Cycles (Patreon Commission for RhythmicSlither)

TAGS: Hyper, Growth/Expansion, Vore/Anal Vore, Vore Growth, Macro/Megamacro/Gigamacro

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The group foolishly believed themselves safe, stuck inside of a building where they were certain that beast couldn’t get to them. Perhaps the fear had gripped them too much for them to put two and two together, or maybe they were so desperate that even the faintest inkling of a solution was enough for them to throw themselves at it like a desperate group of souls holding out for a life raft. Whatever the case, the dozen or so remaining town residents huddled together on one end of the Poké-center, the lights turned off and their backs against the wall, staring at the front door as the thundering steps of the creature that had consumed every last remaining townie came closer and closer, the looming shadow of their engorged frame being cast over the entrance to the health center. They stopped right on the other side of the door, just far enough away that they didn’t trigger the automatic mechanisms… and then turned around. The Pokémon inside couldn’t believe it; somehow, against all odds, that thing had actually given up trying to go after them, carefully maneuvering themselves in order to turn themselves away from where the survivors were hiding in order to leave them in peace! The group collectively held its breath, waiting for the monster to walk away, when suddenly, and without warning, their eardrums were nearly burst open.

Rather than walking away, the creature had instead sat down, having used their immense rear to not just push through the walls of the Poké-center, but collapse them entirely, getting around the issue of not fitting through the doors by simply making a brand new entrance, reducing most of the façade to bits of floating plaster and shards of glass that bounced harmlessly off their rotund, perfectly immaculate cheeks. Those things were enormous, easily big enough to go all the way from the ground to the roof itself, filling up the hole they made courtesy of the many, many Poké-snacks they had consumed in the last hour or so. And there, “riding” atop them, their body obscured by the cloud of debris, their deep violet eyes shining through the haze, gleaming like headlights, was him.

No one could see it, but the Sylveon was licking his lips at the mere sight of so many precious meals waiting for him to take them and shove them somewhere where they could be of far greater use, his eyes seemingly lighting up even more as the thoughts flashed through his mind. Just a single hour earlier, there had been a whole town there, with a couple of hundred inhabitants all happily living their lives, not knowing that he was walking down to read to where they led their monotonous routines, dreadfully ravenous and wanting to make that everyone else’s problem. The trail of trees he knocked down on the way there would serve as a good enough warning to anyone approaching that something terrible had taken place, as would the various smashed buildings that he was responsible for, either through forcing his way in like he did with the Poké-center, or somehow squeezing inside and then deciding that doing the same on the way out wasn’t worth the hassle. Walls were, after all, meant to be torn down by asses bigger than they were.

An ass that had grown nice and large over the course of his “stay” in the town. It wasn’t as if Ark had ever been small; far from it, in fact, as there was a very good reason that trail of trees was there to begin with. Even before beginning his feast anew, the Sylveon had a rear so gigantic that it really did look like his upper body had been plucked from a more proportional butt and then glued onto the lower half of some titanic creature of far greater a size than his; and yet, despite this obvious lack of proportionality, he still managed to move around with an amount of grace unbefitting a body that was as unbalanced as his was. Even now, with asscheeks big enough to fill up the space between the ground and the ceiling of the Poké-center he had just crashed into, it was child’s play for him to get back up and move towards the terrified, huddled mass of snacks waiting to be devoured… but why should he do that? The hardest part was already done and over it, getting rid of the barrier between himself and the dessert portion of his meal, so why not stay sat down and enjoy it as much as he could?

The last thing that those unfortunate souls saw were the two beaming, flashing lights of violet that burned through the dark, murky atmosphere, their intensity doubling momentarily as a flurry of ribbons emerged from the Sylveon’s body and flew towards the huddled mass, twisting and turning in midair and yet deftly avoiding becoming entangled in one another, Ark’s eyes and desires set only on those delicious little pieces of prey just waiting for him to swoop in and take them for himself. The screams could’ve been muffled, as his ribbons were long enough to wrap around their bodies and still have enough left to cover their mouths twice over, but where was the fun in that? Better to leave them fully capable of begging for their lives and pleading for the Sylveon not to take them as well, right before their words fell on deaf ears and were promptly muffled in an entirely different way altogether. It was almost an art form, picking which one of the many wonderful little treats he should pick first, even if he always ended up going for the squirmiest, the one who most struggled, the one who didn’t surrender to despair and tried to fight it all the way to the end.

