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The Shoot Is On - Part 4 (Commission for VDO)
🕑 Added 2021-04-20 13:28:21 +0000 UTCTAGS: Pokémon, Hyper/Mega Hyper, Macro/Mega Macro/Planet Macro/Universe Macro, Growth/Expansion, Milk/Lactation, Ascension/Goddess
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In some remote corner of the universe, deep into the last few aeons of the stelliferous age, civilization as it was known had to start dealing with the fact that the universe simply wouldn’t be lasting that much longer… comparatively, at least. There was still plenty of time for civilizations to come and go, plenty of time for things to happen, but the rampant overuse of resources had left most of the known cosmos in a state of utmost desolation, in sharp contrast to the mythical golden ages, when intergalactic travel was first developed; there were nothing but stories left of those times, back when everything was bountiful and the stars themselves were moved in accordance with the whims of whoever happened to be nearest to them. Great feats of macro-engineering were conducted purely for aesthetic reasons, bridges created between far-flung galactic clusters to better facilitate movement, even entropy, if the few scraps of information they had were to be believed, was actively fought back against, that the universe may last for much longer than it should. But prosperity eventually made way to stagnation, as even the greatest of super-civilizations couldn’t fight back against the one constant: scarcity.
Eventually, resources began to wear thin, when most asteroids had been harvested, when most stars without planets were encased, when everything that could be used was used, and it only got worse from there on out; the grand projects that had once unified the entirety of reality were abandoned, their maintenance costs simply too high to justify their continued existence, and slowly, the highways connecting everyone to everyone else simply… stopped being. Hyperspace tunnels were collapsed, wormholes shut down, and eventually each galactic supercluster was left to its own devices, then each individual cluster, until finally it was every galaxy by itself; naturally, this only aggravated the resource problems, and what followed were thousands upon thousands of years of continuous degradation, as civilizations knew that engaging in wanton warfare would only hasten their decline even further. Rather, individual galaxies simply began to turn inward, isolating themselves from the rest of the universe, scraping by with whatever they still had while it still lasted; and while most of the “core” galaxies, the ones in which sentient life had first appeared, had turned into barren wastelands devoid of any but the most simple of microscopic lifeforms, there yet remained some hope for those which had been colonized much later on during the intergalactic age… but even those were reaching the end of the line, and with no way of really fighting back against the encroaching issue of scarcity, they at last began to turn outwards again.
There would be no jolly cooperation though, no working together to solve these problems in ways that defied conventional knowledge. The know-how for how to break physics down into its base components in order to rearrange it in accordance with their needs had been lost so long ago that no one even knew when that had happened, and even interstellar communication was… spotty at best. Most contact between different parts of galactic civilizations was done via relatively slow-moving FTL ships, who often took years to go from one side of their home galaxy to the other, decades in the larger ones; the stage was set for life to once more regress to a purely planetbound existence, waiting the rest of reality out until finally the dark came to claim them… for the most part. There still remained those who believed that if they didn’t have enough, then they would simply need to take it from those who did, and with a few galactic structures still having pathways maintained between them, the lucky few with the technological knowledge and the resources to do so, it was only a matter of time before these highways became access routes, a way to strike at the civilization on the other side of the tunnel as a prelude to plundering it mercilessly.
Thus was the situation in two very specific galaxies, TRK 451-542 and TRK-451-255, known to their inhabitants as the Two Dancers. They were both extremely close to one another by cosmic standards, enough that the hyperspace connections between them needed very little actual maintenance, and thus could be kept up with whatever materials could still be spared, as well as a handful of Dyson Spheres moved close to the entry points. Both of the Dancers had seen only minor colonization, giving them just enough time to explore and exploit their new home that, even as the rest of the universe dimmed, they yet remained as a beacon of light, a source of hope for those who lived within them. That is, of course, until their respective galactic councils decided that the other Dancer had to be “welcomed” into the fold, by force if necessary, in order to ensure “long-term stability”; war was looming over the horizon, and there wasn’t a lot that anyone living there could do to stop the uncontrolled geopolitical hamster wheel… no one but Vivian, that is.
