Excessive Repairs - Part 3 (Patreon Commission for orze)

TAGS: Growth/Expansion, M/F, Nanite Growth, Muscle Growth, Hyper, Macro/Mega Macro

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There was only so much his body could take before it went exponential, and with the planet’s curve becoming increasingly evident, he had long-since gone past the point where he could even think to put a brake on the whole thing. For Myuki, it had ceased being a possibility far before that, and she was but a fraction of Slay’s full size; as far as the wolf was concerned, he had been teetering on the edge of complete upwards collapse, and only very recently tipped over properly… as opposed to the truth of the matter, which was that he’d gone flying past his last barrier of self-restraint long before he’d broken the first mile barrier; considering he stood at several of those, that was saying something, though what exactly he had no idea. He just knew he was unbelievably horny, he needed to get off, and no matter how many times he came enough to put every breeder on the planet to shame, he was always constantly full; pent-up, blue-balled, stuffed, name a synonym and Slay probably felt it, had probably thought of it himself, overriding every instinct he had with the singular need to cum, be it into Myuki, onto the planet around him, or just wherever he might be pointed. He didn’t care anymore, nor could he care, as his body was no longer under his direct control; rather, the nanites flowing through his veins and arteries had taken him over completely, redirecting his vital processes and optimizing him to the point where he could quite literally be described as the perfect breeding machine. He existed for no other reason than to pump out his seed, and as a result he needed more of it… significantly more. Enough that his nuts, even titanic as they were, were clearly not enough for the sort of flooding that was required of him, and the nanites inside of him knew that better than anyone. It was child’s play, at that point, to turn the wolf’s insane productivity into yet more mass with which to further upgrade the two seed factories he had growing behind him; the nanites had it down to a literal science, and with very effort they resumed they made Slay bloat even further, with his balls far outpacing the rest of his body. This was significant: excluding those two gargantuan spheres, the lupine colossus was in the two-digit mile count and rising higher still, breaching through multiple cloud layers both vertically and horizontally by that point; it wasn’t just his height that had become something impossibly exaggerated, but his width as well, resulting from his bulk stacking onto itself in an almost obscene manner. It wasn’t just about improving himself any longer; hell, it was doubtful that it had ever been about that, but if ever there was a pretense, it was well and truly gone. Now, all that mattered was finding an excuse to make him denser and more muscular, and the simple matter of his existence was enough to make that happen, as just standing around constituted enough of a strain on Slay’s body that he grew more powerful as a result; deliberately flexing one of his arms caused so much of a reaction that he inevitably lost control of the arm chosen, having it plummeting to the ground below to cause a titanic quake before the rest of his body adapted to all the extra mass the gesture had willed into being. Every heartbeat seemed to leave him bigger, his entire body pulsating as even the simple act of pumping blood through his veins seemed to be enough to drag more size out of Slay and his nanites. The process was self-sustaining, the causes exacerbated, and he couldn’t even move without triggering so much growth that, after a certain point… he just couldn’t move at all to begin with. It stopped being something he shouldn’t do and became something he couldn’t, no matter how much he tried; paradoxically, he had become too strong to move his body, something that did not escape Slay even in his hyper-aroused state. He wasn’t in the best of places to appreciate the cosmic irony of it, but he could absolutely tell that he was no longer mobile, and not just because of the two nuts he had billowing out behind him; those were definitely heavy enough to keep him pinned, but it had gone beyond that: he was actually incapable of moving. It took him a bit to understand just why that was, mostly because he was still growing in every direction and the combined pleasure of a cock the size of a whole state being stuck inside a just-slightly-smaller vixen and a dual set of cumtanks so stuffed they might as well be a moment from bursting was… distracting, to say least. It was hard to even think, much less even focus on anything long enough to understand what was happening; should anyone look in from outside, however, it’d be easy to see that the wolf’s body had reached a critical state where its own bulk had made it impossible for it to move. Slay was no longer merely muscular as much as he was made mostly out of muscle mass stacked on top of itself