Prompt of the Week - Week 165

In all fairness, Alicia did think that the wish was worded perfectly.

It was utterly unnecessary, given the sheer size of her. Anyone would look at the possum and instantly assume that she was already the recipient of a similar wish anyway, given the sheer size of her compared to… just about anywhere and anyone else she might be in or near. And for Alicia herself, the knowledge that it was all natural, baby, served as the cherry atop the proverbial shake whenever it came time to put her girls on display.

And it was always time to put her girls on display.

Who could blame her? At the ripe old age of twenty-six, Alicia had already far outstripped most size records set by others before her, to the point where she could make a tidy living just showing up at places and taking pictures to post later; the amount of money she’d made out of advertisement deals alone in the previous year would have made anyone green with envy, and the ability to eat out for free wherever she wanted was pretty nice as well.

For most hypers her age, one could expect a cup size large enough to take up most of their chest, maybe even hang slightly below the waist if they were lucky; the very lucky ones could see their tits reaching their mid-thigh, with enough sideboob to cause a commotion and enough milk (or species appropriate) production to make a decent living at a dairy farm. But Alicia was not most hypers her age.

Alicia was something different.

While others were having to consider the possibility of special-made bras with in-built gravity manipulators to avoid long-term posture damage, Alicia was already buying her second set of gravpads, because anything sewn into the bra itself was no longer enough. While others were managing to fill up a glass, maybe a bottle with their milk, the poss had to schedule at least two different milkings per day just to keep her girls at an acceptably low fill volume, lest she accidentally immobilise herself from raw productivity.

That is to say, she scheduled two different milkings just to keep herself on the cusp of immobility, giving her breasts plenty of opportunity train up their production rates, their resistance to further growth, and her own tolerance for feeling like she was about to burst. The end result was that, by age twenty-six, Alicia could outproduce the daily output of a standard dairy farm over the course of half a day, and if it weren’t for two highly-customised (and extremely expensive) gravity lifts carrying her tits around all day, she would be completely immobile.

She hadn’t been able to see in front of her for at least two years, and it had only gotten worse with time.

To say her tits were huge, while accurate, was still a severe understatement. Anywhere she went, she could know for a fact that she’d be the biggest; the number of people who had her beat could be counted on one hand, and they were all so massive that they couldn’t leave their specially-designed compounds, making her, effectively, the largest mobile hyper on the planet… for a given value of mobile.

And while for most people this would be enough of an accolade, Alicia didn’t care for doing things by half-measures; she was either going to be the biggest, period, or she may as well not even bother trying.

Her milk training regimen had been but the latest in a series of decisions on her part to increase the size of her bust by any means necessary. Natural means, of course; no one considered implant users to be “true” hypers, seeing as medical tech had progressed to the point where just about anyone could have immobilisingly-massive mammaries with just a swipe of their credit cards. Indeed, at no point did Alicia ever consider the possibility of artificial methods, no matter how attractive the use of nanite solutions looked like.

But after years of pushing herself to the limit, she had hit a barrier. Yes, her development completely blew everyone else’s out of the water, and according to her physicians’ best estimates, she would take the crown as world’s biggest before she hit thirty, but… it just wasn’t enough. It was never about the size, really, never about the absolute measurements or whether or not she was “officially” considered to be anything; it was about the growth, and it was about the excess of it.

It was about walking into a room, and it being a problem before she even went in at all. It was about having to make excuses for why she couldn’t go somewhere because the doors weren’t wide enough. It was about showing up anyway, then making a scene on how much work it was to squeeze her girls through an opening that just wasn’t big enough for them. It was about making a whole load of undignified noises as her milk splattered all over the floor, and it was about acting nonchalant after the whole thing was over, and everyone was intimately acquainted with what a milkgasm sounded like.

It was about being the biggest, and everything it entailed; if the bar changed, then so did she, even if it meant making life an utter inconvenience outside completely controlled circumstances. In fact, it was because she was made to be an inconvenience that it was good, that it was desirable; if it was easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing, and she wouldn’t have to sign permits any time she wanted to go anywhere that might contain priceless artifacts, or things generally made out of glass.

Alas, there were limits to how much one could do to make one’s bust grow naturally, especially when one had already employed all known methods to their fullest capacity. Some might say that desiring even more was gluttonous and irresponsible, dangerous even; Alicia would say these people were cowards, then bemoan the fact that she was only growing about a yard a month nowadays, rather than every other hour.

But there was a solution.

