Prompt of the Week - Week 58

TAGS: Growth/Expansion, Muscle/Muscle Growth, Hidden Growth, Compressor/Compressor Failure, Bulking/Growthlust

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Yet another day where Julia had to sit down at the dinner table and act like she wasn’t thoroughly dissatisfied with what was on the plate in front of her. It had become a daily ritual of sorts, so much so that she practically had the entire process down to a series of well-defined steps of such granularity that the yeen occasionally changed the way that one of her cheeks was positioned to give herself a more innocent look, or the angle at which her feet were placed in relation to her parents’; it was a game as well, for her to see just how far she could go in doing the exact same thing every day before those two figured it out, a game she was apparently quite good at, seeing as it had been going on for years and the older hyenas still hadn’t noticed how off their daughter’s behavior at the dinner table was. Yet, despite all this, Julia never truly won, for ultimately she still had to abide by her parents’ culinary and dietary habits, and that meant eating only the bare minimum required to keep their bodies functioning while burning off any calories deemed “excessive”. While lean living certainly had its perks, and none could deny that the married couple looked absolutely stunning with their slim figured, it just wasn’t for Julia; she liked eating, she liked being able to scarf down half her body weight in protein, and above all, she adored being able to turn it all into bulk. Her parents, however, detested this notion; for them, the ideal body type was one that had been stripped down to just what it needed to work properly, and the work that went into sculpting a form that was at once lithe and yet still capable of going through daily life with no trouble was often equated to an art form. Julia herself couldn’t deny this, as her parents were, at the end of the day, the picture of health; the intergenerational disagreement was far more a question of personal preference on aesthetics than anything remotely practical, and it just so happened that one side of the argument was dependent on the other for housing and food, thus precluding the need for an argument in the first place. Julia had learned a long time prior that trying to argue with her old folks was a waste of time; not that they’d trot out the same-old tired arguments one might expect, but more so thanks to them being obsessed with their lean lifestyle, to the point where their minds literally could not comprehend why their daughter would ever want anything else for themselves. Granted, Julia was exactly the same herself, though at least she was able to recognize this and avoid the topic altogether, with the battle lines drawn between herself and her parents being little more than an academic debate in practice… especially since they couldn’t control what she did outside the house. Debates on the merits of lean living were all fine and all, but the moment Julia closed the front door behind her, they ceased having any meaning whatsoever. She might live with her parents still, but the yeen had her own source of income, her own social circle, her own hobbies; it just happened to be cheaper not to move out yet, even if she had plans to do so within the next few years. In fact, most of her time was spent away from those constricting walls, and in that time Julia had grown to appreciate the finer, bigger things in life: namely, how her body seemed almost supernaturally adapted to packing on muscle mass with minimal effort and even less actual physical exercise. It started when she paid for membership at the local gym some time prior, and through sheer coincidence met one of her coworkers, who offered to show them around the place and even spot for them if the yeen felt like getting adventurous; it was here that Julia was offered a protein shake for the first time in her life, and though she was initially reluctant to accept it, as soon as her tongue felt the first pangs of flavour, she knew that it was what she wanted for herself. It was an epiphany really, a moment where her life was turned inside out and the future became clearer than ever before, a moment where Julia realized that her destiny lay not in trying to trim down her waist as much as possible, but in bulking out and turning herself into a paragon of musculature and raw power. It certainly helped that her rather unique biology left her with a metabolism so hyper-accelerated that, by the time she was done with her first day at the gym, her arms were already visibly more toned, her belly tighter, even her pecs harder; she refused to believe it at first, but with some expertly-chosen words on the part of her coworker, came to understand that she wasn’t hallucinating, but rather looking at a taste of what her future self would be like if only she put in the effort. Sadly, this did pose a slight issue in that the yeen’s parents would absolutely refuse to accept this, and were likely to impose sanctions if they noticed their daughter suddenly expanding outwards with muscle mass; in any other circumstance, this might’ve been a genuinely headache-inducing dilemma, as, personal preferences notwithstanding, Julia’s relationship with her old folks was one of the highlights of her life, and the prospect of lying to them was almost unbearable… though, on the other hand, whenever she stopped to think about what she’d be lying about, it was hard to ignore how much her legs began quivering all on their own, or how much sweat poured down her brow. The solution, as Julia came to understand it after phoning home and letting her parents know she’d be