Relaxing Retreat - Part 4 (Commission for Hyacinth)

TAGS: M/F, Hyper, Macro, Growth/Inflation, Milk/Lactation

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It had been a few days ever since the two swans made their way to the beach, and in that short time, every had to be changed just to accommodate Iris' size, not to mention her incessant need to grow even bigger than she was already. It was almost impressive how easily she mobilized every resource at her disposal just to feed into her newfound growthlust, even more so given how her body was out by the coast, making it slightly more difficult than it should be for her to deal with it adequately, even when it came to fulfilling her wishes. It was one thing for her to be on solid land, another for there to be a sudden need for ships in order to make sure her breasts weren’t getting stuck on anything below the water, and to ensure she didn’t leak a single droplet of her churning cream. How exactly she managed to go that long with lactating the slightest bit was anyone’s guess, but no one was about to start asking questions or second-guessing her decisions when they had her desires to deal with.

Truth be told, Iris could very well just get up and walk away any second she wanted; it just so happened, however, that the swan quite enjoyed being where she was, stuck there with her tits floating in the water and the salty sea breeze filling her nostrils, enjoying the warm glare of the sun and basking in the glow of the bonfires set up for her during the night, all while her mate Tempest, somewhere in the distance between those colossal mounds, squirmed away for days on end, no longer caring about whether or not he had to eat or drink, seemingly full and drunk off of his partner’s presence alone… or perhaps it was the fact that she was effectively eating for the two of them, the larger swan’s appetite having grown ravenous over the past few days, not-so-coincidentally right after she accepted her fate as a proto-goddess of milk and bountifulness, “condemned” to grow forever and never once lose an inch. Of course, this didn’t mean that she was just going to sit there and wait for things to happen; divine or not, her current state was entirely the result of her having overdosed on hormone and milk supplements, sending her body into an overdrive that it literally could not recover from, and if that much was the case, then why not make sure she kept overdosing on those same chemicals? Plate upon plate of food was served to her, not because she wanted to eat or happened to be hungry, but because she demanded more milkiness in her, and what better way to put two pleasures together than to lace every meal she ate with enough lactation supplements to serve an entire dairy farm for a whole year? Some might find it excessive, and indeed the taste was completely ruined by the ridiculous amount of powdered pills included in each mouthful, but as soon as the substance was processed into Iris’ body and everyone heard those colossal milk factories churning even louder than before, then they all knew it was more than worth it, especially when they got to witness the exact moment those blimped out even harder!

There was hardly any beach left by the week’s end, and even then the only reason the seaside buildings weren’t being toppled down was precisely because those colossal milk makers were out at sea rather than turned the other way around… and yet, despite this, their curvature and fullness was such that some parts of them were already spilling onto the elevated promenade just behind where Iris lay on a comfortable chaise longue built just for her, some of the traffic being forced to divert to the side whenever those gigantic tits happened to rumble particularly harshly; not that there was much traffic to begin with, given that most of the road itself was blocked by all the discarded vehicles left behind by the crowd of helpers and attendants helping to keep both swans as comfortable and cared-for as possible, be it by bathing them, providing food when needed, and occasionally fishing the smaller one of the couple from within the cavernous cleavage he was in just so they could make sure he still hadn’t dehydrated despite not having had a drop of water in several days. This group only grew bigger and more well-organized as time went on, given the ever-increasing bustline they had to take care of, and the ever-escalating demands of the swan it was attached to; no matter how hard they worked, Iris always found some way to demand more out of her “servants”, enough that some of them began to wonder just why they were even bothering… right before a crowd of loyal helpers stuffed them into the avian’s cleavage for a couple of hours so they could get their heads straight. All the while, gorging herself on supplement-laced food, tainted drinks and, at times, outright taking entire packets at once, Iris herself was having the time of her life, unashamedly indulging herself in the kind of manic, impossible excess that, just a few months prior, would’ve seemed entirely out of the realm of possibility. Now though? Now she just wanted more.

The beach had already been consumed, and a significant portion of the seabed next to the coastline was dug out by the sheer weight of her massive mammaries, not to mention having tons of sand dug out by the force of their constant growth spurts, with most of her attendants thus being forced to work either on top of those things on take their chances on the ground; a few elite volunteers tended to Iris directly, making sure that the small space that she had for herself, buried underneath literal hundreds of tons of flesh and milk, was kept open and as stable as possible. Metal struts pushed her bust away for a few feet in every direction, giving her some room to stretch her legs and arms, and for her personal chefs to deliver the endless supply of meals and snacks that she demanded be served to her at every waking moment; it also made for a perfect little spot for more intimate moments, in those vanishingly rare occasions where Tempest actually thought to wriggle out of the embrace of his lover’s breasts and came down to hug her actual body, maybe even exchange a few kisses before diving back into the impossibly warm and tight confines of the swan’s cleavage for another day or so. And, just like that, the hours passed one after the other, Iris’ breasts bloating and filling to an impossible degree with each second that ticked away, carving out a larger and deeper hole on the sandy beach and beneath the waves, until the very water of the ocean itself began to be displaced, forced around the colossal spheres and scaling up the bits of the shoreline that hadn’t yet been consumed by that swelling bust… yet. Because it was only a matter of time until they were, only a matter of time until everything was overtaken, given that the big swan no longer cared for much of anything but growing and filling for the rest of her days, to create a more and more perfect playground for her perfect mate, her beautiful Tempest, the very reason why she had even started growing to begin.