Everyone told her that it was an insane idea, that throwing money at an expedition to find a “fabled genie lamp” was stupid, reckless, and incredibly intrusive of local customs, but Alicia knew better: it had a non-zero chance of making her tits bigger, which was all the maths she needed. And now, with the genie lamp in her possession, not only were all the doubters oddly quiet all of a sudden, but she’d received word that a few of them were eyeing her possession of it, hoping to exploit any vulnerability to acquire it for themselves.

Which, as far as the possum was concerned, they were free to do: she only wanted one wish anyway.

“I wish that my tits would grow to fill whatever space I’m in.”

Simple. Effective. To the point. Alicia didn’t even notice the raised eyebrow on the entity’s face, staring down at her with an expression that would’ve many anyone recoil; she was more concerned with how her tits were going to grow bigger, forever, every time she entered any space that was bigger than they were!

And it began right there. Having anticipated her success, Alicia had rented out a large warehouse on the outskirts of where she lived, knowing for a fact that she wouldn’t be paying a cent on it after she became too big to move. Conservative estimates still placed her final size at a state far beyond what any other hyper had achieved before, depending on what the genie considered to be “fill” and “space”; they could’ve fucked her out of a proper victory by defining it as “floor space”… which is exactly why she made sure to grab the widest damned warehouse available for rental.

Once the wish was made, however, everything went exactly according to plan. One moment, Alicia was merely big enough that she could on her breasts while her paws dangled a couple of feet off the ground, and the next, seismographs the next county over were registering a sudden spike in tectonic activity, with the maintenance crew waiting on standby outside the warehouse watching as the roof began to bow outwards.

There was a horrifying screech of metal as the scaffolding holding the top of the warehouse was pushed to its limits, the structural integrity of it tested to its extreme; within seconds, one could clearly see the outline of both of Alicia’s breasts against the metal plating, and were it not for the valiant efforts of countless rivets, the whole thing would’ve blown outward at first contact.

But the wish had specified “space”, and as far as it was concerned, the possum had completely filled up all “space” available to her: herself, smushed against one wall of the warehouse, right next to the main access door… and everything else being nothing but titmass. She couldn’t even see most of it; hell, she could only see what was immediately around her in a radius of maybe a couple of feet, seeing as she had been flattened against the wall to make room for her expanding bust!

Thankfully, she could feel it.

It was hard to tell whether it was a direct result of her wish, or whether it was simple nature: if having tits that big meant that their sensitivity also had to scale, leaving her pleasure centres saddled with an exponential increase in input that very quickly overwhelmed any sense of consciousness that Alicia might’ve had. For the first time in her life, the poss experienced what it was like to literally cum herself into passing out, and the one regret she’d had was that it all went black far before she had the opportunity to experience it properly.

She woke some time later, to the sounds of construction taking place all around her. Smothering her face against her breasts in order to move it around, consequently reminding herself that this was all very much real, she spotted a small microphone taped to the wall next to her, with a note reading:

SPEAK HERE: CONNECTION OUTSIDE

Not the most elegant, but she figured it would do. The crew on the exterior was certainly happy to hear from her, asking her all manner of questions about how she was feeling, whether she was hurt, and so much more that Alicia answered robotically and didn’t bother to retain; after all, the longer she was awake, the more the sensations on her giga-bust filtered down to her, making it harder and harder to think as she approached yet another mind-shattering orgasm.

Apparently, from what little she bothered to gather, the amount of damage caused was… significant. While the warehouse was still in one piece, the disaster zone around it had been expanding by the minute, mostly as a result of her productivity having gone through the roof (seeing as her tits unfortunately didn’t). Emergency services had to be called to handle the flooding, and they had decided that, for the sake of everyone else’s safety, they were going to have to rip the roofing off the warehouse so they could more safely access Alicia’s nipples, opening up the opportunity for large-scale draining.

… unfortunately, the warehouse was still private property, and this being a rather unprecedented situation, no one was quite sure if they had the authority to just crack open a whole structure like it was a tin can, much less to slap some industrial-sized milking machines to someone. Thus, they were waiting for Alicia to wake up and give the order on what to do.

Which she responded to with utter indignation: they had the chance to expose her to the whole world and they hadn’t taken it already?!

The warehouse roof was not to be removed. The whole damn warehouse was.

Confirmation could not have come faster, and before long, the sounds of construction intensified, with machinery being brought in to safely demolish the container holding Alicia away from becoming a national landmark.

