmos. The shape of that lake makes it seem like a meteor impact- with the primordial ooze at the apex. The first single cell organisms may have crashed into Earth from elsewhere and then the rest of the dust and rock above collapsed back in, cocooning the site and allowing lifeforms to develop sheltered from the outside. Then again some people believed in vampires and werewolves and that they were a more pure, advanced product of the alien creators, so it was best to wait for more concrete evidence before buying into any one theory. The two made it back to the second cave mouth- the first that was submerged in water, but they were both too tired. It was never a good idea to climb rocky surfaces when you are half asleep, never mind in the dark as well. As much as they wanted to book it out of there, slipping or getting crushed under displaced rocks did not help them either. While they slept though, Lilith continued to change. Her skin became quite soft and her bones started to soften. No longer so rigid, her spine was finally able to pop apart and grow new segments, lengthening itself. More and more of her midsection became baren as her shirt wasn't meant to cover such a long body. While her spine became more rubbery and flexible though, the bones of her shoulders and arms continued to get even softer, getting absorbed by her body to repurpose the material. To make up for the loss though, the muscle restructured and became more dense and solid so her arms could keep their form. They did bloat up a bit though- the curves becoming more round and less defined, especially her fingers. Her digits became much rounder and a bit shorter, making them look like big bumps on the end of her arms, and her fingernails vanished entirely. Four large bumps appeared on her back as well- very fleshy and soft. Her neck got proportionally longer with her torso as the final changes that night. When they woke up, Aden immediately started to panic again and Lilith had to calm him down. She took a more scientific approach, being curious about her changes rather than fearing them. She flexed and loosened the muscles in her arm and they seemed to change proportion a bit when she did. With a confident nod she told Aden to back up and put her arms forward. Her arms and especially her fingers stretched out tremendously, to the point where she could reach past Aden standing four feet back. Her extremely long fingers had a bit of webbing between them that was only visible when they stretched out. They were more like tentacles than fingers when extended. "You got elastic powers?!" Llith chuckled. "Not exactly. Slug limbs, these are the 'arms' of a sea slug. More like fins or weird wings really. They are called parapodium." She relaxed them back into the pseudo human arm shape, then flicked them to show how flexible it was. "No bones. Which makes them sort of like a tongue- muscle is the only thing giving it any solid form at all. Will make climbing easier though, eh? I have like a five foot reach, ha ha." She stood fully up and wobbled a bit, tilting over backward. Sleeping on the rock made for bad circulation- her feet were still partially asleep. Before she could fall backward though, the fat bumps on her back extended out, reaching from under the back of her shirt and caught her against the wall behind her! She did not even know they were there till now- they reacted on instinct alone. They were four parapodia too! When she chuckled nervously in surprise, her skin started to glow in several spots! As if mirroring her blush, pale pink glow appeared as glowing spots down her arm and the entire ends of her back parapodia. Before she could fully even take it in though, she felt vibrations in the cave wall through the parapodia touching it. "Something is coming!" Aden reached for his machete but was not ready for the huge narrow creature that smashed up through the bottom of the rock walls and slammed him to the side! It looked like a gigantic worm. Aden tried to swipe at it as he got back up but it was very flexible and narrow, and easily evaded. "What the hell is this thing? A worm on steroids?! I thought worms hate water." "It isn't a worm, its a Lindwurm- a giant Caecilian from mythology. It is an amphibian as well- it has a spine and bones in there." Now that she thought about it- that was probably where her elongated body comes from. She needed to figure out a way to help Aden or this thing was going to try and eat them both! She could technically use herself as a body shield since she can regenerate but that didn't solve the problem that just bought them time. She took a deep breath about to scream to try and startle it but realised her lung capacity was much larger than normal. She then took another breath without exhaling the first, then another. Breath after breath she continued to suck in more air and in turn her long throat started to bulge bigger and bigger- literally inflating like a balloon. The glow in her skin returned but this time more red than pink. Her throat grew to the point where it stretched partially transparent and then she tensed her throat muscles back in, crushing the air back out her nose with an extremely loud, long croak that rattled the cave walls! The power of a bullfrog! The lindwurm froze up like someone cringing at the sound of nails on a chalkboard. These caves were extremely quiet normally other than the sound of water so creatures down here were adjusted to listening to miniscule sounds- something of this volume was decimating. Aden was shocked by the sound to, but he recovered much faster once he seen it was his wife and jammed the machete blade into the lindwurm. It thrashed wildly before yanking back into the wall and vanishing in retreat! Lilith's glowing spots turned to a soft blue before fading away. Aden shook his head at her as he walked back over. "Part frog now too, huh?" Lilith just shrugged. They gathered themselves and started to head back up, slipping through the water above. Lilith noted that she did not have to breath when passing through the water. Aden also got hungry much faster than she did. Amphibians are exothermic, they rely on outside heat and cooling, which means their metabolism is extremely slow compared to endothermic creatures and they can survive for a long time on very little. There are also species of frog and salamander that do not even have lungs- they breath entirely with their skin. When she fired up through the water, her newly shaped arms worked like wings and she passed through it like nothing. Like anyone could assume, leaving the cave was considerably harder than entering due to it being so sloped. Going up was always going to be harder than going down. Except now that Lilith's body could adapt, it was. She could feel her leg muscles growing, her thighs bulking up considerably. Another frog-like trait; beefy legs. Unlike her amphibious traits though her feet started to adapt by fusing the bones together, making the foot increasingly more solid, but also inflexible and narrow. Too narrow for her shoes, which kept sliding around chafing her ankles till she just gave up and took them off, and emberassingly also discarded her panties because her thick thighs were causing them to not fit properly either. She examined her leg, and it looked real odd at the bottom. It just ended in what looked like a spike-shaped hoof. It made climbing easy because she could jam it into the looser rocks and soil to get footing, but she imagined it would be worse walking on normal ground. The two were stopped however before it was even noon. They came to a wall of rock. The thrashing lindwurm must have caused a cave-in when it ran! Their path out was collapsed completely! When Aden was done shouting profanities at the collapse he went to grab the rocks but Lilith quickly stopped him. The cave was angled down the entire way- if he loosened the rocks they would roll toward them, not away. They would get crushed by it. It could also just cause even more to collapse from above and make the wall of rock even more impossible to penetrate. He asked what option they had and Lilith reluctantly noted the facts as the researcher in her was want to do. There was animals down below, and fish to boot. Lots of plants, and a supply of steadily circulating water. If they can't get out, they technically have what they need to survive inside 'Eden'. Aden did not like that idea, but seen no alternative without risking an avalanche. Once they returned to the bottom at the lake garden, Aden started to set up camp, gathering loose rocks and using their supplies. Lilith went gathering for food, since her arms now had extended reach. To his surprise she returned with cooked fish! Apparently Lilith is able to use a neurotoxin from the skin of her arms to completely shut down their bodies, and then took it to one of the underwater volcanic vents, and cooked it in the searing water. Since they were in a cave, starting a fire wouldn't be a good idea. Not only do they have little to burn, but the smoke doesn't really have anywhere to go. While swimming around she grew a long fleshy tail too, but that helped her keep balance. It had rows of spots that can light up as well, but also has bone through it. Her spots started to glow pink again as she asked Aden not to be freaked out, and showed him another odd change. She stuck her tongue