to such an extreme degree that it was genuinely hard to tell where any one muscle group ended and another began; the whole thing melded onto itself as biceps bulged, abs swelled, lats exploded with size and who knew what else, turning the wolf into something more resembling a mountain of mass than anything else. And with each second that passed, the mountain only grew wider and taller: the nanites coursing through Slay’s bloodstream had made sure that any effort, no matter how small or insignificant, made him more powerful, and the easiest way to accomplish this was to add a few more dozen feet to whatever random spot on his body had been most stressed in the past ten seconds or so… only for the rest of him to have to follow through, creating a self-reinforcing cycle that very rapidly grew out of control. It had begun right when the nanites were first injected, but it took until Slay reached sizes big enough to be seen from orbit for the exponentials to stack hard enough to leave him incapable of moving, buried underneath an amount of bulk that only ever grew more insurmountably massive. Every second was a ton, then two, then four, until all that Slay could hear was the rumbling of his body overtaking the planet, the creaking of his skin and flesh bulging out and trying to keep up with the demand placed on them by the uncontrolled nanites. Yet, despite the fact that the pressure felt was immense to the point of it being torturous, despite it raising his body temperature high enough that it was comparable to running a high fever, despite him feeling like he was half a second away from popping like a meaty balloon at any given time… it wasn’t bad. Far from it, in fact, as the “worse” it got, the more pleasure Slay seemed to derive from it, enough to make him question whether or not his masochistic trends were more than just the occasional passing mood. He truly and earnestly believed he had passed some kind of cap, that he was well on his way to having his body rupture and spill, for his insides to turn into outsides, only for it to… never come to pass. No matter how close to this supposed edge he got, no matter how much he flirted with disaster, he never seemed to quite pass that threshold into outright collapse, keeping himself steadfastly in one piece despite his body being thoroughly impossible from any objective point of view. He shouldn’t exist; mortals weren’t supposed to be that massive, that virile, that muscular, that anything, and yet there he was, perfectly happy with continuing to exist despite all evidence saying that he shouldn’t be there, that he shouldn’t be capable of casting a shadow over his home country, that his body shouldn’t be able to develop enough muscle mass to bury itself underneath itself. Yet he did it anyway, because that was just what he did now, it was what he was; even with his head surrounded on all sides by what had to be a mile-deep crevice of his own neck and shoulders, the only thing Slay could bring himself to do was break into an open smile, drooling all over himself as the sensations overtook him, too powerful for him to resist any longer. It was a testament to how absurd it was that Myuki being stretched around his cock barely registered with him anymore; it was powerful, yes, and still something that drove him wild whenever he managed to focus on it, but with the rest of him being what it was, it was quite literally impossible for him to think on any one source of pleasure for longer than just a couple of seconds before his brain yanked his attention onto something else. He was stuck in a constant ping-pong between different hotspots, each of which was begging to be given top priority, and the end result was he just ended up making himself bigger; the higher the pleasure, the better the pleasure feedback, and the bigger the became, the more nanites he had to work with. If it had taken him several minutes to go from merely hunky to house-sized, now all it took was seconds to add a whole mile or two in every direction, mere seconds for his balls, by that point large enough to start causing tectonic quakes across the planet, to bloat so much they created sonic shockwaves through sheer air displacement alone. He didn’t even know how big he was, nor even if he was still on the planet at all; his mass was such, his density so ridiculous, that he no longer felt the gravitational pull of the Earth, instead being his own well, pulling other cosmic objects towards him. It wouldn’t surprise him if he wasn’t even standing on anything, and the solid ground he felt beneath his feet was actually his legs’ muscle mass growing over his claws and keeping them well and truly trapped underneath more bulk than should be physically possible. Meanwhile, Myuki was still there, still speared by miles and miles of dick, still being swollen into a balloon of such unbelievable slorshiness that its constant cacophony could be heard above the constant and interminable creaking emanating from Slay’s much larger body. A competition, but not one to last for too long; with the process having become exponential