Rise and Shine - Part 5 (Birfday Gift for Skeezard)

TAGS: NUTS!, Macro, Growth, Compressors

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It had been a few weeks ever since the unfortunate incident where things got taken slightly too far, and life couldn’t be better for JT. It was one thing to carry around a pair of nuts big enough that he could barely even walk without having to waddle, along with a cock that got in the way so much that he couldn’t help but giggle and feel constantly giddy because of it; it was another thing altogether for that to happen when he knew for a fact that he had about fifty compressor layers stacked on top of one another at the same time.

It was absolute madness, and yet that was his life now. The growth substance had played merry hell with his body even past the point where he began to overrun entire countries, and despite everyone’s best efforts to keep him contained and away from destroying large population centers, there wasn’t a lot anyone could really do when he was still growing at a rate so absurd that even companies dedicated purely to handling macro-level hypers were having a hard time trying to come up with solutions. It took the combined efforts of pretty much everyone in the industry to even so much as get JT back down to a size that could fit inside a neighborhood, and from there it was nothing but desperate improvisation as everyone worked against the clock to beat back the inexorable advance of what were, most likely, planet-sized nuts by that point. All of this while JT himself basked in the glory of his own size, occasionally stopping to notice just how tight everything felt. As far as he cared, he’d already won, and everything the technicians did to try and reduce his colossal girth was nothing but a prelude to whatever his next growth spurt would be; little did he know that there wouldn’t be a “spurt” per se, more so a gradual increase that only got more intense over time.

A week prior to him waking up that morning, he had about twenty layers on him, stacked multiplicatively in order to provide the best possible compressor effect. Even then, he was still huge, big enough that he couldn’t help but bump into doorways when he wasn’t paying attention, kept almost permanently at full mast from the sheer arousal of it all. It was a wonderful existence, and one that only got worse (better?) over time, because even that absurd factor of compression wasn’t enough to keep him down; his junk kept growing, burgeoning outwards at a worrying pace, until the system keeping him in check began to send out warning signals to at least a dozen different places, all of which sent another wave of techies to slap another ten or so layers onto him to bring JT back to a size that wasn’t an errant thought away from bloating all over half the planet. And yet this still wasn’t enough; over the course of the past week, things just got progressively larger, until finally the companies involved in providing the compression layers more or less gave up entirely and resigned themselves to the reality that, whether or not they liked it, JT’s size was unstoppable. As he stretched his arms and legs and got up from bed, he was greeted by a by-now familiar sight: that of his nuts, each big enough to occupy about half the space from the floor to the ceiling, looming over him, along with a shaft that begged to be set free from the confines of its restrictive clothing. Even in his semi-dazed state, JT knew better than to acquiesce its demands; he quite liked having a roof over his head, and letting that beast free would run counter to keeping that luxury. Some day, he’d have enough clout to let loose and not have to worry about the consequences of doing so, but for now, it was best not to go completely insane. Besides, he still had to carry with him a pair of balls so ludicrously inflated that he was lucky he didn’t leave grooves on the floor whenever he moved; thankfully for him, he’d been moved to a larger place that was specially built for “edge cases” like himself, one that he proceeded to prove was incredibly inadequate and utterly lacking in the sort of scale he operated at. It wasn’t anyone’s fault really, but he still found it adorable how people around him seemed to think they could “contain” him or convince him to stop growing so much, even after the fifty layers only managed to bring him to the upper end of what hypers usually grew to. It wasn’t in his hands anymore; they should know this.

The same substance that started it all was still going strong inside of him, still pushing his body to do things it really wasn’t meant to do. It multiplied exponentially as it irritated his cum factories to produce more than should be possible, turning into more of itself and then feeding this excedent back into the same system that kept adding mass like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. If he ever let loose, well and truly let go of the limitations keeping him in check, there was no doubt in his mind that he could outgrow the whole planet in a matter of minutes, if not less; hell, if he had to be perfectly honest with himself, it was quite likely he was already bigger than his homeworld, and the moment he turned the compressors off there just wouldn’t be a homeworld anymore. This, above all else, was why he still held back, as he had no intention of actually harming anyone, much less destroying the planet he was on; spilling over whole continents was already bad enough, requiring emergency teleportation on a scale never before seen, he didn’t need to put planetary evacuation on everyone’s mind when he knew for a fact that, well… there really wouldn’t be a lot of places the evacuees could go once he truly got started. Truth be told, he was in quite the pickle, because no matter how much he tried to hold back, his reality was quite a simple one: the moment he stopped limiting himself, there was nowhere to go but outwards, in every direction, forever.