out, and it just kept coming. Writhing around, wiggling and getting used to the new muscles and length it extended out farther and farther. She could blast it out of her mouth like a frog, but it wasn't quite a frog tongue either. What at first looked like pale taste buds stood up as millions of little thorns when she tensed her tongue. It was half a frog tongue but also half a radula- a slug's tongue. The millions of super tiny teeth-like thorns were called denticles. When rigid, her tongue can be used as a weapon, and she is even able to secrete an acid from its surface like carnivorous slugs do- to drill holes through the shell of crabs and other creatures they prey on. When they ate the fish they noted it didn't really taste like... anything. Lilith pointed out that one of the reasons the coelicanth survived for so long is because they also don't really taste like any other existing flavour. When they finished eating though Lilith whispered 'uh oh' and hunched over from the building feelings of more changes. She touched her tail to the water of the lake unknowingly and pulled it back quickly at the crackling sound. An electrical spark exploded through the water as soon as her tail touched it... the power of an electric eel. Her entire body started to groan and her bones gently popped and shifted under her skin as her entire body started to grow in size! One of the first tricks evolution learned was bigger is stronger- the world was ruled by megafauna before the ice age taught evolution to be more conservative. Her fingers extended and wiggled about just from the uncomfortable feelings in her shifting body. Her skirt was already strained by her tail, and was the first to snap off. Her shirt and bra tightened quickly as well after. It hugged her form impossibly tight, then threatened to strangle her before the seams started to bust. At the very least her legs continued to adapt, now taking the flat ground into consideration as well. The spike like hoof split into two segments making it cloven and the distance between it and her ankle started to grow longer and bulk up a bit like a proper hooved creature would have. Unlike other creatures though, when it seemed to be done, a blade-like arched claw grew from her ankle down to the ground behind her leg! It could pivot at the base like a simplistic digit- it essentially acted like a kick stand, or a training wheel on a bike. If she leaned back on her hooves the long bone claw would take the weight and keep her up. And her tail acted as a counter balance if she were to try to lean forward. Lilith acted as the optimist for this expedition, but she was very clearly worried as she watched Aden become smaller and smaller than her. When her body finally stopped getting bigger she clutched her breasts for comfort, but her parapodium fingers were so long they wrapped around her entire torso and back again. At least her boobs kept up with the growth. They had a tiny row of bioluminescent dots too though. Her face altered slightly as well with the last change- getting two large spots of luminescent skin around her eyes- making it look like she has giant glowing eyes to predators to spook them off, though like her other spots they only glow when she gets emotional. Her nose also got a bit longer, putting the end closer to her mouth and her nostrils grew a bit bigger- she was identifying more scents. She was unable to see herself, but Aden was able to see that Lilith's iris were also a reflective blue now- bouncing light to allow her to see even in the pitch darkness. She was about to say something when squirming growth woke in her back once more for one final change. She bent back at first from the feeling but then the growth forced her to hunch forward. Her skin started to secrete a silvery thick fluid that quickly started to join together on the surface and rapidly harden. Her involuntary flexing during its formation caused it to become layered. The new growth had formed into huge curved rectangular plates of grey shell, like a clam or snail, shielding her entire backside. The plates had randomly placed, small rounded spikes on it as further protection, and four holes in the upper plates to allow her back parapodia out. The parapodia on her back were now slightly translucent though, and a bit more thin, making them look like translucent ribbons. They essentially acted like the tendrils of a jellyfish- drifting around behind her to feel her surroundings, and deliver neurotoxin to anything dumb enough to attack her. "Oooh..." Lilith's neck inflated partially for a moment in a pout. "I am really different now. And my clothes are destroyed even. I might... be able to get the rocks out of the way. Between my acid spit and the fact I am huge now I could probably just smash through... if you wanted to escape. By yourself." She snapped the arms off her glasses since they no longer fit her larger head, so the glasses just rest on the bridge of her nose. Aden furrowed his brows. "Why on earth would I leave you behind?" "I look like a monster! Probably. I can't actually see myself, but I mean- ! Also... there are a lot of risks to trying to move those rocks, yea. But actually I was worried about something else. The neo cells are not contagious after they are assimilated, but because they can evolve extremely fast... they could evolve to be viral. And then they will be infective. I don't want to go out there if it means turning the world into... whatever you wanna call this." She motioned over herself. "Biologically I am superior. Stronger and healthier than any normal human could be, but... I doubt the world is ready to be populated by Neosapiens." Aden just shook his head and walked up to her, pressing in on her very soft smooth skin, ushering her to lay back. Because she was so much bigger laying on her back actually caused her neck to bridge the gap over the water and rest her head on one of the stepping stones, with her hair veining out in the water around her head like rays from the sun. He climbed up onto her huge form and placed his hands on her breasts- which were average to her but huge to him. He kissed the bouncy surface of her boobs while kneading the flesh rhythmically and watched as the row of dots down the top of the breasts started to glow pink, brighter and brighter as he eased her tension with arousal. When she was moist, he slid down her body a bit and lined up with her pussy, placing his hands on either side of the large clit. They didn't need to go back to the surface- they had everything they needed right here. In spite of Lilith taking the forbidden fruit of Eden, Aden took her that eve. They still had a lot of research to do on what they found. Maybe after they would figure out a way to the surface without risk. But for now at least, she dwells below.

Devil's Delight Christine and Gwendolyn stared in awe at the exotic beauty gracing their doorway. The blonde felt her newly added member begin to stir again. She gritted her teeth, having just gotten it to stop aching and driving her into a lustful frenzy. The new woman was strange, her hair and skin tone unlike anything belonging to the human race, and her cock... Oh it made Christine's mouth water alright; she had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from lunging forward and wrapping her lips around it. But it wasn't human looking in the least; it was long, thick, and blunt at the end. She looked perfect, better than Christine, better boobs, better legs, her stony hued complexion seemed flawless, the tilt of her eyes looked wonderfully exotic, along with her pointed ears. "This is our boat, bitch! Fuck off!" With a growl Christine stomped forward, gripping the newcomer's breasts, and proceeded to shove her right down on her ass, storming out of the ship's cabin, stomping off to take a swim in the hopefully cold water. The elven woman glared at Christine, anger and shock plain upon her face. She muttered something under her breath, the words strange and hard on the ears. Thunder seemed to rumble in the perfectly clear sky for a moment after the words were spoken, sending a chill up Gwendolyn's spine. Gwen stood in awe for a few moments, trying to fight off the goosebumps that had just spread over her skin. Her cock seemed to ache just a little bit more than it had moments before. Her bikini seemed to be growing tighter on her breasts and balls as well, but oddly it felt rather good instead of uncomfortably constricting. She clenched her teeth and took a few steps forward, her erection swaying from side to side as she walked and her new testicles bouncing with each step. It felt wonderfully erotic just to walk. She reached down and offered the newcomer a hand. The elven woman looked up in confusion and took Gwen's hand in her own, letting the redhead help her to her feet. "I'm so sorry. Chrissie is always like that when she's angry and sexually frustrated. She snapped at Casey and me like that when we were a week out to sea and her vibrator ran out of batteries. Umm... not that I'm supposed to know about that." She said with a blush. "She's going to get what she deserves." The elf mumbled. Gwen couldn't help but gawk at her, she looked so... beautiful. Her hand seemed to reach out of its own volition, finding the elf's snow white hair, and slipping through it with ease, finding it was soft as silk. Her breath