Seven Whole Days - Part 1 (Patreon Commission for Rychen)

TAGS: Vixen, BE (Both Bs), Growth/Expansion, Hyper, Lactation/Milk, Mini-Macro

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“I’m sorry, how long?!”

The doctor in front of her didn’t look like he wanted to answer that question, presumably because he was afraid he just might end up smothered against the wall by a pair of tits bigger than his own head or sat down upon by an ass that was just as big. It had been bad enough to conduct the whole appointment while having to look at so much cleavage that the vixen may as well be fully nude if she so desperately wanted to show off, but now he had to tell this endless pit of horny energy that she was supposed to go for a full week without tapping into her very nature, or satisfying the desires that had led her to becoming what she was nowadays.

“I’m afraid it’s the only way we can be certain of how to proceed,” the endocrinologist explained, choosing his words very carefully when he heard his patient sloshing with how much she was shifting around in her seat, “in order for us to devise a proper medication schedule, we need to know what your baseline is, and we can’t really do that if your hormone levels are constantly varying as a result of your very active, and I presume safe, sex life. I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, but if there’s any way for us to go ahead and try and fix your growth problems, you’ll have to bear with us and not stimulate yourself sexually for at least a week while the monitor collects information. And yes,” the man added when he saw Starry look at her own hands, “that includes masturbation I’m afraid.”

The vixen’s expression was one of such dejection and despair that one might be forgiven for thinking that she’d just been told she had a week to live, not seven days in which she couldn’t find a hot twenty-something to rock her bed with or spend a few hours locked in her bedroom with both hands firmly between her legs. Honestly, some part of her recognized that this was probably why she had gone from a perfectly regular, if more curvaceous than average vixen to one that was just over six feet tall and had a pair of tits and asscheeks wide enough that some narrower doors were already a hassle to navigate. Then again, she lived for that kind of stuff, adored indulging in the kind of rampant carnal enjoyment that came with not caring about what others might think about it; it as the very same reason why her choice in clothing had only gotten flimsier as time went on, deliberately covering less and less as she had more and more to cover up and preserve her decency with. After all, what was the point of having a chest or butt that ample if she didn’t flaunt it for the world to see? It felt like a genuine waste.

“A-Are you sure there’s no other way?” Starry asked, more desperate than really inquisitive, something clicking inside of her mind and telling her to lean forward so her chest-obscuring breasts squished almost obscenely heavily onto the table between herself and her doctor, “I mean, if you’d like to see what this body is like up close and personal, then I wouldn’t mind; get some good data, if you know what I mean~”

Starry didn’t know what possessed her to say something as stupid as that, but seeing as how the man in front of her reacted by moving his chair back and frowning at her, this could only mean her attempt at flirting didn’t work. It was a shame really; that avian was hung and could probably take her for a decent ride if he was up for it. Instead, he produced a small bracelet from one of his drawers and pushed it onto the table, giving Starry time to pick it up and examine it, only to come to the conclusion that, apart from it looking like a very fancy watch, she had no idea what it was supposed to do.

“It’s a hormone monitoring system,” the doctor helpfully chipped in, his voice slightly trembling after the blatant bout of teasing he was on the receiving end of, “we’ll need you to put that over one of your wrists, turn it on, and allow it to collect data for a full week. Remember: no sex, no masturbation, no stimulation of any kind that might get you aroused; do this, and we might just be able to garner enough information to help you fix your uncontrolled growth spurts… assuming the team can make sense out of the results, that is.”

He didn’t sound too confident that they would, but then again, Starry wasn’t really paying attention anymore, rather trying to come to terms with the unfortunate reality that she wouldn’t be able to get off for a full week, when going for a few hours without at least one of her hands gravitating towards her nethers was already cause for alarm and extreme nervousness. How exactly she was supposed to last for seven days was anyone’s guess, but seeing as the endocrinologist seemed to be more interesting in shooing her away rather than assuaging any of Starry’s doubts, the vixen decided it’d be best to slump back home and try her best not to completely lose it at the earliest convenience.