She stopped writing, in the way that she plucked at the cosmic strings in order to create history, looking back at everything to wonder why she’d spent so long coming up with a convoluted backstory for what was effectively just her wanting to show off how hot she was to a few trillion onlookers. The Delphox blushed a little; this exercise had reminded her of how much she liked worldbuilding for her friends back when she was still small enough to be able to exist comfortably on planets, something that her brain clearly hadn’t gotten rid of yet. Nor would it, if she had anything to say about it; some guilty pleasures were allowed, she was a goddess after all! But, alas, as a goddess, her role was to intervene in this looming galactic war of her own making to show to those who lived in both Dancers just how wrong they were about this “scarcity” silliness that they were convinced they had to deal with; they had forgotten entirely about their merciful goddess, the one who’d blessed this golden age they knew so little about, and now it was her responsibility to remind them of how and why supercluster highways were even possible to begin with. It was hard to suppress a smile once she formulated this thought; the knowledge that she was so carelessly inserting herself into the timeline like that, and a timeline that she herself had established to begin with, was enough to get her tingly in a way that made it exceedingly difficult to focus. She had to, though, for everyone’s sake.
Once again, her physical avatar was something beyond mortal ken, but in a far more directed manner this time around, for the Delphox had a plan for how to deal with the lack of resources, one that didn’t actually involve her fucking people into becoming broodmothers like the last time. No, this particular situation required her to put on her best “lifegiving fertility goddess” act, to appear to the leaders of both galaxies simultaneously and instantly let them know just what they were dealing with by virtue of how much Vivian had to distort spacetime just to fit inside their little buildings; if anyone asked, she was clearly “inside” them, but as the giant goddess appeared before the legislatures, her body was obviously too big to truly fit inside anything at all, creating a sort of optical illusion that threatened to mentally crash whoever laid eyes on it. Certainly didn’t help that the body that Vivian chose for herself that time around was far, far more stacked up above than it was anywhere else; while she retained some measure of curvaceousness to her ass and legs, the real stars of the show were her tits: stuffed beyond recognition, so much so that they were close to collapsing into black holes just from how dense they were, and yet still big enough that even the Delphox herself, a giantess in her own right, was barely even visible compared to the mounds she sported. And yet, despite this, she still somehow managed to fit inside buildings that, big as they were, really shouldn’t be able to host a single nipple, let alone the whole rack!
There were no niceties to be had, no warnings before the grand introduction… mostly because Vivian herself wasn’t used to such an absurd discrepancy in proportions and it was starting to affect her in ways that she hadn’t accounted for. Still, she did her best to keep her composure and begin rattling off the speech she had prepared for the occasion: a rambling one, going through the topics of peace, intergalactic cooperation, the “illusion of scarcity”, all with a few dashes of history thrown in so they would know just who it was they were speaking to. It was doubtful that anyone was truly listening, and indeed Vivian began wondering just how much of it she’d have to edit out after she was done recording; for some reason, this particular story had resonated so deeply with her that she forgot that the plot was the most pointless part of any given smut story. But, was it though? Who set the ground rules on that? Who sat down one day and said that porn didn’t have to have plot, and who were they compared to her, the literal goddess of that universe? The plot gave it character! Who would care about this galactic struggle being resolved if it wasn’t given some kind of weight?!
That’s what she told herself at least, and that was the story she was sticking to, as she utterly bored everyone half to death with her long-winded speech about what was right, what was wrong, and why they should all listen to what she had to say about a bright new future that was possible if they just did things together and didn’t fight one another. Honestly, past a certain point, Vivian was practically forced to keep going just to have the shoot retain some semblance of narrative sense, because she absolutely wasn’t going to go to those lengths just to then cut off the whole thing in post; maybe she could market it as a novelty item for sci-fi enthusiasts, which reminded her that typically smut films needed to have some smut in them, at which point her mind snapped back to the actual reason why she was there. It took a couple of throat clearings and a few false starts when the Delphox almost began the speech all over again, but she did eventually get to the point: all that was necessary in order to avoid war was for the galaxies to simply… accept her gift.
No one in either Dancer quite knew what she was talking about, being stuffy politicians and all, but once they saw the first droplets of milk begin to form on and around the impossibly massive teats looming high above them, they realized that Vivian wasn’t being metaphorical about it; when she called for “one chosen” among them to “step forth” and “accept her bounty”, she meant it as literally as she possibly could, triggering a scramble on both galactic councils where everyone present fought with one another over the privilege of being the one to lead their home into a brand new golden age, therefore missing the point entirely. The Delphox didn’t mind though, as she had her eyes set on two very specific individuals, two women who could maybe be related to her own species, after millions of years of evolution, both directed and otherwise; she looked straight at them, a smile that could not be seen, yet burned just as brightly as a star from behind the wall of milk-stuffed breastflesh she sported, and suddenly, the new goddesses knew what they must do: step forth, and accept the bounty, for they had been chosen.
