#twitchy!john egbert

[twitchesandstitches]

(commission of Rose going through some feederism-induced transformation on behalf of John.)

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The Land of Wind and Shade was actually very pretty, Rose thought as she and John walked along a path lit by the luminous fungi and trees. She’d never had much opportunity to really appreciate the visual aesthetics of their worlds when they had played the Game (as they thought of it now), back before they had become gods.

It felt like a long time ago, Rose reflected as she reached into a pocket and palmed a few tiny tablets that resembled a feminine figure in profile, with a massive belly. She considered it a divide in her lifetime.

Oh, yes. It was hard, sometimes, to really recall what it was like before they had given life to a new world and all of them (her friends, Roxy and her friends, the trolls, and all who had perished in the playing of the Game) ascended to true godhood, entering the Medium as their own divine realm and free to engage with the mortal world they made, if they wished.

It had been… who knew how long? Centuries? Perhaps millennia. Rose knew it had been a while since the Mayor and his carapacian cohorts had turned up again, presumably after the end of their mortal bodies, so perhaps it had been even longer. Eventually it might be worth it to check on the mortal world and see how it was doing without their direct involvement, but for the present, it was fine enough to simply experiment.

Reality was somewhat fluid for the new gods in their divine realm. They had different ways of expressing it, and ways to experiment with it.  For some, Rose included (and again, she thought of the transformatives in her hand), that meant tweaking their bodies.

She and John walked onwards, on the surface of his world, for the noble purpose of stuffing her with as much food as possible, and Rose was rather preceded by her own stomach, which bore a lot of testament success in this field. And perhaps a lot of worship towards her in the mortal world; she wasn’t sure if that had an effect or not.

Her belly hung out in front of her. It felt good, like that, and Rose contemplated taking another one of the transformatives she’d made specifically for this task.

Now she was waddling awkwardly, still not used to a body reshaped by those specific transformatives, and for a moment she thought that she resented this being the only word choice available to her.

She didn’t hate that she was waddling, exactly. She hated that it was an awkward word; she was pedantic, and insisted on picking the most applicable terms, and unfortunately she only had something so… inelegant, to work with.

She was waddling, even so. John was even slowing down his usual frenetic pace so she wouldn’t have to hurry, which made her smile even as being outwardly happy completely went against the persona she wore.

John was… tricky, that way.

Rose, like Dave and Terezi, had a whole headful of personas she put on around other people. She tailored herself to match their expectations, or to confound them, or because it was just really funny to do. But John saw through them. Somehow he had a knack for knowing exactly when Rose was putting up a front or not.

It was exasperating, sometimes. It was fascinating, too. It felt good to have a match that just rolled right through clever wordplay and saw what she actually meant, even if her actual wordplay falling on deaf ears was disappointing.

Now Rose fell into an easy stride, John still walking at her side, and striding was easy ernough for Rose with the physical transformation she had begun to explore lately. For instance, she noticed in a distant way, her hips were getting… wider. Much, much wider, and it helped that John enjoyed feeding her as much as she liked, and it was interacting with her transformations in some very unexpected ways; she suspected that his aspect was flooding into them, influencing the tasty treats with his very particular essence of… enthusiasm, and development.

He’d kept them moving onwards, and she wondered what that kind of attribute had towards food. Certainly it encouraged the body to pile on the pounds.

Her pelvis, she was sure, had also changed shape just as her hips had grown, her hip joints modified to swivel and roll with greater ease, and with the weight piling onto her body, it made her hips nearly three feet across. And she felt the delightful weight of every step, her hips rolling and rocking as a natural counterbalance.

Her butt was a heavy weight, beneath her robes. It pushed out and flexed in as her thighs moved, and there was a smack every time her thighs came together; they were wider than John’s entire body, wider than some of the trolls even, and the clapping of her thighs was a steady rhythm behind them.

She was starting to enjoy it, actually.

Her stomach, however, was the primary focus of her growth. The transformative pills she had made had involved little capsules and pictures of progressively bigger stomachs, and alchemized in such a way so that the pills created by it would have the attributes of bellies getting bigger, with all the resonance that implied; of good food, excellent digestion, and hedonistic satisfaction.

Or so she hoped. She no longer had SBURB to experiment with, but there was a whole reality for her to mess about with and see what happened, or maybe learn its rules.

The results of her experiments so far were plain to see: Rose’s gut was hugely distended, a round marvel projecting outwards, the itch to fill it up growing stronger even with a few recent meals gurgling away in there.

Her belly hung out from the rest of her body like a medallion, gently swaying to and fro as she moved, distending the rest of her clothes to a degree exceeding her breasts. That was no small feat; her bustline extended out several feet, lower slopes hanging above her navel and her cleavage was, all the same, pushed apart by the steadily expanding mound of a belly that was getting large enough, and often stuffed enough, to make her look moderately pregnant. Her god-tier robes had been subtly altered and now her stomach slung out of a spade-shaped opening at her front, a soft globe that was very visibly churning her most recent meals.

Her gut had changed; the way it worked was still changing. Rose was intellectually aware of that, just as she also knew that something in her power was affecting her digestive tract. To truly know something was to consume it, to totally make it part of you and grasp it, with your very being, and it seemed that her body had seized the idea.

It was quite another thing, feeling the muscles of her digestive tract seize and flex like a very mobile garbage disposal unit, or enormously powerful acids sink deep into everything she ate to dissolve it into something very much like the grist they used in crafting the things of the heavens. She could feel her meals from only a few hours ago dissolving like that, and she felt…

The essence of them, she supposed, merging with her. It felt… good. The slither of essence left a lovely shiver through her entire body.

Well, she supposed, if it felt this good already, why not give it a nudge? She took the rest of her sample of transformatives and slipped them into her mouth. She moistened them up with her tongue, and then swallowed them.

They slid down without issue. She fancied she heard a faint splash as they made it into her stomach. There was no immediate result, but she didn’t expect one. You needed food to use as fuel for a big stomach; she’d made it like that on purpose. Perhaps she didn’t have to, but there was such a thing as doing it right. ‘What,’ Rose had rhetorically written down in the cosmic journals that had largely replaced the game guides she used to expound upon. ‘Is the point of making your stomach larger if you don’t even do it by getting crammed with digestibles, I do mean, REALLY.’

The pills did have a minor effect; they bubbled and forthed ferociously in her gut, interacting interestingly with the more complex digestive processes her stomach had developed on its own since she started taking them. Her belly swelled slightly with internal pressure, and it was all she could do to stifle a small burp with her free hand.

She and John kept going; he glanced at her briefly, and left her to it. Like most of the others, he took a blaise attitude towards the current trend of mixing up their bodies, even if he currently didn’t seem inclined to do it himself.

Soon the illuminated forests and walkways gave way to an entrance arch with a suitably gnarled and strange-looking sigil upon it to indicate that this had something to do with Rose.