They always tasted best going down. Or up, as the case may be.

This time, it was an incredibly feisty Eevee (how appropriate) trying to wrestle with a superior form of themselves even after it became evident that their body just wasn’t strong enough to resist. Ark made sure to enjoy the moment, bringing his first victim of the last feast over as close to himself as possible, keeping them at eye-level so that they could stare at one another, close enough for his snack to see him licking his lips, to fear for just a moment that they might be devoured in an entirely different manner… before being brought down and unceremoniously shoved straight into the middle of Ark’s asscheeks, the ribbons letting go of them now that they were kept safe somewhere that they literally could not escape from. They’d still try; goodness, they all desperately tried to get away from the vice grip of the Sylveon’s enormous rear, they all tried to fight back against muscles that were far too powerful for them to do anything about it, and they all ended up only digging themselves deeper the more they tried to resist it, forcing themselves into an untimely end thanks mostly to how hard they kept trying to prevent it from happening. All Ark had to do was sit there and let his body do most of the work; all that was required of him was to clench his ass and everything would just fall into place, his eyes rolling slightly upwards into his skull once he felt the first surge of growth hit him again.

It was nothing short of wonderful very time it happened, and though it always felt technically the same, the fact that his butt just kept getting bigger meant he had so many more nerve endings to be aroused and energized, leading to ever-greater flashes of raw pleasure being shot up his spine and directly into his brain, a serotonin hit that only grew more powerful the bigger he himself became. He couldn’t even explain the process himself; maybe it was fairy magic, or maybe it was how often he got around to doing it, but his body had gotten very good at digesting and reprocessing his prey whenever he really got into the rhythm of it; it was made better whenever they struggled as well, with the results always coming out larger than expected the more his snack refused to be eaten and turned into more pudge for that immense rear of his. And seeing as the Eevee fought all the way down and until the very last moment, it wasn’t at all surprising that the ensuing growth spurt was loud enough to rattle the very windows in their frames, the ground rumbling as the shockwaves created by that advancing wall of flesh nearly shattered the panes and cracked the floor tiles; the ceiling groaned loudly as each cheek pressed against it, the hole in the ground from where he sat down widening as the mass just kept on piling, Ark letting loose a long, drawn-out expletive as his mouth hung open and his tongue lolled freely from it, a trickle of drool falling onto his chest as he allowed his head to hang back for the duration of the size boost. By the end, after each of his cheeks had bloated a good three feet in every direction, bringing the ceiling down and exposing the Poké-center to the light of the day, then Ark remembered why he always ate the feisty ones first.

He took a while to recover, but from there it was easy enough to take care of whoever was left; the only negative aspect of these feeding frenzies was that his prey eventually just stopped resisting altogether, at least physically and especially after these little displays of his, making it harder to enjoy some proper meals after he got rid of the more troublesome ones. Then again, there were still plenty of them to go around, and listening to them whimper and whine as their bodies were added to his was positively elating in its own very special way. Sure, they didn’t make him burgeon outwards as hard as the fighters did, but given that his growth only got worse the more he fed himself in quick succession, he still had a handful left when he broke clean through the entirety of the Poké-center itself, the walls bulging out for just a second before they were utterly obliterated, the entire building exploding in every direction as Ark grew simply too big for it to handle properly. Within a handful of minutes, the Sylveon had gone from “just” big enough to collapse the front wall of it, to each cheek being bigger than the center had been beforehand, two colossal mounds dominating the entirety of the empty town with a very lusty and lust-drunk Ark sitting atop them; and, seeing as he was already that big (and his mind was going places that it couldn’t come back from already), there was really no point in holding off the inevitable. After all, he might get good results by consuming someone who refused to be eaten, but shoving multiple snacks into his ass at the same time?

Things got multiplicative at that point.

If once there had been a town where Ark was sitting down, now there was nothing else beyond Ark himself… or at least two very specific parts of Ark, having bulged out and engorged as they gorged themselves on a feast of fools who once thought themselves safe within such pitiful things as walls. It wasn’t as good as it could be if they had all bothered to at least try to resist, but the Sylveon couldn’t really complain now that his ass was big enough to not just flatten whatever was left of the buildings around him, but in just a few moments go from building-sized to enormous to the point where he was pushing the trees ringing the city outwards with the sheer might of his girth. It wasn’t the first time this happened, nor would it be the last, but it always marked the exact moment where he went from simply ravenous and desirous for more to utterly uncontrollable… not that anyone could really hold him back before, but now even Ark himself couldn’t keep a lid on his own hunger, feeling it welling up inside of him as his appetite began to shift towards meals of a much more filling nature. After all, at a size so colossal as his own, consuming regular, people-sized Pokémon wasn’t going to do much to him, and being as hungry for extra size as he was, the Sylveon wasn’t going to take anything less than something that could make him gigantic.

