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"3071009_AzureDreamer_gd-1.rtf", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/3071/3071009_AzureDreamer_gd-1.jpg", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/3071/3071009_AzureDreamer_gd-1.jpg", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/3071/3071009_AzureDreamer_gd-1.jpg", "submission_left_thumb_huge_x": "300", "submission_left_thumb_huge_y": "300", "submission_left_thumb_large_x": "200", "submission_left_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_left_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_left_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "Almost a year later, here's the second growth drive! Not quite as successful as the last one, for obvious reasons. 2020 was a [i]hell[/i] of a year, for everyone. My cat died, I finished a novel, and everyone spent the entire year inside. Highs and lows. But it's passed now, and we can hopefully move on.\n\nThey also take so long to finish that honestly I'm [i]probably[/i] not gonna do another one? Or at least not any time soon - I like having time to, like, work on things I want to. Of course, I'm not gonna say I'm [i]never[/i] gonna do another? I already have ideas for what the third would be, but... well, time is a zero sum game and there's definitely things I'd rather devote my time to. And anyway there's other, better ways to support me. Like, for instance, my [url=https://www.patreon.com/azuredreamer]patreon[/url]! If you like my writing, consider throwing a few bucks my way! It really helps my ability to, like, justify continuing to do this.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Almost a year later, here's the second growth drive! Not quite as successful as the last one, for obvious reasons. 2020 was a hell of a year, for everyone. My cat died, I finished a novel, and everyone spent the entire year inside. Highs and lows. But it's passed now, and we can hopefully move on.

They also take so long to finish that honestly I'm probably not gonna do another one? Or at least not any time soon - I like having time to, like, work on things I want to. Of course, I'm not gonna say I'm never gonna do another? I already have ideas for what the third would be, but... well, time is a zero sum game and there's definitely things I'd rather devote my time to. And anyway there's other, better ways to support me. Like, for instance, my patreon! If you like my writing, consider throwing a few bucks my way! It really helps my ability to, like, justify continuing to do this.", "writing": "“Okay, so I’ve got some things I think need to be said?”\n\n“Shoot. We’ve got time until the setup’s done.”\n\nIsabelle shifted uncomfortably. “I can understand the need to do occasional fundraisers to help with the community. We can’t pay for everything with tax dollars or out of the mayor’s pocket.”\n\n“Well, most if not all of the mayor’s bells came from selling things at Nook’s Cranny. Same with pretty much everyone in town, really.”\n\n“Right! We’ve got to inject new funds into the system somehow. That part I understand. What I don’t understand is... Well, first off, why me?”\n\n“Don’t underestimate yourself! You’re quite popular on that newfangled internet thing, you know.”\n\n“Yeah, Tom, I know,” Isabelle replied, shivering slightly as she recalled the handful of times she’d googled herself. She’d never really expected, or even wanted to become famous, and especially not the particular way she’d become famous. But... Well, there was something about being unable to google yourself without stumbling on several very indecent pictures, typically with much larger breasts than normal, that made her feel things that she couldn’t quite put words to but she was pretty sure weren’t good.\n\n“It’s like you said when you suggested this, there’s a lot of people who would pay very good money to see you get, ah, bigger.”\n\n“Right see that’s the other thing.” Isabelle writhed in the simple folding beach chair some more as she tried to ignore the fact that this was her idea in the first place.\n\n“Don’t worry, it’s just stage fright. Give yourself some time to get into the groove, as it were.”\n\n“I guess...” Truth be told, Isabelle hadn’t actually expected anyone to figure out how to magically make her grow, let alone livestreaming it to the internet, let alone tying it to donations? Somehow? She didn’t pretend to understand the logistics, and no one she asked could give her an adequate explanation either. Maybe nanobots or something like that? Honestly, for all she knew it was literally magic, which also probably explained how they were livestreaming this in spite of the lack of visible cameras. Or, fuck, maybe there were hidden cameras in the trees or maybe it was drones or something. She wasn’t entirely sure whether or not she was uncomfortable with the whole situation yet, but she’d elected to just take things as they came for the moment.\n\n“Treat it like a big vacation,” Tom said – if he noticed the way Isabelle cringed when he used the word ‘big’, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Just relax. You’re on a big empty tropical island with a whole cooler full of vacation juice.”\n\n“I’m a scotch person, Tom, you know that.”\n\n“Scotch is expensive, vacation juice is not,” Tom replied firmly. “I’ve got to go, ah, get out of the blast radius. As it were. Is your earpiece in firmly?”\n\n“Yeah,” Isabelle said, though she reflexively checked to make sure anyway. She wasn’t sure how much good it would do if things started snowballing, but again, it was probably best to take things as they came. “Tell Wilbur I said hi.”\n\n“Will do. And hey, just relax. Enjoy yourself! I’m told it feels good.”\n\nWith that, Tom waved goodbye and left Isabelle to wonder who the fuck told him it felt good. With a vague sigh, she opened the cooler and pulled out a glass of vacation juice. One of quite a few, she noted. Probably necessary – she was gonna need to turn off her inhibitions for a while. Like she’d said to Tom, she had never been much for tiki drinks. But, here and now, in a situation where she felt the need to get super fucked up super quickly, she could certainly see the appeal. If she didn’t know that there was alcohol in this, she probably would have assumed it was just some sort of smoothie. But this wasn’t a smoothie, it was vacation juice, and like every tiki drink there was a staggering amount of alcohol in it. But, also like every tiki drink, it didn’t taste like there was a staggering amount of alcohol in it. That was why they were so dangerous. You could down ten glasses and not even notice until you were so plastered you couldn’t stand up straight. Hell, she’d already started on her second without realizing it.\n\nIsabelle leaned back in her chair, letting the tropical breeze wash over her. It was moist and warm and smelled faintly of the ocean. Maybe a bit too warm, though that might have been the alcohol talking. Still, it was enough that she felt it justified to undo the top button of her pinkish tee shirt and give herself a bit of air. And then another, and after a moment of thought she decided that fuck it her clothing probably wasn’t going to stay intact for very long once she started getting bigger and undid the remaining two. She didn’t quite go so far as to remove it completely. Part of the fun (she assumed) was the prospect of outgrowing her clothing, and being nude defeated the purpose of that. Beneath her shirt she was wearing a modest blue bikini top, which didn’t match at all with her cream coloured skirt but did match the blue bikini bottom she was wearing as panties. Normally this particular outfit came with simple brown shoes, but she’d elected to go barefoot, as while the shirt and skirt and swimwear all came directly from Tom and thus would be easy to replace, the shoes were Labelle originals. Very nice, very comfortable, and very expensive.\n\n“Looks like someone’s finally starting to enjoy herself.”\n\n“Don’t make fun of me, Tom,” Isabelle said nonchalantly, finishing her second- wait, no, third glass of vacation juice. When the fuck did that happen? Oh, well, time for a fourth. “So when are we getting started?”\n\n“Whenever you’re ready.”