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Changes - Part 2 (Patreon Commission for ShrapnelTheWolf)
🕑 Added 2021-06-21 14:11:49 +0000 UTCTAGS: Hyper/Hyper Everything (eventually), Growth/Expansion, Cumflation, M/F, Room-Filling Sizes, House Destruction
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He’d heard that before, back when he was visiting Liz on a regular basis and inevitably ran into her mother draining herself in the living room. The older serval kept a variety of milking machines on hand for whenever she needed to empty out, which just so happened to be on a near-daily basis unless she wanted to end up immobilized by her own dairy production. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Cynthia would have something ready in case her daughter needed the same kind of help, but it nonetheless came as nothing less than utter shock once Shrapnel looked back to see the enormous suction cups attached to his girlfriend’s nipples. Not as much of a shock as the amount of milk pouring out, but then again, at that point he was so tired from everything that had happened that he was just happy that things were finally getting fixed; so much so that, once Cynthia called out for him to go help her rearrange the milking machine once Liz shrank down enough, he didn’t think twice about it, ending up nearly tripping over his own cock in his rush to get out of the room. The older serval didn’t say anything about that immense rod, but they clearly spent a few moments ogling it, their eyes going wide as they went from down below to looking up at the wolf and then back down again, as if trying to make sure that he knew what was going on; probably had something to do with the fact that her own milkers were quite a bit bigger than normal, and this just happened to give her a whole bunch of ideas for where that brand new shaft could go. In the meantime though, they had a job to do.
The two of them spent the better part of an hour draining Elizabeth back down to size. The machine itself was an enormous assembly mounted onto the wall outside Liz’s bedroom; a precaution, her mother explained, just in case their daughter turned out to be half as productive as they were, considering the bedroom was on the first floor and the last thing any of them wanted was for the younger serval to try and go down the stairs while laden with milk. Occasionally, Cynthia and Shrapnel would swap out the suction cups for smaller ones once Liz’s nipples became too small to properly fit, but as the minutes ticked away and the flow of milk began to abate, both of them started to realize that the “damage” done to Elizabeth’s body was far more severe than they could’ve anticipated. Growth spurts of this caliber did have a tendency of causing permanent growth even when they were fully shrunk down, but neither the wolf nor the serval by his side could ever have imagined that Liz would go from her already well-endowed size to… well, that, especially since it had been their very first time getting their insides painted white without having a condom in the way. It was a herald of things to come, that much was certain, and Shrapnel in particular found it increasingly more difficult to keep his cock down as it became more and more evident that his girlfriend wasn’t going to shrink past a certain point, one that left her so much more massive compared to before that he was already ready to go again, and damn the consequences.
It was actually amazing how much she’d grown, especially considering she was already far bigger than most people just by default. If her tits used to hang just below the waist beforehand, now they were inching dangerously close to the floor, and quite literally so; Shrapnel was certain that if he managed to stick a ruler in there, the distance between the very bottom of those things’ curvature and the sodden carpet would barely reach three inches, if even that much. This came accompanied by such an obscene amount of overspill that Elizabeth probably had more backboob on either side of her torso than she did torso to begin with; this obviously lent itself to a lot of sloshing whenever she tried to move, her immense bust swinging from side to side and threatening to knock over just about anything out in front of her. The serval was beside herself, as her tits were now so unbelievably enormous that she could lean over, use them as beanbags, stretch her arms out and still be just barely capable of clearing the halfway mark to her nipples… nips which had each grown to the size of an overinflated beachball each, stuffed and engorged, capping areola that took up most of the front of those stuffed milktanks. All in all, the very definition of excess, and one that immediately began to fill up and grow the moment the milking machine was turned off; while initially Cynthia didn’t pay much attention to the sounds of milk churning, as she herself was no stranger to them, the older serval had a slight moment of panic when she noticed her daughter had already bloated a good half a foot in every direction after just a few minutes without having their milk pumped out of them, prompting a rush to get the suction cups back on, much to Liz’s chagrin… and Shrapnel’s as well, at least eventually.