If he wanted to do that, however, he couldn’t do so while sitting down, he had to go look for some treats, he had to go hunting if he really wanted to experience the sort of bliss he was lusting for. One could be forgiven for thinking that having an ass the size of a whole (if small) town would make it impossible for him to even so much as get up, let alone walk, and indeed when he did just that the world seemed to warp in change in ways that betrayed how unnatural it was for him to be able to just hop onto his feet and start walking around as if he wasn’t big enough to spotted across the horizon, even over the treeline. The seismic impact of each of his footsteps was strong enough to be felt for miles in every direction, and the sonic shockwaves created with each clap of his tremendously oversized asscheeks were powerful to the point where they outright uprooted trees and stripped several others of their leaves, leaving behind a trail of destruction wherever the fairy-type happened to be walking, as much a testament to his might as it was to his endless desire for more.

His body looked almost comically undersized compared to what it was stuck on top of, a diminutive torso barely visible above a sun-blotting pair of thighs and an even more gigantic couple of cheeks possessed of so much mass that they might as well have their own gravitational pull. He wasn’t even seeing straight anymore; his eyes were unfocused, half-lidded, barely gleaming compared to the predatory shine that they had displayed just moments before, taken as they were by the mind-altering lust that always took him over whenever he completely lost control and gave in to his most base desires. They would focus eventually, as soon as they spotted something big enough to sate that burning need he felt in the very core of his body, but until then his body was running on auto-pilot, ripping apart whole chunks of the forest with each step, destroying vast swathes of it with each motion, the ground cracking underneath his paws with each step he took. Eventually though, he’d finally lay eyes on something that brought him back to reality, something that made him instinctively lick his lips just from the sight of it.

Or, rather, someone.

Ark didn’t know whether it was pure coincidence or just the fact that he’d done this so many times before that his muscle memory automatically brought him to the one place he knew he would find his next snack without any need for input on his part; the fact of the matter was that every time he was done with consuming enough prey to make himself massive enough to become a geographical landmark, each time he went ahead and gorged himself to the point where the simple act of walking made the planet strain underneath his footsteps, there was always someone there waiting for him, ready to be taken and turned into more pudge. But not just any someone, not just any Pokémon; no, this one was as colossal as the Sylveon himself was (or their ass at least), and powerful enough to not only present itself as a proper meal, but as a worthy challenge to Ark in the lust-addled state that he was in.

Were he still in possession of his mental faculties, the fairy-type might’ve thought twice about why exactly he had Groudon staring him down and roaring at him like he was some kind of global menace; it wasn’t every day that a mythical continent-shaper showed its face around those parts just like that, nor was it anything remotely related to normal that they’d go on a spiel about how much of a menace Ark was or how they had to be stopped for the good of everyone else. Frankly, the whole situation was cartoonish in how absurd it was, and wouldn’t be that out of place in a morning cartoon about giant mechas if not for the fact that one of the combatants was very clearly naked and had an ass big enough to flatten an entire town without even trying. On one side, a colossal, plated beast of a legendary charging at Ark with the full intent to put an end to them, and on the other a very hungry, very horny Sylveon who could only really look at the Groudon as the next step of his inevitable ascension towards the heavens. Really, how little he cared would be disrespectful towards a creature of such magnitude and power if not for Ark’s own skewed priorities; as far as he cared, being wrapped up and forced to become even more ass for himself was nothing short of an honour, especially for a titanic creature of that size. Not only would they add their considerable power and might to a butt that could very much use it, but given their role in myths and legends, they would carry on performing their ancestral duties of reshaping the very lands themselves! Sure, this reshaping would be of a far more flattening variety, and wouldn’t exactly end up in the creation of anything so much as its utter destruction, but it was the thought that counted, surely.

