mavortheturnip
patreon
Come True - Part 1 (Patreon Commission+ for Joducus)
🕑 Added 2022-06-20 17:25:16 +0000 UTCTAGS: Growth/Expansion, Hyper/Hyper Growth, Voluptuous/Hyper Curvaceous
---===---
It wasn’t the first time Ashley caught him playing that game, but it was the first she did anything other than pretend she didn’t see it. The disappointed sigh wasn’t the worst part; no, that came when the young woman sat beside him and made a genuine effort at trying to understand why he was playing the game in the first place, which somehow made it so much more awkward than a straight-up scolding could ever be.
“I honestly don’t get it. Like, why are you even playing this?” she eventually asked, having powered through her own patience and sense of decency, “I mean, I get the tits are huge, but like, they aren’t real, you can’t even touch them. Is it about the dating thing? ‘Cuz we can go back to doing silly shit if you wanna feel like we’re back there again, I really don’t mind.”
There was literally no way he could answer that question without somehow digging himself in deeper, so Jeremy decided to just say nothing, looking away with a visible blush on his cheeks, hoping this would be enough. Ashley seemed to think so, mercifully enough; though the look on her face was nothing if not illustrative, she still did get up and leave for the bathroom, mumbling something about having to take a bath. Even if he only ended up mumbling it, Jeremy did manage to get a “Don’t you with that was you?” out, dreadfully terrified that Ashley might’ve actually heard it.
Jeremy couldn’t help it. As much as he knew he shouldn’t be having those thoughts, much less towards the one woman in his life that he loved above everyone else, he was still a human being with sexual urges, and as a result, he was no more capable of ignoring his mind than he was able to stop breathing. He liked big tits, luscious rumps and thick thighs, and there wasn’t a damned thing on that planet that would make that not true… and while Ashley was certainly not unblessed in those departments, there was always a certain allure to fantasy that kept drawing him in.
He knew those sizes were unrealistic, at least without extensive cosmetic surgery and a great deal of bodily self-modification, the exclusive purview of sense freaks with enough money to spend that they could give themselves tits to compare to the ones of his usual fare. But that was the whole point: by being unrealistically proportioned, the woman in his dating games became more enticing, as if the very excess itself made them far more attractive than they were already drawn to be. It was the knowing that they represented something he could never have, a fantastical ideal that could never truly be reached or achieved.
Jeremy sighed. He could sit there and rationalise his wank material for as long as he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was still playing those games so he could get to those scenes and have extra goods for his spank bank; crude, but not untrue, and the young man couldn’t really claim that it was anything else. I mean really, the last time one of those games had a decent plot had been so long ago that he genuinely didn’t even know whether he hadn’t made the whole thing up out of scattered fragments of other, better-written games, or if he’d been lucky enough to stumble on the one good example of porn with plot.
Regardless, he wasn’t going to get back in the mood after what happened with Ashley, so he turned his computer off and slunk off to bed, figuring that he could think about stuff properly in the morning. Exhausted from a day’s work, he was fast asleep when his wife let loose a loud yelp, powering through it like a solid piece of stone; if it had been anything important, Ashley would very much have been left in the bathroom without assistance, so thoroughly had Jeremy collapsed onto his pillow.
Thankfully, it wasn’t anything life-threatening… she presumed. It certainly wasn’t normal, nor was it in any way something that should happen, but she seemed fine enough, or at least stable and unlikely to have a stroke or a heart attack and just keel over. No, what got her to react loudly enough that the next door neighbours heard was when she leaned down in the shower to grab her shampoo, and suddenly felt two large weights tugging at her back.
Now, she’d never been flat, but at no point in her life had she needed to worry about her back hurting. She was average, just… regular. Straight in the middle of the bell curve, with nothing exceptional to speak of. Definitely not big enough that leaning forward caused her to lose her balance and nearly splat all over the shower floor, and absolutely not big enough that, when she straightened her back and looked down, she couldn’t see the rest of her body below the two mounds she had attached to herself.
She stood there, staring at herself in silence, the only sound to break it being the rush of water on her skin. Ashley’s hands slowly gravitated towards her bust, almost literally so; in a way, it having all that extra mass did attract them, causing her fingers to find the nearest patch of soft skin to bury themselves in, sending signals shooting up her spine and directly into her brain’s pleasure centers. Her eyelids fluttering close, it was all she could do to avoid letting a moan out… and one loud enough to wake up the whole building for good measure.
They were sensitive, enough that a mere touch was enough to set her off, enough that she couldn’t bear to do anything more, yet did so anyway; two hands, two palms, two handfuls of tit that she now had, two hands that weren’t enough to cover everything she suddenly developed on her chest. This alone was enough to bring her back to reality: the fact that she wasn’t just big, she was getting bigger, and was doing so actively through her own efforts.
