Against The Clock - Part 3-2 (Patreon Commission for VDO)

TAGS: A VDO Story (TM), Pokémon, Hyper/Hyper Everything, Extreme Perfection, Tentative Shared Universe

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So she waited, grimacing as the words “like a good girl” flashed through her head. Normally she’d be more than happy to employ them, but given the circumstances, she was certain her host family was thinking just that, and not in the good way either, leaving her with a foul taste in her mouth and a serious need to kick something down only to then rebuild it stronger than before. It was a habit; unfortunately, there were people in the way, which made it slightly more complicated.

She had to spend a good hour standing there, wondering whether she’d just been forgotten about, and even then they didn’t even open the door. Rather, the manservant outside informed her that she was welcome to “demonstrate” her abilities by moving in through the keyhole, which Mina found somewhat insulting; it wasn’t as if she could just turn her body into a squeezed-up tube, she just went through the door! Rolling her eyes, the Growlithe did just that, not-closing the door behind her as she found herself standing in front of a couple of Arcanines, each one a fraction of her size.

In that moment, Mina noticed two things: firstly, the home around her was significantly bigger than its supposed inhabitants needed it to be. Secondly, all the decorations were more or less glued to ground level, leaving a substantial amount of walls barren, and informing her as to why the whole place was as immense as it was… though, to be fair, the looks of expectant excitement stamped on the faces of her hosts were more than enough for Mina to know where things were headed, and certainly enough for her to start shaking her head and snorting as she realised what kind of tricks Harris’ mother had pulled.

Elsewhere, Lee was weighing his options and wondering whether he would be able to avoid any serious insult if he backed off at that exact moment. He’d agreed to a meeting under the assumption that it would be at least somewhat official, stuffy even: he’d sit down in a room with a bunch of deities who would all, presumably, want him to concede a great deal, then negotiations would begin and probably last for a couple of hours before the paperwork exchange began. That’s how it always happened, that’s how it was supposed to happen… so for him to instead be facing down three Abras who were very clearly more interested in him as a body than him as an individual and friend of Mina was, if nothing else, illustrative.

Of course it would turn out like this. How could it not? He’d known Harris for years and had already been introduced to his mother; much as the Alakazam might’ve spent a large amount of time and mental resources convincing himself that those two were “special” in some way, that they weren’t representative of most of the divine order, he always knew deep down that he had no evidence to prove that. Maybe they were unique… or, perhaps, the gods were all horndogs and he’d just walked into a trap without realising it.

Even so, he was going to do his best to get through the meeting with as little interruptions as possible, and as little overt lewdness as he could manage. There’d be ripped cloth, sure, but he was sure that he could maintain a certain amount of decency between himself and his three hosts… even if one of them was practically topless by then. The daughter, somewhere around his age if his eyes weren’t mistaken, had taken to bloating up her tits to the point where they were more or less just on the table, the same way a feast would be. Why he thought of them in those terms was anyone’s guess, but Lee wasn’t about to spend any time thinking about it…

… mostly because the father, who looked just as infatuated with the Alakazam as the other two at their side, had nearly toppled the table over thanks to how big his package had become. Couple that with (who Lee presumed was) his wife repeating their daughter’s stunt and making their chest swell up until there was barely any room, and the visitor was left wondering just what exactly he’d walked into. He wanted to ask what the problem was, but knew better: he knew that, the moment he opened his mouth, he’d have a nipple shoved inside of it or something as ridiculous as that.

“You know, it’s not every day we get someone like yourself around here,” the patriarch spoke up, sparing Lee the need to do so himself, “and I will say, if we’d known that they were sending us a specimen such as yourself, we’d have tidied up a bit more!”

Lee didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment, insult, or some condescending mixture of both. He decided upon nodding and smiling, figuring that was the best way to deal with all three options, and getting a couple of creaking growth spurts for his troubles.

“Why, he is quite handsome, isn’t he?” the mother responded, openly licking her lips as she stared up at Lee, breasts swelling all the while, “Almost reminds me of you when you were still at his stage. Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t stick with it more often, I mean… look at him.”

“I get to go first!” the daughter cut through, jumping off of her seat and leaning forward onto the already-creaking table, causing the poor thing to start cracking audibly under the weight of a pair of milktanks that were very audibly filling up, “No one gets a chunk of the professor until I’m done with him~!”