Beyond it, lay a small complex squatting on the ground like a lost turtle. It glowed with a faint, pleasant pattern of blue light: John had somehow taken a number of the luminous trees growing on his land and broken them down, reshaping them into a living house. As they entered, Rose saw that the general layout had not changed much since last she had visited some time ago. Then it had been, and it still was, a many-chambered and sprawling estate extending into the ground and also to the sky, producing new rooms as it expanded.

It wasn’t very well organized and it would probably be hard to find where everything was situated soon enough, but Rose honestly did not mind. It was a dinner place; those chambers were filled with very extensive and experimental cooking utilities, spawned from alchemiters from photos of ovens and handwritten lists of useful attributes for ovens, shaped the outline of massive kitchens that extended for miles, down into the depths of John’s world. They always were baking something, John’s own experiments mainly laying in the fairly mundane art of baking. Granted, where his powers were concerned, even something as straightforward as baking could get very complex.

Rose wasn’t sure if the food he made might interact strangely with her own concoctions. She thought it best to see for herself!

She looked up as they traveled into the complex, where John surely had lots of food waiting to sate Rose’s appetite; her belly rumbled loudly at the thought, so loud that John visibly jumped a bit. Rose acknowledged this with a faint shrug, but she was more interested in the smells of cooking up ahead.

They came into the complex, and John was glancing at her as they eventually arrived at a splendidly decorated chamber. He glanced up at her, specifically; Rose was fairly tall among their friends, at least the human ones, and John was probably the shortest of them all; his face generally hovered (and wasn’t THAT just the best possible word) somewhere around elbow level. The word that came to mind describing him, Rose mused, was ‘plush’; yes, she thought. Just like a plushy. He was thickly build and broad all around, but he was quite short and didn’t look terribly muscular. The effect was that of someone apparently designed for huggability.

Absently, she did just that, looping an arm around a compact but very strong shoulder and leaned slightly into him. The sudden motion tilted one of her massive hips against him, the swell of a huge butt check pressing on his waist.

He put an arm around her waist, in unconscious and perfect synchrony with her. She felt his pulse quicken, and at the periphery of awareness that her powers influenced, she felt the vague notion of thoughts blur across his mind. Not mind-reading, as such; she saw the potential that those thoughts embodied, or at least knew of them. They revealed themselves to her, like a sun rising overhead.

Such was the nature of Light.

Her belly rumbled again and Rose’s face shifted. It was genuinely pleasuable

John misinterpreted it. He looked up at her, around the curve of one huge breast, his expression adorably helpful. “Is your belly thing going okay?”

Rose smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sniffed the air, and her belly rumbled demandingly as the mass of her meal was transmuted into physical flesh, and her belly protruded a few inches outward.

The sudden growth made her steps falter.

John took a hard step to the side, and Rose found their trail meandering away. “Hey!” She started to say, and John just kept going, and despite being so much taller than him, despite being a lot heavier than him, she was helpless to control their momentum.

John gently brought her to a chair. “Do you want me to rub your belly?” He asked as he helped her down, the chair transforming to take in her exceptionally broad backside.

Rose’s immediate response was to simply deny any discomfort. This was thwarted by the greater urge, more powerful in recent days, to enjoy being pampered. Her mouth was still forming around the words as she said, “Actually, that sounds quite nice.”

She let herself flatten back, her broad thighs spreading wider as if lounging in some sort of overlord’s throne. Her belly hung out. For a moment she wondered if her sense of her own body was feeling askew or not, as her belly felt even bigger than it had a few moments ago. Surely that was just an illusion, spawned from her still adjusting to a new tweak to her body?

The outer curve of her stomach kept going, sliding against the cool air. She thought she felt it brushing against the tops of her legs, short of her knees, all while the sensation of growth made the whole of her belly a pleasant warmth.

She felt her belly growing, more and more. Doubtfully, she supposed she might have oversizing or undersizing its actual dimensions, and supposed it didn’t much matter. She really liked the idea of her belly being particularly big, and supposed a bit of guesswork on her part would throw anything off much.

Further speculation was halted as John pressed his hands against her stomach. It might have been the power of Breath within his body, or the intimacy of such an action, but his hands felt so warm and soft, moving against her bare skin with a wild thrill that felt so good, she had to resist the urge to force his hands still, or to squeeze against her body just so she could relish the sensation.

For a moment her eyes, and much of her body, glowed like a solar furnace, light pulsing out of her body, and then she mastered it, so that John only saw her glow like a whole body blush. “You get embarrassed easy!” he said, teasingly.

“Oh, you can think that if you want,” Rose said lightly, and gasped as he slowly moved his hands across the outer surface of her stomach, fingers kneading so deeply that it stirred against the transforming walls of her gut.

He didn’t say anything, but she could feel him smiling. Teasing smugness radiated off him, and she gave him points for deserving it there, at least.

Rose still sat up then, mastering the urge to simply lay back and let him rub her stomach, but oh, it was a powerful urge. Briefly, she imagined herself as an immensely bloated figure, without visible limbs, with nothing but an enormous belly that needed to be filled, and a great mouth ringed in huge lips for more food to be slipped down, and John a little fairy filling her up.

It ought to have been frightening. But at the thought of laying back, of food constantly sliding down her throat and making her belly constantly bigger and bigger and BIGGER, all while John orbited about to tend to her every need and whim…

Oh, yes. It was an attractive thought, at the root.

Slowly, without realizing it, she lay back, until she was lounging properly. If she were honest with herself (and honesty was not often a trait associated with those who awoke within Derse), she really didn’t care that much about keeping up appearances. At this point, it was just another habit she was gradually starting to shed.

John’s fingers slid up and around her belly, his strong fingers making intricate patterns on her just above her navel, his Breath power pulsing out into her stomach and accelerating the digestive process. Rose breathed in, and when she exhaled, the noise she made was a languorous and very satisfied sound, flush with the reality patterns of her meals fully melting into her as John’s powers sped up the whole process, mixing together in a very pleasant way.

But of course, adept fingers alone do not make for a completely ideal belly rub. His palms pressed in, deeply, his wrists flexing his hands to sink deeper into the meat of her gut, pressing against the inner walls in just the right way to really stimulate them, and Rose absently patted her own stomach, feeling a warm and fuzzy feeling.

It was hard to keep her hands off her stomach. It felt nicer to have someone else’s hands… admiring her handiwork.

John’s hands made their way down, in steady and experienced movements. Rose’s belly got bigger every time he did this, but he knew her belly all the same. It got bigger, yeah, but he knew it. The places to slide his palms to please her, the areas near her sides where she was almost ticklish, the spots near there that were just perfect for stimulating her digestion and relieved a belly ache, or a recalcitrant bit of quintessence that just would not dissolve properly.

His hounds came to those places, and he was so intent that he didn’t really notice her stomach slowly growing outwards. His hands sank deep into the ticklish spots, just enough to almost bother her, and deftly moving away to safer grounds.