While the two felines settled their issues and argued with one another over what constituted an appropriate milking schedule, the wolf was left with some time to inspect his own body. He already knew that his dick had grown much larger than it had been, but in between being so busy with the milking and the whole “waking up surrounded by tits” thing before that, he hadn’t really had the time to fully take in the change wrought to his form; at best, he was vaguely aware that it was enormous enough that he had to worry about where he was stepping, lest he trip on it and fall flat on his face. Thankfully for him, as his girlfriend and her mother began to hash out an agreement over who got to bloat and how much, he could close his eyes, steady his breathing, and let his dick retreat back into its sheath… not that this helped things much, considering how colossal that thing had also become. Honestly, it looked somewhat unbalanced on him; since it now had to deal with a cock several times larger than most males his age, the wolf’s cockholster had become this immense, meaty, fur-covered lump protruding heavily from between his legs, thicker and longer than most dicks were all by themselves. While the tip of it had closed up, it was still big enough that Shrapnel could easily shove his hands inside of it and pull it open with little difficulty, revealing a cavernous opening fit for a phallus that could easily outsize most of his body all on its own; to say nothing of the two balls he had hanging underneath him, which he had just then realized had also become something of a colossal, engorged version of what they used to be. While he could still push them behind his legs to walk normally, he was certain that all it’d take would be a day or so without releasing for them to make it impossible for him to move without waddling, and even in the presumably empty state that they were in, both nuts were big enough to go far past his knees and also approach the ground. A perfect symmetry, given Liz’s current condition… Liz, who had tits that hung mere inches off the ground and were trying to push that even more, Liz, whose body had reacted so well to her first true filling that she’d become larger than her mother had ever been. Liz, who was calling for his name and begging him to tell Cynthia that she needed to be bigger, she needed to have the milking pumps turned off and removed from her. Liz, who needed his help.
He acted more on instinct than anything else. One moment he had his back to the wall and one hand on his sheath, experimenting with how much it could open, and the next he was already halfway over to where Liz was calling for him, cock emerging from within that plump thing and with enough blood pumped into it that the wolf couldn’t even see directly in front of him. Against Cynthia’s protestations, Shrapnel grabbed both suction cups and promptly pulled them off his girlfriend, and then unceremoniously angled his cock directly into the younger serval’s cleavage; without warning, preparation or even any kind of foreplay, he plunged into the warm depths, drawing a prolonged yowl-cum-moan from Liz and a worried yelp from her mother. The room was filled with the sounds of churning milk, Elizabeth’s production kicking into high gear as both her and the wolf titfucking her forgot about the world around them; all that mattered was Shrapnel’s hands holding onto so much breastflesh that they vanished all the way up to their wrists, and on the other side, Liz pushing against her tits in tandem with the shaft thrusting into them, purely to maximize the pleasure she felt each time her mate bottomed out. Cynthia, sensing an opportunity, rushed to get the suction cups back on now that the two lovebirds were distracted, and while she was successful at getting the milk flow back into the machinery, this didn’t really do anything to stymie the unending growth that Liz had unleashed upon herself. Yes, she was dry, dry enough that after the few seconds of build-up were handled, she only spurted milk whenever Shrapnel hilted himself into her cleavage, the pressure forcing a gush to be fired from each nipple… but with each thrust came raw size as well. It didn’t really matter that the milking machine had left Liz completely devoid of her cream, because each time that Shrapnel’s hips bucked forward, each time that the tip of his cock slammed into the very bottom of the serval’s cleavage, both of her tits surged outwards. They weren’t filling anymore: they were growing.
An inch per thrust, then three, then half a foot, then a full foot each time that cock jackhammered hard enough into her that Liz was left completely breathless. The only saving grace for the two of them was that Shrapnel was too tired to really piston into her with the kind of gusto he did before, but that was hardly any consolation when he still had plenty of energy left in him to titfuck those mounds into taking up most of the bedroom again… and with Cynthia having retreated to the corridor outside, there was no one there to help change the suction cups once they inevitably became too small, no one to stop the two of them from fucking until Liz’s tits started to bloat outwards with milk, no one to tell them when to stop… so they didn’t. Why should they, when they could very easily sustain one another in their endless desire for growth? All it took was for the cups to fall off before Shrapnel could turn his head to the side and drink a whole mouthful of that delicious, nutritious cream pouring so freely from his girlfriend’s teats, experiencing a surge in energy unlike any he’d ever gone through before. It was as if he was given an adrenaline shot straight to the heart with each gulp he took, a process that mounted on itself, leaving him more and more awakened the more he drank; and, coincidentally, making his cock even bigger with every droplet consumed. He didn’t notice it at first, given that he was already off his feet and basically hanging onto a tit several times bigger than him, but the weight eventually did get to him: when he began to slow down, when his hips tired of having to move such a colossal shaft, that’s when he knew that he was approaching his limit… so he thrust harder. A bigger cock meant bigger results, right? So with one bottoming out, Liz’s tits smashed against opposite sides of her bedroom, with another they occupied every cubic inch of space inside of it, and with a third the walls simply ceased to be, releasing Elizabeth onto the world.