Well, he couldn’t say he was surprised. Hell, he could hardly say he hadn’t expected something like that; in Lee’s head, it only made sense that he be sent out to the one divine family with a thing for professor types, because obviously his mate Harris would never allow him to have a moment’s rest when it came to doing their job. Of course he’d end up in the one place that would enable his own fantasies, because this was Harris, and the Espeon was nothing if not a giddy enthusiast of indulging people even when they themselves knew better than to do so.

Then again, he couldn’t really complain, not when he had a captive audience who wanted him to go nuts and play into the role. Why, he could already feel his clothes becoming tighter as his own control began to falter, his body growing and bulking up the more aroused he became, becoming more aroused the bigger he turned out to be. Wouldn’t take long before the first rips and tears appeared, and from there it was a short trip over to open debauchery.

In sharp contrast, Harris himself was still sitting on his wide chair, staring down the two Umbreons he had in front of him. They hadn’t said a word to him in five minutes, and he didn’t see why he should be the one to break the ice; if anything, they were the ones who wanted the meeting to happen, so they should take the first step and put their cards on the table. Plus, the longer the silence went on, the more time the Espeon had to crack through their defences.

It was, perhaps, impolite for him to even try, but if the gods were going to be so obtuse as to actually propose that Mina was a threat, then all bets were off. If they chose to make a statement as absurd as that one, then Harris figured he owed them a lesson on humility; if they believed themselves so superior that no one should rise up to their level unless they allowed it, then it was his job to remind them that they weren’t nearly as powerful as they assumed they were.

Take those two Umbreon in front of him, for example. Dark types, with some divinity sprinkled on top for good measure. Typically, one would expect them to be highly resistant to psychic intrusion, perhaps even immune given their status; Harris happened to know that the couple was old, old enough to have seen the multiverse when it was still young and not nearly as ordered as it had been before the collapse. They were among the most respected members of the divine hierarchy, and if not for their penchant for being rabidly reactionary, would likely be called up for their opinion more often. They thought themselves paragons of the old order, unassailable, and unconquerable by any and all.

Which made it so much easier for Harris to backdoor his way into their minds without them realising it.

Truly, the best enemy to fight against was the one who believed themselves undefeatable. They did absolutely ridiculous things like simply not preparing for an attack, or indeed being on the lookout for one; if no one could take them on, then it stood to reason they shouldn’t ever bother spending any amount of time or resources in holding an hypothetical invader at bay! Harris thus had to try his best not to smirk like an idiot as he wormed his way into the minds of the two Umbreon, all while keeping a straight posture and appearing as if he was participating in their staring contest.

Occasionally, he’d sense some measure of resistance, but this was easily squashed, easily enough that his hosts didn’t take note of it happening at all. Maybe he’d flinch, maybe he’d have to readjust himself in his seat, but Harris had had enough “meetings” like that one to know how to disguise these movements as something more innocuous. The main goal was to keep pretending like he wasn’t breaking down mental barriers in the most literal way imaginable; then he could work on getting through to his hosts in a way that actually mattered.

In the meantime, his ass had to keep growing. Or, more specifically, he had to start letting it spill out. This was non-negotiable, as the Espeon was not going to just sit in a chair and not burst out of it; what was this, amateur hour? If the Umbreon couple gave him a place to sit, then they should’ve expected him to outgrow it immediately; that he didn’t was less a mark of dominance on their part and far more a show of respect and restraint on his… but now, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to keep pretending.

Now he just wanted to make his ass big enough to flatten the pillows underneath it. And the chair. And part of the flooring as well. All without actually moving, of course; his torso had to remain in the same position throughout, purely to show off what minute and precise level of control he had over his body, and how thoroughly outmatched his hosts were.

Not his cock though. That one was going to stay the way it was until the dams broke and the two nice old folks in front of him gave up trying to pretend they were in control and started begging for it instead. Then he’d make that beast of a shaft blow out of its containment field and right into the outside world, but not a moment too soon; in fact, maybe he’d avoid needing to do that at all, saving up all of it for Lee… whenever they got back from their assignment, probably covered in spunk and milk from head to toe.

The same thoughts graced Mewtwo as she wobbled up the driveway that led to her hosts’ home, a palatial estate located within the centre of a young nebula, alight with stars in their early stages of formation. A curious place to plop a house down, and quite likely a deliberate attempt at intimidating her, for all the good that would do its occupants. Slightly harder to walk with all the boob she had in front of herself, but still, she had an appointment, and she wasn’t one to arrive late.