Her stomach swelled a few steps outwards, closer to John, almost pressing directly against him. Absently, too focused to realize it, he stepped aside and rotated his hands against a sweet spot or two, and Rose rewarded him with a happy little noise that put a huge smile on his face.

Then, he tended to the source of the rumbling; with Rose’s pleasure still occupying important spots in his mind, he grew more attuned to her needs and the intricacies of her body, and was in a position to realize that her wobbling belly was growing faster than he was used to at this point.

He placed his hands down in a spot where he would normally rub deep and make little circles in, and he laid them down well enough. Before he could actually do anything more with that, though, her expanding flesh carried his hands apart as her belly widened.

Now John stepped back, completely on instinct, reflexes wired for just this sort of thing, and Rose’s belly still kept coming, sliding right into him and pushing him back even further.

It flowed over her legs. Her breasts, though still quite big, looked improbably small compared to the teeming flesh rising in front of him with a keen sense of demanding need. It rose up, so high and curved that it seemed to be trying to inflate itself.

John stepped back again as her belly kept steadily expanding outwards.

For Rose, the sense of pleasure faded. She felt a curious swelling, though, throughout her entire stomach, and a sense of personal space extending outwards. For some reason, John’s hands felt smaller, before he moved away.

“Um, Rose?” John’s voice called out.

Rose closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling without pondering on it too much.

“Your belly just got super big.”

The sensation continued, so pleasantly that it was a struggle for Rose to open her eyes. She glanced down, unaware of her back gradually sliding backwards against her seat until she was truly laying back, and felt, rather than saw, her stomach growing.

It was not an abrupt thing, as was often the case with these things; that was a later thought, of course. In the moment, her sharp mind faltered and stared out as her stomach slowly expanded outwards, its outer curves rising upwards as well. Her belly glowed, radiating the power of Light and shining like a star in its own right, the same faint orange as the robes hanging off her pin-up body.

Her stomach kept sliding outwards. It’s growing girth moved over her thighs and dipped out past her chair, warm air sliding across her new flesh. It wobbled faintly as she breathed in hard, trying to find words to express alarm and curiosity at this, but… it felt good. It felt really, really good. Rose squirmed in unexpected pleasure, the thrill of digestion gradually fading in favor of the new sensation of her stomach growing so rapidly that, yes, it was rising upwards, right into her field of view, and was starting to interfere with what she could actually see.

It occurred to her that John’s hands had moved back to her belly, even as it was reaching to the floor. Her stomach was quickly starting to get bigger than her, and John was standing up and slowly scooting back, but his hands were still firmly sunk into her stomach. Rose felt a surge of pleasure from the slight adjustments in him moving against her, and made a decision.

“Well?” She said archly, and stifled another swelling belch rising up from deep in her. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

“Is this supposed to be happening?” John asked. He didn’t sound alarmed, now, that Rose wasn’t either; possibly he felt that as far as he knew, stuff like this happened all the time and he hadn’t seen it yet.

“I don’t know about ‘supposed’,” Rose said, deciding to try to play it off. “We’ve never bothered with that sort of thing. But I would like it if you kept doing what you were doing.” She leaned to the side, just enough that John could see her face where her huge breasts and the person-sized, massive gut sprawling across the floor wouldn’t obstruct it. She smiled at him, softly, eyes half-lidded and thick lips quirked at both corners. “So, would you get back to it?”

John swallowed audibly. “Well, if you say so!” His palms sank in deeply again, and Rose groaned in pleasure as they found new regions to roam across her belly, sliding downwards, nearly to the floor where they rested. The traveling motion of his hands stirred other motions across her stomach, the copious fat rippling as he moved, and it did so with so much force that it traveled up and down her new expanded gut.

Just like a ripple. The push of his hands, the lovely ways he rubbed against her gut, was amplified by the rippling, all over her belly, and she made more low noises in unthinking response, her stomach glowing faintly in response. Oh, but that felt perfect.

John kept rubbing; either her stomach was structured in a way to apply the force evenly, his Breath powers were making his rubbing continue onwards past the point he was actually touching, or perhaps a blend of the two. But as he scooted to one side where there was still a fair bit of rumbling for him to knead at, her stomach kept sliding outwards. It kept growing upwards, with ever more capacity to slide in more of his delicious food.

Rose leaned back, barely aware of losing hold of the ideas of relentless self-control that had kept her in an uncomfortable position on the chair until her belly had gotten bigger. This felt better, as far as she was concerned. She felt her stomach sliding outwards, so that it was rapidly getting close to somewhere around her own size in overall length and width, and it felt so nice that she honestly was not concerned. It did, however, feel rather empty.

Her eyes slowly opened as pangs of hunger started to grow, outweighing even the pleasures of John tending to her belly. “You had some food cooking, yes?” She said, dreamily.

John paused, his hands sunk into her belly nearly to the elbow. “Um, yeah?”

“Go get me some, would you? As much as you can carry.”

John floated up, made a little mock bow, and flitted away, a zephyr in human form.

He came back shortly afterwards. Plates of food hovered around him; not carried in each hand, but levitating about him, and without the restrictions of just two arms to carry it, he was able to bring several dozen in, loaded with all the tastiest treats he’d experimented with at the time.

“I wasn’t sure what you, specifically, might have wanted,” John said. “So I got a little bit of everything!”

Rose’s belly was no longer growing. She barely noticed. The air was thick with sweet smells and sugary tastes, warm smells laden with the distinctive after-tastes of frosting and chocolates, and undertones of milkshakes, fruits coated with impossible layers sculpted into genuine statues via the medium of chocolate and caramel, edible works of art…

“Oh, that smells interesting,” She said aloud, intrigued by what he’d worked up this time. “I must see for myself. Well, not see, but taste is a much more forensic sort of examination than just giving it a smack with your eyes.”

“That’s a horrible mental image. I like it!” John came over, with his many sweets, and sat in mid-air next to Rose, the scent maddening and she knew that he was perfectly aware of it, and just teasing her by sitting there and not giving him a single thing. What a brilliant move, on his part!

(It was entirely possible that John had no idea that Rose expected everyone else to make their every social move as brilliantly calculated as her own, and was not deliberately teasing her. It was also possibly that he knew damn well that she would think he was, and did so accordingly. It was hard to tell, with him!)

Gurgles and rumbles from deep within the expanded regions of her gut, the considerably reworked complexities of her digestive tract, and a more prosaic desire for tasty treats all got the better of Rose. She held herself back as long as possible, playing the part of a refined opponent, and finally she could take no more, and wildly reached out for the nearest piece of cake. John floated just out of reach. Normally, she would have been fine to keep it going for a while, enjoying the game of competition, clashing wits and personalities like a chess game (though not actual chess; having known carapacians, chess was now an uncomfortable exercise), but the thought of getting stuff through her throat and down her belly was too tempting.

