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

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

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It was part of his being, part of his divine makeup, that he needed to experience sexual release on the regular, lest he end up feeling that most dreaded of sensations: being pent up. Thankfully, Lee was more than happy to take care of that, hence why the Alakazam had turned out to be as beefy as they were; not that they were scrawny when the two of them first met, but that was a lot of ass that the hunk had to lift and knead and massage and occasionally pound, forcing his body to adapt to better serve the insatiable demigod he had chosen for a husband. It didn’t help that Harris himself insisted on making his ass large on a regular basis as well, only upping the challenge the longer the two of them were together; that said, if ever there had been a chance for Lee to hold up a single finger and ask for the Espeon to control themselves, there absolutely wasn’t one now, now that the Alakazam was at all interested in making up such an opportunity. He might roll his eyes and dramatically proclaim his life to be filled with the kind of drama one would expect from a soap opera, but he still loved every moment of it, and made damned sure that Harris was aware of this. Unfortunately for the normally quite contained Lee, the only way he had to get that information across was to open his mouth and let fate take the wheel, usually resulting in quite a few undignified moans escaping into the environment, when the hunky giant would’ve very much preferred if they remain bottled up where no one could hear them. Especially when their tone insisted on pitch-shifting whenever his body bulked up; it was an endless source of consternation and embarrassment for Lee, doubly so since Harris absolutely loved poking fun at him for it, that whenever his body gained additional mass, his voice similarly dropped in register to match it. While at first it was imperceptible enough that the Alakazam figured it was just a sore throat, as the two of them further refined one another into shapes that Lee had once thought the purview of the gods alone, the more he came to realize he wasn’t just imagining things: his voice was legitimately getting deeper the further along their relationship went, and as their time together grew more intense, so too did the changes become more pronounced, occurring in a far shorter timespan. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for Lee to go into their bedroom with his speaking voice at a certain frequency, only to lose a few Hertz when leaving after the two were done, with the difference being significant enough that anyone could tell… Harris especially. That this then further enticed the Espeon to further make their ass burgeon outwards with additional mass did not help, nor did the fact that the demigod felt it was somehow his duty to make sure their partner was as buried underneath soft plush as they could possibly make them. Granted, most of it was entirely subconscious in nature, given that the majority of Harris’ processing power was dedicated wholly to that colossal pillar of cockmeat he was hugging; it was almost impressive how, despite everything, Lee’s best feature was still a dick that managed to make his own look positively average by comparison. Not that he couldn’t make it not so, but there was something sublime about seeing a mortal who could outsize him unless he went out of his way to force his own package to grow, something he had no intention of doing; he had his ass to worry about, as Harris recalled with a smile, an ass that could be put to use not only rubbing the entirety of Lee down, but feeling as their bed was slowly crushed underneath its mounting weight. All while delighting the tip of his tongue on the pre-covered, slick, leathery surface of the Alakazam’s shaft, the Espeon’s eyes practically rolling upwards as he took in the scent, the touch, the sound of it as well; it almost felt like his partner wasn’t just reaching their turgid state, but forcefully stretching their rod to an ever larger size than before… which, given how much more muscular they were getting underneath that gargantuan rump they were buried beneath, might just be the case as far as Harris knew. In between the gurgling of nuts and the creaking of taut skin, that dick he was hugging sure did look far bigger than before, which of course only led to him forcing his own to grow in response, locking the two lovers into yet another cycle of expansive self-indulgence that wouldn’t end until their room had to be torn down and remade. Again. Preferably after the happy couple was brought back down to size once more after losing control of their libidos for what felt like the dozenth time. All of this while Lee was still doing his best to keep his moans under control, failing miserably at it whenever he had to open his mouth to breathe; using his nose just wasn’t a possibility, not when he had a bed-sized rump pushing down on him from seemingly every direction, nevermind how it should only be on top of him. Harris always did that, and the Alakazam never knew whether to be infuriated at it or beg for the man to go harder, because the idea of being swallowed up by soft Espeon butt from all sides was one of those unfortunate notions which took up so much space within his processing centers that Lee never quite knew what to make of it. As he stood, however, he could do little but keep pushing: keep using his hands to get whole armfuls of ass