was coming in soft gasps, and it was almost instinct that made her lean forward, her lips softly brushing against the newcomer's. "Oh gods! I'm sorry! I..." Gwen protested, but instead of being angry, the elf pressed tighter against her and returned the kiss. It was dynamite; it ignited an explosion of pleasure within her very being. The mere kiss felt better than most of the sexual encounter Gwen had partaken in on their around-the-world cruise. She climaxed, somehow, without spilling a drop. Gwen's knees buckled beneath her, and she stumbled to the railing to support herself before she fell over. Their visitor laughed and turned, "Maybe I'll visit again once your friend has had the opportunity to think on the error of her ways." The elf turned and leaped over the other side of the boat and landed down on the beach. "Hey! Wait!" the redhead cried, "You haven't even told me your name!" Gwen managed to gain enough control of her pleasure-drunk body to follow, landing rather clumsily in the soft sand, tumbling forward, finding herself caught from a nasty spill onto some rocks by the arms of her visitor. Breast met breast and cock met cock, Gwen wrapped her arms around the elf, pressing against her tightly. "Y-you feel so good, wh-why?" she murmured, resting her head on the elf's shoulder, nuzzling her neck. The elf looked a bit confused, and she found herself embracing the human girl, stroking her hair gently. "I'm different," she said softly, "I'm made for coaxing people into having a little bit of fun; it's who and what I am. I'm Yeania, by the way." "G-G-Gwen." The human managed to stammer as Yeania cupped her rump, making her grind against the elf. She let out a soft cry as her shaft spewed forth a goodly amount of precum, the hot fluid dripping down over her member and the elf's as well. It was Yeania's turn to gasp, and she returned the favor, but the sheer heat of it made Gwen cry out. It was so hot as to be just shy of painful. The sensation was intense, and it seemed to make her cock throb with need. It also made her feel funny, tingly. "I... I need you..." Gwen whispered, embarrassed, ashamed, yet unable to resist her growing lust for the exotic woman. The elf grinned, "Show me. Show me how badly you want me, how horny you are. Put on a show for me." "Wh-what?" the redhead murmured, seemingly lost in Yeania's embrace. "Play with yourself for my amusement." The elf purred, her tongue tracing slowly over Gwen's earlobe, it was enough to nearly drive the girl to her knees. "Cum all over yourself, if you can." She said teasingly, planting a kiss upon Gwen's neck. That, however, was enough to send her to her knees. She wasn't sure how it had happened, or why it worked like this. Just the merest touch from the elven beauty was enough to send Gwen into throes of ecstasy. Each touch made her crave more. She was on level with Yeania's cock, and Gwen couldn't help but lick her lips. She leaned forward, fully intent on taking the bestial length into her mouth, but a hand atop her head stopped her progress. "Uh uh!" Yeania said with a chuckle, waving a scolding finger, "I said pleasure yourself, not me. That will come in time." Gwen nodded, almost in a trance. Her vision seemed to blur as the elf took a few steps back, taking a seat on a large rock on the beach. Had it been there a moment before? Gwen wasn't at all sure, but she'd been too wrapped up in her new friend's beauty to notice much of anything else. She lay back on the beach, the sand oddly soft and smooth, comfortable, rather than gritty and irritating. She wasn't sure how that could be; especially with the sand being perfectly dry. With a smile on her face she wrapped one hand around her massive member and began stroking. Had it gotten bigger since she'd awoken? Gwen was almost sure that it had. Her fingers could barely meet around its plentiful girth, and it was long enough to rest between her breasts if she positioned herself just right. She could swear that it had just barely been past her naval a few minutes before. She pushed her bikini top aside with her other hand, caressing and massaging a breast. She wasn't sure why, but Gwen felt like it was the proper thing to do. It rewarded her with such delicious sensation. It made her moan and buck her hips, a surge of precum spewing from her freakishly large member, splattering down to glisten upon her bare skin in the noonday sun. Her hand dripped downwards, scooping it up, rubbing it over her tits, making them gleam with the slick substance. Perverse thoughts entered her mind, she wanted to bathe in it, bathe in precum, have her entire body be coated with it; warm, slick, and yet still thick and sticky. She wanted every pore of her body to drink it in... -o- The moment the hot water touched her skin, Casey felt her lust surging up to the surface again. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been earlier, when she hadn't even been thinking, just consumed with a need to cum, to wring every last drop of pleasure she could out of her flesh until the sweet release of climax. It wasn't that bad, but it was still close. It was strange, the shower usually didn't usually get past tepid, and the stream that came from it was seldom more than a trickle. But the spray that came from the shower head was wonderfully intense, and there was enough steam to fog the door and leave the interior of the shower in a misty cloud. Casey adored the warmth, throughout the whole trip she'd never felt it unless it was out in the sunshine or beneath the covers. Both were good in their own ways, but both failed to provide the wonderful all-over heat of the shower. She stripped off her cum-soaked swimsuit, dropping it on the floor at her feet. She'd wash it out later. Right now all that mattered was enjoying herself. She gave her new appendage a few experimental strokes, gasping at the sensations it gave her. Where it had come from mattered not, nor how she had gotten it. The only thing that was important was how good it made her feel. Casey had kept her back to the spray, for the most part. She waited until she could be sure that Chrissie or Gwen wouldn't be butting in to see what she was doing. With slow, purposeful motions she ran her hands up her midsection, scooping up the seed that still clung to her. She brought her cupped hands to her face, her tongue darting out, hungrily lapping up her own ejaculate. Once more she gave no thought as to the strangeness of it, her actions were merely those that brought her the most pleasure; they were what her instincts told her to do. She didn't turn into the shower's spray until after she had coaxed every drop from her perfectly smooth skin. She felt great, lively, energetic. She'd been feeling a bit lackluster the past few days, devoid of energy. But now she felt revitalized, she wanted to go ashore and fuck every boy she could get her hands on. Mmm... She poured a generous amount of Chrissie's body wash into her hands, rubbing it into her hair. Casey was feeling vindictive today, and the blonde had merely stood by and gawked at her, rather than putting that juicy cock of her to good use. Casey had several perfectly available orifices to abuse, and Chrissie had totally killed off the mood for herself and Gwen before either could take advantage of them. So Casey had unscrewed the lid of the most expensive body wash, and was pouring it into her hands, rubbing it all over herself to wash the residue of her cum away. It tingled pleasantly over her body, and Casey shut the shower off the let the foam do its work. She leaned against the wall, sliding down slowly into the pool of water and bubbles at her feet. With her swimsuit stopping up the drain, Casey could take advantage of the rubber-lined door, essentially making an impromptu bathtub. She'd been using the technique for quite some time, to preserve the scant heat and water that was provided to properly bathe herself. Casey lay back, rubbing the suds all over her skin. The tingle grew more intense, as did Casey's pleasure at the act. It felt good to rub her bare skin, it felt so deliciously smooth and sleek, even more so than normal. She reached up to the hanging shelf and snagged Chrissie's favorite shampoo, much like the body wash the bottle it came in was designed for style and elegance. It was made of glass, and had a nice weight to it. Round and smooth, it was perfect for what she had in mind. A few motions with her hands in order to get it lathered up, not that the bottle needed it, Casey's pussy was soaked with lustful juices, and a few more to slip it into herself just right; aah, such bliss. So heavy and solid, her internal muscles were enough to pull it around, leaving Casey's hands free to fuck herself in other fun ways. Had her sex ever been able to do something like this before? Bah, just another thing that didn't matter at all. It felt wondrous, so why question it? Though she was at a bit of an impasse, both of her breasts longed for attention, to have the tingly bubbles lovingly massaged into them, but Casey's cock also demanded attention. She stroked it absently as she pondered what to do, admiring it as she did so. It was quite an impressive length; twice that of Casey's fingertip to her wrist, and it was nicely thick, but not so much so that she couldn't wrap her fingers around it. It was also oddly colored, looking at