“Very well, I give in!” She blurted out, and that was quite the surrender, coming from her.

John was still floating away. There was a terrible look of mischief about him. “What’s the magic word~?” He teased, floating almost close enough for her to pull him towards her.

“Please, and do please hurry with the treats already!” She almost begged.

“Aww. Okay…!” John floated in now, gently taking a seat in the air right next to her, just high enough that his hands could transfer things from plates to her mouth with ease. He admitted he was a little intimidated, and he tried not to look directly at the teeming massives of her breasts, or the gigantic sphere of her belly. Some part of him kept thinking ‘did I do that?’ and he was trying not to think about how nice it would be to lay down on her belly, listening to her digest.

He noticed Rose looking directly at him. Her expression shifted a little; the look of raw need and frustration had just a hint of wickedness in there. Her lips had changed, he realized; they’d grown immensely thick, puffing out into the kind of thick forms you normally associated with balloons. She raised an eyebrow, in that special Rose way of communicating a lot just with a little quirk.

“No mind reading or you won’t get any candy apples!” He said, with an adorable scowl.

Rose chuckled. “One, I don’t read minds, and two, I really don’t have to. You’re easy to figure out.”

“Hmph.” He picked up the plate, which did in fact have candy apples, and he selected one at complete random, holding it by the uncoated stem he used for handles. Gently he maneuvered it to Rose’s face, just above purple-painted lips three inches thick.

He expected her to take a bite; he did not expect her to gently put her lips against it and suck in. Whatever had changed her stomach had also altered the pressure that went into her lips, not to mention the flexibility of her jaw. Her lips flowed around the apple, saliva coating it as they slid completely around it in one smooth movement, her jaws stretching to fit the whole thing into her mouth at once, and then she slurped it into her mouth, plucking it right out of John’s hands.

“Eep!” John squeaked. Rose silently crunched the apple in her mouth, cheeks bulging but showing no sign of discomfort. She kept her eyes locked on him the whole time, her expression worryingly intent. A few hints of saliva oozed against her lips in the heat of her confectionary pleasure, and were slurped back in. Her eyes fluttered as she took in the delicious flavors of the candied apple, the way caramel and fruit blended together in ways amplified by John’s power to make a true taste sensation that a mortal simply couldn’t hope to imitate.

“Mm,” she murmured, after gulping the whole thing down at once, her belly wobbling slightly as it took it all in. “More.”

John nervously gave her another apple. Rose tilted her mouth up and sucked it in more slowly, but also sucked in his fingers too; her lips engulfed them, and pinned them there. John found that Rose’s mouth was very warm, and incredibly moist; as the apple traveled down her throat to never be seen again, the entirety of her lips pressed warmly against his fingers and then the rest of his hand as she drew it into her mouth, holding it there for a moment, and then let it go with a sound suspiciously like a kiss.

“Mm, you still have sugar on your fingers,” Rose said, eyes half-lidded. John was not quite blushing, but he was having a hard time meeting her eyes. She smiled a bit broader at that; it was nice to get one over on him.

“Well, at least you like it, right?” He said, giving her another apple. She ate it without complaint, and the next one he did, and still another went between her teeth, and soon she had polished off the entire plate. The apples were gurgling away in her belly, and she still needed more.

“Go on,” she said warmly. “Fill my stomach up, why don’t you? I’ve more than enough capacity for everything you have?”

“Challenge accepted!” John brought down more plates, picking up a slice of pie and placing it into Rose’s open mouth, and watching with fascination as she slowly chewed it, each flex of her jaw so slow that she plainly was savoring each bite.

She ate slowly, like someone taking a very long time to read a book; all in order to properly appreciate each and every detail, digesting full awareness of it to the last detail. It was the most intense way he’d ever seen someone eat his food; as if with the food in her mouth, there was nothing in all the world but his food. Her eyes closed when she swallowed, throat swelling up in huge gulps, and she radiated such satisfied pleasure that he briefly felt a surge of grand accomplishment.

And then, silently, with her expression alone, she asked for more.

The plates were emptied, one at a time; despite their number, Rose’s appetite grew so ferocious that she devoured everything on them without any sign of growing full despite the massive portions. It was gluttonous, like Terezi or Nepeta during the occasional communal dinner they had (usually corresponding to feast days in their honor, on the mortal world), but it was not ferocious; Rose did not wolf down her food or gorge on it, or try to force entire plates down all at once, as if her belly being emptied was an offense to her and all she had worked for.

No; Rose worked to occupy her belly. One slice of pie at a time, or a fraction of cake, as if taking in residents to a newly opened luxury home complex that required as many people as possible without being too much in a rush. She ate slowly and calmly, savoring every moment of it, and when she swallowed, it was loud. John had heard bells that were quieter, and like a bell, it signaled something. In this case, that she was very pleased with his offering.

He could have sworn he heard a faint, muffled echo after she swallowed. As if he heard the mouthful splashing into place in her belly.

Gulp after gulp, time went by, and both of them were scarcely aware of time passing as it did. Rose was lost in the pleasures of sweetness, tasing every metaphysical connection that went into the sweets, and each mouthful lost her in a world of deceptively calm-looking joy. John found his own satisfaction in feeding her; she loved what he was feeding her, so much, and he felt… proud of it.

And he was noticing that as they worked through the plates, her belly was getting even bigger. It gurgled loudly, of a different character than before. Then, it had wanted more to fill itself with, but now, it seemed to him that these were happy noises; the sounds of a satisfied gut, and that was something that made him feel even more proud of his handiwork.

His nature as a god of Breath felt a sense of imminence coming from her belly, though; something was going on that neither of them were quite aware of, and John felt it coming. He figured that Rose had it handled, though. She always knew what to do.

Her belly swelled larger, and emptied plates (devoid even of crumbs) lay in a neat tower near them both. The tower rose higher and higher, but even once they were all totally cleaned off, they weren’t as high up as Rose’s stomach. It had grown even bigger, sprawling out further as the feeding had progressed; each mouthful adding to its girth. It wasn’t even particularly smooth anymore, flexing and squashing in random directly as tremendously powerful muscle action crunched its contents into a fine grist to be dissolved ever more efficiently, and the power of Light flooded from her body, so that radiant pulses fluxed through.

“Mm-mmm,” Rose said softly as her breasts, now growing large enough to outsize her own torso, towering upwards. They were still small compared to her belly. Even with all the frenetic movement, it was still growing, though more slowly now. The pace of it was a pleasure all its own, a sweet friction from inside her own body and reshaping it to more efficiently be an absolutely ideal glutton.

Food dissolved alarmingly fast, mixing in with fluids and enzymes entirely unique to Rose’s divine body. It dissolved so quickly that it was building up quite a lot of gas, making her belly swell up once more. The skin of it grew firm, the pressure pushing against the inside of her stomach so much that the tightly packed shapes of her food was obscured, her gut turning almost completely round. It was hard to say how much internal gas that was; it was certainly enough to power a small, person-sized hot air balloon at the least, and in a distant way, that was precisely how Rose felt.