in nature, and with said exponentials stacking on one another again and again, the wolf had maybe a few seconds in between realizing he couldn’t move and doing the next best thing: hopping. It was the last motion he was still capable of, and even then he didn’t know if it would even remotely work. He still tried though; he had to, lest he be planetbound for the rest of his existence, and with a body like his, being forced to remain on a single planet was tantamount to heresy. Not that he was a god or anything, of course, but purely because it stood in the way of his perpetual self-indulgence, and that was not acceptable. He was getting off, that much was non-negotiable, and any attempts at stopping him were little more than sacrilege upon his divinely-mandated growth spurt; him and Myuki were destined to become that large, he just knew it, and as such it was his right to demand as much damned room as he damned well needed… and if this meant claiming space for himself, then that was just the next logical step in a progression that had already lost any and all meaning. He could feel himself growing, and that was all that mattered: he could feel every inch, despite there being so many of them that he could barely even begin to count them all; he could feel every surge, every heartbeat, every instant where his form was stretched and moulded, refined by the nanites turning his body into some kind of temple to virility itself. Or perhaps turning him into the very avatar of it, given how gigantic his balls had become; honestly, he looked away for five minutes and suddenly those things were…well, it was hard to describe just how big they were without resorting to words that didn’t exist; that, plus the fact that he couldn’t exactly see them, what with the copious amounts of himself in the way, but he could definitely feel them. And there was a lot there for him to feel; indeed, just trying to graze the subsection of his mind in charge of keeping his nuts functioning was enough to make him black out for several seconds, and it took considerable practice before he could even begin to try comprehending how massive he was… and quite literally so, at that. It wasn’t just that he was big (which he definitely was), but that his nuts were also the main manufacturing center for the uncountable nanite factories working tirelessly to turn every spare ounce of his seed into more mass for the rest of him; not just that, but further iterating upon the already-overclocked design for his cum factories, allowing to slam right into a self-perpetuating and ever-escalating process that wouldn’t end until his nuts were big enough to swallow the whole planet up. Not that they weren’t close; Slay himself might not be able to see it, but his pair had already swallowed up a good half of Earth without him even noticing, and showed no signs of stopping whatsoever! If only he could hear or see outside of his prison of neckbulk, then maybe the wolf would’ve been able to see himself rolling over the landscape, the two gargantuan orbs mostly made out of solid, dense flesh with the occasional river of cum blasting across it through nanite-reinforced canals; he would’ve seen his sack, looming over the planet, not just casting a shadow over much of it, but outright flattening a good chunk as well in its inexorable advance outwards and upwards. Hell, if he bothered to try and sense it, he would quickly figure out that most of his gravitational imbalance was coming from behind him, owing to the frankly ludicrous amounts of mass he was carrying on those nuts of his, mass that was only ever replicated, made denser, and turned in itself until it began encroaching upon the critical point for complete inward collapse. Really, it was only the nanites themselves actively counteracting themselves that kept those cumtanks from turning into black holes, or at least extremely dense neutron stars; even then, it was enough to destabilize the Earth’s crust to the point where it already began cracking, the planet being torn apart thanks to the tidal forces involved in just… everything about Slay, really. Not that he himself cared; it was hard to conjure up the amount of brainpower needed to truly take anything into consideration when so much of it was being spent on trying to process the ungodly amount of sensory overload he was saddled with. Everything, from the smallest of wind currents to the vacuum of space, conspired to drive him mad with a combination of ecstatic bliss and some odd, unfathomable sort of agonized pleasure. It was hard to explain; maybe this was what gods felt when they ascended, or perhaps his unfortunate brain just wasn’t capable of understanding what it was being made to go through. After all, most of the nanites were focused entirely on improving the density and productivity of his nuts, not necessarily his neuron connections, leaving his main processing center dreadfully unprepared for the sort of horrific abuse it was being put through. Still, he couldn’t complain… and quite literally at that, given that he could barely even muster up the willpower