It was hard to tell at first, but became obvious the moment she forced her hands back to take a better look at herself. Turning the shower off, as if the lack of running water would help her concentrate, Ashley merely observed: her breasts were several cup sizes larger, enough to visible dangle as two large, stuffed orbs if she leaned forward, enough that, even with her back straight, they covered a good half of her chest. Far more than she’d ever had, more than anyone she personally knew, and more than enough to cover for her size fantasies and then some.
But when she brought her fingers up to her bust once again, hoping to get another taste of sweet sensory overload, she wasn’t merely given the softness of a pair of tits larger than any she’d seen with her own two eyes; rather, she was on the receiving end of an electrical jolt that nearly sent her flying from the shower as her muscles reflexively tensed up, followed by a near-melting sensation when her body went limp and Ashley had to slowly make her way down to the floor, sitting down as her tits grew all over herself.
Because that was exactly what was happening, and exactly what Ashley was forcing to happen as she openly fondled herself, eyes unfocused, hands busy kneading her increasing amounts of breastflesh. Were she to look down, she’d see those things bloating and swelling, taking up more and more space on her, growing heavier, denser, as their plump, teardrop shape was eventually replaced by a more rounded, spherical one, not unlike the exaggerated curves she’d seen in Jeremy’s silly dating game.
In fact, that was the first thing that came to mind when Ashley managed to think about anything… and having something to focus on, her mind zeroed in on it with a level of precision that strained imagination, immediately beelining towards the same kind of body plan as those women she’d seen on a screen a few minutes prior… except more.
It stood to reason that, as Jeremy’s wife, she should give him exactly what he wanted, insofar as he was ready to do the same. It was the basis of a relationship, was it not? A mutual give-and-take? And if her hubby liked massive, oversized tits, and she could provide said mammoth mammaries, then it made sense that she give him as much as he could possibly take and more… under the assumption he’d pay back, which she knew for a fact he would; it was Jeremy, he knew how things worked in that house!
But still, she had to go further. It wasn’t enough for her to be as big as the women in the dating sim, she had to be bigger; she had to reach the same unrealistic standards of beauty set by those fantasy images and then go further beyond, ensuring that, if given a choice between a physical manifestation of his game, and herself, Jeremy would pick his wife every single time. Plus, Ashley had to admit that the idea of turning herself into a hyper-sized bombshell was appealing for entirely selfish reasons, but she’d been a good girl, she deserved a few treats after putting up with so much bullshit at work for several months straight.
Now, getting up from the bath was a chore and a half, given how enormous her bust ended up being. Safely sat on the floor, it was easy for Ashley to miss just how big she’d made herself, enough that, when she stood in front of the mirror, she couldn’t even see her torso anymore; gasping for but a moment, she tried looking at herself in profile, and got about three seconds of realising she had a good foot of backboob on either side of herself before she noticed her tits weren’t the only thing that changed on her.
That ass was not hers, and neither were the thighs attached to it. Someone had plucked her upper body and placed it on top of someone else’s lower half, because she did not have a pair of cheeks big enough for her hands to be swallowed up to their wrist, and her legs definitely didn’t have enough pudge to them that she had to be careful not to hip-check the doorframe on the way out. And yet, both of those things were verifiably true, as she could see them right in front of her eyes.
This… posed a problem. But Ashley was smiling regardless, especially when she looked up at her head and saw the two fluffy cat ears protruding from the top of it. The smile turned into a grin, mischievous and playful in equal measure, as the young woman-turned-catgirl turned to face the door out of the bathroom, ready to show Jeremy the time of his life.
Jeremy, who was still asleep and didn’t wake up even when the bed groaned loudly enough that the downstairs neighbor wondered whether something had just collapsed above their head. Jeremy, who slept soundly and peacefully as he was moved around and placed somewhere where he’d have the best possible wake-up call in the history of humanity. Jeremy, who did eventually wake up feeling like he’d spent eight hours adrift in an ocean of soft cotton, and was wondering why he couldn’t see the ceiling… or anything, for that matter.
In fact, he could barely even move his head, but didn’t promptly panic for some reason; there was… something about his condition, something about that softness he just then realised was enveloping him, that left him feeling comfortable. Like he was at home, safe, unable to be harmed by anything the outside world could throw at him; he’d felt that way before once, but that couldn’t possibly be it.
Ashley’s tits weren’t nearly big enough to cover his head up like that. Or, at least, they didn’t use to be; the voice he was hearing from further up definitely belonged to his wife, though the sort of noises coming from her were… strange. He’d heard them before, coming from speakers or headphones whenever he was engrossed in one of his dating sims, and never once expected to hear Ashley producing them… but if that was the case, then surely this meant it had to be Ashley.
