A Shift In Priorities - Part 2 (Commission for bassman97)

TAGS: Lycanroc, Growth/Expansion, Pent-Up/Pent-Up Growth, Muscle Growth, Hyper, Hyper Cock/Balls

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He wanted to do it as well, certainly, but it was no longer just a matter of wants or desires; it had to happen, it was fated, for that month, the world would be made privy to what sort of monstrous capabilities Trent had locked away inside of him. And when the moon shone high enough, its bright white light falling gently on his form through the window, it started. It started like it always did, with his body temperature rising high enough that he felt downright feverish, with the pressure permeating his form spiking to absurd heights and leaving him feeling like he was ready to melt down completely. It started with him hearing his whole body rumbling as if it was beset by internal quakes, its organic structure rearranging itself to better fit the bestial side that the moon brought out. Under regular circumstances, if the word could even be used to describe him, the change would be drastic enough by itself; indeed, even if he’d spent the whole day cumming as much as he needed to like a good little Lycanroc, he still would’ve turned into something of a colossus, a hyper-muscular, super-strong, absurdly more virile version of himself that all-but guaranteed the destruction of whatever piece of clothing he happened to forget taking off before the transformation occurred. Even under the best of circumstances, he’d still grow to several times his size in raw mass and weight, along with a comparable increase in the dimensions of his cock and balls, which of course had to go with him for the ride; what would a titan like himself be without a package of similar girth after all? Unfortunately for the room around Trent, however, those weren’t normal or best circumstances; rather, he’d spent a whole day edging himself and refusing to take the final step, resulting in quite a bit of a deviation from the standard affair. He wasn’t going from a well-built, yet still somewhat person-sized Lycanroc into a far more menacing and powerful midnight form; rather, his “regular” shape had been upgraded so many times that it all-but dwarfed what his normal bestial frame would look like… and since his body figured that it was time to transform anyway, this meant it had to adapt. It was about proportionality, after all: a is to be as c is to d. Simple enough math, which was exactly why Trent didn’t so much smack the top of his head against the ceiling as he did crash through it, ending up not just with his entire head going straight up to the floor above him, but with his neck, shoulders, and part of his arms as well; it was quick enough that neither himself nor his neighbors really had time to react, after which the entire building suffered through the shockwave as part of its inner structure was vaporized as a result of the growth spurt. Just as above, so below: while Trent stood literally head and shoulders above the rest, his paws and legs plowed through his entire apartment, breaking through multiple walls before emerging into the hallway outside… and then promptly carrying on regardless, miraculously avoiding hitting anyone as they punched two enormous holes through the home opposite his own, until finally breaking free from the building entirely and very nearly slamming against the one next to it! Yet, he had little to no time to appreciate this, given that his weight caused the floor in his own apartment to collapse; moments after breaking on to the one above, he was falling down, flattening every successive storey underneath his own before finding his way to ground level, which mercifully only involved crashing through a couple of thankfully-empty apartments. Not so mercifully, this was merely his body: the muscles, the arms, the legs, the torso, all the regular bits shared by most sentient beings. There was one specific part of him that had yet to receive the blessing of his midnight form… or, to be more precise, two specific parts. It was inevitable, given that his dick and nuts always grew in proportion to him whenever he shifted from one form to the other, and more often than not leaving them significantly larger than they had been just prior to the change; much like the rest of him, even under normal circumstances this had a way of completely obliterating his surroundings if he wasn’t careful, though without any self-denial, this usually only manifested in Trent having to be careful around anything perched on top of a flat surface, as opposed to… well, literally everything. He had a couple of moments to truly appreciate just what was going to happen when he felt his insides churn and the pressure within them spike, followed by his sense of restraint being properly tested for the first time that day. Up until then, it had been (relatively) easy to keep himself in check, even if this resulted in plenty of pre leakage and his body becoming far larger than normal; but when he felt his balls suddenly inflate, his cock explode outwards with extra mass, and his entire package just barrelling through everything in its way, it was… hard, to say the absolute least, to keep himself from cumming right there and then. It was the perfect opportunity as well: what better time to blast his surroundings with more spunk than most people would ever see in a lifetime than right when the tip of his dick pierced through the roof? What better occasion to unleash the full productive potential of his balls than when they broke through the façade of his apartment block and spilled onto the road outside? It would be the best opening for it, so much so that, for a brief instant, Trent genuinely considered letting go and calling it quits… but there was that other voice, that ravenous need for growth and self-improvement, that demanded he keep going. Had he not gotten that far already? Why should he step down from his rightful position as the world’s prime breeder when he could make himself even better? He’d already broken free of a single building, who