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Against The Clock - Part 2-3 (Patreon Commission for VDO)
🕑 Added 2021-12-27 11:43:03 +0000 UTCTAGS: A VDO Story (TM), Pokémon, Hyper/Hyper Everything, Extreme Perfection, Tentative Shared Universe
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How dare they even think of judging him for doing something they themselves got up to, when at least he had the decency of cleaning up after himself? Hell, some of them preferred to shunt the fluids off to a pocket dimension rather than try and deal with them, he at least made sure that they were properly rinsed off the walls and reprocessed into something useful, no matter how many times the other gods told him that he had no business “sharing his seed” so early in his life. He didn’t care though; he couldn’t care, such was his prerogative to turn the lives of everyone around him into the sort of mindless, debauched pleasure highs that only a demigod like himself could provide. He couldn’t care, because his mission forbade him from doing so; spending any amount of time second-guessing himself as to whether or not he should be “spreading the love”, so to speak, was time spent not doing said spreading, even if he happened to be alone in his bedroom with Lee and no one else was in sight. In fact, as far as he could bring himself to care, being in there with the Alakazam alone was perfect practice for when he went out to shower the whole world in his love and affection, doubly so since it also meant his ass would end up significantly larger than before, providing the absolutely perfect target for anyone daring enough to get within squishing or smushing range. All of this, of course, was secondary at that moment; he might occasionally allow his mind to wander, but for Harris, the principal motivation guiding him while inside the bedroom was the big, beefy hunk underneath his rump, the same beefy hunk who, for whatever reason, seemed very intent on getting bigger every time they took a breath. It was like a balloon, albeit one that was pumped full of mass rather than air, one whose voice became deeper rather than squeakier, one whose arms and legs and arms and feet and mouth were so delightfully hyperactive that all the Espeon could do was moan back and hope they heard him. Really, it was nothing short of miraculous that Lee even managed to find that particular spot on the demigod’s body, considering just how much ass was in the way, but Harris wasn’t about to complain; he had a cock to hug and give a fullbodyjob to, a word that he was consistently told did not exist but that he insisted on using anyway. What else would he call what he was doing? He was hugging a shaft bigger than his upper body was (and bigger than the entirety of his form, if one discounted his butt) and rubbing himself all over it, smearing his fur in such a large quantity of cum that his light purple coating became whiter by the second, a fact that Harris was immensely proud of Lee for. What else would he call it, if not what it literally was? It felt disrespectful not to give his husband the props they had earned, when already the floor of their bedroom was coated in an inch-thick layer of seed that only seemed to be getting thicker with each time Harris moved along the length of the Alakazam’s shaft. That alone was already the kind of stimulation the Espeon could only ever dream of if he had remained within the divine realm; though he himself was capable of far outstripping what Lee was producing, that hunk of manmeat was himself far more hyperproductive than most of the so-called “deities” who made their home in the pantheon up above. They could certainly flood a whole lot of empty space when they finally climaxed, but it took a special kind of man, a special kind of someone just like Lee, to be able to do so on what counted as precum alone. It was in those moments that Harris allowed his eyes to roll upwards into his skull in order to just enjoy the moment; it was an interesting experience, especially given that he hadn’t had the opportunity to indulge in it beforehand, not when he still lived with his mother and extended family. He’d always had to put in effort, always had to consciously do something as a result of the massive power discrepancy between himself and whoever he happened to be with; he could never just turn his brain off and enjoy things as they were, nor could he afford the luxury of not taking the wheel and directing where things went. With Lee, however, none of this was true, and the best part of it was that Harris simply didn’t know why that was. He had no idea why the two of them had such a deep connection that it only felt natural to do whatever their bodies told them to do, nor could he explain the level of synchronicity that existed between them; it was as if they were two halves to a whole, a whole that only became apparent when they came together in blissful lovemaking, a whole that superimposed itself onto its constituent parts. Harris never had to think about anything, nor did he have to spend any amount of processing power deciding what had to be done; likewise, Lee could simply shut himself down and let muscle memory take the wheel, while his conscious self took refuge in the back of his head, hiding from the onslaught of sensation overload that constantly threatened to break him in half. Neither of them were making any deliberate decisions anymore; if ever they’d had the ability to do so, it had long since been forfeited to the automatic processes that took over whenever the two of them got behind closed doors, guiding them ever closer to a climax that would shake the very foundations of their world… metaphorically, of course. Literally, the effect would only extend to