Jeremy couldn’t get up fast enough, so quickly that even the one holding him down, for all that she tried, couldn’t keep him locked in her embrace. Half-panicked and half-ecstatic, the young man rolled out of bed and immediately turned to look at who was on it, at which point he got about half a second’s worth of his sanity being intact before his brain began processing the visual information it was receiving… that, and the short and playful “Nya~!” that came along with his wife smiling up at him, a devious little gesture that betrayed how much she was enjoying herself.
That was not Ashley. Or rather, it was her face, her head, but that wasn’t her, not with that body. It wasn’t made any better when she slipped out of bed after him and it was made perfectly clear that she’d gained a couple of feet on him, ending up large enough that she could easily loom over him… though, on closer inspection, this turned out to be less a result of her being larger, and far more her lower body having gone the same way as her upper one.
It was impressive that, with the amount of boob Ashley had developed overnight, this still wasn’t the first thing Jeremy noticed; the gargantuan amount of ass she sported was, indeed, enough that his wife turned out at least two, maybe three feet taller than she had been, accompanied by a set of thighs of such colossal girth that he figured he could squeeze one and have his hand vanish all the way beyond the wrist. The rump itself was almost perfectly round-shaped, the exact kind of impossibly well-sculpted form that was the exclusive purview of fantasy light novels… and yet there it was, right in front of him, glistening with sweat and clapping loudly enough to be heard with each of Ashley’s motions.
Even more curiously, she’d left a visible stain on the mattress where she’d spent the whole night on, one in the shape of her gargantuan rear; Ashley was positively dripping, presumably from her body’s strain in trying to reshape itself into this new and improved form. Her thighs, as well, were quite literally shining from how many droplets formed and fell down their side, inviting Jeremy to shove himself in there and find himself a new heaven.
Add to that her new bust and it was a wonder how exactly that woman could even stand up: her tits were gigantic, enough to cover her whole front, go past the waist, and end up obscuring half of her thighs just from the front, with an almost indecent amount of backboob to go along with it. Not only that, but as Ashley swayed her torso from side to side, causing an amount of jiggling so high that it was practically criminal, Jeremy heard the faint noise of slorshing coming from within; together with the thick beads of white falling from her fist-sized nips, it was clear that this catgirl was in desperate need of some milking.
“Nya!” came her voice again, so awfully like Ashley’s, “Sorry, I was… smaller when this happened. But then I came to bed, and you were there, and you didn’t wake up, and I needed to… w-well, then I got busy and every time I did it I grew a bit, but I think it’s stopped now!” - her words came quickly enough that it was a wonder she didn’t trip on them - “What do you think? Better than the ones in your game, huh~?”
That was… certainly true. Jeremy didn’t know how to react, given that what he had in front of him was the most colossal catgirl he’d seen in his life, and given the selection of games in his hard drive, that was definitely saying something. To call her big would be a disservice; to call her stunning would be an understatement. He was staring up at someone he’d never thought he’d be able to see in person, and from the voice coming out of their mouth, this was Ashley, his wife, offering herself up like the most delectable banquet he could ever ask for.
It was unsurprising, then, that just a few moments later she was on the ground, on her knees, moaning with each tug on her nipples as Jeremy milked her with an energy that bordered on the manic. Squeaks and moans were pushed out of her with every motion, the sound of plapping accompanying them as Jeremy did his best to bury his cock between those mountainous cheeks of hers, bending over to reach her tits while he did so. Thick spurts of dairy erupted from both udders, with Ashley’s tone growing higher-pitched and ever needier with each one.
“Hnng, I’m still so full!” she cried out, her word choice doing nothing to belie how much she adored every moment of it, “I spent the whole night filling just f-for you… p-please, milk me! Milk me dry~!”
It was what he wanted to hear. Literally, it was what he wanted to hear. Those exact same words had been spoken in so many of his dating sims that they had almost lost all meaning; they were an automatic trigger now, burned into his muscle memory, one that he expected to be on the receiving end of at some point whenever he bought another game. He went in knowing a moment such as that one would be coded in, and now it was happening to him, for real, in the physical world, with Ashley… and he wanted to exploit that.
Concern for his wife’s well-being was rapidly overtaken by years of pent-up sexual desires finally given a chance to burst free and explore this brand new world of possibilities. There she was, an enormous, stacked catgirl with enough milk inside of her to pain their walls white, and now he could test things. Now he could do something like, say, not milk her, leaving her nipples to slowly engorge as they were left untended, while he focused entirely on fucking Ashley with every ounce of strength he had.