\n\nIsabelle idly glanced into the cooler and counted the remaining glasses of vacation juice. There were... quite a few. It really was packed full of the stuff. “Well,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I want to finish off my vacation juice. But I suppose if we started now I could probably drink them more quickly, being larger and all.” Also, Tom wasn’t... the best with computers. He wasn’t completely technologically illiterate – he could use a smartphone to make calls and browse the internet. But anything more complicated than that was typically beyond him. So Isabelle probably had a few minutes between telling Tom to start things up and things actually starting up.\n\n“That’s the spirit. Just give me a moment to... figure out... how this works... Okay. I think that’s it. Do you feel any different?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“You sure? It should have started. I think.”\n\n“Tom, maybe you should get Timmy and Tommy to help you.” In contrast to their mentor, the twins were good with technology – they’d grown up during the rise of the internet so of course they were. They’d even helped Tom set up a god damn cryptocurrency a few months back, for crying out loud. If anyone could get this running, it would be them.\n\n“Absolutely not! This is an adults only affair and-”\n\n“Tom they’ve been working for you for almost twenty years I absolutely refuse to believe they’re underage.”\n\nThere was silence for a moment. “Fine. But if they get corrupted, I’m blaming you.”\n\nIsabelle rolled her eyes, and then returned to her fifth vacation juice while she waited for Tom to get the twins. It took him until she’d finished her sixth to actually return with them.\n\n“He’d opened a text file and typed ‘start big’ into it,” Timmy said.\n\n“Please don’t make fun of him, he’s trying his best,” Tommy interjected.\n\n“Can you get it running?” Isabelle said, unsuccessfully stifling a giggle.\n\n“Yeah, the donation stuff is already going. We just need to start the stream itself.”\n\n“You ready?”\n\n“I’ve got seven glasses of vacation juice in me, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”\n\n“Okay good because the stream’s started and people have already started donating.”\n\n“You should be hitting your first milestone right about now.”\n\nIsabelle picked up the eighth glass of vacation juice – which seemed to be the last. Which was probably for the best, she mused to herself, considering that honestly even this many would probably do serious damage to her liver were it not about to get much, much bigger. But on the other paw, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. Which, really, probably didn’t say great things about herself, but whatever she worked hard there was nothing wrong with occasionally treating herself to excessive amounts of alcohol.\n\nWell, there was nothing she could do one way or the other to change the fact that this was the final glass of vacation juice. With a shrug, she downed the whole thing probably a bit too quickly before carefully putting it back in the cooler. With that done, there was nothing left to do but wait for things to get going. And, in the meantime, now that she was done drinking she could finally feel the effects of the alcohol starting to hit. Her head felt slightly foggy and soft, like it was insulated from the world by a thick layer of plush. A familiar warmth blossomed in her chest, flowing out into the rest of her body and in the process washing away the last of her inhibitions.\n\nWhy had she been so anxious about this, again? It wasn’t like it was permanent, and anyway it had been her idea in the first place. She was the one who had suggested it, she clearly wanted this. And why wouldn’t she? Isabelle had always been a petite person, even by typical villager standards. Five feet even, with moderate curves. Which, don’t get her wrong, she was perfectly content with! But, well, her mind wandered back to googling herself. To seeing that fanart of her built like a porn star sex goddess. A statuesque six feet tall with fat d-cup tits. And, while Sober Isabelle hadn’t been able to put her finger on what those images made her feel, Drunk Isabelle absolutely could.\n\nAnd how they made her feel was that six feet tall with d-cups wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted to be huge. Massively, unimaginably huge, even if only for a little bit.\n\nThat drunken warmth continued to blossom, filling her from head to toe with the familiar giddiness – Isabelle had always been a happy drunk – until it ran out of room, but that didn’t stop it from continuing to flow into her. She suddenly felt full and hot and tight all over. And speaking of tight, her clothing had started to dig into her body in ways it decidedly hadn’t before. The folding beach chair creaked and groaned slightly as the weight it was holding started to increase. “Mnnnn,” Isabelle groaned, her hips rocking back and forth reflexively and her hands gripping the armrests tightly.\n\nTom was wrong. It didn’t feel good.\n\nIt felt fantastic.\n\n“A-ahn~” Isabelle moaned, mouth hanging open as she climaxed just from the sensation of growing. Thin strands of drool rolled their way down her chin, one on either side of her mouth, and her muscles locked up, only allowing enough movement for her to twitch slightly in time with the ebb and flow of her orgasm.\n\nAnd this was only the fucking beginning.\n\n“Mnnn, how big am I?” She said after coming down from her orgasmic high and taking just a moment to make sure she wasn’t still growing.\n\n“Seven feet!” Timmy replied perkily – although, there wasn’t really much call to mention his tone of voice. The twins were kind of always perky. In combination with just being extremely short and boyish, it was no wonder people tended to think they were much younger than they were.\n\n“And we’ve also got a special surprise for you!”\n\n“Oh?” Normally, Isabelle wasn’t a huge fan of surprises. But, well, her lowered inhibitions made her just a bit more inclined to go along with the flow. Really, she was surprised she still felt quite so drunk, considering how much bigger she’d apparently gotten. One would think that more bodymass would mean the alcohol would effect her less, but if anything she kinda felt a bit drunker.\n\n“Yep! Check out your tits!”\n\n“Tommy, language!” Tom snapped, his voice soft and muffled as a result of not being at the computer. Isabelle elected to ignore him. Tommy was an adult, he could say “tits” if he wanted. She was, frankly, much more interested in what the surprise was. Slowly, she did as Tommy suggested, removing her hands from the armrests and placing them on her modest breasts.\n\nThough, really, they were only proportionally modest. Her growth spurt had resulted in them getting quite a bit physically bigger. They had more heft to them than normal, and filled out her bikini much more. The blue fabric dug tightly into soft, yellow-furred flesh. Probably a bit too much – it was mildly uncomfortable, now that she thought about it. And beyond it, they felt... odd. That tightness that had filled her body had mostly vanished once the growth had petered off, but it was still there in her chest. They felt full. And, looking down at them, they seemed firmer than usual. A bit rounder, and maybe a half cup-size bigger? Tentatively, she placed her hands on them to get a better judgment of their size by giving them a bit of a squeeze.\n\n“Ahn!” She was rewarded with a spike of pleasure – not quite orgasmic, but oh man was it well beyond the typical result of giving her boobs a little squeeze – and some of that pressure was released. She removed her hands from her breasts and looked down. Her whole body was slightly damp with sweat (and, near her crotch, other fluids). But those twin blossoms of wetness on her bikini weren’t sweat. As she removed the stimulation, she felt that tightness slowly return, her tits slowly firming back up as they replenished the small amount of milk she’d unleashed.\n\n“Holy shit.”\n\n“Yeah, we’ve set it up so chat members can make little suggestions for extra changes and bits of specific growth.”\n\n“That was the first one!”\n\nIsabelle grinned. “I like it.”\n\n“Good, because you just hit the second milestone!”