off of him, granting himself just barely enough room to breathing, keep using his entire body to grind against a rump that was always effortlessly larger than him, keep subconsciously bucking his hips against another shaft that was right there for the frotting. It was heaven to him, and quite literally so given Harris’ divine heritage; this was the sort of treatment mortals only received when they went upstairs and got to ask for their personal paradises, and yet he had it right there at his beck and call, before anything drastic had to happen. He was incredibly lucky, more so than he could ever put into words; he feared that if he tried, Harris might just bap him across the back of the head for trying to act “mushy” when he should’ve been putting more energy behind each and every thrust, even if he wasn’t in full control of his motions. They were… unique like that; Lee never expected to meet someone whose mere form exuded such raw sexuality that it practically oozed onto the environment around them, but Harris was definitely real, and they definitely enjoyed turning their surroundings into whatever version of themselves were needed to increase pleasure for anyone in the vicinity. It was an unending task, though hardly a selfless one, giving the Espeon something to do even when Lee wasn’t available; hence why, whenever the two of them got together like that, it hardly took more than a minute or so before everything spiralled out of control and the Alakazam had to start pretending like he knew where the brake pedals were. Meanwhile, Harris’ ass grew larger, Lee’s cock grew thicker, the air grew warmer, and the rumbling of hyperactive cum production grew louder; soon enough, the first spurts would splatter against the ceiling, drooping down in long, thick stalactites that Harris had a hell of a time making good use of. No sense letting it go to waste, especially when Lee’s seed was as deliciously nutritious as it was; plus, he could always use an additional infusion, really get his ass to bwoompf out like it should, even when he was already pumping ludicrous amounts of mass into it.

In the meantime, Mina, being Mina, had just finished gathering the crops for one of the larger agricultural mega-complexes located in a set of arcologies she herself had built a few hours prior; experimental time distortions as applied to farming was certainly something novel, but much to everyone’s surprise, it turned out decently. By “decently”, of course, one had to understand that Mina had very high standards for herself, and only rarely actually met them; it was a case of even a misfire being more than enough to satisfy the needs of everyone else around her, hence why she often didn’t mind, but it did make those occasions where she managed to surprise herself with how well an idea turned out to be all the more fantastic. In this case, what had initially been created as a means of exploiting divine timewarp fuckery to grow more food ended up seriously outproducing just about any more “traditional” mega-farm in a matter of hours. And not just on a per-crop or per-specimen basis either; not only did each seed blossom into a sturdier, more productive fully grown plant compared to more archaic methods, but the sheer density of the arcology farms, linked with the methods used to speed growth up, meant that a single structure produced more food in that one cycle than most of the region’s farms and orchards could produce, combined, in an entire year. Naturally, Mina spent most of her time claiming it was “nothing special” and that anyone else could’ve done it given time; plus, she had those sailors to return to their homes, so she couldn’t just hang around and have ribbons thrown on her… especially since they would just turn out to be too tight on her after just a few moments anyway. She was slightly worried about that last bit, since her body wasn’t technically supposed to grow that much; granted, the prohibition was against Fire Stones, not necessarily just getting bigger in general, but the Growlithe couldn’t shake the feeling that the divine pantheon wasn’t going to be picky about how she was trespassing on what they considered to be their domain. Yes, she was getting bigger because she helped deal with a problem that they themselves had asked her to resolve, but if they were petty enough to impose restrictions that weren’t at all necessary, they might just be petty enough to complain about the way she went about fixing the rift. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t, and if it wasn’t for how good it felt, the whole thing might’ve been slightly bearable; alas, Mina had to deal with that unfortunate voice in her head letting her know that growing to be upwards of seventy feet in height was pretty darned decent, as well as the other voice loudly asking whether or not they should be making use of their enormous pawbs to go offer foot rubs to a couple of towns while she was at it. Combine it with the infernally loud slorshing emanating from a ground-grazing bust, and the entire experience became… somewhat difficult to handle, to put it lightly. Mina liked to think she had a good amount of self-control, but even her endless wellspring of discipline had some measure of a limit to how much she could draw from it, and having to carry around two dairy factories that could feed the world wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she gulped up a planet’s worth of anomalous magma. A curious sequence of words; Mina chuckled, realizing at that moment just how deeply she’d thrown herself down the rabbit