Prompt of the Week - Week 167

To be fair, it had been a good wish; they just lacked forethought.

It was the curse of all mortals to be perpetually bad at comprehending large numbers; to think that a thousand was a lot, when a million dwarfed it, and a billion dwarfed it. To think in terms of days or weeks when, really, the idea should have been to think years ahead, or even decades. Because at the end of the day, they hadn’t actually wanted to just grow; if they did, there were cosmetic surgeries one could use, even gene treatments for fine-tailoring one’s size and shape.

No, what they had wanted was to be overwhelmed by their own growth.

Looking at themselves in the mirror, it was easy to assume that they had everything they could’ve asked for. In a world filled with hypers of all stripes, they alone stood out as the biggest among the big, so massive that most other people assumed there had to have been some degree of experimental genetic fuckery going on to make it possible; the lucky one themself did nothing to disabuse anyone of this notion, feeling (perhaps correctly) that it was a lot more fun if no one knew the real reason behind their inexplicable, continuous surge of size.

In reality, the wish they had made from the one lamp that turned out to be actually real had more than pulled its weight, though now that they had reached a size so ludicrous that their environments had long-since stopped being even remotely adapted to them, the… limitations had begun to show themselves.

At first, everything was perfect: one inch taller, two inches bustier, and three inches more hung for each and every day that passed, with no upper limit; they would just keep growing, until such a point as they became too big to move (the goal) or they got bored and spent their remaining wish on either stopping the growth itself or going back to a more “workable” size. Every day they would wake up, look at themselves in the mirror, and just see… more. More tit, more cock, more balls, more mass packed onto them, until eventually they had to buy a new mirror entirely, and a new one, and a new one, leading to the massive, wall-sized reflective surface that took up one whole side of their warehouse home.

And it still wasn’t enough.

It had been a year since the wish was made, and the maths did, in fact, add up; inch by inch, they had made themselves into a giant in every sense of the word, and not a day went by that they didn’t spend a few hours just… admiring themselves, in metaphorical and very literal ways. They’d quit their job months prior, given how most of their income came from photo shoots and the myriad of ad companies that just loved to have the world’s biggest hyper endorse whatever product they were contracted to shill out.

The mega-hyper themself didn’t particularly care, just so long as they were paid; they could ask them to put in a good word for a literal manure delivery service and they’d put on a smile, a mock farmer’s outfit, and demand someone forge them a pitchfork their size, just for a paycheck. Because, ultimately, it wasn’t about anything other than growing; anything they did, everything they did, was in the service of giving them more time to lose themself in their own curves, their own musculature, their own size.

And yet, this was when reality played a very, very cruel trick on them.

It was one thing to grow three extra inches of dick every day when said dick had barely reached six to begin with: every single morning came with so much more wood that they were too busy admiring their new form to really consider the long-term implications; same for their tits, and, to a lesser extent, their height as well. The simple fact that, the bigger they became, the less any one day’s gains really… mattered.

After all, for someone that was five foot tall, gaining a foot in twelve days was a whole extra fifth of themselves appearing out of nowhere! Now that they’d breached the thirty-foot line, though, an inch was barely anything worth noticing; and the less said about how little three inches below the waist or two inches around the chest actually were, when their assets had grown so positively gigantic, the better.

They were still growing at the same rate, that was the worst part: the wish worked exactly as it was requested, and for anyone else, that might’ve been enough. In a year’s time, they would be as much bigger compared to what they were that day as that day’s size was compared to a year before… and therein lay the problem.

Was it good gains? Absolutely, no doubt about it; consistent ones, too, letting them make plans based on how much more they were going to grow, and how much this would impact them in a very real, practical sense. But that was the problem, really: it was predictable. More than that, it was constant, unchanging, and now that they had grown enough that any individual gain was barely noticeable, it wasn’t doing anything for them.

Sure, if they stopped paying attention for a couple of weeks and came back to it, they’d see the difference, but really, in between a pair of tits sixty feet wide and one that was just one sixty-one, was there even a difference at all? Realistically, did it even matter at that point? They barely felt like they were growing at all, as much as they were just… slowly swelling into a slightly more inconvenient form; they were already so enormous that any kind of accomodations for their current size were built with future growth accounted for, so they even lost that aspect of it!