\n\n“Ten feet tall, by the way! And the suggestion is-”\n\n“Mnnn, don’t,” Isabelle groaned, once again writhing in her beach chair. She could feel that heat, that tightness returning once again. “I, ah, I wanna fffffind out f-for myselfffffffff~”\n\nSeven feet tall was already frankly massive. The beach chair had been very clearly built for someone around where Isabelle had started. Almost exactly, in fact. It was built almost more like a portable bed with armrests, bending exactly where her body bent naturally and with her feet and head almost exactly not extending beyond the blue and white striped fabric. Or at least that had been the case when she was five feet tall. At seven, the headrest completely failed at its intended function – the top of the chair barely reached her neck at all. Likewise, her feet and ankles and a good portion of her calves dangled loosely in the air.\n\nAnd, as that heat blossomed and spread, that portion became bigger and bigger. “Mnnnnfuck,” she moaned as she grew. Her clothing felt even tighter, and the arms of the chair began to press firmly into her hips. Firmly enough that she found herself quite firmly wedged. Her hips attempted to buck reflexively, but that wasn’t possible because she was too big to fit in her chair but not big enough to have outgrown it. She had grown enough, at least, for her feet to comfortably reach the ground. Moving carefully, she stood up, taking the chair with her.\n\n“Fuck,” she muttered – this time less out of arousal and more out of mild frustration – it was really fuckin’ wedged in there. And, considering her sheer raw size and weight, it was surprisingly intact. Much more durable than it initially appeared. Isabelle wrapped her hands around the armrests and pulled as hard as she could to no avail. With a grunt, she attempted to instead push it off of her, with similar results. “Well, darn,” she grumbled. “That’s inconvenient.”\n\n“Give it a second.”\n\n“It’ll take care of itself.”\n\nIsabelle wasn’t entirely sure what the twins meant at first. In retrospect it was fairly obvious, but in her defence she was still extremely not sober. As with the last growth spurt, rather than diminishing as a result of increased body mass, she almost seemed to have gotten drunker. So it wasn’t too unreasonable that she briefly forgot about the suggestions. It took a while for it to click in her head that the stretchy, rubbery sounds of growth were still going even though she’d stopped getting taller. Noticeably longer than it probably would have were she sober, but whatever. Eventually she noticed the way the chair was creaking and groaning more than it had been. The way her thighs had gotten slightly thicker, her hips slightly wider. The way that her bikini bottom was slowly being consumed by her growing ass.\n\nGranted, that happened roughly when her ass got so big that the chair’s arms flat-out snapped off, but again; it wasn’t unreasonable for her to be a bit out of it. Once she was emancipated, she immediately stood up straight – only to immediately lose her balance and fall backwards onto her much more well-cushioned rear with a heavy thud. Slowly, she attempted to pull herself to her feet, and failed miserably. “Okay I think maybe standing’s out of the question for a bit.”\n\n“It’s supposed to be set up to make you adjust to changes in your centre of gravity more easily,” Timmy said.\n\n“I don’t think it’s that so much as it’s all that vacation juice I drank,” Isabelle replied. Well, whatever. She didn’t need to be standing right now for any particular reason. And lying down was easier, so she did that. Though, after a moment’s thought, she elected to roll over from lying on her back to her stomach so that she could get at her brand new ass. Just give it a squeeze and get a feel for how big it was. And oh man was it big. Her hips and thighs had thickened slightly out of necessity, just to be able to support it. But only slightly, leaving it disproportionately large on her otherwise fairly slender frame. Each cheek was absolutely bigger than her tits, probably on par with her head. She bit her lips slightly as she felt her hands sink into the soft expanses of yellow-furred flesh. God, just the fact that it was big and soft enough for that to be possible was enough to send spikes of arousal down her spine.\n\nIt was also big enough that, factoring in being ten feet tall, her skirt had been pushed up to her waist. Her bikini bottom, meanwhile, had been completely and utterly consumed by her rear, rendered basically a g-string by its sheer volume. Where it wasn’t buried in assflesh, it dug deep into Isabelle’s flesh, and already she could feel some small parts of the fabric beginning to give way. There was absolutely no way it was going to survive for much longer. Her shirt, similarly, was on the verge of tearing into pieces. Certainly there was absolutely no way she was going to be able to button it up again. Her torso was just too much bigger, even without her breasts getting larger. And even if she somehow did manage to stretch it over her chest, it would barely have reached her armpits. Speaking of breasts, her bikini top was really more of a microbikini, just enough to cover her nipples, and thoroughly soaked through with milk.\n\nAnd this was just the second milestone.\n\nMake that the third milestone. By this point, the sensation of growth was getting to be almost familiar. A warmth, a tingling, a fullness. Comfortable, like being wrapped in a big, warm blanket on a cold winter day except sexy. “Mnnnn yeah that’s nice,” she muttered, rolling back over onto her back – it was nice to be able to feel her butt, but right now she had more urgent things to tend to that were more easily reached when she was lying face-up. One hand moved to rub at her puppy pussy through what was left of her bikini, while the other gave one of her tits a squeeze. Her efforts were rewarded with a squirt of milk and a conspicuous increase in tightness, localized in her chest.\n\n“Next milestone is fifteen feet!”\n\n“Looks like you’ve already figured out what the suggestion is.”\n\n“Gotta keep things even!”\n\nIsabelle wasn’t entirely sure she agreed with that last point, but she definitely wasn’t going to object to getting bigger milkers. She had never exactly been the most well endowed person on that particular front. On any front, really, but her butt had, at least, rectified that. And now her tits were following suit and it felt so fucking goooood. She removed her hand from down south – it wasn’t like she needed to touch herself to get off at this point – and brought it up to feel the other boob swelling disproportionate from the rest of her growth.\n\nAs a result, her bikini top was the first bit of clothing to go. It snapped at the shoulders and in the middle, and Isabelle quickly discarded the leftover fabric before returning to milking herself. The bottom followed suit quickly after that, similarly tearing at the sides where the structural integrity had already begun to compromise. Her shirt was next, but it held on a bit longer because there was a bit more that had to fail before it tore completely. There was a snapping, ripping noise as the stitches holding the sleeves tore at the armpits. That tear spread until the sleeves were entirely detached, and also spread down the sides of the shirt and the bottoms of the sleeves until the whole thing came apart surprisingly neatly into four separate pieces. Isabelle elected, after a very brief moment of thought, not to bother removing the scraps for now, they’d prolly fall off on their own, and she didn’t want to remove her hands from her boobs until they were done getting bigger.\n\nHer skirt, surprisingly, remained intact for now. Stretched just below the breaking point, but fighting admirably not to tear. Which was especially impressive considering that, in spite of being proportionally thinner than her chest and ass, her waist was still bigger around than her entire body had been at its thickest point before she’d started growing. It was actually somewhat frustrating – it was squeezing tightly around her abdomen, restricting bloodflow and digging in uncomfortably. She almost, almost reached down and tore it off herself. But Isabelle had a stubborn streak, and one that got a lot streakier when she was drunk. And right now that stubborn streak was determined to outgrow her clothing.