Rose’s eyes widened. Propriety that she unthinkingly complied with demanded that she stifle it, right now, before she did something embarrassing, while at the same time a part of her that really did enjoy not caring so much about image demanded to know ‘for what purpose?’. She tried to find a compromise, placing her hand over her mouth to muffle what she was certain would be a truly memorable belch.

Up it went, ascending like the jetpacks John had once used. Her throat swelled up with the weight of it; her breasts rose and fell as it went up her body, and her cheeks bulged when she clamped her mouth shut, realizing too late that this would be loud-

Her lips, though enormous and powerful enough to turn a milk carton inside out with a single sucking swig, were not strong enough to hold the belch back.

It roared out of her like more a force than an actual sound, wet and dripping as it left her mouth and existed in the world for a long moment. It was a shame John didn’t have any windows in that complex, because then they could have rattled in a way that could satisfy Rose’s sense for drama; it wouldn’t have actually helped the situation, but it would have sounded cool. Stone trembled as the noise went on, so loudly that it silenced every other noise around it, and her gut visibly deflated slightly as the pressure abated. Various chairs actually fell over from the force of it.

And, finally, it faded away, leaving a warm sensation in Rose’s body.

“Excuse me,” she said, daubing at her mouth in the midst of the ensuing silence.

John started to learn forward to say something, and then Rose sighed softly. “Oh,” she said, not exactly wincing but looking fairly alarmed all the same. “That’s an unusual feeling.” She put her hands to the closest bits of rolls and chub that anchored her belly to her body, and squeezed tightly, shutting her eyes.

There was something else coming; another grand change, fueled by the consumption, by her desires, and set off by the burp. Things happened in little steps and then came all at once with the right things to trigger them; she knew this.

And she thought; it was very nice to lean back in this chair. It would be nicer still to not require the chair, for maximum hedonism.

This thought went on its way, and perhaps it gave the surge of sudden physical transformation a specific route to use, a keyword to direct it. She might have already been about to take on the incoming form anyway, and the thought was just a reflection of underlying impulses that heralded it. She didn’t know for sure, and later, it was maddening.

Rose lurched forwards, her legs moving sluggishly beneath her robes and belly. The latter obscured them more effectively as Rose actually managed to get off her chair, floating upwards and then landing with a crash onto the ground. Her stomach softened her landing, and she slid backwards off it onto the ground. The back of her robes flared up, wobbling and shifting alarmingly.

“Uh, should I be looking away-” John started to say, the dimples and outlines of Rose’s butt against her robes growing much more outlined.

The growth interrupted him. Her backside, probably responding to her happiness with reclining so much, grew. Not quite as slowly as her backside, either, swelling out in a great explosion of flesh. Her legs grew shorter as her butt expanded, but it didn’t actually change anything in her height. She just wobbled back and forth, trying to maintain her balance as her butt fluxed outwards, projecting out from her body like a living bustle from Victorian fashion, and kept growing bigger.

It rose up to her waist, and a little bit higher than that, and flared outwards; so big that the sides were as broad as the rest of her body, not confined entirely by her hips. Her butt kept growing, expanding so that it was almost bigger than the rest of her body. It smacked against the ground, taller now than John himself, and Rose leaned back into it, her face almost as shocked as John’s.

Her gut dwarfed it, even so. It didn’t seem to grow larger, apart from the constant state of perpetual expansion it had been showing for some time now, but that was an academic point, given how big it actually was now. Her breasts hung high upon it, and Rose leaned into it, suspended between butt and belly for a perfect balance.

Her legs trembled, and it was hard to see them. Rose frowned, as if puzzled, at a curious cool sensation of her legs. Soon it faded, and she found that she couldn’t feel anything to do with her legs at all. She expanded her perceptions, and gasped aloud. Her legs had fused together, joined in the middle and flowing into a single piece of extended body. While useless for walking, that soon became an irrelevant point: the bones of her legs dissolved, her legs becoming a shapeless mass that hung beneath her.

Any sense of horror was cut off by a pleasurable feeling, like warm nudges coming from inside her. It felt like a sense of pressure too, not unlike that preceding the massive belch that had set off this transformation. The length where her legs had been expanded and swelled out, growing even larger than her upper body and almost as big as her butt, widening out into a sort of living base for her entire body. It was invitingly round, a living sofa for her body to recline into, and it kept expanding until it was twice as broad around as her body. Still dwarfed by her belly, but as she wobbled in place with a few more minor alterations to her stature, she remained stable, and lounged into it.

Rose shifted in place, blinking furiously. She glanced down, her robes exposing quite a lot of flesh below her. Her backside felt very well aired, and her new… base? Podium? Stand? Whatever she might call it, it was certainly supporting her.

Any bewilderment or horror at the transformation was numbed; she was more curious than alarmed. She wiggled in place. Yes; there was something almost liquid within her there, bearing her weight like a living mattress, adjusting itself to her body to avoid any cramps or feelings of discomfort.

She kept wobbling herself, in fact. It felt fun.

Her whole body felt very nice, actually. “Well, that was interesting!” Rose said, feeling herself for any traces of more genuinely inhuman transformation. Well, besides the obvious, of course. She examined herself; massive belly and butt, that puffy lower body base… she looked like a person built of orbs, and she thought it looked very nice on her.

“Rose!?” John floated around her, with the frantic energy normally associated with a hummingbird realizing too late that a diet had been a poor decision. “What happened to you!? Are you okay!?”

“I would say so, yes!” Rose adjusted herself. She turned very easily, her belly dragging on the ground and knocking several chairs and display desks over, folding them into its squishy depths. Feeling those solid objects deep in her belly-skin felt great; so much hard rigidity, shifting against her in all the right ways… oh, that was an interesting sensation.

John slowly floated to the ground. “My food makes people puffy and bloated,” He said, in tones of grave horror. “Why did no one warn me that could happen!?”

“No, no, it wasn’t any quality of your cooking,” Rose said absently, leaning into her massive belly. She was going to need some other means of getting around, but somehow, staying put seemed very attractive. Just enjoying John’s company, and the possibilities offered by her new, lovely body.

She still couldn’t keep her hands off her stomach. It felt so nice to touch, like a massive erogenous zone.

“It was me,” she said, still feeling shockingly calm. She turned towards John, smirking faintly. He looked a little lower on the ground; her new puffy base must have given her a few extra feet in height.

He blinked. His eyes had the glazed look of one trying to process something big, and fit the new Rose into his understanding of the world.

Eventually he said, in patient tones, “Uh. Okay, but. Uh. But, but why, though.”

Rose shrugged, and put her hands right back on her belly where she felt they belonged. “But why not?”

John raised a finger to make a point. He thought about it. He frowned. He lowered the finger. “Fair enough, I guess?”