It was hard to believe that all of this had started just because she wanted to surprise him during their outing to the mountain retreat, just a little something extra to celebrate their time together; at the time it felt innocent enough, and so simple to fix that she never bothered to think what it would be like to just… keep going. It was only after becoming acutely aware of how good it felt that Iris’ mind slowly drifted away and away from what she considered to be “normal” and began dipping into the excessive, one inch at a time, until she was no longer the same bird that barely fit in a shower, no longer the same one that barely fit in a house, and certainly not the same one that filled a whole stretch of the beach. Now she was Iris, a goddess in the making, each of her immense tits big enough to take over not just the whole beach by itself, but part of the road behind it, smushing against the nearest buildings, all the while carving out a deeper and deeper gorge in the ocean in front of her as the waves crashed ineffectually against it in the distance. And, just to top it all off, she was also Iris, the swan whose already sun-blotting tits were still growing and becoming more productive, only adding to the overall lunacy that was her insane growthsplosion. Of course, none of this was even remotely enough; where others might proclaim things to be too much, maybe even crossing some sort of line, the swan knew better. She knew that it was just the beginning, and her only job, her only purpose was to make sure it kept going forever and ever, more quickly, harder, more productive, more, more, more!

Soon she would be demanding that her many servants move her from her pocket and into the open, giving her just enough space to appreciate how her bust had begun to gently bend many of the structures closest to the coat, with a few buildings already having been invaded by her milky pudge after it broke through a panoramic window or two. There was no panic though, but a sense of calmness and content that permeated the now-thousands of people that had gathered to help the swan achieve her dream goals, all of them working to keep her as comfortable and ready to bwoompf outwards as possible. In all fairness, life right next to the swan herself was actually quite cozy; just as long as people remembered that her chest was constantly expanding, it was easy enough to get most of everything done without having to worry too much about the constantly-encroaching wall of breasflesh in front of them, especially after Iris was given a lounge chair with wheels on it, allowing her body to push itself backwards as much as possible without needing anyone to come help her to her feet. Only those working directly on her breasts had to be worried for their safety, and of those, none worked the hardest but the select few entrusted with her nipples.

The greatest mystery surrounding the swan was how exactly she managed to keep herself completely dry even when her tits were so unbelievably stuffed that they should be pouring with two rivers of milk so powerful as to shame the Amazon and Nile put together. Rather than any such deluge of cream, however, not a single drop was allowed out, leaving those teats in a state that could only be described as critical; while Iris herself may choose not to allow any of her productivity to escape her milk factories, that didn’t mean said factories didn’t react like she was allowing for some of their creamy goodness to be vented out, and since it wasn’t, that meant her nips were kept perpetually engorged, constantly ready to blow, and yet lacked any of the fluid contents needed to be kept in such a state safely. Over the course of her growth journey, her buds had become swollen, puffy mounds, each one bigger than a whole building and desperate for any sort of flow to help lubricate them, inflamed beyond belief and yet still one of the main sources of pleasure for the swan, whose only regret was that she couldn’t openly play with them at every single waking hour. Even Tempest didn’t dare get close to them, knowing how dangerous it would be if he stimulated them too much, but someone still had to; someone had to undergo the perilous journey over the top of Iris’ swelling mounds and over to where the nipples were, to join the teams of volunteers working nonstop, twenty four over twenty four hours, to keep those colossal buds hydrated and clean, especially given the salt in the air constantly worked against them in their endeavours. Who knew what might happen if they allowed those things to dry out completely… and they meant so literally: who knew?

No one there had any clue how anything about Iris worked, nor how the swan’s body was even functional after both her tits crossed the two-mile-wide mark and yet kept going as if they hadn’t just accomplished something impossible and downright ridiculously insane. All they knew was that, regardless of how much it shouldn’t be happening, it was; just about the only people with minimal understanding of why this was were the ones personally tending to Iris herself, the ones arranging for drinks and foodstuffs laced with dangerous quantities of supplements, while the troupes and squads of washers and massagers and who knew what else had to make do with rumours and speculation that ran rampant and unchecked. To some, the swan was a budding goddess, ascending towards the heavens one yard at a time, to others a freak of nature that the government should step in and do something about, lest she overtake the whole city, and then the whole country; a few even believed that she was due to “pop” thanks to all of the noises coming from inside of her, despite the fact that her skin remained as velvety smooth and pliable as ever before, even when it should’ve been stretched past the breaking point days prior. Only Iris knew the truth: that all of this was nothing more than an exercise in self-indulgence, both for herself and her mate, and that as long as both of them were happy and content, she would just keep growing, filling and bloating for as long as she possibly could. To be fair to her, the swan never thought becoming this massive was a possibility; even her initial experiment left her flabbergasted in her more private moments, and it only ever got worse from there. But now that she looked at herself and saw what became of her bust, now that she got to lie down on a comfortable lounge chair and literally do nothing but watch her tits get bigger every day, she couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of pride at everything she’d accomplished, even if it was through naught but greed and mindless, carnal recklessness.

