Code White Emergency - Part 2 (Patreon Commission+ for Wanderer-Rychen)

TAGS: Taur/Boobtaur, Multi/Hyper Multi, Growth/Hyper Growth, Lactation/Hyper Milk, Hyper Hyper

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The beast from without, having sensed that its end was fast-approaching… did not know what to do. Never before had it encountered anyone like Starry, not even all the other times it had found a Starry before; it had never won, but it had convinced itself it was only a matter of time: ultimately, those had all been “close calls” (at least, in its head), and it was due for a win at some point.

So for it to poke its tendrils into this reality and not only find one of the biggest Starries in existence, but one that fought back against it almost immediately after contact, sent it reeling back into its pocket dimension, hoping maybe it could find some solace and protection. It was only then that it came to realise just how off-mark it was, for the moment it tried to pull back its tendrils was the moment the taurvix followed it.

Starry herself wasn’t doing it, of course; she was a tad too preoccupied losing her composure and whatever was left of her sanity in what had to be the biggest multiple nipplefuck of her, an expression she never thought she’d ever employ. Her body was doing what it did best: grow, surge, bloat, multiply, and it just so happened to have a perfect target to aim for in the form of… whatever that entity was. The poor lynx was already buried underneath a single breast; Starry didn’t know whether they were the creature or just its puppet or shadow, but whatever they were, they’d better enjoy the warm embrace of an ever-expanding bosom, because they weren’t getting out any time soon.

And the creature itself was about to learn what it was like to try and bite off significantly more than it could chew. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, it had two options: either retreat fully, and let that Starry follow it back into its home plane, or try to push forward and hope for the best. The former was a definite loss, while the latter… was probably also one, but still had a remote, non-zero chance of actually working.

It was unlikely to the point of being nearly impossible, but there was always that one, fleeting spark of a dream of a hope that maybe, if it just did well enough, it could push in and turn the tables of the taur. They were so preoccupied by their own growth and burgeoning expansion that, surely, if enough force was applied, then at the very least the entity would gain some time to quickly retreat, shut down the dimensional portals, and let that universe deal with its own problems while it found another one to hunt in.

One good shot at it, and not a single one more. The creature gathered what strength it had left, produced as many tendrils as it could, and waited for the right moment to strike; Starry’s body seemed to bloat and (slightly) vent in cycles coinciding with her heartbeat, and if it just managed to catch her on one of her rare lows, then it could make its way in and force its tentacles into her. Then, maybe, it could proceed with the next stage of its plan.

Starry was, of course, not having any of it, or at least her body wasn’t about to take it lying down. While her conscious self was adrift in a sea of serotonin and too busy processing the backlog of sensory information coming from her enormous form, her muscles and lizard brain knew exactly what to do; thus, when they felt the grip of the tendrils around their nipples tighten, and a series of additional appendages poke at the buds as if wanting to make their way in… they waited.

They waited, and baited the creature into taking a step it wouldn’t be able to take it, appearing as if they were too busy indulging in growth to defend themselves against a “surprise” attack. And when they felt power welling up on the other side of the many rifts, they decided against telling their owner what they were about to do; Starry was quite busy losing her goddamn mind at the pleasure of it all, so it fell to her subconscious processes to handle the threat.

It was all over in an instant. The creature saw fit to forgo the usual foreplay and simply pump a multitude of eggs down its tendrils and into Starry, figuring there ought to be enough room in those tits of hers to house a couple of seed deposits; these initial ones weren’t designed to hatch, but rather to dissolve and stimulate the growth of more eggs in a cascading, exponential process. In most cases, this would turn the hapless victim into a manufactory for the entity’s offspring… but Starry was definitely not most cases.

The moment the first eggs breached the taurvix’s nipples, her many racks bloated. It was a sound not unlike that of an angry, roiling ocean crashing against a cliff far greater than any in existence, the raw power of a storm smashing against land with enough strength to break rock into dust. The inn, for what it was worth, did keep up… though mostly by eliminating all the “rooms” within it and turning into one single, vast containment cell for what was now a vixen of such size that it put everything she’d been before to shame.

She had ten rows up top and twenty down below, each udder about as wide as a couple of cargo containers stacked in a line together. She had them, until the first batch of eggs utterly obliterated whatever size projection she might’ve once had, and brought her up to where her entire body, as it had been just moments before, struggled to take up the whole size of just one of her breasts.

Just one of her breasts, now arranged in triplets rather than the regular couplets. Just one of her breasts, still growing, until her “old” form was left tinier and tinier still. Just one of her nipples, the milktank capping it so immense that even the taurvix’s engorged form prior to the egg insertion looked like little more than a speck of dust next to her; even her body, her actual body, was so enormous that it could easily step on herself and not even notice, extra rows of arms sprouting underneath her original pair in a desperate attempt at venting some of the internal transformative pressure.