out for the night, was to not lie to begin with; after all, a lie was an active process, something false that was said, uttered, thus requiring actual sound to be produced in the form of a word or sentence. If Julia simply said nothing at all, and continued to act as if things were perfectly normal, then it would only be a harmless omission; that this was a purely academic distinction didn’t bother her so much as the means by which it would be achieved, because compressor gear, while absolutely vital to the deception, wasn’t exactly cheap. It came down to the yeen staring at the latest models through a display window in the local superstore, the pit in her stomach widening as she carefully balanced her need to bulk up even more and the idea of being fully independent by means of getting a house of her own; the internal debate lasted long enough that the yeen had to take a break from it to get some dinner, at which point her mind was so battered by the conflict that it rebooted itself in auto-pilot, bringing Julia to the nearest steakhouse she could find. Before she knew what she was doing, the yeen found herself staring at a plate wider than her head, carrying a steak so heavy that she could swear the damned table was buckling underneath its weight; her first instinct was to assume she wouldn’t be able to eat it all, with the second one being a much louder voice telling her to shut up and devour that thing already, then call for seconds the moment it was possible. The latter side of herself won, unsurprisingly, causing quite a bit of consternation for the steakhouse’s wait staff when they were suddenly faced with an already-athletic yeen inexplicably growing with each bite she took; all the protein was repurposed in real time, Julia’s body apparently still working on overdrive from all the effort she put into it back at the gym, and by the time she was done with the first steak, her clothes barely even fit her anymore. The hyena herself was barely aware of this; looking to the side and seeing a bicep the size of a bowling ball, or looking down at a pair of engorged tits resting on hardened pecs struck her as completely normal, and entirely within the realm of the ordinary, hence why she didn’t hesitate in ordering another steak for her to sate her hunger… because she was hungry, and it wouldn’t be one serving that would make that go away. The thought of how much money she was throwing down her gullet never once occurred to her; by the time she was done, or rather, by the time the cooking staff sent someone to tell her they ran out of stock, the yeen was devouring steaks in a single gulp, her head was a good twelve feet off the ground, and her body alone took up most of the dining area, fully in the nude after having ripped through the clothes keeping her decent. Not that the yeen was in any way preoccupied with people finding her exposed form to be offensive enough to call the police on her; she was entirely convinced that her presence alone was enough to quell anything remotely resembling dissent, enough to pacify those who laid eyes on her… at least until she reached the compressor gear store and pushed her way through the front door (and a significant chunk of the glass panes around it), waving her wallet in one hand and pointing to herself with the other, asking if they had something of her size as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. From there on, things progressed in the only way they really could, as after tasting freedom, Julia had no intention of letting go of it, even if it meant weaponizing omission whenever she was at home with her parents. As far as her folks were concerned, she was exactly the same person she’d always been: slim, lithe, the picture of perfect health (by their standards, at least) and obedience to the strict regimen they imposed within their family home; out of the house, however, Julia took her exercise routine to greater heights on a near-daily basis, consuming some frankly ludicrous quantities of protein both during and after her workouts. While she wasn’t ever stupid enough to reveal her true size to the world, not after she just barely managed to avoid unwanted publicity after her little stunt in the superstore, she nonetheless kept a close watch on her true dimensions, if only because the compressor gear she bought for herself, consisting of a pair of earrings and a bracelet, could only hold so much mass, and seeing as they weren’t anywhere near the top of the line, this amount was… lacking. Not for most people, of course; for the vast majority of potential buyers, what Julia had spent a significant chunk of change on would be perfectly acceptable for their needs, and even growth-afflicted hypers would get some fantastic mileage out of the set. It just so happened that Julia had taken a liking to having her body bulk up the way that it did whenever she put in the slightest amount of effort, or whenever protein was consumed, and she wasn’t going to slow down just because she was fast approaching the limits of what her purchase could hold back. It didn’t help that the yeen couldn’t make use of the safety valve option; normally, allowing a percentage of one’s full mass “spill” onto realspace from the compressor’s dimensional pocket was a convenient way of staving off the need for a new purchase, but seeing as Julia didn’t have that option, lest she be forced to have a rather awkward conversation with her parents, everything she gained had to be hidden away… and there was a lot there for her to hide. Past a certain point, every morning she would wake up and rummage through her sock drawer, producing the compressors’ control device she had hidden away, and every morning Julia would wince