her cock; it seemed to be somewhat blue in color. But not the blue of lacking fresh blood. It was closer to the blue that was used in candies, a shocking neon blue. The tint seemed to spread the more Casey stroked it, her tanned skin turning white upon her loins where it wasn't blue. Within a few moments it had gone from normal hues to a gorgeous electric blue, the same shade as Casey's favorite lipstick. She smiled at the change in color, it seemed to be very much a part of her new organ, and it most certainly wasn't washing off. It also seemed to be growing more sensitive, the skin tightening upon it. Oddly the extra skin seemed to be moving towards the base, creating a strange pocket for her shaft to retreat into when it wasn't erect, throbbing and needy. The skin of it was perfectly white, as was that upon her sack, and the paleness seemed to be spreading. Good. It would make Casey look rather beautiful and stunning, if she could say so herself. Chrissie had dumped most of Casey's makeup overboard the moment they were out of sight of land. Apparently letting her friend take on the goth look she adored would not be tolerable when she was trying to seduce foreign studs. Casey snorted; another slight that she had yet to pay her so-called 'friend' back for. She grinned and grabbed the heavy bottle of body wash. It was the same brand as the shampoo, placed in a pretty glass bottle. This one was square, and much bigger; meant to sit on something as a dispenser, what with the pump top that Casey had unscrewed and tossed aside. It had a thick neck, meant to be easily refilled from simple, cheap plastic bottles of the same stuff. The opening looked to be about the right size... Casey let out a yowl of pleasure as she slid her cock into the bottle, the thick warmth of the body wash feeling delightful upon her aching shaft. She shifted position, squatting, holding the bottle in place with her knees, allowing her to fuck it as she liked. Casey would see grin every time her pal took a shower, knowing that every time Chrissie scrubbed herself with the pearlescent white body wash, she'd be rubbing her friend's cum all over her body. The very thought of it made her feel even hornier. She rubbed her soap-covered hands over her breasts; they were just about covered in the stuff from getting the bottle positioned just right for fucking. So they slide easily over her snow-white skin. Even without the suds, her skin seemed almost to gleam, looking sleek and shiny by itself. She ran her thumbs around bright blue nipples, the action seeming to unlock something within her. Casey could feel her body growing, swelling in all the right places to give her the curves she'd always been jealous of, the ones that Chrissie sported, that she couldn't get with her Asian genes and parents that didn't want to spend thousands of dollars on plastic surgery to spice her body up according to every whim she had. She was being rewarded for her obedience to her instinct. She'd dreamed that the boat had been taken to a wondrous, magical place. If she followed the rules, she would be rewarded beyond her wildest desires. The island whispered to her libido and to her emotions, it told her to misbehave, to stop letting that cow Chrissie walk all over her, to strike back in sneaky, subtle ways. Casey turned the hot water of the shower back on as she continued to stroke her growing breasts. Strike like a serpent... -o- A ways away from the boat, Christine had found what she was looking for, a nice secluded spot in the water surrounded by foliage. She swam out to it, the water pleasantly warm. Once she was most definitely out of sight of her friends she let the tension drain from her, doing what she'd wanted to do since she'd awoken in this strange place with a strange new addition. Cry. She was absolutely terrified. She had no idea where she was, no idea of how to get home, she didn't even have the slightest idea where home WAS. There was a strange woman who was unlike anything Chrissie had ever seen, and on top of all that she'd woken up with a hard-on. It was disgusting, utterly humiliating. It was a blight on her otherwise perfect body. She'd gone to great lengths and even greater expenses to make sure she was as gorgeous as she could possibly be. Having a foot and a half of man-meat between her legs totally ruined that. Wait... a foot and a half?! Chrissie's gaze darted to her groin, where her new member stood as erect and proud as ever, absolutely massive, and far bigger than it had been the last time she looked. Its precum coated length glistened beneath the tropical sun, Chrissie's mouth watered just looking at it. Her member virtually begged for attention. She watched as the muscles tightened, sending a gout of thick precum into the air, splattering upon the tranquil waters. As she watched it seemed to be growing still, inch upon inch of length surging forth from her nethers, her shaft growing thicker and thicker until it was bigger around than her forearm. She would never be able to hide such a monster of a cock, and having it surgically removed would most definitely leave scars, either way it would forever mar her otherwise perfect body. Even flaccid it would be impossible to hide; her balls were the size of grapefruits for fuck's sake. Likely she couldn't even wear a pair of her panties anymore. A loud moan escaped her throat as she imagined herself in panties, cock erect and extending out, the small amount of fabric totally unable to cover her new appendage, her testicles sticking out the sides. Why did she find that horrible image sexy? Her cock throbbed at the thought, continuing to grow, continuing to change. The flesh had grown darker, darker than even her perfect all-over tan could ever go, and the shape, the shape was... wrong. The head was flattening out, spreading widely to reach the girth of the rest of her member and just a little bit beyond. She'd seen sex toys shaped like that, right down to the strange ring-like swelling in the middle. She sniffled softly as she ran her fingertips over her bestial maleness, the light touch making her quiver with pleasure. "If I give it attention, it'll stop growing, okay?" she whispered, almost trying to bargain with the strange forces that had put her in this situation, that were doing this to her. She didn't want to end up overwhelmed like Casey had, pleasuring herself as hard as she could, driven purely by mad lust. She made sure that none of her fluids would come anywhere near her mouth, which she kept closed. She wrapped one hand around her shaft, stroking slowly, wanting to see what it would feel like without being dominated by the sensation. It felt so good to stroke, and to be stroked. It was warmth and smooth, the skin wonderfully soft, the way Chrissie tried to make all of her skin with lotions and moisturizers. Her touch was rewarded with spikes of sweet, delicious pleasure. They were intense and absolutely massive. There was so much pleasure, and so much flesh to experience it. Her own touch felt far better than any cock she'd ever taken inside herself. The very idea made her blush. "That's disgusting." She whispered, "I only enjoy it because it feels good. I don't want this!" Chrissie felt a cold shiver go through her body; the slow stretching feeling on her manhood had vanished. But now it had spread to her breasts. There was an odd tickle, deep inside them. Something gave way very slowly, a warm sensation spreading through Chrissie's tits. Blinking in confusion, she gave one a squeeze, and was rewarded not only with an intense, incredible sensation, but with something she hadn't expected at all. Whatever power was altering her, it had just removed Chrissie's breast implants, keeping them the same size, but making them all natural. It felt so good to rub them as well... They were the one part of all her surgical alterations that Chrissie had never been happy with, they'd always look, and more importantly feel, unnatural. It was the only reason why she had never gone bigger. A powerful spike of pleasure rocketed through Chrissie, making her buck her hips and arch her back. A particularly plentiful spout of pre burst forth from her cock, reaching a good ten or fifteen feet away. It seemed the power was rewarding Chrissie for her thoughts and for her obedience to pleasure her altered body. "N-not too big..." she moaned. She shifted her position, taking a growing breast in each hand, sandwiching her cock between them. It felt great, she always loved the position when she was having fun with one of her boy toys. She couldn't help but lean down and run her tongue over the large flared head of her shaft. It wasn't so bad like this, and it didn't seem like her own juices had an effect on her, like Gwen's had upon Casey. Mmm... maybe she could go back to the boat and have a little fun with her friends? If their cocks were anything like Chrissie's, they'd long for the attention. Maybe Gwen and her could double team Casey, the little Asian was quite the screamer when there was a cock in her ass. Sandwiched between the two bigger girls, her head against Chrissie's chest, her clever little tongue, infamous for blowjobs, unfamiliarly exploring her friend's newly enlarged breasts. Oh would that ever feel wonderful, especially as the sensation grew in sync with their size. Chrissie was well on her way to having