[twitchesandstitches]

Dragonrezi Gets Even Bigger Comm

A commission for @alt-hammer, of the Dragonrezi from one of my earlier fic concepts of a fantasy AU that featured Vriska as a conquering giant sorceress and Terezi as a dragon monster girl she tried to wrangle into being her familiar,and Karkat as a plaything to placate Terezi; comm-er wanted to see some elaboration on it and Terezi getting even bigger! (A link to that earlier story!)

Featuring some implied JohnVris, this round!

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In the most magically scarred continent of the world, recent wars in the homelands of long-gone troll empires had left the whole place a chaotic mess, filled with ruins, warlords and all manner of danger. From one perspective, it was a bad situation; monsters formed from magic and taking shape from the most powerful spell-users around regularly came out of nowhere, most cities and towns didn’t last more than a few days, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to immobilize themselves by making themselves too busty to move with the wrong application of magic, which tended to have consequences for their villages.

But to those intent on putting some kind of order on the world, it was an opportunity. To build new empires, to uncover the mysteries of the old ones, and to grow strong.

(Terezi Pyrope felt it was best to bide your time, and steer the course of things. All of these things, she would do in time, but she would work with things first.)

Now, consider one of the more stable lands in recent times: the Cerulean Kingdoms, the Serket lands. Statues across its beaches, floating sea-cities and cliff-side realms portrayed the image of a sorceress queen, as impossibly curvaceous and busty as only the strongest of magic users were. In truth this sorceress and her friends, and rivals, were a hidden society and adventuring party when the times were right, and they all shared her distinctive figure as a consequence of sufficient magical power and expertise. Kanaya, scion of the vampires, her belly swollen with converts to vampirism… Aradia of the Megido necromancers, her own body eternally pregnant with the countless souls she gestated new bodies for in a form of resurrection. And the others, equally huge and curvy in their own unique ways, from Feferi the life-crafting witch to Jade the wolfish witch of the wilds…

And Vriska Serket, who hoped to be the biggest and most powerful to make her mark on the world, and trying so very hard to outdo her own dragon familiar, Terezi Pyrope.

The boundaries of her lands were easy enough to make out, as her magical palace flew over her lands. A grand construct of sapphire gems grown with her powers, black metal and shimmering stones imbued with raw magic, the gigantic citadel was unbelievably massive and it eclipsed some mountains as it flew over her lands and seas, though never past her boundaries, unable to move past the limits of her power. And, somehow, it was even bigger on the inside. Statues of herself stood at attention on the elaborately carved exteriors, a mirror to the ones in her towns and cities.

The statues did not quite do her justice; capturing the incredibly stylized robes, jackets and web-themed skirts of Vriska’s regal attire was a tricky enough affair, but to get across just how… buxom Vriska was? That was really not doable. You started with something shaped like a violin, made the wide bits as large as you possibly could, and then you made then even bigger than that… and by this point you gave up, because mere stone tended to crumble underneath the weight of such curves. She was thick, even by the standards of magical users.

To hear that Vriska Serket, queen of the sea-lands, might feel inadequate, was laughable. Who would she possibly feel skinny next to? And for an answer, they would point at the far, far larger statues of Terezi, which were not attached to the Citadel. They were the Citadel, at least its walls.

Within the Citadel, Vriska’s latest plan was coming to fruition.

Smirking in a way appropriate to the mightiest sorceress this side of the universities frequented by the Maryam Clan in their oasis on the other side of the known continent, she waved a hand at the twenty thousand undead soldiers carrying the artifact. She didn’t need to speak to command them, but she instinctively felt that there were some things you just had to do. “Put it down here.”

Zombies, mechanically-reinforced skeletons, the occasional feral ghost and a few enthralled mindless vampires (unrelated to the Maryam Clan, though possibly spawned from a similar process) all moved in a great mass and lowered the ancient arcane battery into a special pedestal. In a wave it clicked down, and they flowed away, their thousands of steps briefly obscuring the potent ritual patterns encircling the relic.

Here, in her floating citadel, Vriska was at her strongest. This was her place; arcane geometries channeled the power right into her, specially carved spires collected magic from the air and diverted it into the mystical foodstuffs that would be fed to her; the air itself rumbled with potential, and it discharged into her.

She smiled, fangs dimpling her thick lips, and strode off. Her undead minions (a gift from a friend, a necromancer called Damara Megido, who Vriska had helped with a serious academic question) trailed after her. It was difficult to tell if they could feel anything, but as her hourglass-shaped body moved, robes tightly conforming to her massive hips, their gazes were fixed on her. She went through a door shaped to permit her gigantic hips and breasts, and the undead followed, as did a small human all in blue.

Vriska stopped, and leaned down. Three hundred feet of troll leaned down, and her breasts hit the ground before her knees did. The human, John Egbert, stopped as a genuine valley of cleavage appeared before him and he peered up into the mightiest sorceress alive; famed for her ruthlessness, her limitless hunger for power, and so it might have been surprising for her rivals to see the indulgent look her face.

Vriska’s face softened even more as she picked him up, apparently on impulse; he didn’t seem to mind being held captive in a metallic prosthesis of magically resonant metals. Lips as wide around as a street to him pressed on him in a soft kiss, and he smooched her back as best as he could. Vriska put him down, and spoke. “John, gonna need you to stay here for a while until the ritual is complete.”

John nodded. “Okay, ma’am!” he saluted her, in the fashion he thought was expected of an apprentice to a magical teacher. “So… what do I do?”

Vriska made a grumpy noise. “Keep Terezi out of here! I just know that pain in my splendid ass is gonna show up and try to hog all the power boost for herself. So when, not if, when she shows up to, I don’t know, try to eat it or something, get her out!”

John saluted with a slightly worried expression. “I’ll… do what I can!” Vriska grinned, and left. Her building-sized heels clicked against the ground and her undead army followed. The door closed, with an appropriately satisfying bang. He had spent some hours weaving drama spells so get that sound just right!

He waited, dutifully, and marked the way the word-spells around the magical battery slowly increased. To pass the time, he tried to recall just where the thing had come from. Unfortunately history was not really his expertise; it was apparently a troll artifact from one of the bygone civilizations that hadn’t survived the sorcery wars of ancient times. He knew it stored magic (a truly horrific amount of it, and Vriska’s intentions were to deprive enemies of the chance to weaponize it, AND to also enhance her powers and beauty). And he knew that it looked a little bit like something he’d like to put on a stick and smack monsters around with. It had a cool look to it. It’d probably make a funny sound, too!

There was a small, teal lizard on the ceiling that had come there when he had been distracted. Privately, the lizard mused that maybe Vriska had a bit too much confidence in her human.

John contemplated the pros and cons of using it to make a magic hammer that would absorb magic but put some of that magic into making comedy sound effects whenever you hit something with it. The word-spell around it and all over the room were well along by this point, and they shone the liquid blue of Vriska’s magic.