\n\nIt took her a moment to realize that she had stopped growing. Her boobs were, of course, the star of the show. Easily on par with her ass, maybe slightly bigger. Which made sense, really – her ass didn’t have any extra size added by the whole milk production thing. It was a rough estimate, considering she didn’t exactly have the time to experiment, but given how full she felt and the rough amount of production she’d exhibited before her boobs got bigged, she figured that they’d probably range from around head sized at the smallest to head and a half at the biggest? Though, again, she hadn’t tested that, and she got the feeling that probably wasn’t going to stay the case for very much longer – unless it turned out that the viewers were only allowed to suggest a particular part get bigger once, which would be super boring.\n\nAnd, of course, on top of all of that, she was fifteen feet tall. Fifteen feet! There were entire buildings in New Leaf that were smaller than she was right now. Or at least, shorter than she was. In terms of raw volume of building, the average building probably outdid her. But whatever, that was semantics. The point was that she was currently as tall as three of her before she’d started growing, and this was only the beginning. The next milestone was likely to hit any second now and the only people who knew how big she was going to get from it were Timmy and Tommy.\n\n“We’ve hit the next milestone!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Isabelle mused.\n\n“No suggestion this time, it looks like they just want to see you grow.”\n\n“Mnn, I’m not gonna complain~” Isabelle said as the heat and tightness returned. It was, she supposed, a little disappointing that she was only going to get bigger this time. But on the other hand, the whole point of this was for her to get bigger, wasn’t it? That was why she’d suggested the concept in the first place, even if she’d not quite been consciously aware of that fact. She’d seen people drawing her taller and bustier than she was in real life and wanted to feel what it was like to be that big – or bigger. And, well, she’d more than shattered the six foot tall milestone with her first growth, and her boobs were well beyond D cups. So she didn’t particularly mind if her boobs didn’t get bigger than the frankly already kind of ridiculous head-sized behemoths they’d become. Though, now that she thought of it, the idea of her boobs becoming bigger than her current head-sized behemoths was undeniably appealing. Same with her ass. And that wasn’t even factoring in the possibility of other suggestions she’d not considered. This wasn’t really something she’d ever put a lot of thought into, but there were plenty of parts of her body that she could see getting bigger in a sexy way.\n\nThat all could wait until someone made a suggestion, though. She’d not expected that particular aspect to be a part of the appeal, but there was something deeply thrilling about it all being out of her hands. She was big and powerful, yes. And getting bigger and more powerful with every milestone. But she was also paradoxically completely powerless. Everything that happened to her was entirely at the whim of a group of strangers on the internet who she could easily wipe off the face of the earth with increasingly little effort with every milestone they gave her.\n\nIsabelle’s digression was interrupted by a loud snap as her skirt finally gave way to her waist. She had, unfortunately, been too distracted by thinking about growing to actually enjoy the growing and now it looked like she was just about done. Not that she’d not done so subconsciously, considering how quick and shallow her breathing was, the way she was writhing on the ground, hips bucking without any conscious input. Even now she was having a hard time focusing. Her brain felt like it was submerged in molasses, swimming in a thick soup of sludge that slowed everything to a crawl. Which wasn’t surprising, given the trend of feeling drunker every time she grew.\n\nA lazy grin spread across her face as she slowly attempted to stand up. Very slowly – the last time she’d tried this she’d been practically sober and had failed miserably. It took a while, and her gait was unsteady and wobbly even once she stood up fully. Really, she was only technically standing at all, about to fall right back on her drunk ass at any second. The only reason she’d bothered was to see if she could maybe get a point of comparison for how big she was.\n\nThe sparse trees on the island didn’t even reach her crotch, which was good enough for her. “How big ‘m I?”\n\n“Twenty five feet!”\n\n“Nice.” That absolutely made her officially taller than every building in New Leaf. Which, granted, wasn’t saying much – New Leaf wasn’t the biggest town in the world, and mostly the buildings didn’t go over two storeys. But still, even in terms of bigger towns she would have trouble fitting in the average street.\n\nSatisfied with having an actual concrete number, Isabelle allowed herself to collapse right back down onto her giant fucking ass, leaving a pair of big ol’ craters in the dirt.\n\n“Annnnd next milestone already!” That was fast, Isabelle thought to herself. Not that she minded – the faster the milestones came, the bigger she got. If anything, she almost wanted them to come faster. Every time she finished a growth spurt, there was always a pause before the next one came. She stopped growing, even if it was only for a few seconds. And sure, maybe that wasn’t something that was entirely avoidable. Some quirk of whatever it was that was facilitating all of this that prevented it from starting on the next milestone until the previous one was done, no matter how fast people donated. But that didn’t change the intense desire to just start getting bigger and never, ever stop. Each milestone flowing into the next smoothly, without any break.\n\n“Biggerrrrrrrr,” she groaned, voice low and rumbling, followed by a drunken hiccup. And bigger she got. That tightness returned with a vengeance, far more intense than it had been any of the previous times. Which made sense, because each milestone had been more than the last one. The first milestone had made her two feet taller, while the most recent one had jumped her up ten feet. And she could feel that this latest milestone was going to be significantly more than ten feet and it felt so fucking good.\n\nShe could feel her body sliding against the ground beneath her as it surged bigger and bigger, feel the sand underneath her feet where it hadn’t been before – and then shortly after that, she could feel her feet getting wet. That comfortably contoured crater her doggy derrière had created with her earlier colossal sit was very quickly rendered no longer comfortably contoured at all. That was an easy fix, of course. She grinned eagerly as she lifted her hips up and then sent them crashing down with a heavy thud. And then again, and again, over and over, each impact heavier and louder and biggerrrrrrr.\n\nIsabelle’s breathing came faster and shallower as, once again, she could feel a mounting orgasm. Her hands moved on reflex to expedite and encourage that process, darting down to her crotch and wrapping around the big, red, bone.\n\n“Ah. Think I’ve figured out what the suggestion was this time.”\n\nIt was difficult to get an exact estimate of just how big her cock was, given she wasn’t even sure exactly how tall she was at the moment. And even disregarding that, she was absolutely not in the headspace to do any of the mental math and size estimations required to figure out how big it was relative to her. Without resorting to exact numbers, though, she could safely say that it was probably big enough to give herself a boobjob and a blowjob at the same time without too much discomfort. It had a sort of pointed tip, widening slightly to a relatively uniform meaty sausage shape until it got to the base at which point it swelled outward into a massive fucking knot.