There was plenty of ass there for him to grab, plenty of leverage for him to bury himself into. Hell, he could barely even see his lower half, sunken as it was into a hot, sweaty mess of a crevice, the jackhammering causing the whole thing to jiggle like gelatin while Ashley begged him to milk her again. He didn’t listen though; how could he, when he had an ass of such magnificent proportions to plow into? Better that he spend his energy on doing something of substance rather than wasting it on emptying those tits; after all, didn’t he want them to be full?
The heat as well was nearly unbearable, but it somehow still added to the experience; Jeremy never expected to feel so welcomed by a pair of thighs so sweaty that it served as its own form of lubrication, but just as the stuff pooled under and around Ashley, so too did he use it to better thrust himself into an ass big and wide enough to swallow him whole.
For Ashley, the experience was at once one of utmost fulfillment, and ultimate frustration. If on one hand she had her husband fucking her with such gusto that she could barely even think properly, on the other she was still going unmilked, and that was an issue. Not only was the pressure inside of her tits continuously going up, but soon enough, she noticed that they were growing… stiffer, in a sense.
It was like watching a couple of water balloons slowly fill with water, as her breasts’ soft surface very gradually inflated outwards as their milky contents were allowed to build up, until what had just been a slight difference at first became a full cup size in time. Granted, a cup size up was basically nothing compared to the sheer magnitude of her tits, but if nothing was done about it, they were bound to start stacking.
Thankfully, Jeremy was quick to blow his load. It was early morning, her body was what it was, so the poor guy could only go so far before he completely lost track of where he put his stamina and his entire body stiffened in preparation for climax. It was especially bad for Ashley; she found out, at that exact moment, that her body seemed keyed to orgasm at around the same time as Jeremy’s, even if she’d been quite a long way away from it just a moment before… but it didn’t leave her any less needy.
If anything, after her tits were done spraying the wall with thick curtains of dairy, and her gush of femcum was done painting Jeremy’s groin, she was even less satisfied than she had been beforehand! Desperate for attention, thirsting for another climax, needing more stimulation in the hopes that this would be the one to finally give her what she wanted; in just that one instant, she went from still being somewhat in control of herself, to completely losing any semblance of self-control or restraint: she needed Jeremy to milk her.
Getting up was a pain in the ass as well; judging from the increase in weight, her tits had definitely filled out a few more inches, enough for the difference in size, though still relatively small, to be visibly noticeable. All Ashley could do was whine and take a step towards Jeremy, only to end up losing herself in how loudly her bust sloshed with that simple motion; a single step, and a cacophony of churning milk filled her hears, forcing her to step and bringing such a deep red hue to her face that it might as well have been permanently stained.
“P-please, m-master!” - the words left her mouth before she could think them through, and yet, they felt right, like she should say them - “I’m s-so full! I’m gonna burst, I need you to milk me, please!”
It was desperation and neediness in equal measures, with a little bit of deception sprinkled in for good measure; part of her didn’t want to be milked, as it very much enjoyed the idea of being made to bloat and swell with milk, growing sloshier and more laden as she turned into a kittycow. Hell, maybe she never wanted to be milked, just to see how far she could take her body, with Jeremy being there purely to keep her on a tight leash and relieve her of her precious dairy if she ever stepped out of line.
Because that was his job, wasn’t it? To take care of her, to nurture her, to make sure that she was treated the way that she deserved to be treated; she was his, and his only, and all she wanted in return was for him to fuck her the way he had just then, whenever he felt like it and however long he felt was needed… but only him, only ever him. And in return, she’d grow big, and full, and thick, and luscious, and bigger and bigger just so he could enjoy himself, purring all the while.
That is, after she was done getting milked. Because that pressure was definitely going to make her lose her mind if she didn’t do anything about it.
Unfortunately for Ashley, Jeremy seemed to be wholly unconcerned with being rid of her lactic overdrive; if anything, as soon as he recovered from his early morning workout, the first thing he did was hold one of this colossal milktanks like it was a body pillow, mumbling something to himself all the while. And though she knew her imperative was to drain and get all that milk out of her… she couldn’t force it.
“I think we should go out for a walk. Clear our heads, you know?” Jeremy eventually said, raising his head just enough to look at his wife with the biggest, dumbest smile on his face, “I don’t know what happened here, but… I think we need to get out of the house and see what happens. Get some fresh air?”
It was perfectly evident from his tone that he did not want any “fresh air”, nor anything of the sort. Ashley would in fact be hard-pressed to believe that what her husband wanted was to do anything other than show her off to the public. And while, under normal circumstances, she would’ve flat-out refused to do something as indecent as that… those weren’t normal circumstances.