hole by taking that job. It started off so innocently, and yet there she was, pushing on eighty feet with a body so curvaceous that it bordered on the scandalous, trying her best not to get in anyone’s way while unable to prevent at least some collateral damage purely by way of her passing through, thus requiring her to stop and fix whatever she broke in a process that made it exceedingly difficult to get anywhere on time… by Mina’s own standards, at least. As far as the sailors waiting at the docks were concerned, she arrived a good hour or so ahead of schedule, which for the Growlithe might as well have been her running late an entire day; she spent an inordinate amount of time profusely apologizing for having taken so long, much to the surprise and utter confusion of those around her, and if it wasn’t for the fact that there was still a semi-rational voice in her head telling her to stop being so silly, she probably would’ve offered to finish their fishing quotas for the year by finagling up some kind of localized temporal distortion mixed with an artificial aquarium mega-complex, not unlike what she’d done for the arcology farms. Alas, as soon as she began going off on a long tangent regarding cosmic strings and the difficulties of plucking them at the right frequency, that’s when she lost her audience; blushing after realizing this, Mina resolved to just put her entrapped sailors down, having to physically push a few of them onto the ground when they refused to leave the warm confines of her tail’s fluff. Always the worst part of it all, really; she hated having to deny someone their perfect, eternal paradise, but unfortunately that’s just how things went. If she let just anybody climb aboard her to find perennial peace, then she would run out of floof room in but a single hour, and then what would happen to all those other little ones who also wanted to experience heaven? It was a cruel twist of fate that, in order for Mina to truly be fair, she needed to put her foot down and pick between the latter option in the eternal “everyone or no one” debate; still, she knew some day she’d be big enough to make that question a moot point, and it was really just a matter of time before that happened. Not that the gods liked to think about it too much, but who was going to stop it? Certainly not her, the creature whose form was so perfect that by drinking magma she’d reached a good ninety feet in height; it was silly, to Mina at least, for her to want to hold back on what was clearly a natural process, rather than embracing it to bring about a new age of prosperity for everyone around her. Especially when the gods seemed to want that for their worshippers as well; honestly, their animosity for her never ceased to confuse the Growlithe, for whom the notion that she was doing something “wrong” was downright bizarre. Part of her recognized that it was, at least partially, a pissing contest between herself and the pantheon; this didn’t make it any less strange, because at no point did she engage in any kind of peacocking, nor did she remember telling anyone that she had any intention of overthrowing what was perceived as the “natural order”. As far as Mina was concerned, she just was, much like the gods themselves, and if reality in general wanted her to be big, powerful and extremely competent at anything she set her mind to, it wasn’t as if she was trying to do so on purpose? It felt odd that an entire group of deities would think of her as some kind of usurper, someone whose purpose in life was to take from them what was “rightfully” theirs; were she of a more revolutionary bent, Mina was certain she’d have words to say about that, but the world was already screwed up enough as it was, and certainly didn’t need a civil war between the gods and the people who they were supposed to protect. Thus, her insistence on being as helpful as possible: if she was destined for greatness or not, it hardly mattered; only the here and now, the present moment, had any true importance. What good were promises of power and dreams of divinity if the common folk suffered underneath the pressure of an uncaring universe? What sort of goddess could she ever claim to be if she ignored the plight of those around her when it was entirely within her power to do something about it? It just wouldn’t do, not while she had the ability to fix any problem that dared present itself, not while she drew breath; it was her mission, her raison d’être really, and she wouldn’t let go of it no matter how often the gods up in the clouds decided she needed to take it down several notches. Granted, the milking pumps were still going to need to be fixed up again now that her breasts were full enough to graze along the ground and block most of her sight; they were still empty, courtesy of her utmost control over her productivity, which only left the Growlithe even more concerned about what would happen when she let her puppies off the leash. If she was already milky enough to make cream for the whole region, she didn’t dare even think to imagine what it would be like when those things were made to lactate, even at a minimal rate as usual. Would she need to become a net exporter of dairy? Would the region become known for its milk-based cuisine after everyone had to further adapt to not just a liquid diet, but one that required constant burn-off to keep from flooding the whole planet twice over? Indeed, as she considered this, Mina began to slowly come to realize that maybe the gods weren’t all that wrong about fearing her to some extent; her