\n\nIsabelle’s experience with knots was, admittedly, very limited – she didn’t get laid all that often. But still, she knew enough to know that they were typically not the size of your god damn head. Frankly it was almost unreasonably large, even in proportion to how unreasonably large everything else about her cock was. Big and fat and leaky and sensitive. Especially the knot, which her hands had already instinctively started giving most of the focus to. Squeezing and rubbing and groping at the firm surface until-\n\n“F-fuuuuuck!” Isabelle cried as she came. Copiously and vigorously, neither of which were surprising adverbs given the situation. Her hips resumed their pounding of the earth beneath her, though with less conscious input on Isabelle’s part – that was also not particularly surprising. Thick gouts shot into the air and then rained down on the beach, island, and her own colossal body alike. Honestly, she was surprised that she was as okay with this development as she was. Were she sober, she would probably be completely mortified. As it was, her inhibitions were basically reduced to nothing so she was mostly just enjoying how good this all felt.\n\nAnd this was still practically the beginning.\n\n“How big ‘m I?” she said, her words significantly slurred.\n\n“Fifty feet!”\n\n“Nice.” At this point she was probably getting close to outright outsizing the island this was all taking place on. Which probably should have been more worrying than it was, but again; she was very drunk right now and so it was difficult to care. “‘m gonna jerk off a bit, lemme know when I hit the next thingie.”\n\n“You already have!”\n\n“Oh.” If there was any downside to how fast these milestones were coming, it was the fact that she didn’t really get to savour a size before growing to the next size. Which, like, oh no what a tragedy she was going to get bigger. Darn.\n\n“We’re just about halfway done with the milestones, by the way,” one of the twins interjected – Isabelle was a bit too drunk to tell which one, which she felt a little bad about. She’d known them for almost a full decade, and in that time she’d gotten pretty good at telling them apart. But they were still identical twins, and they’d honestly always kinda leaned into that for as long as she’d known them. And so, through the haze of alcohol, it was almost impossible for her to pick up on the subtle differences in mannerisms that distinguished Timmy from Tommy. And she felt a bit guilty about that fact.\n\nStill, she was drunk, so she only felt guilty enough that it took her a few extra seconds to pick up on the fact that she was almost halfway through the growth already. “Oh.”\n\n“Don’t worry.”\n\n“We’ve got something in mind for after the last milestone.”\n\n“And the last milestone is pretty big-”\n\n“Without actually spoiling how big, of course!”\n\n“Of course! But the point is you’ve still got a ways to go before you’re done growing.”\n\n“And you’re going to be really big before you do!”\n\n“Okay, well, there’s that worry quashed!” she said, eagerly lying back and letting the next milestone wash over her. This was the sixth she’d hit, and by this point it was getting almost routine. That same heat bubbled up inside of her, spreading through her body and then beyond her body. And, of course, her body moved to keep up. She could feel herself spreading across more and more of the island, displacing copious amounts of sand and dirt in the process. Her feet, already being lapped at by the tide, quickly became outright submerged – followed shortly by her ankles and then her calves, until she was up to her knees in saltwater.\n\nOf course, everything else about her also grew. She was just mostly focused on her legs because of the sensation of cold seawater against her fur. And beyond that, there was something else. Not quite the same sensation as the growth, but similar. She could feel her bones shifting and changing – it almost hurt, and honestly were she more sober it probably would have hurt. There were sounds, visceral creaking and grinding. Her mind raced in an attempt to figure out what someone could possibly have suggested that resulted in this. Which probably wasn’t helped by the fact that, once again, getting bigger had also resulted in her getting drunker. Eventually, she decided that the only way she was going to resolve this would be to actually pull her legs out of the ocean and fucking look at them.\n\nOr to ask Timmy and Tommy, but by the time that particular course of action occurred to her she’d already gotten mostly started on plan A and besides she was gonna want to get herself out of the ocean at some point anyway.\n\nIsabelle had, as she’d gone over several times in her mind, always been somewhat petite in most ways. She wasn’t busty, wasn’t curvy, wasn’t tall, and she didn’t even have a particularly large shoe size. Most of that had, of course, since changed. Her bust was ample, her ass was fat, and she was at least bigger than fifty feet at this point. And... well, she wasn’t quite sure if her feet currently counted as bigger, beyond proportionally. It was more like they weren’t really even feet anymore so much as paws. Big, chunky, canine paws. The shape was too different for her to be entirely certain if they were bigger, but given recent trends, Isabelle could guess.\n\n“A hundred feet!”\n\n“Speaking of which, the suggestion was paws.”\n\n“Yeah, I noticed,” Isabelle replied, not entirely sure how she felt about that one. She’d already considered the possibility of things growing that she’d not considered growing. And, well, her feet were definitely on that list. It was definitely not something she’d have chosen left to her own devices, but part of the appeal of this whole thing was that she didn’t get to choose.\n\nAnd, well, she couldn’t deny that it felt good. Everything about this felt good. That made sense when it came to her boobs getting bigger or growing a penis. But even her ass getting bigger or her feet becoming paws or even just getting taller felt practically orgasmic. It also probably helped that her new paws covered a very significant portion of the island at this point. She was a hundred feet tall! And this was barely halfway through the milestones! Especially factoring in that each progressive one got more than the last, she simply couldn’t fathom how big she was going to get, considering that as of now if she were to lie down on Main Street back in New Leaf she’d probably take up the entire fucking thing.\n\nAnd she could already feel the next growth kicking in.\n\nThe ground rumbled beneath her ass as it grew. Everything else also grew, but right now it was her ass that was on the ground and so it was her ass that was making it shake beneath her as it took up more and more of the island. Practically the entire god damn beach was under her butt, and she could feel herself mowing over tree after tree after motherfucking tree. God, at this point it had to be as big across as she had been tall just a few minutes ago and it was only getting bigger and god it felt so fucking good. She’d been neglecting her cock since growing it, but now that she wasn’t distracted by seawater, she could feel it twitching and throbbing and just begging for attention. She reached down and gently rubbed it. She was careful to ensure that she didn’t give too much attention to the knot – it felt the best, to be sure, but she’d cum a lot today and wanted to take things just a little bit slower for a bit. Just a bit. Made it feel all the better when she decided to go fast again.\n\nAs a result, she could feel her growth slowing down before she even got close to climaxing this time. “No suggestion?”\n\n“Nope!”\n\n“You’re five hundred feet tall, by the way!”\n\n“Mmm, nice,” Isabelle muttered, continuing to languidly stroke. At this point she honestly didn’t care too much about exactly how big she was, or at least not in terms of numbers. She was much more interested in getting bigger than in knowing exactly how big she was. Although that wasn’t to say she didn’t appreciate the status updates she was being given. The problem was that after fifty feet or so, the numbers stopped really meaning anything. She’d spent almost her entire life in relatively small towns, and had only seen skyscrapers on TV and in movies. She didn’t think she’d ever actually directly encountered anything that was fifty feet tall in her entire life, much less five hundred. And they were only barely halfway done.