At no point was the poss thinking about the implications of going outside. In her mind, the wish was perfectly airtight: “space” was just any old enclosed location. In her mind, she’d be freed from the warehouse and then from there just… find somewhere else that happened to have four walls, a roof and ceiling, and happened to be big enough to hold all of her plus some extra wiggle room so she could fill that.

And when she ran out of such places, she’d just use her money to order one built, and keep on going until she was visible from orbit.

Fortunately for Alicia, her wish was well ahead of her on when it came to giving her what she actually wanted. At no point did the possum note that “space” meant “enclosed”; indeed, had she bothered to look at the genie when the wish was made, she would’ve noticed the obvious call for her to reconsider, rather than give into the first idea that came to mind. But she didn’t on both counts, and was about to become everyone else’s problem, because the moment the first chunk of metal was removed from the warehouse roofing, the effect triggered.

Against all odds, the whole roof had remained intact throughout the experience. Neither the first impact nor the resulting mega-rumbling from all that hyperdriven milk production had successfully dislodged even a portion of it: bent, sure, twisted horribly, absolutely, but the roof was still, technically, in one piece. And with the doors remaining to constrain the warehouse interior to one “space”, Alicia had been safe in her little corner, unable to grow any further.

But as soon as even a fraction of her was exposed to the air above the bent metal plates over her head, it was all over.

Now, suddenly, there was no defined “space” for her to fill: no walls to contain her, no roofing to hold her down, certainly no physical boundaries to speak of. She was outside, in the big wide world, and as far as the wish was concerned, she now had to find a “space” to fill. There was no conditional there; it wasn’t as if this was an ability that had to be triggered or activated, but rather a constant, a fact about the poss that had to remain true, or else the genie would’ve broken its word.

So, she filled all available space.

Or, well, tried to at least. It was one thing to fill up a warehouse, quite another to fill the entirety of all things that existed. The wish correctly identified her current “space” as being “everywhere in general”: there was, after all, a direct line between Alicia and most of the universe within her line of sight, and as soon as she was big enough, just between herself and the rest of the universe in general.

So she grew. Alicia was quite lucky that, in the process of growing quickly enough to set off the biggest earthquake on record, she had been pushed upwards to rest atop those swelling mountains of hers, or else the ground and her would’ve become very unfortunately acquainted. She wasn’t thinking about the inevitability of ending up outside the atmosphere, or of growing so quickly she’d be flattened against her own tits; quite frankly, the possum was too busy cumming her brains out to really think about anything at all, owing to the gargantuan quantities of milk being forcefully expelled out of her from the sheer pressure of overproduction alone.

Her home city didn’t last more than a few seconds. Whatever spaces existed within it ceased to be relevant as every structure was flattened by the advancing wall of titflesh, followed quickly by most of the ground collapsing in on itself, as the foundations were woefully insufficient for the amount of weight placed on them.

Whatever geography existed around said city was the next to go: anything with the minimal amount of elevation was smoothed out, creating a perfect, uniform plain occasionally pockmarked by whatever divots served to let Alicia’s tits bwoompf downwards, the force of expansion helping to widen what used to be small valleys into enormous canyons, and from there proceed to crack open the very Earth itself as more and more of her breasts grew in, filling whatever space was available.

After all, if she opened a hole in the ground, that was now empty space to be filled. And, if in doing so, she opened a wider hole, well…

All of this took place within seconds, as the wish had little desire to prolong its own fulfilment. Granted, there was so much space that Alicia got to experience what it was like going from merely warehouse-sized, to state-dominating, to so massive she could see the curvature of her planet, to so ungodsly enormous that said planet vanished into her cleavage, all over the course of roughly a minute or so; there was so much space, in fact, that she even had a few more minutes of rest, where all her tits did was fill up the empty vacuum, with only the Moon to distract her when she atomised it over the course of a nanosecond.

But this wouldn’t last.

There was all of space to fill, and whatever magic was keeping her on this growth path had certainly noticed that it wasn’t going to go anywhere if it kept to the same pace as before. It needed to go faster if it was going to fill up all available space in anything remotely resembling Alicia’s lifetime. Sure, it would mean obliterating everything in the way and likely causing some form of universal collapse, but that wasn’t the genie’s fault; the possum should’ve just worded her wishes better.

So the wish magic did what it was supposed to do: it adapted to the wish to fulfil the letter of it. And, just as Alicia was coming out of what felt like the tenth milkgasm, she felt it.

She filled up all available space.