the tits of her dreams, and they showed little sign of slowing. So big and heavy, perfectly shaped, she could feel the muscles on her back shifting as well to compensate for them, assuring that they would always be effortless to carry. Mmm... bigger. Bigger. Bigger. Bigger. Gods, they felt so good. Chrissie couldn't help it, with a great effort she managed to wrap her lips around her drooling shaft. If having a huge cow-cock was the price Chrissie had to pay for the perfect rack, well... it wasn't the greatest thing in the world, and given the choice she would trade both attributes back in a heartbeat. But... as long as she was on this strange little island, with no one to see but her two friends and that weird looking woman who also seemed to be suffering from the same problem it would be tolerable. Oh it felt so good, her building climax easily driving her worries and concerns away. A big thick cock, two huge, perfect boobs around it, and the incredible sexual pleasure of it all. Her fingers felts stiff from being spread so wide, so as to better caress her plentiful tit-flesh, as well as her long, thick nipples, and so many of them too... Chrissie opened her eyes, unable to stop her furious masturbation, not even for a second. She could see, just barely, down her front. Her skin had darkened in places, becoming a deep chocolate color, while the rest retained its normal tan. There seemed to be no pattern at all to the strange dark blotches. It baffled Chrissie for a moment, until she saw her nipples. They were the same near-black shade as her cock and they stuck out nearly three inches from her chest, and there were six of them. Three to a breast, centered around the point where her original nipples had been. Or were they one nipples with three teats? They were all in the middle of one large, round, darkened circle of flesh, and seemed to originate from the same point. That was not something Chrissie had wanted, and it was not something that she would tolerate, not even for gorgeous, perfect, beach ball boobs. It took all the will she had to pull her cock from her mouth. But then the island breeze picked up, just enough to drive Chrissie over the edge, her pleasure-boosted body erupting into explosive, messy climax. She was horrified as a pleasured cry of "Moo!" escaped her throat, but it didn't matter, it felt so good... -o- Gwen lay in a panting heap, covered in her own cum. Her body ached from all the positions she had put herself into, all the things she had done, all the creative ways she had wrung from her mind to pleasure herself to put on a show for Yeania. She'd lost track of the number of times she'd climaxed, but it never seemed to be enough. The one she desired was always just one or two away, meant to be triggered by her mistr... her voyeur's approval. The elf had merely sat and watched, slowly stroking herself with a bemused smile on her face. "Good, very good." She purred, bringing a smile to Gwen's cum-covered face, "Now let's see what you can do with your new limitations." "L-limitations?" Gwen stammered, not comprehending. She'd been lying in the sand for several minutes, catching her breath. It seemed like she'd bee at it for hours, the light in the sky dimming. The elf grinned and nodded towards Gwen's side. The redhead followed her nod and saw nothing. She raised her hands to motion her confusion when she saw the change. Her eyes widened in confusion and horror; the skin of her hands had turned black. As she watched she could see her fingers flowing together, forced to bend as they grew shiny, forming into a large hoof. "Wh-what?" she whispered, not understanding. She looked down over her body, seeking out additional changes. Her cock had continued to grow as she'd played with it, the shape changing, becoming thicker, until it was a perfect match for Yeania's own. Down beyond her equine length, however, was another change. Her legs had altered, and where her feet had been there were now only heavy, cloven hooves. "H-how long have they been like that?" she stammered. The elf grinned, standing, "About two and a half hours or so. Now, pleasure yourself for me. Just one more time. One more time and then I'll let you go. The three of you will have paid for your inhospitality enough by then, I think." Gwen blushed and lowered her head, "I... I'm sorry. Ch-Chrissie..." "Is going to be getting the brunt of the punishment. Now show me what a good little toy you can be and pleasure yourself for your new owner, hmm?" Gwen's eyes closed and she smiled faintly, she liked being called a toy, and Yeania her owner. She'd felt a strange connection to the elf from the moment she'd laid eyes upon her. She trusted the relative stranger, once Chrissie had learned her lesson, things would be better. Her pleasured cry echoed over the beach as she shoved an entire hoof into her long ignored snatch. "Good girl. Now, cum for me..." Yeania said, leaning down, planting a gentle kiss on her pet's cock. The kiss gave Gwen greater pleasure in a single moment than all her masturbation had in hours, every muscle in her body tensed and seemed to explode into blissful sparks in response to her reward for a job well done. Rather than closing, her eyes opened wide, watching Yeania walk away over a dune, watching her shadow stretch out behind her, a strange, winged shadow... -o- It had taken a good forty five minutes for Chrissie to wash the cum out of her hair, partially because there was so much of it, and partially because she was not at all used to having only three digits on each hand and not five. She'd staggered back to the boat on unsteady hooves, rubbing absently at an odd itch upon her belly. To her horror she found a cum-covered Gwen sprawled out breathlessly in the sand beneath the beached boat. The redhead had been almost in a daze, calling Chrissie 'Yeania' and 'Mistress.' She'd been unable to do much more than cling to Chrissie, who had used her new bovine bulk to carry her friend into the water and clean her up. Even as she'd come back from her trance, Gwen had not been any help. She couldn't help scrub at all with her hoof-hands. It was annoying, but Chrissie made sure she was squeaky clean before taking her back aboard the boat. If she smelled like sex all night, Chrissie was sure she'd have her cock down Gwen's throat sometime during the night. Having tucked Gwen into bed, Chrissie had went to look for Casey, and to her horror found her floating in the shower, which had been almost entirely filled up with water. Not bothering to care about the boat's furnishings, she'd wrenched the door open, soaked everything in the bathroom with soapy water. Casey had fallen asleep in the shower, and seemed no worse for the wear, the gills obvious upon her neck. Chrissie wasn't sure if Casey was changed more or less than herself and Gwen. Casey's coloration had been entirely altered, pure white from head to toe, save for a few cerulean designs on her arms, hips, and back. She'd murmured softly and curled around Chrissie, murmuring something about how warm the cow-girl was. Chrissie had sighed and carried her friend to the same bed where she'd tucked Gwen into. Despite the potential for something sexual happening, Chrissie didn't want to sleep alone. IF she did, she'd have nothing to dwell on but her conflicting feelings of fear, isolation, disgust, confusion, lust, desire, satisfaction, arousal, and so many others. Gwen yawned and pressed up against Chrissie, hugging her tightly and crossing her hooves over the bovine's waist. The cow-girl sighed softly, emotions conflicting inside of her. She hated the alterations to be body, hated how they looked, but loved how they felt. She wanted nothing more to leave the strange island in the sky and get back to everything being the way it was before. But if that was what she wanted then why did the ship finally feel warm and welcoming? Why then, after a few months sailing around the world, did Chrissie finally feel like she was home? Maybe the answers would be forthcoming in the morning...