The first few weeks were the best. They stopped being able to fit in any of their clothes, then they kept bumping into the sides of doors before moving up to hitting the top; going anywhere became all-but impossible without causing a scene, either because their improvised coverings gave up the ghost and fully exposed their body, or because they just happened to be somewhere that couldn’t cater to someone as big as they were!

Bus rides became so awkward for other people that the lucky hyper started spending money just so they could enjoy the thrill of being massive in public, right next to people who didn’t know how to react when someone whose tits were bigger than both their bodies combined decided to sit next to them. That was how they got their start in online spaces as well: a few videos went viral, one thing led to another, and now all they had to do was release a video a week and their life was set.

And just how perfect the first year of this new life had been… or, at least, the first half, maybe the first three quarters of it. Everything was a race to see whether they could design a home that could contain them, or plumbing systems that could drain them, or any variety of problems that kept cropping up because some part of them was too big to fit, or too productive to leave alone, or this, or that, or anything: the growing was the point, the growing was the ideal, and the growing was what kept them in a near-constant state of arousal that had, now, completely died out.

Yes, they couldn’t fit into any door that wasn’t specially sized for them. Yes, they needed custom-built milking pumps (three of them!) just to keep themselves empty enough to be able to walk around without cumming their brains out from the sloshing alone. And yes, they had grown so big that their size had officially become everyone else’s problem: they would still be there and still be growing whether or not everyone else liked it, and as far as the law was concerned, just being big wasn’t a crime.

So really, they didn’t even need to do anything! They could just hang around their home all day, report their size gains to the relevant authorities, and just let emergency services and the nearest hyper accessibility office deal with constructing new housing infrastructure and drainage systems… which was exactly what they ended up doing most of the time.

There was none of the thrill they experienced originally, none of the exhilaration of waking up every morning and being visibly bigger than before. Now it was just… a little bit more onto an already enormous frame, and minor adjustments to a house that had already been sized to such a ludicrous scale that it just wasn’t fun any more; they weren’t inconvenient, because their house was built with them in mind, and they couldn’t become inconvenient because they had everything delivered to their place and had no reason to go outside at all.

Sure, they could force the issue, but… it just wasn’t the same. Maybe they’d do it for a video on occasion, but it was one thing to have to leave the house and face the consequences of being too fuckhuge for their world, and another to just do it for no reason other than to show off. Maybe in practice the difference was negligible, if it existed at all, but for them it mattered, and the experience had been denied to them.

And this needed fixing.

They’d been warned against trying anything to change their rate of growth, to be fair; no one wanted to deal with the inevitable consequences of someone of their size suddenly growing even faster than before, with the local hyper accessibility office having not-so-subtly indicated that any “funny business” might lead to legal action meant to remove their subsidised housing and paid-for pumping accommodations. Not that they particularly cared, as the giant was more than aware that this was an empty threat at best: in the unlikely scenario that they did actually begin growing faster, what exactly were emergency services going to do? Not do everything in their power to help everyone else?

And the best way to do that was to just acquiesce to whatever demands the mega-hyper happened to have. Better to just build a bigger house, or install larger pumps, or just about anything other than leave them unnatended for more than five minutes, and they themself was aware of this; they knew, full well, that they had grown so much that no matter what they did, the bill would never fall on their head ever again, which opened the path to more… creative options for their problem.

They still had a wish left. The first one had been a rather personal one for a friend who would never know better, and the second one had left them in this situation to begin with; they had deliberately left the third and last one unwished, the genie having returned to the bottle, just in case they ever wanted to put an end to their growth journey… but now they were considering whether they shouldn’t make it worse instead.

They craved the stimulation of growth. They needed that rush of feeling like they were growing, of seeing the effects, not only on themselves but on the environment around them. They needed to be an inconvenience again, not just one that was accounted for; one could hardly be called an inconvenience if everyone that could be affected had already made plans and contingencies for what they knew was going to happen next.

So, they simply had to make sure no one knew what was going to happen next.

With their right as the holder of the lamp, the soon-to-be-greater giant summoned their genie, and issued their last wish: an alteration of the second one, where instead of an additive growth schedule, they would now grow multiplicatively.