He did feel the swell of enchantment, and he stepped back in surprise. The swell blurred his magical senses, and he experienced the mystical equivalent of something going ‘???’; all his more mystical senses went blank from overload, and he desperately stepped back as light flooded from the relic, briefly materializing into solidified wild magic. Fortunately, before it could erupt into any number of hazardous monsters or destructive disasters, it was grounded and safety channeled into the Citadel.

No, he thought, with a smile. Into the word-spell, and thus, into Vriska! He thought of all this power going to her… into her, and he goggled at the thought of when he’d see her next, at her full size!

She was three hundred feet now, and already such an hourglass-shaped beauty; he couldn’t imagine what she’d be like, but he did his best.

Thus distracted, he did not notice the lizard descending downwards and changing shape, expanding to a much larger form. He did hear, behind and above him, a very soft noise. He glanced up suspiciously, a faint suggestion of titanic movement drawing his attention, and saw nothing more. The walls and ceiling of the magic room vaulted high up, with many curving supports that would be ideal for strong claws to punch right into.

He paused. He didn’t recall that particular bit of ceiling looking so… leathery.

It unfurled, and the ceiling came down.

The world crashed about him, and as a looming force reached lazily for him, John squeaked as claws plucked him up. The ceiling hadn’t fallen down! Something really big, on the ceiling, just dropped down!

Or, to be specific, a really, really big someone.

The feminine form now filling up a good portion of the room was built on similar lines to Vriska but… bigger. Vriska had an hourglass body type, counterbalanced by her massive mane of hair, while the humanoid dragon, her gorgeous face a pleasing mix of troll and dragonish features, was… motherly. Girthy. A huge pair of wings swept around her, along with an enormously thick tail. Scales and golden shapes studded her body, from toe claws to horns, so that every inch of her shone, armored in her own splendor. A big belly propped up a pair of breasts even bigger than Vriska’s, and she had a lot of very solid muscles underneath the softness.

And oh yes; if Vriska was three hundred feet tall, than her dragon familiar, Terezi Pyrope, was… bigger. So much bigger, indeed. Terezi grinned at John, and around her the chamber telescoped outwards. There were potent enchanting spells to make rooms bigger to fit anyone who might be in them, but Terezi had a talent for pushing them to their limits. Her red eyes stared down at him, dull and blinded in some ancient paladin’s oath, but her smile was full of sharp teeth, and very snidely aware.

“So,” she said, as he realized too late that the little lizard in the room had been the exact same color as the teal monster girl sitting in the room right here. “You’re gonna stop me, huh?”

John wasn’t particularly scared, even in the grip of a dragon woman known to devour entire castles whole. Over five thousand feet tall from claw to horn bases, she looked very much like a troll; scales instead of chitin, her black skin tinted a vibrant shade of teal, and a thick dragonish tail sprouted from her massive backside just as a pair of huge wings furled around her so much like a fancy cloak. There were other signs; the crackling pathways of power along her throat and chest, where her breath weapons were powered up, the digitigrade legs just like a bird’s… and the big claws on her hands and feet. Bit funny to forget that, considering that he was pinched between them.

It was a bit like having some very pointy buildings hugging you into compliance. John wriggled politely. “Uh… yeah, absolutely! Let me up so we can have our fight!”

Terezi grinned at him. Leaning WAY over so he could see her. A truly buxom monster, she had to adjust herself so that her gold-studded breasts could shift out of the way, propped up on her big belly so they looked even bigger. Those boobs were huge, sticking out over five hundred feet out, the scales studded with the contents of an entire hoard to decorate her maternal body. She had to lean over just so he could see her, and his heart skipped a beat as she spoke, her enormous blue-green lips shaping so perfectly around her words. “Nah. Be a good boy and hold still so I can go do the thing.”

“Uh.” He lowered his fist. “Um. First, what are you planning on doing…?”

Terezi inclined her head at the artifact. “Guess.”

“...No way!”

She just grinned in reply, a clear ‘yes!’.

“Terezi, no!”

“Terezi yes!”

“I’ll stop you!” he cried valiantly.

Terezi smirked. “Vriska’s tiny hero rises to her defense! Honestly, I love it. You’re probably a great influence on her. Buuuuuut…. I don’t really wanna deal with that right now.”

She breathed out, and her breath was infused with the magic inherent to dragons. She cast a spell, not with lore or divine connection, but with her innate connection to the forces of magic, and her breath became a bubble. It flowed around John and he floated up into the air, yelling helplessly at her. The bubble contracted and twist as his wind magic tore at it from the inside, it bounced as he turned momentum into super speed and flight, but all his power wasn’t enough to overcome the micro-fraction of her power that she put into the bubble.

If she wished, she could have burned the continent to the bedrock without much effort. Sealing away an apprentice boy, even one in service to a living goddess-sorcerer, was hardly a challenge. But she liked to give herself something to test herself against later. “Tell ya what. As a present for standing up to me, I won’t just eat the damn thing. I’ll leave Vriska a TINY something. But all this,” and she gave one enormous hip a healthy, lusty smack, making various pats of her body jiggle enticingly. “Is a much better destination for its power than stroking Vrisky’s ego!”

“Kind of hypocritical for YOU To be talking about ego!” John said as Terezi lightly batted him with a finger that was, to him, larger than a building.

A claw bigger than a walkway smacked into him again and again, thoughtfully. “Okay that’s fair,” Terezi said, and then snorted. “But I don’t really care~!”

With a cheerful swagger, her tail smacking a few pillars around in such a way that she somehow carved her name into them like a signature, Terezi stepped right into the circle, so large that one toe filled up the whole thing. John beat and hollered at his little prison, and summoned forth the wind magic that was an expression of his fundamental tendency for powers of movement and direction both physical and abstract.

The bubble flew, at incredible force, right towards a patch of scales. Unfortunately that patch was on her butt, which was very well padded, and so he bounced off harmlessly. With such force that he impacted into the wall, cracking it, and there he was stuck. John’s powers just didn’t work if he was stuck!

Terezi’s thick, muscular tail waggled at him tauntingly, and swung up to slap her own butt. First the left side of one massive hip, and then the other, making it wobble and jiggle in hill-sized ripples; John blushed, angry and aroused at so much titanic butt. You could build a castle on all of it! And so, he was a bit too preoccupied with her dangerous flirting to realize that the blue magic lines were turning teal.

Magical colors were a personal thing. They indicated the influence of a magic user, the literal color of their soul as it entered the world. Reality WAS magic, shaped and codified into substance, concepts, forms. And color? Well, that was just light, but people saw color, and it meant things to them, and perspective was really all that counted in magic. So with magic users, the color of your soul shone forth when your power waxed mightily.

And when Terezi bothered to put even the slightest smidgen of effort, her magic made her shine like a sun.