Toys Make the Woman Traci barely made it in the door to her apartment before she virtually ripped off her clothes. She had her jacket over one arm, had unbuttoned her top coming up the stairs, had her boots unlaced at a spotlight on the drive home, and unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks walking down the hall. She was down to her bra and panties in moments. She unfastened her bra and tossed it aside, moaning softly as she cupped her breasts, her hands tracing up and down her perfect body. She reached down and turned up the control unit clipped to the waistband of her panties, the almost imperceptible thrum of the egg vibrator inside her sex rising to a low hum that would have been audible to anyone within a five feet of her at the office. She was such a naughty girl, a slutty, sexual, sensual creature completely devoted to her own body. She loved playing with herself, teasing herself, tormenting herself, exploring herself. Bringing her sexuality into new and interesting arenas in which she could fling herself head long into. It was a rare occasion that Traci was as horny as she was at this very moment. Everything had arrived in the mail for the wonderful weekend she had planned. The very thought of it moistened her sex every time she thought of it at the office. As the week dragged onward it filled her mind more and more, requiring frequent trips to the ladies' room to relieve the built up pressure. That was why she had taken a risk and had gone to work with the small vibrator stuffed into her aching cunt. She walked to the bathroom with a blissful smile on her face. She filled one of the two sinks with hot water, pumping a few squirts of soap into it. She removed her sodden panties, tossing them in the hamper. She reached into herself, gripping the egg shape with her fingers, moaning at the sensation of drawing the orb out of her hungry, eager sex. The time for even stronger pleasures was at hand, she didn't need her little friend any more. She turned it off and brought it to her mouth, the lips of her mouth opening to welcome it as those of her sex had moments before. Traci mmmed happily as she sucked her own juices from the toy before pulling it out, licking the cord that attached it to the control unit clean as well. More soap went into her hands as she dutifully scrubbed her toy clean, than placed the waterproof item in the sink to soak. Traci began to finger herself with one slick, soap sudded hand, two fingers inside herself, thumb caressing her oversized, engorged clit. She mentally thanked her sister once again for referring her to the offices of Doctor C.S. Baine, a woman whose medical talent spanned many areas. She worked wonders on people, though she seldom advertised. Almost all her business came from word of mouth referrals from other patients. Traci's sister, Alicia, had gone in for a breast augmentation, and when the treatment was said and done she was stacked, having gone from almost flat, to having a pair of perfect D cups. Traci had taken an appointment out of curiosity, wondering how the doctor had accomplished the feat without any surgery whatsoever. It was just pills, injections, and 'treatments,' which were apparently something hush hush, as Alicia said she couldn't talk about them. Though she said that it hadn't hurt a bit, and was actually kind of fun. When Doctor Baine had asked Traci the things that she would like to change about herself, all of them were small suggestions. A slightly trimmer area here, a little wider there, breasts a little larger and perkier, an overall increase in muscle tone, and a decrease in body fat were the only things she desired. And to Traci's surprise after just a few weeks of pills and bi-weekly injections at the doctor's office, she found her body responding, the slight shifts that she had wanted appearing slowly, and her body changing at what seemed a natural rate. It had been simply an introductory procedure, but Traci had felt incredible while on it. She wanted more. But she couldn't think of anything else to change. Baine had suggested an increased sensitivity regiment after Traci had undergone a sort of interest profile. She wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but she'd ended up spilling the whole thing of about how she wasn't attracted to anybody else, and delighted in pleasuring herself in new and interesting ways. Baine hadn't thought she was weird or anything, and had made several suggestions that Traci had found fascinating. That had been a month ago, and Traci was just loving her second series of enhancements. Somehow she had become more graceful, more flexible, more dexterous. Her reflexes were amazing. Traci had accidentally knocked a glass off the counter a few days earlier, and than managed to reach out and catch it before it hit the floor. The flexibility thing had worked as well, she could bend herself in ways that only a skilled contortionist was capable of, though there was only really one thing about the ability that she had wanted. Traci could perform cunnilingus on herself. Her tongue had gotten a little longer as well, though that hadn't been something that she had talked about with the doctor. But she wasn't complaining. Her clit, however, had been an oddity. It seemed to be growing outward and expanding. It was about the size of a half dollar, a slight hemispherical shape to it. It looked strange, but Traci quickly found she didn't mind that either, it felt incredible to touch. Just the smallest caress was enough to make her shiver. Traci had also found her sensitivity increasing as promised, a rubbing of hands across her breasts, rump, or thighs gave her wonderfully erotic tinglings, and her already sexually sensitive nipples were able to bring an orgasm out of her with the proper stimulation. She couldn't get enough of herself. She had always had a powerful sex drive, it took ages for her to tire before. But now? Somehow Doctor Baine had made it so that she never wore out, never chaffed, never got the painful hypersensitivity that she'd had in the past. She could, and had twice in the past month, stuffed a vibrator into herself and left in there for days on the highest setting. The toy's batteries had given up before Traci had. With a soft sigh Traci removed her fingers from herself, she needed both hands to carry what she needed from closet to tub. Usually she would lounge in the tub until the hot water ran out, playing with her various water toys. But she didn't want to wait any longer for the thing she'd been thinking about all week long. The shower was just to get herself clean, inside and out. Mmm... warm water... -o- Twenty minutes later Traci stepped out of the bathroom, her tanned skin glistening with a few stray drops of water missed by her towel. She could barely restrain herself from running to her closet, forcing herself to walk. She opened the door, smiling down at the beautiful black latex items hanging there. Her lizard suit. Traci had no idea where the idea had come from, usually she didn't think up things as involved as this, but the whole concept had popped into her head and lingered. She was going to spend the weekend becoming a lizard. It had cost a great deal to get the mechanics of the gloves, boots, and tail right, but it would all be worth it. She was going to start out as a humanoid lizard, just wearing the gloves, boots, and tail, dressed in the custom jeans she'd had made. She would spend the first few hours exploring herself with slick, three fingered hands with rounded gecko-like fingertips. The tail had a piece that slid into her rump, allowing her to make it bend in different ways by clamping down on various parts of the 'control dildo' with her anus. Both her lower orifices had developed a bit of odd musculature, Traci found that she could sort of manipulate things inside of her, allowing her to move things in, push them out, move them around inside of her. She had placed three colored balls inside her sex, and switched the order around somehow. She wasn't quite sure how she did it, the process made her just about black out with the memory of the way it felt. As time went on, she'd don more and more pieces of the suit and inflate parts of her gloves and boots, filling them with water, making it harder to bend and move her fingers, making them more like paws. The built in restraints on the suit would prevent her from bending her legs in certain fashions, and the last phase was not being able to move them much at all. She'd be forced to crawl around her apartment on all fours like a belly crawling lizard, her nipples and her sex forced to rub against the tile and carpet flooring. The tail went on first, the dildo sliding easily into her rump courtesy of another recently discovered oddity, her ass would lubricate itself right before she wished to insert something into it. Her sex was also the same way, secreting a slick liquid that was kind of like precum, but different. It left a slick, greasy feeling on her fingers when Traci rubbed it. She hadn't a clue what it was, but she was thankful for it. Though she still used the occasional specialty product for a certain effect, simple penetration was achieved comfortably on her own, and Traci rather liked that. The tail was held on by straps that went around her waist, thighs, and between her legs. Traci took a few experimental steps, gasping softly as the dildo seemed to thrust in and out of her with each step as the latex creation swayed from side to side. The boots went on next, the feeling of soft, smooth latex on her skin made Traci moan softly. Before she put her gloves on, she blew up several pink balloons. The feeling of them between her legs had been something she'd found incredible arousing the past few weeks. Her gloves went on next, and were kept in place by straps at the top. Traci would have to fumble at the straps for awhile with her clumsy lizard fingers in order to get them off. Traci licked her lips and selected two dildos from her collection, strangely shaped ones that didn't look at all human. She was going to roleplay her 'transformation,' being fucked and mounted by fearsome lizard creatures in their nest. She tossed the two dildos on her bed, slipping into her custom jeans and a tight white t-shirt that clung to her breasts tightly and left her midriff exposed. The denim fit like a dream, and Traci couldn't help but fasten the button above her tail that would keep them on. She turned to look at herself in the mirror. With her clothes hiding the straps, Traci could almost believe that she was indeed in part a sexy black scaled lizardess, hungry for sex, capturing human females and dragging them into her