But alas, her busts had been seeded, and now they could never turn back around. All it took was that one batch of eggs, not even meant to hatch properly, for her whole body to be sent into overdrive… and for her milk production to break any conceivably constructable charge used to measure it. The entity beyond, unaware of this, incapable of understanding why there was so much brown fur spilling out from the rifts on its side of the veil, had a second or two to grasp the enormity of its failure before its tendrils were backfilled with but a fraction of Starry’s full dairy production. Nothing more than an insignificant smidgeon, but more than enough to end it.

From that point forward, it would still exist. It was still there, in the sense that it had a consciousness and was aware that it occupied a point in spacetime from which it could, technically, do things. But as soon as the flood of milk rushed into it, as soon as its tendrils were used as reverse hoses to fill the container they were meant to be draining, the entity no longer had a chance; all it could do was take it, and hope that, at some point in the future, it would recover its ability to think again, that it would be able to produce coherent thoughts rather than just want for more. For now, it was naught but an extension of Starry, of the same person it had tried to “collect”, as it became little more than a repository for the vixtaur’s sweet cream.

A vixtaur who, by then, had already begun to metamorphosize into a form best suited for what was to come. It was no longer milk: she had eggs to take care of now, and that meant she had to make room for them! And with said room being at a premium on most of her, this required further alterations to her base body plan; thankfully, Starry was flexible enough that her tauric carriage could, put simply, sprout another one: four legs down below turned to six, as a second section of her taurso began expanding from where her hind quarters had been just a moment before… and with them, further rows of milk makers.

Though, by then, they were hardly just dairy factories. As her second tauric half grew in, so too did additional buds sprout, rapidly expanding to meet the size of their brethren further up… but these were filled with more than just milk. Just as the breasts blessed with a direct deposit of eggs had adapted to producing more of them, so too did these extra racks come in equipped to start producing as well, going from little more than small dots underneath Starry to mammoth mounds capable of destroying skyscrapers if they were ever allowed near them. Up above, six pairs of arms did whatever they could to grope and squeeze whatever bit of flesh they could, but it was pathetically insufficient; she was no longer in control anymore.

Nothing was, really. Not even her automatic responses could decide where things went anymore; Starry’s muscle control had one last victory, and this one was turning the tables on the entity trying to stuff her with eggs. Now that this was accomplished, it was entirely up to fate, and just how long the inn around her could withstand her exponential growth; there was no doubt in her mind, or at least what part of it was left, that her form was growing at a distinctly non-linear rate: more eggs meant more milk, the milk fed the eggs, which then multiplied faster and led to improved dairy rates, again and again until the very fabric of reality around her began to quiver and shake as a result of her actions.

Hard to tell how many breasts were on her after a while. Starry was vaguely aware that each of her rows packed three, but when most of her surroundings were varying shades of brown, being able to pick apart one breast from another became more than a little difficult. The other hers though, they could definitely tell, and for the first time in eons, were so giddy that their giggling could be heard throughout their multiversal expanse.

It had been a while since they last saw a Starry with that much potential for growth; the last time that happened, the vixen collective had to do a hard reset just to make sure the entirety of existence didn’t collapse into a milky singularity. And yet, at no point did the many Starries learn any lesson from this; as far as they cared, it was just another chance for them to elevate another of their sisters into goddesshood, and in a way that breached so many dimensional layers that it’d likely have an effect on every other universe as well… potentially triggering a mythical Starry cascade.

Endless awakenings, kickstarted by just one absurdly powerful one, an infinity of vixens of all shapes and sizes (though mostly big), and yet more fodder for the collective of goddesses doing their best to bring the joy of themselves to every corner of meta-reality. There, lying atop enough breasts that they could scarcely be counted, was their ticket, their way in; they just had to make sure that it was properly tended to, that she was properly tended to.

And this meant making Starry hornier.

Not exactly difficult, given the circumstances. Their pet plaything was already overtaken by the deluge of milk coming from within just a handful of the taurvix’s breasts; most of it had already been overflowing and backblasting from the overtaxed tentacles that tried to fill them, leading to the inn, or whatever was left of the pocket dimension it was built into, to collapse outwardly.

It had done its duty. Its one job was to keep Starry contained for just long enough that she could be turned into a broodmother, at which point she’d be transported to a secondary pocket dimension where the entity, now little more than an extension of the vixen’s milky production, would take her as its living egg factory. It was never meant as a long-term storage option, and the fact it lasted for that long was quite literally an impossibility made manifest.

But there were limits to how much that Starry could stretch the line. She could only go so far before even the multiversal power of the Starry collective was no longer capable of sustaining the processes enabling the unfettered horny, at which point everything collapsed as reality flooded back in, one last attempt at reasserting itself in the face of oblivion. For some of the ascended vixens, it had been something quite simple, such as a compression bra failing or a wall finally breaking down. For others, the effects had been more severe: contained growth “spilling” out as their suppressants failed and the like.

For this iteration of the vixen, however, what followed her release from the inn was the complete annihilation of everything in a several mile radius.

It was impossible to avoid it. She’d already been at an insurmountably massive size before she went into the building, and the way she turned out just before the inn blew up, her form prior to crossing the threshold barely counted as a blip on a single one of her nipples. To call her gigantic would be a disservice to the word; gargantuan might be more like it, or perhaps awesome in the literal sense of the word, it being practically impossible not to look at Starry and feel some manner of life-changing paradigm shift.