\n\nAnd actually, given the way that the milestones seemed to be escalating, she was probably nowhere near half as big as she was going to get. If she stopped growing at a thousand feet she would be extremely surprised and just a bit disappointed.\n\nOf course, the audience wasn’t going to wait for her to finish her internal monologue. They probably weren’t even aware of her internal monologue, but even if they were they probably didn’t give a fuck. The whole point of this, after all, was to give them a show as she got bigger. And it wouldn’t be a very good show if she didn’t get bigger. So of course they were gonna throw money at making her get bigger already god dammit.\n\nNot that Isabelle was gonna complain. She bit her lip eagerly as that heat once again blossomed in the pit of her stomach. “Yesssssss,” she hissed. “Make me biggerrrrrrr~” She’d not really needed to say it – the audience would probably be more than happy to oblige were she not already growing. At this point Isabelle was almost certain that there was some sort of cooldown between milestones. She had to finish with one before she could hit another. Maybe they were even outright prevented from donating any more until she’d finished growing? She had mixed feelings about that, if she was honest. On the one hand, she wanted more, but on the other hand what she already had was frankly almost overwhelming as it was.\n\nBut whatever it wasn’t like she could influence how things were handled at this point. The best she could do would be to specify things that she’d like for them to suggest out loud, which she wasn’t going to do because that would be cheating. And so she might as well just enjoy herself as much as possible while things happened. She picked up the pace of her stroking, letting the sensations of growth wash over her. Actually really focusing on the sensation this time, lest she fucking not notice until it actually happened. Again. That was, she supposed, one big downside to doing this while hammered – concentrating was fucking difficult, especially factoring in how horny she was. Hell, even literally right now she was getting distracted from the growth by thinking about how she kept getting distracted by the growth. And, of course, her oversensitive knot and overfull balls certainly weren’t helping. But on the other hand she was pretty sure that Sober Isabelle wouldn’t be enjoying herself nearly as much. So, you know, it was a bit of a wash. Maybe next time have less vacation juice or something.\n\nIf she could even bring herself to do a next time. Even through the fog of alcohol, Isabelle could definitely tell that once she sobered up she was going to be absolutely fucking mortified and honestly couldn’t really blame herself for that because an indeterminate number of complete strangers and also quite possibly not complete strangers were currently watching her be extremely lewd. God, that was a horrifying thought. What if someone she fucking knew was watching? Drunk Isabelle didn’t much care, but that was mostly because Drunk Isabelle had decided that inhibitions were for fucking losers.\n\nThat was about as far as that train of thought got before she caught herself wandering off topic again. “Mnf, not this time,” she muttered to herself, redoubling her masturbation efforts. “‘m gonna enjoy this if it kills me.” She closed her eyes and focused as hard as she could on the growth. The feelings of tightness and fullness getting tighter and fuller, the increasing weight of her own body against itself, the heat, the friction of the ground as her body slid across it. The feeling of milk flowing from her chest and precum sliding down her shaft. Every foot, every inch, every god damn centimetre washed over her and it felt so fucking good. “Mnffffff~” Her breath came fast and shallow and her hips bucked uncontrollably. Once again, she felt her paws get wet and she didn’t care. She felt her head get wet and she didn’t fucking care. She just kept right on jerking off until finally she found herself tumbling headlong over the edge, erupting forth with gout after gout of thick doggy cum.\n\nSadly, Isabelle’s orgasm couldn’t possibly last forever. Eventually, she found herself coming down. She didn’t exactly have a clock on hand, so she had no idea exactly how long she’d cum for. But she’d enjoyed every god damn second of it without letting her mind drift off topic again, and that was the important thing. Though, on the other hand, technically she’d not really been able to enjoy the last few hundred feet of growth because she’d been busy cumming, but fucking whatever, it was good enough. Her next goal, then, was to keep up that level of focus for the next growth spurt, and the one after that, ad nauseum until she was done with growth spurts. Which was, frankly, a bit of a tall order. Once again, getting bigger had also equated to getting drunker. And that, in turn, meant that focusing was only going to get harder and harder as she got bigger and bigger.\n\nAnd speaking of getting harder, boy howdy was she still ragingly erect. She had cum plastered all over her face and chest, to say nothing of the fact that the clear blue tropical ocean looked just a little less clear and a little more off-white than it had been. God, how much had she even cum? Considering she was at least bigger than five hundred feet, there was no way that even gallons would be an accurate measurement. Beyond what there were convenient units of measurement for and into weird obscure shit like megalitres. And yet, in spite of all of that, she was still practically on the edge of cumming all the fuck over again.\n\n“How big?” she managed to grunt out, just barely holding on to a semblance of coherency. Who fucking knew if she’d even be capable of asking how big she’d gotten with the next milestone.\n\n“A thousand feet!”\n\n“Good. More.”\n\n“Coming right up, ma’am!”\n\n“And you’ve got a suggestion, too!”\n\n“Good. More.” Honestly, Isabelle was probably capable of at least more than two words of response, even if anything polysyllabic was probably beyond her. She just didn’t care to say more than what was absolutely essential. Most of her focus was on how good it felt to rub her shaft, and on the slowly building sensation of the oncoming milestone. Well, okay, she did pause very briefly when she realized that oh yes right her head and feet were in the water, she should probably sit up before she got fully submerged. She might have been too drunk to bother with modesty, but she wasn’t yet drunk enough where she was going to risk drowning herself.\n\nOf course, she was drunk enough that actually getting from “lying” to “sitting” was easier said than done. Somehow, she could to masturbate just fine, but when she attempted to sit up her every muscle felt like jello. Mildly annoying, but the worst case scenario was that she’d get a little bit wet – if there was really any danger of her drowning they’d likely have picked a bigger deserted island. Or, you know, somewhere inland, like the Sahara or Death Valley or something else big and empty and not surrounded by water on all sides in such a way that she was inevitably not going to fit even if she did stand up. Still, even if she was intellectually confident enough that she probably wasn’t in any real danger, there was still a non-zero chance of something bad happening. She didn’t want to risk her head being fully submerged while she was so drunk that transitioning from lying to not lying was as difficult as it was. You know, just in case. And so, with a herculean effort on her part, Isabelle sloooooowly pulled herself upright. She wasn’t gonna be standing any time soon, that much was certain, but now that she had gotten there, she was confident she could at least sit.