Still, it was a shame in some regards; that Groudon was quite the hunk, not to mention possessed of some sizeable assets that the poor thing couldn’t really control, even when he tried to make a show of how much Ark didn’t intimidate him. It wasn’t his fault, of course, even the greatest and most resilient of foes inevitably had to react in some way to seeing an ass big enough to blot out the sun and consume entire sections of the landscape of its owner felt so inclined, but again, it wasn’t every day that the fairy-type got to see prey whose cock felt delicious enough that he might just want to have a proper taste before it went somewhere more useful. Alas, love and care were not in the Groudon’s mind when they began charging at their equally-gigantic opponent, the land beneath their feet crumbling and cracking as the colossus rushed towards the walking disaster area with his mouth open and ready to deliver pain and molten misery. All Ark did was cock a single eyebrow, wondering if that giant really thought they’d be able to do anything at all now that he himself was as big as they were.

With a body that large, and so many more Pokémon having been consumed to have it be that massive, creating ribbons to subdue and capture even more prey was as simple as snapping his fingers; such a tiny gesture and yet it heralded the emergence of a forest of those things, flying through the air and wrapping themselves around every inch of the Groudon that they could find, taking special care to squeeze and squish that enormous cock of his, or those gloriously glistening pecs he had on full display. Even his mouth was shut, half a mile of ribbons used to keep it taped up and unable to move, even if the colossus tried in vain to unhinge his jaw and make good use of his powers; his arms and legs flailed about, a desperate and pointless attempt at fighting against the flurry of ribbons that only got denser and more numerous the more he struggled against it, until finally, and with a loud enough thud that hundreds of trees were either destroyed outright or flattened by the shockwave, the giant tripped over himself and toppled over.

It was pitiful, in a way, to see someone so powerful, someone so beastly and imposing turned into little more than a turtle flipped on its back and unable to get back on its feet properly, his arms and legs ineffectually attempting to push away the ribbons keeping them firmly under control like a life-sized, hill-sized marionette. Ark was thoroughly enjoying the show though; not only was this giant of a prey true eye candy, but they were feisty too, and judging from how much they were trying to fight their inevitable fate, the end result on his own size would be… overwhelming. Why, the Sylveon could barely contain himself just thinking about it, his brow pouring with sweat and his tongue licking his lips once again as he envisioned just how impossibly enormous he would become once he forced that monster straight between his cheeks. So why wait? Why hold out on what was owed to him and instead not just start pulling the Groudon across the ground, bringing them over his head and behind him where he could get a good look at the last two things he’d ever see before being consumed by darkness, flinching each time he felt the mythical creature fruitlessly attempt to escape. It made the moment where he pushed them forward all the more delicious for it, and it only ever got better from there.

With a snack that large, it was inevitable that the growth would start again even before the damned thing was fully inside of him, even accounting for the fact that Ark’s ass was itself big enough that each cheek could contain the Groudon a couple of times over if they wrapped themselves up in a ball. Take their size and couple it with how hard they were fighting though, and this created the perfect recipe for disaster… for the planet around the two, at the very least. Ark couldn’t control himself anymore, the onslaught of sensations filtering through to his brain and taking up the entirety of his spine’s nerve connections making it hard for him to even keep his ribbons under control; then again, given that the Groudon was up to his shoulders inside of his cheeks anyway, there wasn’t any real reason to keep those spindly things there, as the immense rear he sported was more than powerful enough to keep his prey nice and safe inside of it. Thus, all the Sylveon did was sit back down and allow his muscles to do all of the work for him, while his hands moved forward to caress the base of his cock and his eyes rolled fully upwards into his skull this time around.

He could feel it coming: the rumbling, the quaking of the earth, the low groaning of his skin as it struggled to expand to meet the demands of his new size, still managing to do so while keeping just enough behind the curve to give Ark that delectable sensation of pressure and excess that made his transformations so much more pleasurable than they had any right to be. Anyone for several miles around would be able to hear it as well: the slightly muffled noises of a Groudon being consumed and turned into more Sylveon pudge, the wobbling of cheeks that grew more massive with each second that passed, the cracking of tree trunks that were bent out of shape before the whole damned tree was uprooted and then flattened into thin paste, the moving of air currents as errant shockwaves coursing through those two enormous orbs led to strong enough clapping to break the sound barrier, it was all there. It was all there and it was all too much, too powerful, too overwhelming for Ark’s mind to really begin to understand, and as such the poor thing ended up shutting his eyes and letting his body take over, content in the knowledge that, by the time it would be over, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything else.