body was incredibly reactive and growth-happy, especially when she went out of her way to indulge that side of it, and given the sort of changes that were brought about by a single rift, then whatever would happen when she got around to the next one could only be properly described with theoretical mathematics that she herself would most likely have to come up with. Well, herself or Iris; all things considered, perhaps the person in charge of the Kecleon Exchange was more suited for numbers than someone like herself, whose main motivation lay far away from ledgers and multiplication tables. Why, the last time she tried to divide anything she ended up creating a black hole after accidentally splitting spacetime into infinitesimally small sections which then promptly collapsed upon themselves; thankfully, this was reworked into the agricultural time distortion complex, but it could’ve gone wrong had she not been there to address it! Perhaps, Mina thought to herself as she stopped by a refinery to readjust the carbon filters to 120% efficiency, she really should take it easy; maybe, if she stepped back a bit and just let things settle, then maybe the gods wouldn’t be so inclined to think of her as a threat. Rather, if she played the part of the “obedient mortal” for a while, then the pantheon would be made aware that she did have some sense of self-restraint, nevermind how her pawbs alone were the size of a small village already and her ninety-foot frame was so thick and lusciously curvaceous that several people fainted any time she walked just about anywhere. It certainly didn’t help that her near-supernatural ability to fit through any space wasn’t affected in the slightest, resulting in the Growlithe squeezing into multiple places she had no right being in, only to then fill them up with her soft, squishy body, a perfect resting place for anyone who dared to grab onto her. Always a bummer, that one; having to pluck people from her tits was not something Mina enjoyed doing.

In sharp contrast, physical proximity was the bread and butter of two very close lovers who were rapidly coming to appreciate just how little space they had in their bedroom. This was after several remodelings, in fact; much as Harris liked to believe that he knew what he was doing, he always found that the dimensional distortions he applied to that room were constantly on the low end of what was actually needed. He got a lot of mileage out of Lee assuming he was doing it on purpose, and indeed the Espeon liked to pretend that he was, but the truth of the matter was quite simpler: he just didn’t know his own strength. Seeing as the demigod refused to pull his punches whenever doing so would lead to a decrease in pleasure experienced, it wasn’t altogether surprising that he would end up breaking through whatever size and production record he’d set the last time he and the Alakazam decided to get freaky together. It was, ultimately, a cumulative process: he’d grow, therefore creating a new baseline from which to grow from, thus triggering an escalating process that led to their home, already significantly larger than those in the vicinity, to be even bigger on the inside, courtesy of ample amounts of spatial tearing and rearranging that very nearly qualified for status as a rift itself, if not for Harris’ full control of it. Plenty of eyebrows were still raised nonetheless, and not without some reason; were they not down there to prevent such incidents from occuring, rather than deliberately causing them just to satisfy a kink or scratch an itch? Were they not meant to stop the appearance of dimensional disturbances? All fine questions to have, questions which Harris himself foresaw, and then decided to respond by pointing out that, technically speaking, he hadn’t actually opened a rift. There were no dungeon dimensions in the couple’s house, nor did the doorway lead to somewhere else entirely; what he’d done was merely “borrow” some extra room from elsewhere and shove it in there in order to make it easy for the two of them to walk around, and not without ample justification as well. Really, did the gods expect him or the Alakazam to live inside a home that could barely fit a large-scale hyper, much less a demigod like himself? And sure, Lee wasn’t technically a divinity, nor even half of one, but he failed to see just what the problem there was; they were still huge, bigger even than himself, so as far as the Espeon was concerned, that meant the big buff hunk was just as entitled to have plenty of room as he was. Sure, this nebulous “plenty” was quite malleable as a result of Harris’ form also being such, but he failed to see just what the problem was; did the gods themselves not employ plenty of spacetime distortions of their own up in the halls of their pantheon? Why shouldn’t he, a being of divine heritage, also be allowed to make good use of those selfsame shortcuts for the sake of creature comforts? Really, was he expected to just grow his ass out in a regular bedroom? He’d be crashing through the walls before he even knew it! Not that he wasn’t already breaking the walls down, but that was beside the point; he couldn’t help that sometimes he just forgot how powerful his growth spurts could get, or how much mass he could pump into his rump before realizing he’d made a bit of a woopsie in terms of how colossal it had become. The gods still didn’t have a high horse to get onto though; Harris knew what sort of debauched nonsense they got up to when they thought no one was looking! He was told to forget it, but he remembered!