was to say he couldn’t do so again, and again, until there were no artificial structures left on the planet that could even remotely contain him… or, as it were, even a part of him. Getting up from the rubble of what used to be an apartment block, Trent was finally able to ascertain the damage done to his surroundings, and the “damage” inflicted upon his body. It was exactly as he suspected, for “feared” would be a terrible word indeed: not only had grown to be almost as tall as the whole thing had been before it came down around him, but his package had successfully become something so immense, so gargantuan, that most of his body mass was now focused entirely between his legs rather than on the rest of him. With his center of gravity thus shifted, the Lycanroc knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to walk until he got rid of all that excess cum in one glorious, apocalyptic climax; nevertheless, he insisted with himself that this was not necessary, that he didn’t need to cum, and that anything else other than restraint would be the true disaster. This flew in the face of observable reality, especially when it came to the sheer amount of destruction being wrought all around him; it wasn’t just his original apartment block anymore, but everything surrounding it, as now that his midnight form was fully unleashed, Trent’s body no longer had any of the braking mechanisms it once possessed. It almost felt ludicrous to suggest that everything thus far had been him proverbially pulling his punches, but the fact of the matter was that his “normal” side just wasn’t cut out for the insane amount of growth his bestial one was. Everything it had accomplished, everything it had become, was exclusively the result of his biology being so immensely and uncontrollably out of balance that it managed to break through whatever limitations there were… but now, absent any roadblocks, and with Trent being as horned-up as he was, there no longer stood anything in his path. With a whole day’s worth of stacked exponentials already working on him, his transformation into his midnight form brought about a chaotic alteration to his inner workings, so much so that the initial surge of size was nothing if not a teaser, an appetizer for what was to come. No sooner did he get up than his body resumed its outward march, not only gifting him with additional size and muscle mass, but pumping the vast majority of it down below where his package had already broken through the ground and forced a large chunk of it to collapse. Even without that monstrous cock and pair of nuts to swing around, Trent’s body was already impressively gargantuan all by itself; it wasn’t everyone who managed to grow tall enough that they could use apartment blocks as stools, nor become so muscular and powerful that if they tried to use them as stools the whole thing would collapse under their weight. He could snap steel between two fingers if he wanted to (not bend; that was for amateurs), and wouldn’t even break a sweat if asked to benchpress something absurd, like a whole hill, or the entirety of downtown. He was a titan, a monster of a giant, and that was just the way things were as far as he was concerned; the real star of the show, however, the one thing that truly shone brighter than everything else however, was his dick, and the two cumtanks underneath it. There was no way to put it that didn’t involve sacrificing the English language upon the altar of euphemism, because to try and attach adjectives to those things would be, by definition, to miss the point entirely. They were, to put it lightly, so immense as to almost defy comprehension, as their relative growth to the rest of Trent’s body, especially upon his switch to his midnight form, all-but ensured that they would dominate the landscape going further. If the Lycanroc himself was tall enough to sit on the various apartment buildings around him, his dick alone was about as thick as that, with its length putting its owner’s height to absolute shame. It towered above the skyline, the meaty pillar rising high into the sky as the tallest landmark around, spurting precum in such ridiculous quantities that, were it proper seed, it could’ve filled the quotas for every sperm bank in the country for years on end. Not that it being pre made it any different; Trent was in his midnight form, after all, granting him such a ludicrous boost to his virility that even a single drop of that surprisingly thick fluid was enough to all-but guarantee a pregnancy in just about anyone lucky enough to even so much as touch it. Such was his power that, through sheer presence alone, he would breed everyone around him, hence why most of the time he had to keep himself in check by locking the doors during the night and hiding the keys where he would forget about them until morning. Now, however, stuck as he was outside and without any means of protecting the world from himself, there was little that could help the myriad of tiny ones below him from being blessed by his bounty… and there was plenty of it to go around, given how gargantuan his nuts had grown to be. There was something to be said about scale, that while Trent’s dick certainly made the rest of his body look tiny by comparison, the two balls beneath it (for a given meaning of “beneath”) outright dwarfed both the cock and the remainder of the Lycanroc combined. They had to, of course, for how else would he produce the copious amounts of seed that befitted someone of his stature and power? Someone like him couldn’t just make “a lot”, he had to make more; not more than, just more in general, so much more that it bordered on the downright unreasonable, or would at least if it were not him doing so. As a result, it was wholly unsurprising to see that, instead of merely being quite large, or immense, or vast, Trent’s hyperactive cum factories were sky-blotting. This was the only acceptable way to describe them, in fact; for those lucky enough to be under the shadow they cast, it was impossible to see the stars, the moon, the inky blackness of the night sky. Only the void, the