Layers - Part 3 (Commission for JackieShark)

TAGS: Meta Narrative/In-Universe Meta, Growth/Expansion, Hyper, Hyper Breasts/Butt, Curvaceous, Compressors

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A curious choice of words, seeing as for Jackie, the mere thought of a leak seemed so distant as to be entirely non-existent; despite the obvious sensation of fullness, the understanding and knowledge that her now-four breasts were so utterly filled with milk that they were ready to flood her immediate surroundings several times over, the sharkess had to contend with a dreadful dryness that refused to give way to the orgasmic, blissful release that she so desperately craved. Every step taken revealed just how laden her tits were, with the colossal milktanks not only wobbling so aggressively as to create endless shockwaves that coursed through the double bust, but sloshing so loudly as to make it genuinely difficult for her to even be able to focus on anything else; it was hard enough knowing that she had such a bounty within her, just waiting to be unleashed, quite another for it to be so blatant about itself, especially given the sheer weight that accompanied it all the while. It certainly didn’t help that, thanks to the complete and utter lack of any relief, all of the milk that Jackie was still producing had to go somewhere, and seeing as the taps refused to flow, the only place it could go was right back inside. Though her compressor layers were still enough to keep her mobile, this quality was rapidly approaching the “just” level, as the two rows of overstuffed udders the sharkess sported slowly swelled outwards, filling with their sweet contents with every step she took… but towards where? There was still something in her mind, a small fragment of a desire, of a thought that she once had; it was little more than an idea planted in her by the same people in charge of the narrative, of course, but it was still there nonetheless, guiding her towards her ultimate goal: shopping for supplies. It was simple, it was plain, but above all it was realistic; it only made sense that she had to stock up on food and other such essentials for her next trip, whenever that happened to be, given that her body’s metabolism was so entirely out of whack that it was entirely possible for her to need to eat her own body weight just to keep it going, let alone feel anything remotely close to full… and wasn’t that part of the charm? It was difficult for her not to think about such things, even if she was in the middle of a public hallway and people were trying to move around her; Jackie didn’t even consider the fact that her ass alone had already burgeoned outwards to the point where it covered over half the width of the pedestrian area, nor was she thinking about how her quad-tits, still bloating, still growing, somehow managed to be wider, not to mention one hell of a weight problem on the floor panelling. No, instead, she merely looked at herself, admiring every inch of every curve, truly and finally taking in just how excessive her body had become, and how utterly ungovernable she had made herself; to even begin to understand the caloric intake required to keep her tits from draining her body of every ounce of energy would require multiple degrees, to say nothing of the blatant disregard for the laws of causality that her growth had relied upon for the past day, but ultimately, that was entirely the point. She hadn’t asked the lynx for their help because she wanted something that made sense, Jackie did so because she wanted to indulge, and it was at this point, when the two authors decided to give her some level of awareness of the situation, that it all began to crash back into her like a glorious implosion of self-realizing horniness. It was at this moment that Jackie and Sara’s mentality truly became as one, much to the chagrin of the third party left to the side wondering why it was becoming so hard to walk around despite them not having enacted any changes, a pointless thought to have, really; despite the lynx’s best efforts, the sharkess and their AI companion had somehow conspired to give the former a breakthrough when it came to understanding the situation they were in, even if only on a superficial level, and to say that this led to some changes would be an understatement. There was no need for Jackie to ask for anything in particular; all she had to do was formulate the thought of “more”, the desire for wanting to expand her horizons, and Sara, not to mention Tim, would be more than happy to provide for her. It was a game to be played, a group of sliders to be pushed continuously in one direction, in tandem with the pleasure waves emanating from the deepest reaches of the shark’s brain whenever she formulated a series of exceptionally lewd thoughts. It was easy enough to match the two up, considering the duo in charge of the narrative were perfectly aware of everything going through Jackie’s head; it was a matter of waiting until her thought process fermented into a more palatable form, disparate wisps conjoining into a singular, more elaborate mental image, before simply giving the sharkess what she was thinking of: be it adding another cup size whenever she imagined the sensation of her tits swelling, extra inches to her ass or thighs whenever her attention was diverted to her backside, even giving in to the last failed idea and allowing Jackie’s belly to bloat outwards again whenever those stray thoughts glanced her hard enough to crystallize