to whimper, much less produce words; if anyone could hear him over the rumbling of his body, they’d only get a low, gravelly rumble, indistinguishable from a half-formed growl, and nothing more than air escaping from the wolf’s lungs through gritted teeth. It was too much for him to take, and as a result he ended up just letting his body take the wheel and decide where things went from there; impossible to control, impossible to contain, and just as Myuki very quickly found out, impossible to empty out as well. Much as she was ready to “take it all”, to do this would be physically impossible, because there was no “all”; there was no point at which Slay would stop producing, nor was there any upper cap to the amount of cum those planet-crushing balls of his could dispense before they had to stop and refill. In between his sheer size and the nanites swirling around within him, it’d be shocking if he was even capable of reaching an “end” state, as opposed to simply growing eternally until there was nothing in existence that wasn’t at least part of him. In due time, however; for now, Slay was more than happy with what he had, mostly because he didn’t really have any means of understanding what this was, nor did he quite grasp the degree to which his body had been modified and improved. He knew he was large, but not that he had outgrown the planet; he knew his nuts had bloated, but not so much that they made the rest of his body look tiny by comparison. And he knew Myuki was still there wrapped around his dick, but not that she’d been bloated into becoming a cum blimp whose gut far surpassed the planet in size just from how stuffed it was before Slay himself had reached that point. Yet now that he was there, now that he had become big enough that his homeworld was nothing if not a companion in a gravitational dance, there wasn’t much that could stop him, not without him putting a deliberate stop to the proceedings; much as Slay didn’t recall, he had been told of a way to stop the nanites via the use of a special command, a way to get them to become inert until they were ordered to come back on. He didn’t remember what it was, and even if he did, he wouldn’t use it; to think that he would ever want to stop was insanity, not when he had everything he could ever want right there at his beck and call! He might not quite grasp just how immense he had become, but the wolf knew two things: Myuki was there with him, and the two of them didn’t have to stop. Just as long as these two facts remained unquestioned, then he was perfectly with the way things were going, end of story. No ifs, no buts, no questions or concerns about their future, no worries about stupid shit like rent or jobs or their economic stability in the future, just the two of them, together, alone, expressing their utmost adoration for one another in the one way they knew best. Granted, most of the planet was privy to it, or at least the portions that survived, but that hardly mattered; let the population of the world know just how much the two of them loved each other, for it was not a secret to be kept. Rather, a truth to be spread as far and wide as possible, that all might see their devotion to one another, their adoration, how far they would go to make their better half happy and content. That this mostly took the form of rampant rutting wasn’t really important, only that it take some form to begin with; and, just as long as it didn’t stop, it could only get better: the bigger they became, the more of them there was to love, and the better the two could express their love through their animalistic fucking. For Slay in particular however, this didn’t exactly mean anything; he was too big to move, and this meant he couldn’t really thrust into Myuki as much as he could’ve before, leaving his natural bodily motions to do most of the work for him. Every heartbeat sent shockwaves coursing through his body, pumping blood in such large quantities that his entire form seemed to pulsate because of it; every second made him ripple and bulge out, his muscles tensing up and growing to the point where they had no recourse but to distort and bury him further, as the wolf simply lacked any room in which to stack even more bulk. And deep down below it all, at the bottom of the canyon created by his neck, was his face, embedded into a wall of muscle mass bigger than an entire country and only growing larger still with each passing moment: his eyes rolled upwards, his tongue lolling out, his nostrils flaring at the onslaught of musk and pheromones that came from his body’s hormonal system being hijacked and repurposed by the nanites in his bloodstream for even further improvement. He was no longer in control; hell, he couldn’t decide when to pump cum into Myuki on account of his motor control having been taken away from him. But he could still want more, and it was this desire that further enticed the nanoscopic robots inside of him to go even beyond what should technically be possible, even with ludicrous amount of physics-breaking that came with being able to manipulate matter