gurgling and rumbling wall of nutflesh preventing all light from passing through, growing ever more consuming with each passing moment; for Trent himself, most of the space in front of him had been replaced with a gargantuan and impassable blockade of furred white, his nuts so incomprehensibly massive that it felt more like he was attached to them rather than the other way around. He was beyond immobilized, his rump firmly planted on the ground and unable to move, his legs spread-eagled to make way for both a dick too powerfully huge to be held between them, and forcefully kept open thanks to the overabundance of nutflesh they had to deal with. It was, in many respects, downright apocalyptic in scale; the city certainly didn’t know what to do with the emergence of a colossus like Trent, nor did they have any idea of where they should go now that they had an almost-literal avalanche of cumstuffed nut to deal with. But, for the Lycanroc, none of this really mattered; hardly anything mattered, when the whole point of the experience was to simply indulge in his own madness, to succumb to his idiotic choices and let fate take the wheel, even if he knew this was a terrible idea that would end up backfiring terribly just a few hours down the line. He was, after all, still growing… and still growing exponentially. The bigger he became with each spurt, the more was added on the next one, until each step he took on his ascension to the heavens put every previous one to shame; it became impossible to contain, not when the multiplication was so absurdly stacked that he was gaining several dozen feet with every heartbeat. He could’ve stopped it at any moment he wanted as well, that was the best part; the only reason he was still growing was because he was denying himself, and the moment he simply decided not to, that would be it: on his flipping the proverbial switch, the floodgates would open, the city would drown in his cum, and everyone inside it would spend the next several months straddled atop bellies too large for them to really move, followed by a maternity spike so tremendously abnormal that the population of the country itself would feel the hit. It was entirely within Trent’s power to do so, which was precisely why he… didn’t. It was easy, or so he told himself, easy for him to take the route of gratification; he usually did it, and it required very little effort on his part other than a willingness to succumb to his base desires and let his body do what it was built to do. At no point did it need anything else, leaving him with a profound sense of dissatisfaction once it was over; sure, there was the raw physical pleasure of it, but after a while, he grew to want something more refined, something more appetizing… hence, his decision to indulge in some self-restraint and self-denial, knowing full well it would end in disaster for everyone and everything around it. Unlike every other scenario he envisioned, this one at least demanded that he keep his focus, demanded that he hold his mind on that one, singular need: the need to not cum. It was a genuine challenge, so much so that, even when he was outright buried by his own cock, which was itself being overwhelmed by two nuts that had grown to outsize the city, Trent was smiling like an idiot. It would’ve been incredibly easy for him to snap his fingers and let it all out; indeed, in many ways, the only thing needed of him was to simply do nothing at all, and let his body run its course like it normally did. By keeping himself on that path though, by forcing his physical self to not do what it was made to do, by continuously pushing himself down a road that would end only in him growing uncontrollably, he ensured that he would have to keep putting in effort. If not to lift himself up, then at least to stay on the rails, especially when the pleasure overload became such that it was genuinely nothing short of a miracle that Trent successfully kept himself from blasting a significant portion of his state with a climax that would show on imaging satellites. Because, frankly, why should he? He couldn’t even hear anything anymore; the rumbling of his cum factories was so powerful that any sounds produced by the outside world never had a chance of even getting close to him, let alone going through his ears and into his brain. He was surrounded on all sides by so much nutflesh that it became difficult for him to even imagine how big he was; how little did he know that each of his orbs had reached the size of the entire metropolis all by itself, and were only growing larger still with each passing second. And if not that, then his dick, so magnificently thick and girthy, so impossibly meaty and veiny, there for him to hold and squeeze and have his entire body glazed in pre, to feel how it stretched and pushed and pulled and forced its way in every direction, until the ground itself rumbled and quaked under the unrelenting advance of a body that had no right to exist. Yet he insisted on his path, insisted on denying himself; it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and already he had become something so gigantic and unwieldy that he ranked above most natural disasters. Even if he stopped immediately, even if he put an end to that madness by letting himself cum, what would happen then? His neighboring states flooded, perhaps, the deluge of spunk enough to seriously affect population balance, to say nothing of what would happen to the planet itself, both environmentally and geologically. On the other hand, if he kept going, he was sure to make things even worse, for he would only grow faster and more uncontrollably; not that he could bring himself to care, but still.

It was a conundrum, it really was… to most other people. To Trent, the path forward was clear: it was called No-Nut November for a reason, and it was only barely the second! How could he claim the title of champion if he gave up so quickly? How could he claim to have even approached the challenge, let alone win it, when he hadn’t even made it past the first day? No, he had to keep going.

For all thirty days.