And so, he consumed. Not just the Groudon, though that was the main source of fuel for his ascension, but everything else as well; stoked and powered by a colossus that refused to stop struggling until half of its body was nicely packed away inside the Sylveon’s impossibly gigantic rear, it wasn’t all that surprising when the fairy-type began to roll over the landscape itself, vaporizing anything it slammed into and seriously simplifying geographical maps as he removed hills, mountains, towns and cities from the face of the planet, his instincts ensuring that thousands upon thousands of ribbons emerged from his body ahead of the main wall of butt to grab hold of and then snack on the millions of souls waiting to be thrown straight into his ass along with the main course; this only worsened the growth spurt, multiplying its already near-exponential effects until the whole damn globe was feeling the seismic tremors created by a body too great to really exist on something as simple and unassuming as a single planet. No, more was needed, and more would be had.

At that point, not outgrowing the planet would be more complicated than just allowing things to progress naturally, and by “naturally” he of course meant engulfing his former home until such a point as, rather than simply sitting on the globe, he felt it slowly sink into the folds of his cheeks, going in deeper and deeper as those enormous spheres of wobbly fat became so far-reaching and magnificent in scale that, quite honestly, it was a wonder the Sylveon wasn’t in a perpetual state of orgasm simply from existing. But he knew better; he could allow himself to give in, could simply succumb to that primal need to pleasure himself forever, but he wouldn’t have forever to do so, given that the next stage in his ascent was rapidly approaching. After all, he couldn’t really expect to engage in that sort of rampant destruction without someone taking notice, someone like, say, the very creator of existence itself, who took umbrage with the fact that Ark was once again engaging in the sort of destructive, lust-fueled depravities that had already cost reality a few resets in the past.

This, above all things, was the true reason why Ark had seen everything that happened so far as perfectly natural, because, honestly… it was. It hadn’t been the first time he went from a slim and perfectly mundane Sylveon to one possessed of an ass big enough to bust through walls, then from there onwards to something so grand and imposing that it could cast a shadow on entire cityscapes before moving onwards to consume the whole damned planet. It hadn’t been the first time he tangled with a giant like Groudon, even if it hadn’t always been them before, and it hadn’t been the first time he allowed his ribbons to fetch him more raw material from the local solar system to push into him before trying to see if he could reach the Sun before Arceus descended upon him; one of these days, he’d manage to get there.

In the meantime, now he had a very pissed off creator deity forgoing any sort of introduction before throwing themselves at him. The two had met several times before, on account of Ark’s complete and total disregard for the natural order, and being the only two beings in the entirety of existence that could actually remember the many times their confrontations took place, it was nothing if not natural for them to skip the pleasantries and get down to business, even if it always ended in the same way every single time. As much as Arceus tried, as much as he struggled and fought against fate, as much as he took the Sylveon’s mercy as a sign of weakness and clearly proof that he only had to try harder to win next time (when in reality it was merely the fairy-type deciding to toy with his newest snack precisely to provoke that reaction), they never snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Rather, every time the two of them met, in ended in the exact same way: Arceus would throw itself and the might of the cosmos at Ark, and one ribbon flurry later they would be stuck between two cheeks bigger than they were, followed by a short moment where the Sylveon relaxed his grip to provide some false hope before clenching again and sucking in his grandest and greatest meal yet.

The power they wielded, plus the fact that they struggled even harder than the Groudon (or whatever giant ensured Ark’s transition to godhood) did, all-but guaranteed that there wouldn’t be any stopping for the Sylveon. Now that the cosmos was devoid of anyone or anything that could even remotely begin to think about stopping them, let alone actually doing so, there were no more brakes, no more limits, no more anything in between himself and taking up the entirety of existence as he merely absorbed whatever was on his path, all of it going directly into a bottom half that only became more egregiously over-endowed as seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to light-years, reality itself fraying at the edges trying to contain him. There would be no stopping until everything, quite literally everything had been turned into some kind of prey for him to consume and delight himself with, not until there was nothing left in the universe but himself, filling it to bursting and ready to go for seconds.

Of course, there were no seconds, he’d eaten them all. Unless, of course, he were to use some of his immense power to break through the final boundaries and force existence to reset itself to prevent a complete meltdown, bringing him back to where he started.

Again.

And forever.