into a more solid form. Her whole body had become a plaything, not just of the two people she entrusted with it, but of herself, even if indirectly; it was a wide and broken smile that spread across her muzzle when the sharkess began moving again, her teeth bared and thin trickles of drool falling down onto her bust as she slowly made her way to where she remembered the biggest general store was, shaking the very structural frame of the station with each of her motions. Her whole body grew impossibly large in such a short period of time that it was a wonder the compression field was even working at all: from an ass so wide that each cheek was easily bigger than the whole rear had been back at the diner, to her four tits having swollen to such a degree that she had to physically drag them in front of her, completely incapable of seeing anything in front thanks to the boobwall, Jackie should not be capable of moving… and yet, she did. She did so because she had to, because the act of motion was what brought about the change, the growth, the swelling and filling and fattening; it was through moving forward in the story, through advancing this silly, inconsequential plot that she had placed herself in, that Jackie gave herself even more mass to work with, even when it became clear that she was reaching the point of no return when it came to self-control. Alas, she could barely bring herself to care; at that point, the idea of throwing herself headfirst into the maws of self-indulgent madness, to give up the idea of ever being in charge of her own actions, felt like the smartest course of action going forward. After all, had she not specifically requested for that to happen? Had she not asked to be turned into a grand display of size-based debauchery, there for all to see, at the mercy of those who could best give her what she wanted? She certainly believed so, and if that was the case, then it had to be true; even if it weren’t, the raw physical feedback her body gave her with every passing second made the experience too good to pass up, too good to ever give up on, doubly so once she reached her destination and it was immediately made obvious that she had, in essence, become too big. It was the shuttle all over again, with the distinction that at least back then, she managed to get in the transport before bloating all over its insides; in sharp contrast, once the sharkess dragged herself to the entrance of the store she had been going for, the reality of the situation sunk in. As befitting a large trade station as the one Jackie was landed on, the establishment was positively immense, serving to cater the needs of just about anyone that might land there, from the lowliest of couriers to the most debased of aristocracy; it was designed to be used by anyone, quite literally anyone, of a multitude of species with variations in size so wild that spatial distortion equipment had to be used in order to maintain a certain semblance of peace within the pocket dimension the store was built into. And yet, despite all this, Jackie just couldn’t go in: her tits were too big. Her ass was as well, but if that were the only problem, one could always resort to some good pushing; unfortunately, she couldn’t even progress to the point where her hips got stuck in the triple-wide doors designed to service whatever customers came in, for the moment she tried to push her double busts through it was the same one she realized she’d accidentally wedged them in between the glass doors. Attempting to move back only resulted in her pulling on her skin, with the quad-tanks attached to her chest refusing to budge, and trying to push forwards even more only led to the metal underneath and above, not to mention the reinforced glass panes on either side, groaning so menacingly as to nearly shock Jackie back to sanity… nearly. In any other circumstance, she might’ve considered it dangerous to try and force the issue; after all, not only were those doors made out of glass, but she was thinking of deliberately destroying private property when her bank account wasn’t anywhere near the level it had to be for her to consider such thoughts with the degree of blasé disinterest that she did. Thankfully, she wasn’t quite herself that day, hence why the notion of simply outgrowing her new prison felt like such a wonderful idea to try and put to practice; she did, ultimately, swell to such absurd sizes because she wanted to, and as a result, it only made sense that, should she so desire, she could just grow some more! Seeing as even glass and reinforced metal plating had their limits, it shouldn’t be too difficult for her to both find and then thoroughly smash through it, leaving her free to walk into the store and do whatever shopping she needed to do, blissfully unaware of how unnatural her behavior was, or how much attention it was garnering from the burgeoning crowd around her. For Jackie was in her own little world, far away from the worries and preoccupations of everyday life; she didn’t think about what would happen when she began wishing for her tits to grow even faster, only that it would free her to keep moving through her personal story, giving her more opportunities to become bigger, fuller, and perhaps even more numerous down the line. She wasn’t thinking of the consequences, merely the perks of being huge, and as a result, the thoughts that filled her mind were of herself and her body, the way that it was, and the way it was supposed to be. She pictured herself from a sideways