Quite the contrary, as her host family had been expecting her to show up a couple of hours later, after everyone else involved with Mina had their meetings wrap up and the data could be compiled and used against the deity seen as responsible for the whole sequence of events leading up to said meetings being needed in the first place. Mewtwo, on the other hand, had no intention of operating on anyone else’s schedule, nor was she going to sit around waiting for ammunition to be made just so it could be fired at her.

Thus, she walked up the driveway, ignoring the twinkling stars on all sides of her, keeping the tray of cookies atop her cavernous cleavage for all to see… the cookies, of course, not the cleavage; the latter was already obvious, Mewtwo would’ve been shocked to find out her hosts weren’t expecting her to show up dressed like that. Hell, she went out of her way to knock on the door using her tits rather than her hands as well, though by that point, one could see that more as a necessity than anything else.

It was easy enough to impose herself, not so easy to do so while still maintaining goodwill. Divine politics were a bore half the time and frustrating to the point of madness for the other half, and navigating the byzantine corridors of it without losing one’s mind was a nearly insurmountable task even for most of the gods themselves. Very few of them even tried, hence why power had slowly gravitated into the hands of those with the patience and power to play the Game… and Mewtwo, who had the raw power and attraction needed to serve as a proverbial monkey wrench in everyone’s plans purely by showing up and being herself.

They couldn’t technically deny a polite request to meet a specific family. They couldn’t tell her that a perfectly reasonable and well-elaborated argument was wrong just because it was inconvenient for the non-Mina side; or rather, they could, but to do so they’d have to give something up in return as per divine protocol, and the cost would be too great for whatever gain they’d get from calling Mewtwo’s bluff. This carried on for quite a long while, after which deliberation finally reached the conclusion that it was better to grin, bear it, and hope that the two hosts picked for Harris’ mother could withstand her assault for long enough not to succumb to the allure of… well, her.

Wishful thinking at the best of times. As the door creaked open and Mewtwo walked inside, making short work of the frame and walls when she chose not to squeeze herself through via dimensional distortion, she already had the biggest smile on her face: the battle had been won in the backstage days prior, and this, this “meeting” as the other gods insisted on calling it, was nothing if not a formality, nothing if not theatre… and, if that was the case, there was no reason not to enjoy herself with some quality entertaining.

Hence, when she made her way through the estate, she did so in a very literal fashion: no shortcuts, no teleporting, Mewtwo walked all the way from the front door down to the dining hall, where her hosts were waiting for her. Plenty of damage was left in her wake: pottery knocked over, sections of the house flooded when she accidentally squeezed her tits too much, sections of the house flooded when she “accidentally” squeezed her tits too much, even the odd wall being taken down whenever she tripped on her produce and needed support from a hard surface.

In any other circumstance, this would’ve been seen as a gross violation of hospitality and grounds for Mewtwo to be kicked out, but she knew the inhabitants of that estate better than anyone else, and knew full well they were chomping at the bit to see her make an entrance. They’d never admit it: a pair of Blazikens that wielded power unimaginable, the very essence of the stars at their fingertips, falling for such an easy trick? Why, that’d be scandalous if it were true, hence why it couldn’t be… at least not outside those walls.

Within them, their little secrets could be allowed out, if only for the shortest of times, if only for the most select of guests. Within those walls, they could afford to let Mewtwo know just what they thought of her and her “gifts”, just how eagerly they were awaiting her; she could hear them before she saw them, openly begging for her to get closer while trying to sound like they weren’t half as desperate as they truly were, both of them bringing the heat up the more their visitor approached the centre of the estate. By the time Mewtwo arrived at the door, she was sweating like she was in a sauna, and, in many respects, she absolutely was.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? To drive her host’s need and arousal up to such an extent that they stopped worrying about keeping themselves under control and chose to do something stupid, like allow their body temperature to rise to such heights that their own home began to suffer. Like openly drooling when they saw the doors open wide and Mewtwo walk in, slorshing so aggressively that it was almost superimposed on the unashamed moaning coming from both Blaziken. Like getting up from their seats only to almost immediately throw themselves onto their visitor, no care nor concern for what she might think of such a course of action.