It was an odd thing to know, especially when he himself was actually quite on the shorter side, to know for certain that within him lay the potential to effectively smother the entirety of existence without even trying. Sure, it needed the help of some weird kind of growth goop and probably wouldn’t have been so bad if he weren’t such a self-indulgent size slut, but who was he to deny himself his true nature? He liked being big, and though the circumstances in which this growth took place weren’t exactly the most sober ones, he couldn’t deny he quite enjoyed them regardless; after all, the only thing he had to do was look backwards and he’d see a pair of nuts several times bigger than he was, a pair that he could throw himself onto and lounge on like a colossal, wobbly, sloshing, churning bed that almost deafened him whenever he made the mistake of squeezing any part of it. This was the dream, the life, and it just so happened to be difficult to reconcile with… everything else really. He had no intention of outgrowing reality, it was just something that happened, totally not because of his own actions and desires that led him down a path that could only end in one way, no sir; as far as he chose to remember it, ‘twas nothing but circumstance that landed him where he was at that moment, and as such he could continue to revel in the fantasy that he was merely a pawn in a growth game controlled by none but the gods… well, none but the gods and himself; he just chose not to go crazy and unleash his full size, which really just brought him full circle.

He wanted to grow. He wanted to feel what it was like to have the entirety of existence vanish underneath him, for him to absorb everything that was, is and would be, potentially ascending to become something of a deity himself. He wanted to know what it was like to be so utterly dwarfed by those things he was lying on that he couldn’t even begin to imagine their full size without his mind imploding, wanted to experience, firsthand, the results of his own growthlust in a way that couldn’t ever be forgotten. But he couldn’t, not without causing a great deal of destruction and injury to those around him, maybe even permanent destruction and injury… thus the conundrum. He wanted to splurge out, yes, but not if that meant hurting anyone; the problem was that he really couldn’t envision a reality in which this was possible, and suddenly this was all he could ever think about.

As this went on, and JT tried to come to terms with the sort of body he now had, said body didn’t exactly feel like letting him off the hook any more than it had already, which is to say it kept on bloating regardless of how much of an inconvenience it happened to be. The growth gel inside of his nuts was still there after all, still multiplying upon itself and creating countless tons of itself every femtosecond, making it somewhat difficult for him to ignore the mounting pressure that lapped at the back of his consciousness whenever he wasn’t actively ignoring and-or putting it down. That his compressors were effectively on the route to total and complete failure was also a source of stress, especially given how no one seemed to be answering his calls anymore; it used to be he could have a whole team of techies at his house within ten minutes of him picking up the phone, but now every time he tried to reach anyone that could even remotely begin to help, all he got were either long waiting queues or an interminable line of people who refused to take responsibility and kept ping-ponging the call between one another until JT grew tired and hung up, a strategy he could only assume was very much deliberate. He couldn’t imagine why they’d do such a thing; after all, they too shared a planet with him, so if multiple layers of compression failed catastrophically enough, they’d be straight in the line of fire as well. Maybe they had given up entirely and welcomed this new reality, though why that would ever be was out of JT’s ability to conceive a reason for.

This, unfortunately, left him to deal with his problem all by himself. It wasn’t as if he was unable to do it, but it did put a hamper on his enjoyment of the whole situation; if everyone else kept going with their frantic attempts at keeping him contained, then maybe he could’ve ridden the high throughout the whole thing without a care in the world, literally lounging about on his own nuts as his every need was tended to. Now though, he had to actually think about what he’d do with his life going forward, and while every possible solution was absolutely glorious in terms of what it would do to him, even that minor amount of work left a somewhat sour taste in his mouth… mostly because so much of it was out of his hands now. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d have to cut loose at some point, either willingly or after the first of his fifty compressors broke down and kickstarted a chain reaction, so all he could do was get himself to somewhere he could minimize damage to pretty much everyone else… or, perhaps, move everyone else so they wouldn’t be in the path of destruction. That realization hit him with such radiant brilliance that he had to slap himself for having somehow missed it before; how could he have forgotten about the very thing that had saved everyone from his previous growthsplosion?