view, with her body on one side of the door and her tits on the other; she saw it as a diagram of sorts, something that might be seen in a textbook, a problem for whom the solution was quite simple: bigger tits. And just as the solution was simple, so too was the execution; all that was required was the flick of a wrist and the addition of a few choice words into the plot, and soon enough the very doors that had kept Jackie from simply walking into the door had been reduced to shattered shards and bent pieces of metal lying on the ground, with the sharkess having released herself from her bind by way of outgrowing it, seemingly without any effort whatsoever. The same could be said for the ease with which she moved further into the store proper; one would assume that having two rows of udders several times bigger than herself would have led to some amount of awkwardness, but as the story required her to be capable of movement, at least for the time being, then Jackie could, put simply, move unimpeded because that’s what the narrative demanded. It had reached that point, where kink-fulfilling self-indulgence became more important than maintaining plausibility, the climax before which most things could be accepted so far as they added onto the budding explosion; things which would be decried as ridiculous were now embraced wholeheartedly without a second thought, such as the shark’s belly visibly bloating with each step she took, blueberry juice filling it from seemingly nowhere as the sloshing of the deep-blue liquid joined with the cacophonous milk production above it to create a sonorous distraction on a scale so terrifying that the station’s on-site security was called to… well, do something, even if no one quite knew what. Most likely end up infatuated by the sight, to the point where they’d be unable to do anything other than ogle and quietly beg to be stuffed in between the four still-growing milk factories utterly demolishing everything in front of them with each of Jackie’s movements. The sharkess really should’ve considered where she was going, but in her mind, the general store was easily spacious enough to accommodate her or any other hyper, at any conceivable size. And, in normal circumstances, it would’ve been perfectly capable of doing so; the entire station was designed to cater to the needs of the galactic population in general after all, and this meant having to deal with those individuals whose genetics gifted them with sizes that would normally be beyond the range of whatever species they belonged to. Indeed, the massive superstore was designed so that whenever someone walked through an aisle, whatever size they might be would be irrelevant, as the aisles being as wide as many terrestrial streets would allow them to walk freely without having to worry too much about bumping into either of the rows of shelves… though Jackie was well beyond what would qualify as a conceivable size to the store’s designers in her current form. She wasn’t doing it on purpose, of course; it just so happened that her body, by way of being a glorious vessel for unhinged, unbridled growth, was unable to be contained by anything for more than just a second or two. Even her own jacket had begun to fail, the fabric fraying and ripping itself apart bit by bit as the amount of mass it hit rapidly reached a critical tipping point and sent the sharkess into a downward spiral where the pleasure feedback began to overrule her ability to function properly. All she knew was that whenever she took a step, she grew: her ass would fatten, widening each cheek by several inches, her belly would bloat, half a foot of blueberry goodness slung out in front of her, and her tits would fill, countless gallons of milk stuffing them even further, still unable to feel release as her nipples steadfastly refused to produce even the smallest of droplets. The noises coming from her were somewhere in the realm of the indecent, and not just the ones produced naturally; with the amount of sensations filtering through her brain at any given point, it was entirely natural for the sharkess to have to externalize some of them, resulting in a series of whining moans that filled the air just as much as the sloshing milk did, rising in a crescendo almost as ridiculous as the one affecting her body. Every step was a process, a cycle that repeated itself: Jackie would lift one foot, then place it down in front of her, causing a loud, thrumming bassy shockwave to emanate from where she was; immediately afterwards, the vibrations spread through the rest of her, causing her belly to glorp loudly and her tits to churn even more painfully on everyone’s ears, along with the visual spectacle of the sharkess’ curves wobbling like gelatin. Finally, with a grandiose release of energy, Jackie would swell, her entire form surging outwards a few more inches as her compression jacket slowly, but surely, met its end at the hands of a body that it could no longer contain. This repeated itself time and again, as Jackie continued to walk forward, possessed not of any real objective, but of an instinctive, mostly subconscious understanding that she was supposed to move forward. There was a single stray thought left inside of her that yet related to the non-reason why she was at the store in the first place, hence why she still occasionally glanced at the products on the shelves, but her motivation had mostly been subsumed by the incessant, overpowering desire to grow bigger, and for that, she just had to keep