Of course, Mewtwo didn’t care. She had them right where she wanted them.

Mina, in sharp contrast, didn’t quite know what to do with her two hosts. Not only were they full Arcanines, creating a certain element of awkwardness where she had no clue whether or not this was a deliberate choice, but they seemed very… attached. Far more so than she expected them to be, actually; the Growlithe had gone in waiting to be treated so coldly that her own warmth would be dampened, but all it took was her coming in for both of the gods below her to throw themselves at her pawbs and start openly rubbing them.

It wasn’t new by any means; she was quite used to people doing that, and in fact had more often than not encouraged others to make good use of her softness. It was part of the process, and who was she to deny the world a body that had been made to specification to improve others’ lives? But there, in the halls of divinity itself, it just felt… off. To a certain extent, Mina wanted to feel like there was some kind of difference, for no other reason than because she felt like there should be; the thought that the gods themselves were no different from mortals opened a great deal of cans of worms that she had no intention of even touching.

Yet, there was very little to differentiate between when a random mortal like herself climbed onto her, and when those two did the same. In fact, it felt very much the same, which was just really awkward as far as Mina was concerned: surely, if she was there to discuss her future employment and potential divine association, there should be a modicum of respect for decency, shouldn’t there? Unless Harris and his mother had set the whole thing up as one long and convoluted scheme to take over the bureaucracy through sheer horny, but that was just silly; Harris hated paperwork.

No, it stood to reason that the simplest explanation was that her own body had, unfortunately, reached a point where it overwhelmed even the senses of the gods themselves, which was… not good. If she was already on thin ice for her attempted “usurpation” of the “divine order”, then goodness knew what was going to happen when word spread that her presence was enough to make even the deities themselves lose control of their libidos; she’d be on the chopping block faster than she could raise a finger to protest, and then she’d be forced to actually retaliate, and then things would get ugly.

They couldn’t really do anything to her, but that didn’t mean she was just going to stand there and take it if the gods decided to move on her. Push come to shove, Mina was reasonably sure she knew what was best for the little ones down on the mortal plane, and if there was a choice between herself and no gods, and just the gods alone… well, she didn’t think it was too prideful to choose the former. Harris’ mom excluded, she was a good one. And probably about half of the hierarchy as well, Mina couldn’t really blame the bureaucrats. Honestly, most of it would probably be fine by her reckoning? It wasn’t as if corrupt oligarchies were the fault of people just trying to get by without having their heads rolling.

No, the problem was people like those two Arcanines, who had usurped power for themselves and were now apparently terrified that someone might show up and take it from them. Yet, at the same time, were more than happy to make good use of her whenever it was most convenient, which was nothing if not insulting. On the other hand… Mina sighed. She did want to feel insulted, since at least then she believed she had some reason for that to be the case; in fact, the Growlithe was certain that she had every right to be offended at the way she was being treated, but looking down at the two “gods” now snuggling underneath her pawpads, how could she be mad?

They were just like the precious little ones she left behind: cold, and in desperate need of a warm hug by a warm giantess who had nothing but love for them. Maybe that’s why they held onto their positions so fiercely: they were just terrified of the idea of chaos and disorder, and had convinced themselves that only they could prevent the universe from falling into disrepair again. After all, had it all not fallen to pieces already? Did they not have to spend an inordinate amount of aeons putting it back together before conventional life could even exist at all? It was only natural that they see someone like herself as dangerous, a potential hotspot for a new universal meltdown, if not a multiversal one.

She knew better, of course, but how could she expect others to do the same? Mina looked down at herself, and for the first time in what felt like years, she tried to do so from someone else’s perspective. It was difficult, being as used to her absurd levels of excess as she was, but every once in a while, it broke through to her: that she wasn’t normal.

Mina wasn’t an idiot. She knew, better than anyone else, that what she did was far beyond what anyone else could, gods included, and there was a very good reason for the divinities “above” her to be so afraid of what she was capable of. But, having to live with herself for years and years, it had just faded into the background; it became harder to think of what she did as anything other than normal, even if, objectively, she knew it wasn’t. But it was her responsibility to deal with the consequences of her actions, and if this meant putting up a reasonable defence for her continued service, then she’d just have to come up with one.

Well, as soon as those in charge of hearing it were done frolicking within her cleavage. Pulling them out from it would just be downright rude.