Things became blurry past this point, as they had back before the wolf had woken up surrounded by breastflesh on all sides. This particular time, however, he would come to… in bed. It was shocking, to say the least, enough so that he immediately jolted upwards and started to scan his surroundings, part of him dreading the possibility that everything that had happened that day had been some kind of extended lucid dream and him making his girlfriend outgrow her own house had somehow strained the believability of it so much that his own brain put a brake to it and jettisoned him back to reality. But he wasn’t in his room, nor was he in Liz’s; he didn’t know where he was, in fact. It was clearly some kind of living space, but the longer he kept looking at it, the more Shrapnel realized it wasn’t really a bedroom per se; the whole thing looked too sterile, too clinical to really be somewhere that people lived in: from the stark white walls to the frankly uninspired, metallic and straight-edged nightstand next to him that looked like a squatty file cabinet, to the way his bed looked like it had come straight from a hospital, if not for the frankly colossal bulge directly in front of hi-oh right, that was a thing. With a blush, the wolf pulled the sheets off of him, not really knowing how to react once he saw confirmation that what happened had, indeed, been fully real; how else was he going to explain having a sheath big enough to hang close to his knees, or a pair of balls so inflated with seed that they were already spilling over from the far side of the bedframe? The whole thing looked egregiously oversized on him, which wasn’t helped by the fact that his first thought was how enormous Elizabeth must be; not a second later, the tip of his cock pushed its way to the outside world, and a few seconds after that his shaft had risen to full mast, leaving him with a rod big enough to reach the ceiling and still need to bend over a bit just to fit in the room. Easily over ten feet in length and thicker than his shoulders were wide… and yet, not nearly as bad as he dreaded it would be; in fact, it felt downright tiny compared to what it should be.
Answers would come in the form of a very worried-looking Cynthia suddenly bursting through a door to his left side that he hadn’t noticed until then. The older serval was the smallest he’d ever seen her, dressed as modestly as she possibly could to boot; from the way the bags under her eyes looked, she must’ve not slept in quite a while, which raised the question of just how long he and Elizabeth were out for… or whether or not Elizabeth was even fine. His questions would be shushed by the tactical application of a single raised finger on Cynthia’s part, before she unceremoniously pushed his chin up with one hand and grabbed his throat with the other; the panic he felt in that one instant, however, was abated once he realized she was actually fiddling with something, a collar of sorts that he had missed up until then, and with a loud beep, suddenly his dick began to shrink. Not in the way that it usually did, as the blood drained from it after being used, but literally becoming smaller, visually speaking, almost like it was being…
“Compressor tech,” Cynthia filled in for him, breathing a sigh of relief, “we were waiting for you to wake up before we turned it up fully, sorry for that.”
“But…” - he didn’t know what to say. Size compressors were hideously expensive and mostly experimental, at least as far as he knew; did Elizabeth’s mom have industry connections? - “Wait, we? I-Is Liz ok?”
“Oh, she’s more than ok,” the serval replied, rolling her eyes and simultaneously failing to hide a very proud smile she tried her best to pretend wasn’t there, “you too did a number on the house, you know? You’re lucky Liz likes you so much, or I’d have you pay for repairs!”
Shrapnel wanted to say something to the tune of “But I’ll help pay anyway!”, but truth be told, how was he supposed to? He didn’t even have a job, and now with a student loan to pay off as well, he could hardly afford to help rebuild a whole chunk of a family home… though, at the same time, he was responsible for whatever damage was done to it, leaving him in a conflicted state that Cynthia was merciful enough to knock him out of.
“Not to worry hun, lil’ ol’ me’s got a lot more up her sleeve than you give her credit for” - that chuckle was terrifying - “Besides, I think you have something a bit more important to worry about. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone… for now.”