Intricate patterns appeared on her scales and hide, mirroring the spell runes around her. (above her, Vriska on her interface throne froze up as she felt the trickle of magic being pumped into her assets dry up, and then only scraps being fed into her. Everything was teal.)

Terezi tilted her head back, a giantess big enough to destroy an army of demons with a single step or firm press of a finger’s claw, and breathed the power in. The artifact wobbled and then was violently tossed out of the magical circle as its power was promptly sucked out of it. Possibly by coincidence, it was flung right into John. It didn’t hurt him, just bounced off his bubble without any harm, but it was still loud and surprising enough that he was compelled to complain about it. He beat his hands against the bubble and yelled, but Terezi wasn’t listening.

(Upstairs, Vriska fumed as her body continued to grow, already five hundred feet tall by now, with boobs twice their original size… but she wasn’t getting as big as she expected. The power! The precious, delicious power… what had been river was now just a tiny stream, and where she should have been scraping against the clouds in her citadel’s magical environment, she was growing bigger so slowly that she could actually perceive things around her getting smaller. No! It was supposed to be bigger!

It was only through great force of will that she didn’t jump off and race downstairs to yell at Terezi. Who was absolutely, obviously behind all this! It was ALWAYS HER.)

Terezi was well aware of Vriska’s thoughts on the matter thanks to the magical link between familiar and sorceress that gave Terezi an insight into her thoughts. Unfortunately (from vriska’s perspective), this meant that Terezi could passively read her mind pretty much all the time, no doubt a reason how Terezi kept commandeering all her plans and sucking up her power gains. So Terezi ‘overheard’ Vriska’s complaints, and she gloated over Vriska’s shock at losing out on massive bust gains.

She blew a mocking kiss at John’s protests, and by sheer coincidence she started growing bigger, swelling upwards as her wiggling claws waved away the kiss. The magic flowered into her blood, bone and the core of magic at her center, and it flooded her with such power, so much that the only way to express it - was to grow!

The chamber rapidly got a lot more cramped as she expanded, slowly growing upwards. Already so large, Terezi grew right in front of John’s eyes, the magic pouring into her. Her tail slapped against the walls and cushioned her as her shoulders rose into the ceiling, despite the ceiling magically growing so you’d always fit into it; she was getting so big, so fast, she was outstripping it!

Four hundred feet, and upwards, her growth steady but very, very rapid. Her butt swelled up so that her fat tail was propped up, and several pillars were broken beneath its weight. Her butt kept swelling out, along with her hips, keeping pace with her expanding height; the expansion charms of the room were soon exhausted, and John could no longer see anything behind them but the lashing of her tail.

The magic flooded into her as she kept growing; another thousand feet piled on in a brief size burst, and by now it was plain to see that she was not funneling most of this tremendous potential into her size. Sure, she was growing larger, but… the growth was petering out surprisingly fast. As John watched, she wasn’t getting taller, her height getting more staggered. Where was it going.

The answer lay in her chest’s sudden explosive growth; her breasts swelled out faster than she was growing upwards, new scales growing to cover acres of new flesh between the patches of gilded scales. In moments, her breasts doubled in size, and she kept getting taller, her bustline not only keeping pace with her height, but surpassing its growth!

And they just kept growing; all the immense magic of the ancient battery, potentially to be used in war or some terrible misuse, now being pumped right into her bustline. Enough power to blow a country off the world was forced into her chest and milk production. Terezi cooed as her breasts hit the floor, rapidly growing so big that they were taller than she was!

The weight of her expanding bustline pushed her against the wall, her body rising up on her own bed-tier bustline. And since she was still growing physically more gigantic, this pushed her into the roof.

Terezi kept getting bigger, growing taller until she crashed into the floor, her wings and back cramped into the roof and too big to fit properly now, but she was still growing largely. Her breasts kept growing more rapidly by the second; John squeaked as a tide of teal filled up the room, a sloshing sound as if of an approaching sea getting stirred up as they smacked into place.

The walls creaked. Terezi and her boobs were still growing.

And though John could now see nothing, absolutely nothing at all but teal-tinted darkness, grow bigger she did. But now the last of the magic was greedily swallowed up by her magnificent body, her height finally stabilizing. Her breasts continued to grow in a few more shakes and wiggles, apparently hopeful for more, and at least they stopped. The room was now as good as a bra for her massive breasts, and Terezi sighed in contentment as her new body settled. Her butt pushing out behind her, her breasts big enough for her and a couple others of her to sleep on… a fitting temple to her glory.

Teal magical signs appeared all over her body, in languages no longer written anywhere in the world (so far as they knew). These two faded, and with that, the spell was done. The absorbed magic faded away, into Terezi’s rune-streaked body. She smacked her huge lips and licked a few scraps of quintessence off, patting a swell of breast bigger than some kingdoms. She kept growing, but in bits and bumps, not the smooth (if very fast!) expansion she had done before. About seventy-five hundred feet tall by now, and shrinking a bit as she willingly suppressed her power for the sake of it being really funny to spring on Vriska at the first opportunity, she cleared up some room.

Thusly, John was now able to see… well, not much, still. All he could see now was one toe-claw dominating his view of the universe, but he could feel her presence. In any case she picked him up, the tips of two claws neatly pinched his bubble and wrenching out of the wall.

“Well, check me out!” Terezi said sweetly, holding him like a little marble against the ceiling so he could see all of her. “How’d I do, huh?”

John saw nothing but… a sea of such massive, scaley, huge busty goodness… he clammed up, turning red. He loved Vriska with all his fierce heart, but… not even she was that big and gorgeous. He’d never admit it, but… he couldn’t lie!

Terezi giggled, and blew him another kiss.

The door slammed open and out came Vriska. With some difficulty, and at first there was a hint of massive breasts and a shoulder trying to force their way through the doorway, and then the doorway was magically transformed to allow her through, and through it came Vriska.

She was significantly bigger, John judged at once, with love in his heart and desire in his hips. Almost… a thousand feet tall, now! More than twice her original size, but compared to her original goal of approaching Terezi’s size, she still looked distinctly puny. Though it was hard to say that, when she now had a figure with hips that left the door way a ruin, and breasts with lower hemispheres around her hips. You couldn’t even see anything of her body above the waist, just two massive bouncy globes. They swelled up as Vriska drew in breath, and wailed: “TEREZI!”

Terezi flicked John right into Vriska’s cleavage, and somehow moved. In a flash she transformed, becoming a small lizard. With a cheeky slap of her tail she scurried away into the suddenly open hallways, leaving Vriska spinning head over horns with the impact of the John-projectile. “Thanks for the snack!” Terezi said, just to be cheeky. “Hope you don’t mind staying so skinny!”

Vriska howled in fury, and Terezi’s cackles echoed throughout the citadel as she exited it, and then her shadow eclipsed it, and all the kingdoms of the Serket was in awe as her buxom glory was revealed to them.

Dragons do love to show off their hoards, and Terezi’s body was a hoard for her!