It was even better for the smaller swan, who hadn’t surfaced in days by the time that his mate broke the three-mile line, constantly awake, never hungry, never thirsty, never tired, always willing to wriggle around and squirm in the immense vastness of Iris’ cleavage. Not that he didn’t take occasional naps; while the presence of his better half was enough to keep him fueled far past the point where his body should’ve collapsed from exhaustion, sometimes it just felt nice to stop and cuddle up in some unfathomably tiny portion of that immense gorge in between both of Iris’ tits. That way he could close his eyes and be rocked into a renewing, regenerative sleep both by the warmth and softness of those two colossal pillows, and the churning of endless currents of thick cream inside of them, far more powerful than any ocean storm, yet oddly relaxing given that he knew they were safely kept inside Iris’ breasts. As for the bigger swan herself, she occasionally closed her own eyes in an attempt to locate where her mate was, smiling to herself whenever he stopped to rest, lost in the literal miles of cleavage he had to work with, no longer capable of returning to her without a guide of sorts… a guide who more often than not was drawn from the long, long line of people waiting next to the top section of the cleavage, one trailing all the way from the nipples on one end to solid ground on the other, indicating a safe path across Iris’ curves and providing a safe anchor point for anyone wanting to descend into the damp, dark space between the swan’s tits in order to locate Tempest and, once more, make sure he was still alright after days of radio silence.

And still she grew. Still Iris continued to burgeon outwards and pick up the pace in terms of production, only really kept from overrunning the whole city thanks to spherical geometry and her own biology working against her; she was already eating as much as she physically could without feeling ill or too stuffed over it, and it wasn’t as if she could just open a hole into her tits and start forcing growth juice into them. Not to mention her nipples were so far off at sea and so high up into the air that no ship would be able to service them, not when one considered the fact that her bust was still growing at a rate fast enough to displace the ocean’s waters around it with enough strength to make it unnavigable, at least if the ship’s captain was anything other than completely mad. Thus, Iris had to make do with what she could swallow, and if it wasn’t a sumptuous feast filled with delicious lactation boosters and hormonal supplements, it was a nice, refreshing drink laced with exactly the same, keeping her on a perpetual state of acceleration that very quickly threatened to destroy the entire coastline she was resting by. By the four mile mark, the swan had been pushed back so much that she wasn’t even near the street to begin with, and indeed most of the buildings that had once stood next to the sea had been reduced to rumble beneath her curves, leaving her to make her home somewhere about two blocks away from where she initially received her chaise longue a few days prior; though to her, this really didn’t mean anything, as regardless of where she was or how many ruins surrounded her, or how many people tried to convince her to stop before things grew out of control, all she really cared about, all she could bring herself to care about, were Tempest and her own tits, in that order. Just as long as her mate was kept happy and her bust was kept growing and filling ever faster, then she was happy; and just as long as no one stopped her or tried to make her slow down, then she couldn’t really care less about what anyone thought of her life choices. She was there, she was growing, and they’d just have to get used to it, ruined apartment blocks and crashing economy from lack of essential workers be damned.

Not that this would last for much longer, because who could ever resist the allure of her body? Certainly not the thousands of people that already called it their home, and absolutely not the many others who showed up to complain only to immediately realize why it was that so many of their friends and family had vanished from sight only to reappear on the news as Facelless Goon #2172 amidst the countless amount of people serving her every whim. How could they resist it, when to gaze upon those immense mammaries was to look upon the face of perfection itself? Could they resist the call of Heaven, a swan song that would never end? They’d sooner stop breathing, and thus they joined the growing crowd, eager and happy to serve Iris to the best of her ability.

This left the bird with a sense of superiority that, frankly, was nothing short of earned. It wasn’t as if she considered her girls to be more important than they really were, because they had, after all, completely taken over most of her home city’s population when the only reason they existed was for Tempest’s own amusement. It was so funny to watch them all scramble to try and justify their decision to abandon their former lives and join up with her, when really all they had to do was shut up and enjoy themselves, just like she did. But… it still wasn’t enough.

Each of her tits was easily six miles wide already, gurgling and churning with billions upon billions of gallons of untapped milk, and yet she still felt hungry for more. Iris could tell that Tempest was rearing to go, and her own body seemed primed to keep going, but there was something missing, something unique that would take her from merely gigantic and cityscape-dominating to truly gigantic, big enough to loom over everything that she’d ever known. And, given that no one seemed to be willing to stop her, what reason did she have not to try it out? It was her bust, her life, and now, for the first time ever, she could finally cut loose.

And actually try to grow.