New Offer - Part 2 (Commission for -Hyacinth-)

TAGS: Hyper/Extreme Hyper, Preg/Hyper Preg, Growth/Expansion, Milk/Lactation

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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 released 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, of course; 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 alone were probably visible from a good few miles out, and were so stuffed with dairy and 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 quite 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 fulfill 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 no 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 fulfillment; 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 then 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. That 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 many milking apparatuses surrounding her, getting ready 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 constant 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 casing 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 astronomic-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’ve 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, giving 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 light, 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 fully, 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.