It was settled then. If the planet-wide underground bunkers could help service everyone when he had his “little” continent-wide incident, then they’d just have to be used again for when he went through his final growth spurt. Besides, if he was picturing it correctly in his head, the planet’s curvature would mean that not that much more land would be taken up by his nuts before they just splurged out into space, at least if he did his math right (which he probably didn’t); in fact, several million people wouldn’t even have to deal with his package at all, safe and sound far away from in front of him. All he had to do was make sure he aimed himself properly and gave everyone advance warning before shutting off his compressors so that the planet’s population would be safe, provided they had a few days to deal with the evacuation and teleportation of supplies; as far as he remembered, the bunker system was pretty much self-sustaining, so it shouldn’t be too much of a worry for anyone involved. Now, getting anyone to answer the phone was a chore in and of itself, but as soon as he started issuing threats and reminding people of just what he was capable of, then they started paying attention again; it was almost funny how quickly the apathy and lack of interest turned into outright panic and dread, with an unending cavalcade of high-levels executives and political officials outright begging him to reconsider, to just hold himself back until they could come up with a better solution, which they assured him would happen any day now if he was just a little bit more patient. JT quite enjoyed toying with them, knowing full well he held all the cards and had them pinned against the wall; it made for some truly great entertainment, especially once he decided to start replying to their pleas by stuffing his phone against one of his nuts and just letting the rumbling speak for itself, nearly blowing out the speakers on both ends in the process. In the end, it was clear to everyone involved that there would be no dissuading JT from his chosen course of action… but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t keep trying.

Thus began the last ditch attempts at getting him to stop and turn back around, while simultaneously evacuation efforts began worldwide, emergency systems being activated every other minute to transport both large populations and the means for food production into the vast, labyrinthine underground complexes built just in case of an edge-case macro hyper meltdown like the one JT was planning on triggering. The companies involved in its creation kept trying to stop him, sending over dozens, hundreds of representatives and techies whose job it was to guarantee that they would continue to provide continuous support, that they were well and truly sorry for having dropped him before, and that they’d do everything in their power to make sure things were better from that point forward. Without fail, JT listened to their well-practiced speeches, nodding along and even sometimes providing an “Hmm” or a “Huh-huh”, before promptly shutting them down at the first opportunity he had, happily reminding them that if they truly wanted to help him, they would’ve done so before the ultimatum. Again, it was far more about lording his own size over reality than it was about proving anyone wrong; the latter was merely a corollary to the former, and something that had to happen whether he liked it or not, so he might as well derive some enjoyment from it. Day after day, the parade of supplicants grew thinner and thinner, until it was naught but a trickle composed of only the most desperate or the most hopeful, sometimes both; even those would eventually come to understand that their attempts at dissuading their once-biggest client were nothing if not utterly pointless, and one by one left their homes to join the increasingly large number of people taking refuge below the ground.

JT would find himself alone a couple of weeks after he first delivered his proclamation. He could still walk, though just barely, and food deliveries to his house had finally stopped once the last few remaining brave ones fled to the bunker system. He knew for a fact that he was completely alone in his city of residence, and by that point, probably in the entire country (at least above ground); it left him feeling oddly empowered rather than alone, truly like a god of sorts who had just been granted the whole planet to rule over. He thought about making it a special occasion, maybe even going so far as to make one final declaration before the whole world, but ultimately decided against it… mostly because he could sense the compressor layers straining at the seams and figured he only had a day, at best, before it was all over. He thus spent his final hours as a still-mobile entity making his ascension as comfortable as possible, ensuring that he was aimed in just the right way to avoid as much landmass as possible, creating a pillow fort beneath him so he could at least be squished by his own nuts with some measure of softness behind him, and then… then he waited.

He figured it’d be best not to force things. He figured it’d be best to let it all happen naturally, to allow his body to break through the barriers imposed on it in a natural way; thus, he grabbed a book, found a comfortable position to sit down in, and then waited. He waited until he was reading the same page for the fiftieth time, holding out for the first sign that his body might be rumbling and churning any louder. He waited until he heard the beeping of his compressor gear, telling him that it was about to fail. He waited until he heard something snap, deep in the dimensional layers holding him back.

And then he didn’t need to wait any longer.