She managed about thirty minutes before catching herself absentmindedly rubbing one of her own exposed breasts, having taken up complete nudity while within her home, at which point she had to stop and seriously reconsider her approach to the whole process. She wouldn’t be able to last for the required time unless her routine underwent some serious changes and she deliberately tried to hold herself back at every second of every day; it would be painful, it would be arduous, but allowing her mind to wander could have catastrophic consequences, and not just for the week-long baseline study either. Who knew what indulging herself freely after a period of abstinence might do to her body, given that regular pleasure alone was often enough to add an inch or two to her curves or height whenever she really got off with someone she particularly enjoyed? Better that she take the time to control herself and constantly find herself in a state of annoyance and deprivation than risk having to redo her wardrobe (again) after her self-control failed her for the umpteenth time; and the first step towards ensuring that she’d be successful was to tap into that very same wardrobe and put some bloody clothes on. It was weird to walk around her house fully clothed for the first time in what felt like years, but it was either that or fail her allotted task, so Starry sucked it up, sighed away her irritation at the whole thing, and then tried to carry on with her day.

It went… about as well as it could, all things considered. The thought of pleasuring herself never really left her mind, but then again, the vixen didn’t do anything to boot it out; as far as she was concerned, remaining perfectly and acutely aware of just how horny she was at any given time was crucial for her continued efforts at denying herself, and as much as it pained her to ignore the burning need in her loins that only grew more intense and all-consuming throughout the day, she knew it had to be done. Sure, by dinnertime even the pots and pans were starting to look appetizing, but her willpower prevailed, allowing her to get all the way over to bedtime without once falling to her more base desires… only to then run right into the realization that she wouldn’t be able to control herself during the night.

She couldn’t help it, it was stronger than her; without her conscious mind there to help guide her actions away from self-ministrations and several fingers in a couple of good places, her body would undoubtedly run wild the moment it was allowed to do so. Thankfully, there were plenty of useful pieces of equipment she could put to use in just that situation, gear that had once been used during her more frisky encounters and now, quite poetically, would be her salvation when it came to abstinence and self-control; after all, padded cuffs made for a wonderful means of restraining herself, both legs spread wide apart and inviting any would-be lover to make good use of them once she clipped the restraints over her ankles and opposite sides of the bed’s frame, and with some wiggling and contorting, her hands were suitably hooked to the wooden struts behind her. This left her spread-eagled and in just the right position to have one of her many boytoys have their way with her, and now that her limbs were perfectly secure and ready to go a whole night without doing something she’d regret later, Starry could allow herself to fall asleep to the wonderful mental image of a room full of suitors all desperate to climb onto her while she grew to fill it all up from sheer arousal. Hopefully, by daybreak, she’d have enough strength left in her from a whole night of thrashing about to break the cuffs keeping her in place, or else her workplace would have a very awkward call at around eight in the morning.

Despite the intense arousal, the vixen managed to fall asleep easily enough, only to wake up seemingly right afterwards feeling as refreshed and restored as she possibly could given that her tits had ballooned to nearly triple their usual size, along with an equivalent boost in weight and pudge on her rear. It took a bit for Starry to process just what she was seeing, or rather, not seeing given that her bust was covering her field-of-view, but as soon as her brain booted back up properly and began understanding the world again, that’s when the vixen… sighed. It was all she could do, honestly; did she want to immediately go to work playing with those things until all the cream sloshing about inside erupted from her fist-nized nipples and coated her walls in white? Absolutely, but could she do that and get away with it? Not so much. This left her in the rather unenviable position of having to get back up, completely ignore the fact that growth of that degree wasn’t normal with her, as well as the fact that all of her clothes had magically adapted to her extra girth (and grown skimpier in the process as well, with her tube tops basically being strips of cloth at that point), then get ready for a day at work after figuring out how her car worked for the tenth time that week, blissfully ignorant of how reality itself was already beginning to fray at the edges over such a self-evident contradiction as her not pleasuring herself for a full twenty-four hours.

Still, nothing at work or otherwise seemed to imply that things were anything but normal. No one commented on the extra size, no one really complained about the fact that Starry couldn’t move without pushing something (or someone) out of way or the fact that her tits were leaking so heavily that sometimes she’d end up hip-checking someone onto puddle and they’d only stop once they were outside the café itself after skidding along for a whole minute on the flood of cream running everywhere. Starry herself was much too busy trying to keep herself together in order to care too much about what her body was becoming, how her head was noticeably closer to the ceiling and how her assets were still so disproportionate to her frame that it should have been a reason to go back to her doctor immediately to call off the week-long trial and try for something new. But, being as focused on self-restraint as she was, the vixen didn’t notice how everything around her was beginning to warp and change to better fit this new version of herself that she was creating through inaction, not even when the door she walked out of after her shift was over was both noticeably wider and taller than it had been when walked in through it several hours before; all that Starry cared about was getting home and hopefully not losing control completely on the way there.