The mechanics behind it were too complex to really explain, nor did they make any sense given the difference in size, but since when had that been an impediment? Vivian wanted those two to drink, so they would drink, simultaneously and from the same body despite said body being in two places at once and neverwhere, a semi-state where she manifested in both Dancers, purely so she could feel as she nurtured two new deities into existence; it took extra camera work, not to mention the nightmare that would be split-screen editing, but it was all worth it in the end, if only because of what happened the moment that the first drop of cream met the two women’s tongues: growth. Not growth like Vivian had experienced it obviously, nothing would ever compare to that, but certainly enough that the duo of mortals very quickly went from being outsized by the droplet of milk they drank to big enough to wrap their whole mouth around the nipple that had created it, triggering their exponential surge upwards, as now the Delphox didn’t have to hold back.
Didn’t take long before sizes became so obscene and absurd that buildings could no longer contain them, regardless of how much spatial fuckery Vivian put in place to ensure that no one got hurt. Of course, no one did get hurt anyway; she was far too much of a merciful goddess to allow anyone to come to harm in the process of ascending others to the same station… plus, it made for bad smut when someone got randomly smushed underneath a city-sized tit and they actually felt it, rather than being safely kept in the warm folds without having to worry about the forces pushing down on them. Still, it was difficult for the Delphox to keep herself focused as soon as the two budding divinities began to drink from her in earnest; it was one thing for her to simply gush and splurge out cum in copious quantities in front of a pantheon of gods, no one had gotten close to her then. It was another, completely different one to be able to feel two very different mouths suckling from two distinct teats a few million light-years apart in two bodies that were truly one, forcing her to keep up as the highly-energetic cream transformed the two chosen women from simply people-sized into becoming absolutely titanic giantesses, comparable even to Vivian herself before she ascended… and more.
More, because they wouldn’t just stop once they reached a certain point, not even when both of them had to jettison themselves off of their planets, no really caring nor wondering about why or how the breast they were drinking from never seemed to move from where it was regardless of how much destruction it should be causing; all Vivian could hope for was that the two new goddesses would eventually drink so much that she herself wouldn’t have to keep splitting her body in two, and the avatars she had manifested could merge into a single one. She was well on her way to do that, in all fairness; it was honestly quite difficult to keep a lid on things when she was so massive by default, and while most people on the two planets the deities were on would’ve liked to see a nice, slow ascension, the group had a couple of galaxies to help recover from a rut. So they kept drinking, Vivian pressing hard on the side of her titanic milktanks in order to further stimulate production and output, hoping it would be enough to keep her proverbial daughters satisfied, even when she knew such a thing wasn’t possible; they would keep drinking, keep growing, their bodies already held close against the lifegiving bosom they were guzzling greedily from, the two women grinding themselves against the soft breastflesh as their nethers gushed with enough femcum to flood entire oceans, the entire planets, then… well, the galaxies could use a few more nebulae, even if they weren’t entirely made out of hydrogen.
Still, more was needed, so more was given. More was given until the scales involved became something more than merely planetary, until the bodies attached to the teats from which Vivian granted her divine milk became themselves something more than mere mortal, something more than just big; it was only a matter of time before the illusion was shattered and the veil broken, the polite fiction that they were just growing giving way to the reality that was their new station: the two women were no longer mere legislators and career politicians, arguing for how best to fix the problems their galaxies faced, but the solution to said problems. Scarcity would no longer be an issue once both goddesses began to see the stars around them as little more than pale dots of lights, their waists gaining a brand new ring once they outsized their local galactic plane… once they looked to their side and saw the other one, glorious, ravishing, impossibly beautiful, both attach to the bosom of some supra-galactic hyper-deity whose tits were even bigger in comparison to their body than they had been before. More was given, until the goddesses themselves began to warp and change to better fit their new role, their own busts swelling outwards far in excess to what their forms should be able to take, filling just as much as they simply expanded, until they too could begin nourishing a brand new divine life. But theirs was a different role, a better role, in a way; for Vivian’s only job was to make herself all tingly and record smut for the sake of making her universe make some degree of sense while having some fun, while their job was not only to ensure that their lifegiving cream was distributed to all those who would need it, but to look outwards too.
After all, the Delphox would eventually go away, past the point where both minor goddesses were so colossal that they could keep the Dancers on the tip of a single finger, but those two would remain; and, as the new caretakers of their reality, it was their job to make sure that the lost golden ages would once more return, that life could flourish and thrive once again, that the darkness of the universe could once again be lit with countless bright souls.
Forever.