\n\nAnd oh man did she sit. In the time that she’d been distracted by her brief ordeal, much of the milestone had already happened. A little bit disappointing, but something of a necessity. Ideally, she’d be able to enjoy every inch, but in this particular case she figured that not running the risk of drowning was probably a little worth it. For now. Besides, the milestone wasn’t done. Hell, given how she felt, it had probably barely even gotten started. She felt heavy and full, much more than any previous milestone. And getting heavier and fuller even as she felt hundreds of feet pile on at a time. God, the fact that more than twenty times her starting height at a time was slow growth was fucking mind-boggling. And they were only barely past halfway through the milestones apparently.\n\nIsabelle closed her eyes and let the sensation of size wash over her. Immersed herself in the growth. And, sure enough, just like pretty much every other time there was a suggestion, there was something else beneath it all. Something more, something bigger. Her breathing came quickly and shallowly in sharp, jerky gasps. And she could feel her heartbeat getting heavier, feel every individual fucking blood cell flowing through her veins. In contrast to most of the other milestones, which she had struggled to focus on through the haze of alcohol, this time she felt almost hyper-aware of her body. Almost as though she’d sobered up a bit?\n\nWithout any conscious input, her muscles tensed up, and then her whole body convulsed as they surged bigger. And then again and again and again. She could immediately feel the difference. Even the slightest movement felt completely effortless. There wasn’t anything nearby she could try lifting, but she got the impression that very little could really challenge her. Her whole body felt noticeably lighter. And she was ripped. Fuck, she was beyond ripped. Isabelle had never been one for working out. She kept active, usually in the form of the occasional walk around town when she had the time (which was rarely). But oh man, if someone who looked like she did now tried to claim as such she wouldn’t fucking believe them. She looked like she lived in the gym 24/7, and even then was probably helped along by some performance enhancers.\n\nIdly, she flexed an arm, and produced a bicep that was intimidatingly large. She didn’t currently know how big she was, so she couldn’t really put into words exactly how massive it was. But she wouldn’t be entirely surprised, given how much of the island she was currently taking up (all of it) if it turned out to be the size of a small mountain or maybe even bigger. “I, uh. I think I know what the suggestion was.”\n\n“You’re five thousand feet, by the way!”\n\n“For the record, your butt is currently wider than you were tall at the last milestone!”\n\nOnce again, Isabelle found her breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t sure how she kept getting caught off guard by her size. It wasn’t like this was the first time an individual bodypart managed to outsize her entire body at an earlier milestone. Hell, her hands were probably big enough to hold all of Main Street back in New Leaf. But, well. There was something about hearing specifically that her ass was wider than she was tall before the last growth still managed to surprise her even though it shouldn’t.\n\nSomewhat more tangible was the fact that currently her butt took up the entire island. More than the entire island, if she was technical – it extended past the part that was above water and well into the shallows of the coastline. Her legs outright extended into the open ocean as the depth quickly escalated, leaving her thighs mostly above water and her calves and feet completely submerged (for now, at least.)\n\nOf course, that only really managed to hold her attention for a moment, before her shaft re-asserted its presence. While she didn’t really regret her decision to not stay lying down, it did result in the unforeseen complication that it was currently wedged between her boobs. “Mnf,” she grunted, trying really hard not to think about it and failing miserably.\n\nAlthough, on further thought, why the fuck was she trying not to think about it? There was absolutely no reason not to just titfuck herself right here and now beyond maybe the possibility that the next suggestion (if there even was a next suggestion) would maybe impact things somewhat. If someone suggested making her boobs bigger, she’d much rather titfuck herself with said bigger boobs. Even though frankly her boobs were already pretty fucking huge. Even just looking at things proportionally, they were still bigger than her head. In terms of actual size, they were colossal. She was, after all, five thousand feet tall, and so her head was already pretty fucking big. In spite of having sobered up just a little bit, any kind of unit conversion was still well beyond her, but she had to be pushing a mile by now.\n\n“Just under a mile by a few hundred feet!” one of the twins helpfully interjected.\n\n“Or just about a kilometre and a half, if you want to use metric.”\n\n“‘m okay with not using metric for now.” There were frankly already too many numbers for Isabelle to keep track of without bringing metric onto the table.\n\n“Okay!”\n\n“I think you’ll appreciate knowing that you currently weigh about fifty million tons, though. About three point four million of which is boob.”\n\n“Mnf. You’re right about that.”\n\n“And in theory you should be able to lift about two point five billion tons before you’d start having any problems.”\n\n“Though obviously there’s not really much that’s even close to that weight except for you.”\n\nIsabelle let out a low groan and a few gouts of precum. She’d never really considered the possibility of getting off just from hearing some numbers but boy howdy was that a very real possibility right now. Really the only thing that kept her from that point was the fact that they were out of numbers to give her.\n\nThat, and the fact that she could feel the next milestone bubbling up in the pit of her stomach. All of those numbers really only applied before she got any bigger, and it wasn’t like there had been any real time in between any of the previous milestones. Hell, she was almost surprised it had taken this long for another to hit. Once again, she found her breath coming faster and her hips thrusting of their own volition. Which meant that she ended up titfucking herself anyway – might as well just embrace it. She reached up and squeezed them around her cock, pumping them up and down around it against the grain of her thrusting and oh god did it feel so fucking good. She was absolutely going to have to figure out a way to do this on demand. Or, like, at least the cock and tits and maybe the ass, too, if she was feeling spicy.\n\n“Next milestone!” one of the twins said, confirming her suspicions. She probably didn’t really need them confirmed, but it was at least nice to know for sure before the growth actually started. “No suggestion this time, just the growth.” That might have been the other twin, or it might have been the same twin. Once again, she was having a hard time keeping track of which was which. Maybe she hadn’t sobered up quite as much as she thought she had. Whatever, she had higher priorities. Like, for instance, that low rumbling noise as her body began to grow again.\n\nOnce again, Isabelle focused as hard as she could on the sensations of growth. Which was, admittedly, made kinda difficult by the still-ongoing auto-titfuck. That particular thing was taking an awful lot of her focus. But god dammit she was determined. She’d already ended up missing yet another growth spurt because she’d gotten distracted. She wasn’t going to let this one pass her by too. No matter how good it felt. The way her thick muscular thighs had to spread apart to make room for her fat, full balls as they swelled fatter and fuller with the coming load. The way her oversensitive knot rubbed against her abs, the rougher surface practically agonizing, and getting moreso as her knot swelled up bigger and more sensitive as her climax approached. The sensation of hot cockflesh against soft boob, the way her shaft throbbed and thrust and the way her boobs leaked from the pressure of shaft and hand alike. The way her breath came faster, the mounting tightness in her chest and loins, and the way getting bigger made everything feel better, more sensitive, the way the wind rushed against her growing body and especially against her shaft until she just couldn’t take it anymore and erupted.