Once safely within the privacy of her abode, it was down to sitting down on the couch and staring at her own cleavage while sinking her claws into the couch and trying not to think too hard about what she wanted to do. It was surprisingly easier than it had been the day before; the thoughts were still there, of course, but there was something about it that made it slightly more bearable than it had been initially. Perhaps it was the thought that a whole day went by and proved that she could do it, thus giving her some much-needed motivation while also proving the task wasn’t as impossible as she made it out to be, or maybe her brain’s chemistry had already been so wildly altered by the lack of stimulation that it was suddenly perfectly ok with a sexual death as long as it could fantasize about surviving an ordeal that it physically couldn’t. Whatever the case, Starry actually succeeded in getting up and doing some chores, even if cleaning anything became all-but impossible given the amount of milk she was leaking everywhere. Once back on her bed for the night, putting the cuffs back in was… well, impossible, given that her tits were too big for her to bend down and even reach her feet at all, leaving her to hope that her legs wouldn’t get too wild when she was under, while still taking care to restrain her hands; those ones she could not trust.

It should have been surprising when Starry woke up and suddenly felt her nipples brushing up against the ceiling, probably helped by an ass wide enough to spill over the side of the bed and smush itself against the milk-flooded floor, but it wasn’t; as far as the vixen was concerned, things were going perfectly normal for her, barring the fact that she had to keep her hands cuffed to her bed to keep from masturbing during the night whenever her mind wasn’t around to stop her from doing so. Sure, her room was completely waterlogged with her own cream and she couldn’t quite move without the ceiling groaning in distress, but as far as she was concerned, nothing was really out of the ordinary; just as long as she could use her milk to lubricate her exit, then getting out of her room would be as easy as collapsing the wall and getting through to the other side so she could burst through the apartment block’s façade and onto the street below. How exactly she was supposed to use a car didn’t strike the vixen as an important question, so much as why the slingshot bikini she wore as a uniform felt so tight around her. It was normally loose enough that not only did she barely feel that it was there, but it allowed for the maximum amount of bounciness that she could get away with without it seriously damaging her environs, yet today, for whatever reason, that thing just refused to budge entirely, leaving her feeling like it was practically glued onto her form rather than just loose enough to allow for movement.

No matter; she was going to be late for work if she kept trying to understand why her clothes acted the way she did, and it was already difficult for her to move as it was now that her tits were pushing heavily against the ceiling, so the vixen spent a good ten minutes trying to roll off to the side while occasionally sinking her hands into her own bust in order to stimulate some of its milk production, hopefully getting them flowing just enough to provide for the right amount of traction reduction that she could finally get herself moving. This came only after much effort on her part, leading to the wall separating her bedroom from the living room collapsing once her tits fell onto it, Starry herself groaning at the thought of having to call a company for repairs for… whatever time it was, she couldn’t quite remember it that early in the morning. Regardless, this wasn’t any good reason for her not to get ready for work, so she got up, bang her head against the ceiling like she usually did, and then just walked forwards until the building’s façade crumbled against the streets outside just as easily as her own bedroom wall had moments before; Starry figured that, if she already had to pay for repairs, she might as well go for broke and include a much sturdier frame around her whole apartment, given the sort of sizes she had to deal with on a daily basis. Or so she assumed, at least, things were surprisingly foggy and hard to focus on that day for whatever reason.

Now freely outside, the vixen at least got to stretch her limbs out properly, now free from the constrictive confines of her tiny home. It was hard, being a ten-foot-tall mini-giantess with tits big enough to smush against the ground and still be able to completely obscure her field-of-view, but she managed; at least being that tall allowed her to make very good time on heading to work, even if it did mean forcing several cars off the road or pushing parked vehicles against the buildings on either side of her street, a street that was surprisingly cramped all things considered. The vixen didn’t recall a time when she had both sides of her breasts squeezed so heavily against the apartment blocks around her, nor a time where moving took so much effort on her part that she could hear the sounds of metal scraping and glass shattering with each step she took, but everyone around her seemed perfectly fine with this, so clearly it must’ve happened previously; in fact, a few even offered to help, regardless of how little it would help, leading Starry to politely decline based on some misbegotten sense of decency. Besides, her workplace wasn’t too far away; just a few blocks of ruined building fronts and she was already next to the front door, wondering how exactly she was supposed to get in when her bust was big enough to fill most of the interior.