when she looked at the numbers and realized she’d undergone a growth spurt during the night. Whether it be protein she hadn’t digested yet or her body losing control of itself, the yeen didn’t know, but it didn’t take more than a couple of months from her first adventure in expansive fun for her height to break the thirty foot line, to say nothing of the muscle mass measurements that she lacked the frame of reference to even begin to understand. Surely, the numbers couldn’t be telling her that her biceps were bigger than cars, but… what other explanation was there? Either that or her compressors were broken, and Julia didn’t feel lucky enough to find out by removing them while within five miles of civilization; at one point she considered just taking a drive out to the wilderness, or at least as close to it as she could, but not only would that raise some suspicion, there was always the possibility that the compression field wouldn’t be able to shrink her back down after she turned it off. That might very well be the case, that the only reason it was still working was because it hadn’t been turned off from the moment it was first made to function… which, at least as far as Julia remembered from the safety manual, was absolutely not the way they were designed to work. Those things were meant to be turned off at least semi-regularly, lest the dimensional distortions they worked off of grow unstable and incapable of hiding as much mass as they should; that her own equipment hadn’t failed yet was nothing short of a miracle after months of continuous operation, but the yeen knew that she was headed for disaster every moment that she kept the damned things running. Yet, at the same time, that exact same disaster scenario brought with it a non-zero amount of… arousal was certainly close enough to it, though Julia would never be so bold as to admit it, not even to herself. The growth spurt that caused it all had been immeasurably fantastic to go through, but it was dangerous for her to think in those terms, especially since her subsequent size boosts were so much greater than the first one that there was a reasonable chance of her kickstarting a vicious cycle that couldn’t possibly be broken; all the gym work didn’t help either, since Julia certainly wasn’t going to stop exercising just because she was approaching the limit of what her compressors could hold back. The fact that she didn’t have the money for replacements didn’t bother her as much as the notion that she hadn’t yet broken the damned things open, a thought that occurred to her far more often than it had any right to, and one that the yeen had to consciously push back, lest it overtake her completely. Then again, every time she did, there was a part of her that asked why, that questioned the necessity of self-denial; after all, if she just revealed herself as she was, then surely her parents would be incapable of doing anything at all, not to a giantess that could easily bench press their entire home without even breaking a sweat. Surely, if she just took those things off, the world would be her oyster, as from that point forward there would be nothing that could stop her, and all the energy that went into trying to hide herself could be put towards more productive ends, such as making herself even bigger, or eating more protein to accelerate her basic growth rate. Intrusive thoughts, and ones that insisted on making themselves known to Julia even when she didn’t want to actively fantasize about them, so much so that the amount of time she spent kicking her true instincts down and replacing them with the polite fiction of being an obedient little daughter had begun to wear down on her. The yeen began spending more and more time out of the house, purely because she couldn’t take it anymore; at least in the gym she didn’t have to worry about pretending, even if her true size was known only to her and the coworker that helped kickstart the whole thing. At least when she went to her new favourite steakhouse (the first one being avoided like the plague in case anyone recognized her), she knew she didn’t have to worry about hiding her ravenous appetite. Sure, it left everyone there confused as to how someone of her diminutive size could pack away dozens of steaks as if they were nothing, but as long as the money kept flowing, no one was going to ask any questions. The routine had been taking place for long enough that no one thought twice when Julia showed up, not even when her body looked… different, than it usually did. It’d been three months since the yeen had begun her journey upwards and outwards, three months of continuous compressor operation, and at long last, the trinkets were starting to fail. Three months, and for the first time in quite a while, the wait staff felt like piping up; not for anyone else’s sake, but for Julia’s, since clearly there was something wrong with her clothes hugging her form as much as they did, their seams tugging apart and ripping into shreds whenever the yeen took a bite. It took them a few moments to realize what was actually happening, at which point they gently suggested that Julia please take it easy and not eat any more food… which only resulted in a glare so powerful that more people were called in from their day off to cook for the burgeoning yeen. Sure, the clothes on her body were rapidly torn apart and the compressor trinkets were soon enough going to end up becoming scrap metal; Julia’s full form would escape into realspace, and whatever carefully construction fiction was still present would surely be destroyed once news spread of the giantess that utterly wrecked the local superstore.

But that hardly mattered.

Julia still wasn’t satisfied.