nest, turning them into creatures like herself, eager brood whores ready to have their bellies filled with eggs. She shivered and fell to her knees, a powerful pre-climactic tremor coursing through her body. She had no idea where that thought had come from, but it felt incredibly exciting. She wished that she knew other people interested in kinks like this, so they could roleplay it out. Traci actually wanted to fuck somebody else for once, it was a novel urge. She shoved the thought away, concentrating on the matter at hand. She wrapped a number of the balloons in a sheet, placing the bundle on her bed. She licked her lips and pulled her pants down to her ankles, pulling up her shirt, exposing one breast as she lay down on the bed, rump in the air, belly resting atop the bundle of 'eggs.' Traci opened her mouth, her lips engulfing the purple dildo, its twelve inches of length sliding easily into her well practiced throat, its weighted base making it perfect for oral sex, as it wouldn't 'stick' in Traci's mouth and throat, allowing her to make the proper motions of fellatio. She moved the other to her sex, flicking the switch at the base that brought the vibrator inside to life, and shoved it roughly into her sex, making her hips buck involuntarily, which made her tail sway, which made the dildo jump in and out of her ass. She slid the base of the dildo beneath the straps between her legs that held her tail on, allowing her the use of both hands while keeping the sex toy securely between her legs. One hand grabbed one of the free balloons nearby, placing it between her legs. Traci gripped it with her thighs, delighting in the feeling of her clit rubbing against the now slick, smooth surface of the balloon. Her other hand went to her breast, her lizard gloved hand squeezing it hard. Mmm... it felt just as wonderful as Traci had imagined it would. She closed her eyes, letting her imagination take over, picturing herself in an earthen nest, smooth, black latex lizard creatures mating her however they could. She quickly fell into a half-awake half-asleep trance state, her dream world giving her some slight phantasmal sensation. Traci could feel the lizards slick bodies sliding over her soft human skin, their warm, thick seed, like liquid latex, filling her rump, filling her womb, filling her belly. She could just about feel her body changing, the warm, fluid feeling of her flesh warping, fingers merging and flowing to change their shape, her feet reforming, her wonderful tail pushing its way out of her rump. She had no idea how long she remained in her dream, she quickly lost the number of climaxes she had as she was reduced to a state of animal lust. She knew that at least an hour had passed, likely two, but she kept going, imagining male lizards emptying themselves and pulling away, allowing another male to fill the vacated hole. Only a slight pain in her belly pulled her out of her fantasy. The light blue silk sheets of her bed came into focus, her trance slipping away. Traci stopped bobbing up and down on the weighted dildo, licking her lips and removing the saliva that had gathered there. She giggled and wiped the drool from her chin and neck on the bed sheet. After one more orgasm she flicked the vibrating cock between her legs off, leaving it inside of her. All the latex like 'seed' caked on her sex would seal her to any other 'males' for awhile. Traci rolled over on the bed, pulling her pants back up, wondering what that brief pain had been. Her stomach rumbled loudly, answering her question. She chuckled, realizing she had dreamed her way past dinner. She reached behind herself and attempted to button her jeans, but found that they felt a bit tight all of a sudden. No matter, she wasn't sure what her waist measurement would be with the belt, or if her waist would shrink or expand under Doctor Baine's therapies, so there were several button holes on the strap side. She looked around for the balloon that had been between her legs, since it ought to be slick and wet with the outpouring of her fluids. Traci loved the taste of herself and wanted to lick it clean, but strangely she couldn't find it. What was stranger was that there seemed to be only one loose balloon in sight, while there had been nearly a dozen. They weren't on the floor, and a quick dip of her head over the side showed that neither had they rolled under the bed. A sudden pain, sharper than the first, made Traci double over. It sent nausea reeling through her body. Her eyes water, she couldn't help but clinch her teeth together and hiss and groan at the pain. It felt like her insides were on fire, like her sex and ass were burning. She pawed at her crotch with her clumsily gloved hands, strangely the pressure helped relieve the pain. Traci rubbed herself through the thick denim, laying down on the bed, instinctively moving her tail down between her legs to avoid harming the framework inside. She felt something weird between her legs, something round and solid, about the size of her fist. She unbuttoned the fly of her jeans, pausing in her stroking for a moment to pull them open. What she saw made her eyes widen in horror, awe, and fascination. She looked down to see the straps from her tail had vanished, sort of. They were still there, but they weren't straps any more, the buckles were gone. The latex straps had merged with her skin, she couldn't tell where they ended and she began. Traci ran her fingers over the place where tanned skin became black latex, and found it felt perfectly smooth and natural. there was nothing that gave any indication that the flesh and latex had once been two separate objects. With a start Traci realized that she had felt her skin through the fingertips of her gloved hands. She pulled off her shirt in a sudden panic, then shivered. The gloves had merged with her own skin as well, their straps having vanished as well. But what what really freaked her out was the way her nipples looked, the slick, reflective black of the lizard suit. She fumbled with the button above her tail, pulling her jeans off, kicking them aside, wanting to get a good look at her crotch. Everything was pink and black. The straps from the tail that went around her thighs had merged with her body as well, and they were beginning to fade. They didn't look like straight lines any more, they were starting to look more like markings on an animal. And then there was... that. With a shudder, Traci closed her eyes, counting to ten, thinking that it was just another one of her trance dreams. But nothing happened, the latex remained merged with her, and the strange spherical projection from her crotch remained. It looked like her pussy had been moved onto an orb that stuck out from her body in the front. It was all pink, shiny, and glistening. Halfway between smooth, aroused, moistened cuntflesh and shiny clothing type latex. It was impossible to stop herself, Traci found her hands going to the weird thing, gasping as her fingers touched the smooth pinkness. Her pussy lips had also become latex, colored black. She wanted to explore this odd new part of herself. The latex-merged girl leaned back, lifting her legs, tucking them underneath her arms, taking one of the positions she usually used for auto-cunnilingus, but with non-sexual thoughts on her mind for once. Traci bit her tongue as she spread the lips of her altered sex, trying to fight off the urge to start fingering herself. She found that she opened easily, stretching effortlessly. For the most part it looked normal, other than the fact that it seemed to be made entirely of black latex, but at the front and back of her sex were strange things. Where her clit used to be was what appeared to be something that looked like the neck to a balloon, but thicker. She explored it with her fingertips, pleasurable shivers coursing through her body. It didn't seem like it led anywhere, just a reservoir or something a few inches deep. Traci could feel the contours of the strange cavity. It felt wet and gooey inside, like her sex. Not sure of what it was, she left it alone. The other oddity was at the bottom of her sex, hidden beneath a fold of latex skin. It took a little prodding to get it popped out, but there was no mistaking what it was. It was rubbery, and translucent pink rather than the traditional clear, but it was a valve of some sort, like the kind you'd find on a pool toy. Curiosity overwhelmed her, Traci wanted to see what it was for. She flipped it open and pinched it with her fingers, an erotic thrill coursing through her body that was only enhanced as she put her lips to it and exhaled. She felt a pleasant fullness filling her belly. She continued to blow into the valve, until she felt a little uncomfortable. She suddenly felt a little cramped holding the position she had held effortlessly until know. Traci moved her legs back down and discovered where the air went. Her belly had increased in size, making her look several months pregnant. The skin of her belly appeared partially translucent, and slightly pinkish in color. Her hunger pangs returned with a vengeance. Traci needed to eat NOW! That was when her eyes fell on the single remaining free balloon on her bed. She licked her lips involuntarily, grabbing the balloon, looking to bring it to her mouth, but it seemed to catch on her belly. Traci watched as the pink