Did she usually break the front wall down? Goodness, of course she didn’t, how silly of her! The doors had compressors on them, that’s how she managed to get inside every day, how could she not have remembered this? Chuckling quietly at her own forgetfulness, Starry bent down and tried squeezing her way in, going through the familiar and yet still-slightly-unnerving process of seeing her body shrink in ways that defied perception and logic as it was forced through a spatial distortion field, only to emerge perfectly formed on the other side. As was usual, her appearance heralded a wave of cheers from everyone around her, as well as ample complaining from the ceiling now that both of her tits were pushing up against it. ‘Twas nothing short of a miracle that the whole place hadn’t collapsed already, and Starry remembered right at that exact moment how it was often a topic of discussion between herself and her similarly-sized (in height, at least) boss: that eventually, some day, the vixen was going to bring the whole house down in the most literal way possible unless the ceiling was extended or the compressor field was applied to the whole café, both things she was regularly informed the establishment didn’t have the money for.

Starry would like to call bullshit on that, but she wasn’t in the business of getting into arguments with people she cared about. Nonetheless, it was hard to believe that the café was running low on funds, or indeed was anywhere but swimming in cold hard cash, considering just what its business model was: there was always an endless line of people just waiting to be served some of the vixen’s milk, at times waiting in the rain or the sweltering heat for hours at a time just so they could sit down underneath one of her teats and allow the ensuing cream waterfall fill their stomachs and restore them back to full health and stamina; not to mention the presentation itself, what with having a gorgeously curvaceous vixen whose colossal mounds were only matched by her equally-gigantic ass, dressed only in a slingshot bikini and bouncing around like she wasn’t big enough to make the whole building tremble whenever she did so. Again, it was a wonder the whole place hadn’t already collapsed from the amount of damage she did to it without even trying, which is precisely why, when the vixen was duly distracted, reality readjusted itself to keep her going by granting her the very same wish she had just formulated, yet had assumed had always been there: compressing the whole dining room floor entirely.

It wasn’t the best of solutions, but it was a solution; at the very least, it allowed for the dimensions within the café itself to withstand her gigantic sizes and not completely fall apart in the process, plus it gave her plenty of room to walk around and be enormous in, providing enough space for some truly astounding feats of elasticity and agility coming from someone who should, by all means, be immobilized by her own size. Yet during all all this, there was always that one nagging voice, that little source of discomfort constantly reminding the vixen that she was missing out on something, that her routine had been thoroughly warped, that things weren’t normal… because she hadn’t gotten off in two whole days.

Starry couldn’t really care less about how her body had obviously become bigger and far more productive than it had been, to the point where her tits had very clearly bloated in between her waking up and now serving glasses of milk to glazed-eye customers, enough that she was having trouble moving them around, all while trying not to think too hard about how she wouldn’t be able to empty them out given the moratorium on personal stimulation. She couldn’t care less about how her asscheeks were each thickening as well, seemingly keeping pace with her bust regardless of how little sense that mad. She couldn’t care less about the fact that her body in general still seemed to be picking up in height and general size, apparently in an attempt to keep up with her burgeoning assets, yet still falling just short of maintaining her proportions, ensuring that she became ever more stacked and bottom-heavy as the day went on. She couldn’t care less about any of this… but she did care about the reason for it, even if she didn’t realize that it was a reason for anything at all.