on such a fine level. They were tuned to his brain, and with this came a deep, almost supernatural understanding of everything that went through the wolf’s head: every stray thought, every errant desire, every single occasion where his thought patterns coalesced for long enough that he actually thought of something as opposed to merely acting off of instinct, all of them were processed through the nanites’ neural network, analyzed for their potential towards self-improvement, then put into practice if approved. With his mind thus turned into an organic idea farm, it was stupendously easy for the artificial lifeforms within Slay to take over the show completely, and to an extent, this was precisely what they were supposed to do. They had originally been injected into him in order to “improve” him, a directive that, for all intents and purposes, the nanites were still following; at no point had they done anything other than make him better, so much so that Slay was most likely biologically immortal and entirely indestructible at the sizes he’d reached. The issue, if it could even be called that, is that the nanites had never been given instructions on when to stop; had the team behind them remembered to input a simple condition that imposed a strict limit on how far the machines were allowed to go, they would’ve remind inert after attaining this specific level of perfection. Alas, no such hard cap existed, ensuring the creation and perpetuation of a vicious cycle: Slay’s body was upgraded in a variety of ways, which then became his new baseline, meaning that he needed to be improved further. Rinse and repeat until he was bigger than a house, then bigger than a city, and now, after such a deliciously short time, bigger than his entire planet, and that was without taking his nuts into consideration. And still, he wasn’t finished, since, after all, he was that big, and being that big meant that he could absolutely be bigger, creating a new goal for the nanites to strive towards; really, they didn’t even need to take what the wolf wanted into consideration, as they could simply keep going in the direction they had been and it would be enough. But by harvesting the thoughts and desires of their master, by listening to what Slay most wanted and making it a reality, the machines therefore obeyed their prime directive and ensured there would be further tasks for them at the same time, an efficient solution to an otherwise vague and difficult-to-solve problem. After all, what did “improve” mean? It might very well have a radically different definition depending on whoever one asked, and the nanites themselves weren’t nearly smart enough to know what that might be for Slay… well, not initially at least. Now that there were a few dozen quadrillion of them, it was simple enough to connect all of them in a complex network of microprocessors, each one adding to a total that far surpassed the capacity of a single mortal mind, and all of it directed towards one, singular goal: making Slay better. Making him bigger, making him productive, making him more muscular, until anyone looking in from a distance would see not a planet, but the wolf, his colossal, bulky frame expanding with every passing second, bulging out and popping bigger as each heart beat made his already titanic levels of mass become even greater! Spacetime itself was distorted in his presence, the density of his form such that even the nanites couldn’t hold it at bay anymore; time would wind down and up, backwards and forwards as it tried to comprehend just what in blazes was happening to it, all while the wolf’s homeworld was ripped asunder by the gravitational pull of one of its own former children. Myuki, by then a blank as her insides were blasted with enough cum to breed the entire universe several times over, was kept conscious only through the action of her own nanites, who saw fit to make sure the vixen didn’t blank out for fear that she might miss out on even a fraction of the pleasure she was owed. And together, they grew yet more, Slay in particular undergoing transformations of such magnitude that it was more adequate to call them jumps rather than just a growth process; the exponentials had stacked high up enough that any change in size left him so much larger than had been before it that it seemed more like the wolf’s body was being puffed up by some kind of unseen pump, rhythmically inserting countless tons of mass into him at increasingly faster rates, all while his nuts continued to put the rest of him to shame as they blotted out the sun. They were too big, in fact; even as Slay himself still struggled to occupy most of the space between the orbits of Venus and Mars, having already broken the Moon apart and taking the Earth’s place around the Sun, the star itself was being torn into ribbons by the two gargantuan spunk factories floating behind the wolf. They were about as big as the stellar fusion engine… for about a second or two before they outgrew it, and quite effortlessly so at that: one moment each orb was comparable to the gigantic plasma sphere, and