balloon seemed to flow into her belly, her skin growing even more pink and latex like. Somehow she had tasted it, and it tasted wonderful. Like nothing she had ever eaten before. Her belly had also expanded as it brought in the air from the balloon into her inflated midriff. With that mere taste, Traci was suddenly ravenous. She reached underneath the balled up sheet, pulling out one of the 'nest' balloons, bringing that one to her belly as well. She giggled as it pushed into her as well. She knew that she shouldn't do this, that she should go for help to try and fix herself, but she couldn't, she was so hungry, and it felt so good. She 'ate' every last one of the balloons. The skin of her belly and breasts becoming shiny pink latex in the process. Traci rubbed her inflated belly, shivering at the delightful sensations it sent through her body. Her belly was inflated to the point where it was translucent, she could see into herself, and she could see nothing. No organs, no blood vessels, no nothing. Just a sea of translucent pink and some black bits inside of her in the general area where her womb was supposed to be. Traci was pretty sure she was beyond medical help now, her body now far more latex than flesh. She bit her bottom lip, bit it hard, expecting to draw blood. But instead of the metallic iron taste that she had expected, she found the familiar taste of latex. She put a hand to her wounded lip and pulled it away, traces of transparent liquid latex appearing on her pure black skin. Traci sighed softly, realizing she wasn't flesh and blood at all any more. She found herself becoming more and more curious about her new form, and less and less frightened. It would take her awhile to discover all the strange new things she could do with her body. There was a whole new realm of sexual sensation available to her now. Things no one had ever felt before, experiences no other woman had ever had. She smiled, still feeling a bit hungry. She looked down at the dildo laying on the bed. It was made or rubber or latex, or something similar too, was it not? She picked up the purple faux-member and brought it to her belly, it didn't absorb into her body like the balloon did. Maybe she needed to put it somewhere else? The latex lizard-human began to bring the dildo to her crotch, and then stopped. She smiled, wanting to see the process in action. She set the dildo down and felt for her air valve, giving it a hard pinch near the base. Traci nearly fainted at the sensation of the air rushing out of her, it felt like a continuous climax, similar to her cunt just gushing and gushing and gushing. Indeed, she felt warm wetness trickle down onto her hand from her cunny. She gleefully watched her belly deflate, reveling in another new sexual sensation from her balloon-like body. Her tummy, which had looked nine months pregnant moments before was back to the muscled, trim, lithe shape it was a few minutes before, looking no worse for the wear from the inflation. With a giggle Traci brought the dildo the the strange orb-like this that housed her genitals. Her theory had been correct, as the moment she brought the purple length in contact with her body, the base began to flow into her, the weighted metal piece falling away onto the bed. Oddly enough, it didn't siphon away any more than that. A moment's thought revealed the solution. Traci pressed the blunt end of the phallic shape into the balloon neck-like space where her clit used to be. A small climax was her reward as she watched the purple member turn black as it attached itself to her. She smiled and began to stroke her new member, delighting in the new sensation. Hmmm, but could it be removed, allowing her to go back to being female? With that very thought she lost all sensation in the length, which fell into her hand, no longer attached, but still black. She instinctively pushed it into her pussy, feeling her love tunnel pull the rod into itself, pulling the material back into her body. Traci wondered if the dildo was lost forever or... oh! Just as she thought of it re-appearing from her sex, the toy did just that. The latex creature smiled and looked to her closet. She was never going to be without her collection of toys ever again! But first things first, Traci thought. She had played with her new body enough for now. She needed explore herself more. She stood up and stretched a wonderful, luxurious, boneless stretch, her body extending several inches as she stretched each part of herself. It felt... good. Traci was beginning to like her altered body more and more. She took a step forward and felt a small jolt of pleasure shoot through her as her tail swung to the side. Interesting, and fun. Traci walked to the bathroom, each step giving her a small, sexual reward. Her tail must have, in part, retained the thrusting motion that it originally was meant to have when it was just a sex toy and fashion accessory. Traci decided she just might take up jogging. She looked at herself in the mirror, delighting in what she saw. Her entire body was most definitely latex, even her hair. She appeared to be developing a pattern of pink and black. Black on her extremities with pink markings, fading into pink with black markings as it neared her body. But she wasn't all pink and black. Most of her back, neck, head, and shoulders still retrained its human coloration. With a chuckle Traci ran to her closet, knowing just how to fix that. All she had to do was place her hand on the remained of the lizard suit, and it began to flow into her body. She could feel it flow inside of her to the areas where it was needed, filling out her shoulders and back. All that remained was one piece, and she knew in her heart that it would have to be put on manually. Traci picked up the lizard mask in her hands, looking into its empty eye sockets. Putting it on would be accepting what she had become, giving up on returning to a truly human form. She would be a latex lizard for the rest of her life. Well... maybe not. She might learn how to mold herself into other shapes. But she had a choice now, she could try and find help, maybe go back to the way she was. Or Traci could embrace what had happened to her, she could fully become the a living latex lizard, a walking, talking sex toy. Without a moments hesitation she slide the mask onto her face, gasping softly as her face flowed outward to fill it. She opened her eyes, her rubbery tongue exploring her elongated muzzle, tracing over pointed rubber teeth. She felt it with her hands, running them back to where her hair used to be, now a proud, lizard's crest that ran down her neck. She needed more mass, she wasn't quite done yet. Traci knew she could just push them out from her body again once she had eaten an article of her latex clothing. She devoured half her collection before her hunger and finally been satiated. Traci took a step back from the closet, taller, thicker, more muscular. Her legs now digigrade, suited for speedy running. While she retained her gecko looking fingers and toes, she has also developed hard plastic claws, spikes, and horns. Her tail swayed from side to side behind her, pleasured jolts coursing though her body. The latex lizard grinned a fanged grin, it was time to move her collection of sex toys to a much more convenient and easy to reach location... -o- Time passed, maybe hours, maybe days. The lizard girl has fallen asleep in her bed, her rubbery muscles never tiring, only her mind requiring sleep to recharge, to dream, to search for new ideas in the depths of her subconscious. She has discovered more valves, one in her tailhole that makes her backside and hips take on 'ghetto booty' proportions and beyond. One underneath each arm that make draconic wings extend from her back. One beneath her tongue that makes her breasts expand, and one near the tip of her tail that makes her look more muscular, and another next to it that makes her look overweight. With the proper toy applied, she becomes a true hermaphrodite, her cock gushing liquid latex of any color she desires. Or cocks. She had discovered several other mounting points, able to add a cock to her tongue or tail, either of her nipples, able to turn her fingertips in phalluses, or make her hands vanish entirely, taking on any of the phallic forms that she's consumed. She can also merge traits of the sex toy's she's consumed into a single member. A soft blue glow filled the room, a six armed, black and blue scaled serpent-woman slithering into Traci's bedroom. Doctor Baine, much more comfortable in her true form, approaches the bed, the large, heavy, latex lizard's bulk easily hefted. The serpent kisses her newest pet on the cheek, drawing a happy "Mmm." from Traci. "You have your heart's desire, pet. To never have to do anything more than pleasure and be pleasured, to feed off pleasure, to be one with your toys. To never have the stop, never needing to interrupt your heart's desire with a boring office job. I don't just give people the bodies of their dreams, dear. I give them their dreams themselves. Now, we better get going, there's a busty latex feline that can't wait to meet you." Baine cooed to the sleeping lizard. "Murrr... Alicia..." she whispered in her sleep. "That's right, dear." came the serpent's reply, slithering into the portal, closing behind the two without leaving a trace.