It was easier than Starry assumed it would be, yes, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still immensely difficult to keep her focus at times. Occasionally, all the vixen wanted to do was stop and get frisky with herself in order to push the sexy thoughts away, and more than once she considered turning around and begging her boss to come meet her in the employee backroom so the two of them could have a private meeting and hash out their differences in the most direct way possible. Even when putting on a smile and doing her best to serve her customers, there was still a large part of the vixen’s mind who was focused entirely on trying to find the nearest phallic object that she could shove into herself, fantasizing about how great it would be if only there was a customer big enough to service a body like hers, all while the rest of her conscious thought process dug itself in to withstand the endless onslaught of horny thoughts and sheer arousal that threatened to wash over her and command her body to do what had to be done. In a way, it was her wild side that was more or less in the right, for once; Starry not climaxing at least thrice a day was apparently the only thing keeping her body from not only going completely wild with itself, but also maintaining some semblance of normality in the bubble of reality around her, a bubble that only grew wider as time went on and the vixen refused to indulge in what was her right by virtue of simply existing. Surely, at some point, someone would’ve noticed that Starry hadn’t always been that big, someone would’ve made a comment about it and someone would’ve tried to bring it to someone else’s attention… but no one did. Every customer that came into the café that day seemed perfectly okay with the fact that their favorite vixen towered over everyone and made short work of any table or chair that she didn’t happen to see in time, and judging by the way her co-workers responded to this, then they were surely just as used to the whole thing as Starry herself felt she was. It was normal, after all; why bother concerning themselves with something if it was as it always had been?

Still, the day managed to end without the giantess throwing herself at any of the customers in a way that would ensure a lawsuit happened, even if she was very much thinking about it by the time her shift was ending, and even found the time to eye a few of the more attractive-looking young men that were brave enough to make a few passing comments towards her. They always figured themselves strong enough to be able to take her, not knowing that they were setting themselves up to being ridden dry and practically crushed beneath an insatiable amazon that would not stop until she, too, was completely empty and devoid of stamina. But that was for another day, a week from then after she was done with the hormone study, after she could look down at her wrist and not have to see that blasted monitor ticking and beeping away whenever it analyzed a sample it drew without her noticing it. It was hellish, especially once she was finally free from her duties, back outside, and with a final stretching of her tired limbs her body could let go after a full day’s work and “readjust” to meet expectations, prompting a growth spurt powerful enough to not only leave the vixen as tall as the buildings around her… but stuck as well.

Her bust hadn’t really grown alongside the rest of her so much as it had filled, as it no longer had to contend with a compression field holding it back. Unfortunately, this took place in the middle of a busy road, thus leading Starry to having her bloating tits not only push against the buildings on either side with even greater force than before, but having them spill over the roof of the very same structures, all while both of the milk factories leaked profusely enough to clog up the storm drains; behind her, the vixen’s butt had gone much the same route as well, making sure that not only could she not move forward adequately, but couldn’t back off into the large park down the road either, leaving her well and truly stuck… and sighing at the annoyance of it happening again, her brain’s defenses holding up against the looming realization that things were not normal. As far as she was concerned, this was a regular occurrence, which only made her curse her decision to go fully nude even more than before; surely, if she had been responsible and brought her compression pasties and thong, then this wouldn’t have happened! Instead, she decided to take a day without any clothes and now couldn’t move anymore, just great; serves her right for being experimental.

With a sigh, Starry tried her best to try and move forward, not even thinking about how exactly she was going to fit back into her apartment now that a single one of her tits was big enough to completely smother the whole building; it just didn’t strike her as an important question, or indeed a question at all, because obviously the compressor field was there and waiting for her to crawl inside after a few maneuvers to push herself through the sliding panel that made up the road-facing wall of her home. And indeed, once she got there, what she found wasn’t the wrecked façade she’d left earlier that morning, but a fully-rebuilt and ready-to-use apartment home waiting for her to step inside and make good use of the stupendously overpriced compression technology that she inexplicably managed to afford. And, after a whole day of holding back her base desires and trying her best not to succumb to the allure of her own arousal to end up doing something she’d regret immediately, the vixen decided to just fix a sandwich up for herself, finding the whole “sideways cooking” thing surprisingly harder than it should be for someone who should be used to it, before immediately heading to bed and locking her hands in place for the night… not that she needed to, all things considered.

Why was she doing it? Her thighs and ass were big enough that they were already rubbing against one another all the time, plus they were of such a size that spreading them open wouldn’t really do much. And with a bust of that size attached to her chest, she couldn’t even reach her nethers without some complicated gymnastics, so there really wasn’t any way that her unconscious, sleeping self would be able to ruin the week-long abstinence binge. Besides, she could hear her tits start to produce more milk, bulging out a couple of inches already, so why bother cuffing herself to the bed?

She’d be buried come morning.