in the next they were nudging it away from where it was, disrupting its orbital path around the center of the galaxy. It wouldn’t take much more than that before the Sun itself was siphoned away, as the nanites within Slay had learned a valuable lesson: they might’ve wasted the Earth and its constituent materials entirely, but they weren’t about to do that with a whole stellar mass. The star was right there, and with nothing to stop them, the machines made him big enough to start bumping against the star, his mass such that it was absorbing all of its radiant heat and turning it into further usable energy, all of it pumped back into Slay. Soon, they were outright ripping the Sun apart, draining its plasma away, layer by layer, until it began to visibly shrink; it would take a while before they were done, and by then the wolf would be large enough to not make a difference, but if he was that big already, then they might as well go the full mile and do something about those sources of mass that were lying around without anyone using them. So, while the giant lupine breeding machine was busy losing his mind even more than he already had, the countless nanomachines inside and outside of him, the latter having created a halo of sorts around his body, were busy pushing a star’s worth of additional matter into him, all of it repurposed into more bulk, more muscle, more nutflesh for the cum factories. No longer was he thinking about anything, freed at last from the burden of having to produce his own coherent thoughts; he was a creature of instinct now, one that existed purely to live through whatever random whim passed through his head, more so the product of his physicality than anything remotely intellectual. He was a breeder, a giant, a pile of muscles stacked atop further muscles, infinitely growing, neverending, forever to be made better and more perfect as time went on. And so was Myuki, his lovely Myuki, the most perfect vixen to ever exist, that ever could have existed; only she could have ever withstood the onslaught that he provided, only she could have taken his loads and not just survived, but thrived off of them. Only she could have been there along with him, and only she would ever be there at all, now that he was too big to do much of anything by himself. He was a machine; a well-oiled one, a finely-tuned one, but a machine regardless, one built out of a perpetual cycle that fed on itself until it became unsustainably all-consuming.

But he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Buried by bulk and growing ever-larger, how could he care? His time was better served living in this perpetual state of blissful apathy, where he descended into an ocean of raw pleasure and just… floated there. Enjoying himself.

Until it finally broke.

He’d already been unloading in Myuki for long enough that it probably broke every record stacked on top of itself and multiplied by the sum total, but it rapidly became clear that what he’d been experiencing was less him climaxing and more of a warm-up for what he was truly capable of. Sure, it was powerful, far more so than what he ever thought possible, but when he felt the underside of his cock bulging out, the vein puffing up as the full release came crashing through, he knew it was over.

Well, metaphorically at least. Fact of the matter was, he was only getting started. As soon as the dam broke and the waters came rushing in, all Slay could do was let it happen; couldn’t clench, couldn’t pull back (even if he wanted to, which he most certainly did not), and there wasn’t anything he could do about Myuki, who suddenly, and very violently, nearly tripled in size just from how much her lover’s cock bulged out with raw size. And when the cum flood came, when the wolf actually orgasmed and his nuts began to drain properly… well, even then he wouldn’t get any rest.

Cumming was supposed to release the pressure. He was supposed to shrink as the contents of his nuts were pumped out of him and into whoever was lucky enough to be the recipient. But he was no longer himself, and he was no longer in control: the nanites were. And as their productivity rose, so too did their ability to withstand immense pressure, hence why, no matter how hard he came, Slay found that he wasn’t actually emptying out. Granted, it took him a while to realize that was the case, given how he spent a good hour or so wracked by the force of the climax, but as soon as he came back to, he found that his balls were, if anything, bigger than before! Not just that, but his cock too had fattened up considerably, with the bottom side of it flaring out even further as the bottom part of it swelled far in excess to the rest of it in a vain attempt at catering to the immense, almost immeasurable quantities of cum that he was producing on a second-to-second basis.

And he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop, and this reality would only become more apparent the longer the orgasm went on and the stronger it became: that no matter how hard he came, he would only keep going harder still.

Forever.