Starry herself though, she… didn’t quite see it that way. From her perspective, all she had was a wall of brown in every direction around her, multiple arms pressed against it with enough force that she couldn’t move them, and enough sensory overload to make her stop thinking and appreciate the fact that her brain knew how to turn itself off. Judging how many breasts she had on herself had become a task so utterly beyond the realm of possibility that, for all the vixen knew, they were literally uncountable; not a clue how many per rack she had on herself either, so that was another multiplier she had to consider and then immediately discard for the sake of her sanity.

All the taurvix knew was that she had a lot of them, and they were so productive that even her existing nips weren’t enough to handle the overflow. Even when her body mutated again, giving, multiplying not just her udders further but the number of buds on each one, this still wasn’t enough to vent all the accumulated pressure; if anything, having four faucets through which to inundated everything around her, per breast, perpetually on full blast, seemed to encourage her tits to produce further!

Not that she was surprised at that point; she could sneeze and her body would consider that an excuse to make more milk. Hell, she could do literally nothing and her deranged endocrine system would turn that on its head and claim it was a good reason why she should be growing, filling, bloating, until nothing around her was left. She was well on the way to accomplishing that as well: Starry was reasonably certain, or at least would be had she still a mind to think properly, that there was supposed to be a city somewhere close by; the tourist trail into the woods wasn’t that long to begin with, and she didn’t exactly walk that far into it on account of her less-than-mobile status. With her size being what it was, she should have encroached upon the city even before her major growth spurt, so the way she was now…

Maybe she should’ve been more concerned about the fact that she obliterated an entire city. Maybe Starry should’ve thought more than once about being so enormous that a single one of her many, many tits could probably cover the entire downtown area. Maybe, if she were to be honest with herself, she should’ve considered it for more than a second how her milk production was likely to replace the planet’s oceans within a few minutes. She should’ve, but she didn’t, and precisely because those things were true; there was no mind there for her to think, no thoughts left besides those of self-indulgence and the experience of purest pleasure.

Apotheosis was inevitable at that point. The Starry collective wasn’t even trying anymore; their one move was to enable the ascent such that their newest sister could achieve it, but now? Now even they were impressed with how quickly this newest addition had empowered herself, so much so that a few were legitimately worried with how things were going; vixen ascension episodes usually followed a set pattern that this Starry in particular was completely ignoring, sparking concerns that she might be heralding some new form of growth that they were all unaware of.

That, and a non-insignificant amount of jealousy from all the Starries that weren’t hyper-developed boobtaurs with a near-infinite amount of milky udders. Well, natural ones; they could turn themselves into that form if they so desired, but there was something beautiful about having it be their natural body shape, something enticing. The notion of inherent superiority, perhaps? Of having a form so excessive that it stood as a testament to their power, in comparison to those that ascended to goddesshood with a perfectly reasonably proportioned, if exceedingly oversized physical frame?

Or, perhaps, a latent desire on the part of all Starries to be just like the one they were seeing: unbelievably big, uncontrollably so, their latent power bursting at the seams, forcing them to outgrow themselves again and again, until they stopped making sense and became a creature of pure carnal desire, one guided exclusively by their need to get off. A boobtaur, a cow, a giantess, a titaness, a goddess, rolled into one immensely milky package and then doubled on itself a few times over for good measure.

It was just a matter of time now. With the world quaking underneath the vixtaur, and the milk pouring from her teats reaching into orbit with very little difficulty, it was simply a case of waiting for that iteration of Starry to cross the energy boundary and join the rest of her sisters beyond the edge of her reality, to continue the cycle. It’d still take a bit; she seemed to be enjoying herself a bit too much, and that usually meant the ascension would be delayed until she was done getting off a few dozen times.

But there was more to it. None of the Starries knew it, but that one was special. Not in the sense that the taurvix was in any way different, but just… more. She was bigger, more productive, more powerful, just more, and power like that couldn’t simply be contained in one package, no matter how massive it might be; she could grow to encompass the entirety of reality, and this wouldn’t be enough, for ultimately, it would just be herself and no one else.

The first of the Starries to grow additional breasts without realising it did so like it was the most natural thing for them; most didn’t even notice them until their body plans began elongating and adopting a tauric shape, at which point it was too late to do anything about it. The first comments on things getting “cramped” came soon after, and from there, the inevitable cascade proceeded apace. Even the bigger ones among them came to understand something was definitely off when they felt themselves being pushed around, at which point their bodies spontaneously sprouted more udders where there used to be none, and their sizes skyrocketed even further.

As one, the collective knew what had just happened. As one, they came to the same conclusion, at the same time, in the same way. And as one, their minds blanked when their newest sister effortlessly bridged the gap between the mortal world and the collective’s own, simultaneously occupying more space than all existing Starries put together. As one, they achieved a second apotheosis, breaking whatever barriers might still exist in front of them as they ascended further beyond what should be possible, and as one, they all achieved the same revelation, an epiphany really:

There was still work to be done.