the neighborhood, which, granted, did lead to many an awkward situation where Harris and Lee had to explain why everyone’s houses were suddenly a few inches off from where they should be, not to mention all the spillage, but it was worth it in the end; no amount of hurried excuses or legal reparations could really hold a candle to the intense degree of raw pleasure experienced by the two whenever they got together like they were just then, for nothing really could match the sheer intensity of it. There they were, a demigod and his mortal husband, a mortal and his demigod spouse, locked together in matrimony of the most carnal variety, unable to see past one another in any sense of the expression. There they were, moaning, groaning, screaming, begging, whining, a combination of any and all noise that could be produced, resulting in a mindless cacophony that was intended not to achieve any particular goal, but merely to add to the atmosphere; neither Harris nor Lee expected their vocalizations to achieve anything more specific, like moving an arm here or getting the Espeon’s ass to move, but rather, they were there purely because they were supposed to be there. What they felt was too good, too powerful to be bottled up, and thus, it had to externalized in some way, lest they find themselves bursting at the seams from the sheer amount of pleasure experienced without any way to vent it. And while initially this could be relatively easily handled by way of simply making a lot of noises which left their neighbors red in the face and hot in the everywhere, eventually, the escalating process of arousal could only end one way; when the floor was flooded and the walls were buckling, when the amount of ass being experienced reached a critical point, when the very state of reality within their bedroom became less a certainty and more a suggestion, then something had to budge… and that something, by definition, was Lee. Not that the Alakazam was weaker than his Espeon partner; far from it, in fact. It was a simple fact of life, that Harris was just as much a physical being as he was a force of nature, the very incarnation of pleasure itself given form in a very plump, pear-shaped lad whose principal core motives revolved around making people around him as horny as possible. Harris could no more be the first to the finish line than Lee could stop breathing, and as much as the giant hunk had a hell of a lot of resistance built up as a result of being constantly smothered by Espeon ass, there were limits to how far he could go before even his prodigious stamina reached its end, limits beyond which there lay nothing but a large, overwhelmingly blanketing coating of thick, viscous white. It didn’t matter just how big Harris made himself, nor how eagerly he held onto that colossus of a cock; in the end, Lee’s release would be such that not even the gods themselves would be able to hope to compare to it, much less think to contain it. For Lee was just that: uncontainable. The Alakazam might like to think that he was but a mere mortal who happened to be on the upper end of power scale, but Harris knew better; his hubby might very well be a regular mortal, but there was no “regular” about them whatsoever. Whether it be the constant exposure to someone like himself, the work with the rifts, or the fact that the pantheon seemed to look towards him as a form of role model (however much a god could find someone else to be an exemplar for anything at all), the Alakazam was more. Not more “anything” in particular, just more; more and more, and now, after what felt like hours, he was about to demonstrate just why and how that was. The house rumbled, the ground itself quaking as if it was beset by tremors, and the whole neighborhood had maybe a couple of seconds to realize what was happening for the proper vibrations began: after all, that cum had to come from somewhere, and while Harris had been busy licking and grinding that shaft in front of him, he had completely neglected to do anything to the positively gargantuan set of nuts just a foot or so away, the same ones which had grown to overshadow the size of his own ass! Quite the achievement, at least temporarily; most of that size was about to be drained into their surroundings (for a given meaning of “drained”, at least), hence why Harris didn’t feel the need to one-up them… that, and the knowledge that if he did so, there was a very good chance the world might not be there to see it afterwards. There was already enough trouble with one of their teammates being capable of upending global order, they didn’t need to add themselves onto the list just because they were horny. Local upending though? Completely covering an entire neighborhood in spunk and then acting as if this was perfectly normal? Entirely acceptable as far as Harris was concerned, and while Lee lacked the sentient processing required to truly consider the magnitude of this, the Espeon figured they’d be fine with it too; they had been in the past, and nothing had truly changed, so why not?
The result… was audible, to say the least. Mina, some way’s away, having just finished fine-tuning the agri-complex to deliver up to 200% efficiency and then accidentally overclocking it to 800% without realizing how, heard it before she saw it. Her pawbs, sensitive as they were, picked up on the vibrations caused by the release, prompting her to look to the side and witness a pillar of cum so tall that it could be seen from over the horizon; seeing as Harris and Lee’s place was a couple of hundred miles away from where she was at the time, this was… certainly saying something.
She sighed, then chuckled quietly to herself. Never a dull moment.
Someone was gonna have to clean that mess again.