moving. Step by step, inch by inch, the sharkess’ body bloated to the point where, finally, the store couldn’t handle her anymore. While she had thus far been able to navigate with enough room not to wedge between shelves or crush any bystanders against them, there inevitably came a point where she distantly felt the contact of metal shelves and boxes of foodstuffs against her bloated curves; from there, it was just a matter of time before the shark found herself pushing against both sides of the aisle, just a few more steps before her curves began to spill over the shelves and onto whoever was unlucky enough to be caught near her. For Jackie herself, most of this was happening outside of her range of view; with the amount of ass and tit she sported, the sharkess was effectively stuck inside a cocoon of her own soft flesh, enveloped on all sides by the sort of body that she could grope and knead for days on end and still not grow tired of. Movement was still possible, albeit only because the plot demanded it, with Jackie painstakingly forcing her legs to keep going long after the point where the amount of thigh between the two should’ve been enough to ground her, to say nothing of the positively ludicrous amounts of juice stored in the reservoir that was her belly. It was enough that the world around her had to start doing something about it, as unfortunately they weren’t under the control of the two souls ordaining the plot; not that they could do much, considering the reality-warping effects of just being near Jackie to begin with, but there was still one place aboard the station that could handle someone of the sharkess’ size, and it just so happened to be close enough that she could drag herself there: the changing rooms. Unlike the rest of the establishment, these had their own, plot convenient dimension distortion machinery, with a couple of them being designed specifically to cater to hyper-sized hypers; with her jacket visibly and audibly disintegrating around her more and more with each step, it was the only real way to prevent a structural incident when she finally decompressed. As far as Jackie was concerned, this mattered very little; the people around her, panicked as they might be, and clearly frightened by the sight of her, were asking her to move somewhere, and seeing as this meant moving, then she had no real reason to say no. Regardless of where it might be, it meant taking steps, it meant sloshing louder, it meant growing, it meant bloating, it meant refashioning herself into even more perfect shapes, it meant having bigger tits and a fatter ass and a fuller, rounder belly, it meant being so large that she could barely even move at all, enough that heavy machinery was needed to push her through the door to the changing room, along with a certain cat who’d momentarily lost control of their libido. It was fine though; for the two of them, being inside that room was the safest they could be, even if they had dozens of people monitoring their every move. Now, at least, Jackie’s compressor could finally reach the end of its life with some amount of dignity, as the sharkess suddenly realized that she was stuck inside of a room, and was thus unable to move anywhere else… and this left her somewhat distressed. So distressed, in fact, that the one thing she could think of to help alleviate this was to grow even more, and given that Tim was unfortunately indisposed of, trying to understand why it was their body was so unwieldy all of a sudden, Sara had no one to stop her from giving her friend exactly what they wanted. In an instant, her jacket ceased to be, every ounce of mass hidden away by it spilling into the outside world; had she been in the store itself, the result would’ve been catastrophic, as the raw size of Jackie would’ve been enough to break through the decks above, below, and potentially even out into space, depressurizing enough of the structure to thoroughly compromise it. In the changing room though? Plenty of volume to occupy, doubly so when extra power was diverted from the station’s reactor room to the compression equipment holding the room in one piece, giving the shark some relief when she was swept off her feet and pushed upwards on top of her belly; up until then, the poor thing had been unable to see just what had happened to her body, but now that her bust and gut were allowed to be at their real sizes, Jackie was left stranded atop a rounded form that, for all intents and purposes, had left her completely immobilized… and conveniently pinned down underneath an ass wide enough that even then she only had the slightest slit of empty space through which to admire her curves. It was orbs, all the way down, her whole body having become a series of circles filled with all manner of fluids (or just plain old fat, in her rear’s case), begging for more as they continuously filled, continuously swelled, continuously bloated. It was difficult to measure, if only because the moment someone did, the number had inevitably become obsolete, a process that only got worse the more Jackie came to understand it, as she had surrendered entirely to the lust for even more growth, and no longer cared whether or not she destroyed the station and everything surrounding it. Unfortunately, someone else did, seeing as they had a permanent residence there; an unfortunate reality, but alas, a reality nonetheless. Perhaps, the AI thought, she should walk by with a reinforced compression jacket, allowing Jackie to get back on her feet… somewhat.