The raised eyebrow on the creature was enough to let the giga-hyper know they made the right choice, though they did have to specify that they didn’t just want to blast open the floodgates on the first step. Rather, the next morning, they would wake up to themselves being a hundredth times bigger than they were the day before; the next day, two hundredths, then three, four, and so forth and so forth as the point-zero-one turned to point-one turned into them waking up every morning at least double the size of the night before, then three times, four times, and so forth.

An ever-escalating spiral of immenseness that was all-but guaranteed to go completely out of control within the year, and one that would leave them able to experience what it was like to grow, to expand, and, most importantly, to do so in a manner that was entirely inconvenient to everything and everyone around them.

Well, perhaps “inconvenient” was underselling just what sort of disaster was looming on the horizon, but it wasn’t the genie’s responsibility to teach their former lampholder how to properly word a wish, or how to think more than one growth spurt ahead; they were just happy to be freed from their bondage, and after granting the wish, promptly vanished into the aether, never to be seen again.

And as for the budding disaster area, they simply… went back to their old life, now knowing that they were on a timer until it all came crashing outwards in the wake of their colossal, constant megagrowth.

***

It had been unnoticeable at first.

Multiplying their size by a hundredth more of itself or adding a couple of extra inches was, effectively, the same thing; no one really paid attention to the growth reports anyway, so there was no questioning of the weird discrepancies in the exact amount of size gained… or, if there was, no one in a high enough position cared enough to pursue it.

This would very quickly change.

Once again, the wording of the wish had been… less than well thought out. The gargantuan, cloud-obscuring gigamacro had only considered the idea that, eventually, they would be growing twice as big every day; they hadn’t actually stopped to consider what that meant in practical terms when they were meant to be doubling their size every day.

Nor did they stop to consider the fact that, before they reached the nice big round two, they’d be gaining size in the eighty to ninety percent extra; not necessarily twice as big, but enough of a difference that they were very quickly growing unrecognisably larger every time they woke up, at such a rapid pace that there really was no way for themself, or anyone else for that matter, to adapt to the alterations to… everything.

Houses quickly stopped meaning anything; there wasn’t a single structure on that planet that could hold their size after a while, and even if there was, it’d be rendered thoroughly obsolete the moment the sun rose twenty-four hours later.

Containment systems were no longer possible to implement; even assuming anyone could find or create a plumbing system that could process the ludicrous amounts of milk and cum produced on a mere hourly basis, well… twenty-four hours, and whatever was being requested of that system would double up or more, as it seemed like the macro’s productivity had begun to rise at a much, much faster rate than their raw size.

There was nothing that could be done. No matter how much effort was put into place, it would all be rendered pointless within a day; no matter how much money or how many resources were thrown at this problem, it would only ever make it worse by way of depriving first responders of much needed assistance down the line. Not that this mattered in the slightest, considering no one would ever be able to fix… any of this.

The landscape was gone, flattened under tits or cock or balls or any part of the ludicrously overbuilt muscle mass bulging and rippling as it shone underneath the light of the sun. Most of the country was either buried underneath the macro’s bulk, or soon to be; in barely a week’s time, it would be the planet vanishing into their cleavage, and before long, the Solar System in its entirety, before… well, everyone knew what was happening.

They were all witnessing a universal catastrophe unfolding, and the only thing they could think to do was hope that it would stop at some point.

But they didn’t want to stop; the gigamacro currently busying themself squirming and squeezing any part of their body they could reach could only think that they weren’t done, that they had finally obtained exactly what they wanted, precisely what they needed: an overwhelming, overbearing amount of growth, given to them for free on a silver platter every day they woke up.

No more disappointment with subpar gains. No more wistful sighing over they fit through doors now. No more dreaming about a world where their size was once again the centre of attention: they were there now, and they would never leave. Their mere presence warped and distorted reality around it, as their mass was so compact and dense that it had begun affecting the planet’s orbit; they already had plans for what to do once they were too big to fit, and, well… they had plans. The little ones would surely love them, once they got used to the new accommodations.

It was only fair that they provide a home and housing for the whole world after what happened, and besides, they needed someone to be there, witnessing their glorious ascension. And when their homeworld became too small for the budding deity to be able to see… well, that was a problem for another day. A problem for a future version of themself, with the time to spare thinking about it.

Because at that moment, all they wanted to do was grow more.

And never stop.