There was no doubt that the tone in which Cynthia said those last two words implied she was very much not done, and judging by the way she gave his cock a good, long look before leaving the room, Shrapnel could only guess that she was looking for a piece of the action as well. It was a testament to how warped his perception was that the wolf didn’t immediately discard that option, though given what he saw next, he was spared from having to think at all, at least for the next few minutes. As soon as the older serval squeezed her way out of his presumed observation room, the doorway was taken up by something. Something big, black and capped off by a nub that took up most of the opening. It took Shrapnel a few seconds to realize he was looking at an areola, or at least part of one, and a nipple massive enough that he could probably stuff his whole cock into it and still have plenty of room left; it was obvious who that was, and for once, the wolf was happy that his true size was hidden by away by the compressor, because otherwise that room wouldn’t have lasted much longer either. How exactly Elizabeth managed to push her way inside was nothing short of miraculous, though given the weird way her tits seemed to shrink and expand as they were squeezed through the tight doorway, it was obvious she had compressors on herself, further raising doubts over just who Cynthia was if they could just afford to call in favours like that. Or, well, that’s what a saner, more in-control Shrapnel would’ve thought, if he wasn’t staring down a pair of serval boobs that took up most of the room; the cherry on top of the cake was Liz somehow managing to jump upwards with a small grunt, swivelling herself in just the right way to end up lying on a bed of her own tits.
“This is your fault, you know?”
There was nothing accusatory about those words. If anything, the way they were spoken, together with the look that Liz was giving him, left the wolf even more grateful for the compressor holding him back; the serval was taunting him, letting him know that if not for… whatever happened to drive them apart, she would’ve gladly gone even further than she did, even when this, her presumably compressed state, was about as big as her mother got when they deliberately went for days without milking themselves down to size. One could only imagine how ridiculously huge Liz must be without the distortion field keeping her that way, or how ludicrously productive those milktanks must be if they were already that huge to begin with. But, in the end, they still weren’t the most distinctive part of Liz’s body; they were impossible to miss, sure, but there was something else that drew Shrapnel’s eyes once they weren’t locked to the mountain of breashflesh in front of him: her belly.
It was bigger, rounder, and from the shape of it, that wasn’t cum in there… or at least, not anymore. It couldn’t possibly be true, it was too much of a violation of the laws of nature, and yet as soon as Liz noticed her boyfriend ogling her swollen midriff, the first thing she did was give him a knowing grin, a wink, and then proceed to slowly rub it in long, circular motions; only then did the wolf notice that, unlike the rest of her, the serval’s belly was actually growing, and a fast enough enough that he could actually see it! Judging from the way it was progressing, her tits would have plenty of competition by the end of the day.
“Came in just a few minutes ago. I haven’t told mom,” Liz mused, knowing exactly what was on her mate’s mind, “and I don’t think it’s really started either. I don’t know what you did to me, but I’m not done growing just yet.”
And again, there was that tone, that invitation to excess, to self-indulgence, to give up the very concept of limitations and just fuck without concern, to breed until the two of them were immobilized by their own productivity, until Shrapnel was left stranded on top of a very gravid Elizabeth, each thrust filling her womb with even more young for her eternally growing belly. It didn’t even register with the wolf that he was going to be a father; in that moment, all he saw was a pregnant Liz with a swelling tum lying on top of two tits bigger than any he’d ever seen before, and the only reason he wasn’t making things even worse was the compressor holding his cock back. This didn’t stop him from getting up and throwing himself at that wall of tit though, nor did it do anything to dissuade him from trying to stuff his face into one of those gigantic nipples in order to make good use of the milk that was sure to flow from them; he did have a compressor on, so surely he shouldn’t have to worry about any growth manifesting into the outside world, right? If only it were that simple though, and he did have access to an unrestricted, limitless source of delicious cream; as soon as he pushed both of his hands into one of those buds, each one about as big as a beanbag chair, he pulled them open, only to reveal… some sort of black object stuck inside. Looking up, he saw Elizabeth’s toothy grin, explaining why she hadn’t done anything to try and stop him.
“They corked them up,” she stated matter-of-factly, cracking up ever so slightly once the absurdity of it got to her, “told me it was the only way to staunch the flow properly. They actually serve as the compressors too, so all my milk gets thrown into whatever pocket dimension these things are using. So no drinks for you, Shrap honey, not until we figure out if we can live together without exploding the whole world or something.”
A tall order, considering Shrapnel didn’t hear a single word of what she said and was instead trying his best to dislodge the cork from within the nipple it was lodged within; whether or not he was capable of, or if Liz should be stopping him, the serval did absolutely nothing to prevent this from happening. Perhaps she, too, disliked the idea of being held back, and wished for nothing more than for her tits to balloon outwards like they deserved to… or maybe she was just having a chuckle at his expense again.
“What are you two kids doing? Hands off!” came Cynthia’s voice from somewhere beyond the wall of boob, “Do you want to get smushed against the wall?!”