\n\nThough perhaps a hurricane would have been a more apt analogy than a volcano. Certainly the way her hips collided with the ground was akin enough to seismic activity. Literally earth-shattering. The island was... well, there was almost certainly nothing left of it anymore. Flattened beneath her gigantic ass as it slammed against the ground, over and over, with enough force to create fucking tsunamis. And speaking of tsunamis, her legs thrashed and convulsed and oh boy did that result in some fucking tsunamis.\n\nAnd, of course, countless billions of gallons of cum went rocketing into the sky. Okay, yes, maybe that was an overstatement on her part. But she honestly didn’t know for sure. She probably couldn’t tell you how productive she would be with the same proportions but a normal height. At this point her output might as well be infinite, especially considering she’d cum an awful lot today and there were no signs she was going to stop any time soon. Once this current orgasm finally slowed down (roughly in time with her growth spurt, damn) she found herself still extremely erect.\n\nAlthough, now that she’d come down from the buildup to cumming again, she noticed that she’d decidedly run out of land on which to park herself. Beyond just taking up the entire island, beyond even taking up the island and also the shallows with her legs dangling into the ocean proper, now she was just plain out of island entirely. It felt kind of like she was sitting on a dome-shaped stool that was both far too tall and far too narrow for her to be sitting on it. It would probably be more comfortable for her to risk venturing out in the ocean proper. She wasn’t entirely sure if she could reach the ocean floor standing up, but frankly she was willing to run the risk of having to swim for like five seconds tops before she grew again.\n\nOf course, that meant that for those five seconds tops she had to tread water while still extremely drunk. Mostly she had to rely on natural buoyancy – which, thankfully, wasn’t exactly in short supply considering the size of her tits and ass. “We probably could have put a bit more thought into this,” she said as she floated idly.\n\n“You could have stayed on the island for at least one more milestone.”\n\n“It was riding up my ass something fierce.”\n\n“Fair enough. You’re ten thousand feet tall, by the way. Just under two miles.”\n\n“Mnf.” Did Isabelle mention that she was still rock hard? Because she was. And hearing that particular number was enough to make the ocean in front of her bubble just a little as a result of the gout of precum.\n\n“Annnnnd it looks like you’ve already hit another milestone. Suggestion, too, this time!”\n\nIsabelle didn’t bother trying to respond this time. What would she even say that she hadn’t already said, anyway? Better to just let the growth be the star of the show. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her. The weight piled on, and on and on and on, ton upon ton piling onto her. She could feel the seawater as her increasingly massive form displaced more and more and more until, quite abruptly, she found herself no longer floating. Her head was still above the water, but her paws had touched ground. And she was still growing too, more and more of her body slooooowly creeping up out of the ocean. At some point she’d started jerking off, though she wasn’t entirely sure when and frankly she didn’t care.\n\nShe picked up the pace, hips bucking and tail wagging with enough enthusiasm that it was probably at least mildly apocalyptic at this point. Certainly, anywhere coastal nearby was fucked. And, with the way the ocean was foaming with her cum was also probably not great for the sealife. Whatever, though, they could fucking deal. She had other priorities right now. Like, for instance, how tight she felt. Especially in the chest. Once again, she didn’t really need to ask what the suggestion was. “Looks like someone was really fucking thirsty,” she muttered to herself as she watched even more white liquid slowly spread across the surface of the ocean. At this point she didn’t even have to milk herself – it was like her baseline level of “kind of leaky” was more than a match for how actively squeezing them had been mere moments ago and oh hell was it fucking hot.\n\nAnd, of course, all the while, she continued to grow bigger overall. Thinking quickly, Isabelle shifted her arms so that they squeezed her filling chest without actually letting go of her cock – because that would be just a tragedy, but also she was getting full to the point where it honestly kinda hurt. This helped, in that she got... like, any release at all. But it wasn’t quite enough, which was mildly annoying but also kind of hot. At this point her boobs had gone from around the size of her head to twice that just from raw milk volume, and getting bigger. At her current height, they floated slightly on the surface of the ocean, bobbing up and down slightly to the rhythm of the tide and also her own slight movements. Or at least, that’s what it was like from her perspective. To a more reasonably sized person it was probably a lot more tumultuous.\n\nSlowly, her actual growth slowed down to down to a crawl before coming to a stop, leaving her still mostly submerged, but significantly less so than she had been. If the ocean was a pool, she had moved from the shallowest parts of the deep end to the deepest parts of the shallow end, the waterline reaching up to just slightly above her navel and below her armpits. “Twenty thousand feet!” One of the twins clarified.\n\n“Just under four miles.”\n\nThat was a lot. And there were still milestones to go. God, they had to be almost done, right? This wasn’t exactly the deepest part of the ocean, but it wasn’t exactly shallow either. And, as she’d kind of mentally gone over earlier, her... enthusiasm had resulted in some very big waves. And if this wasn’t the end then who fucking knew how much more problems she was going to cause. “So, uh, how much more is there gonna be?”\n\n“Just two more milestones to go!”\n\n“And after that we’ve got a final surprise round for you.”\n\n“Surprise?”\n\n“You’ll like it, we promise.”\n\n“If you’re sure...” Some of that early reluctance was creeping back in as the alcoholic buzz finally started to wear off. Not enough that she had any regrets or reservations, of course, but enough for her to be just a bit worried.\n\n“Don’t worry, we’ve got contingencies in place. You can get as big as you like, and the world’ll be fine.”\n\n“Okay,” Isabelle replied. Honestly, she had a bit of an inkling that was gonna be the case anyway. After all, this situation was already breaking several rules of physics and biology, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that any destruction she caused wouldn’t be permanent. Or something. Like she’d mused waaaay back at the beginning, this was all basically magic anyway.\n\n“Ah, make that one milestone left.”\n\nOh. Isabelle had been wondering what was taking so long. Though, granted, she didn’t exactly have any way of telling time. So she didn’t have much in the way of a frame of reference for how long it took in between each milestone finishing and the next one beginning. Probably generally no more than a minute per. Maybe this had taken longer than normal or maybe it hadn’t, she didn’t know. It wouldn’t surprise her if things slowed down a bit, though. It made logical sense – they had hit, what, ten milestones? Eleven? Somewhere around there. And, granted, when it came to giving money to attractive women over the internet, people’s pockets tended to be pretty fucking deep. But on the other hand, she had to imagine that the audience only had so much collective money to donate. So obviously as the stream went on, more people would have already donated all they could afford and she’d be left with those handful of people willing to donate more than they could afford. And she couldn’t imagine there were that many of them. Probably.\n\nThough, frankly, at this point, Isabelle could not possibly give fewer fucks about the nitty gritty details of how much money she was making behind the scenes. That was for Sober Isabelle to worry about. From Drunk Isabelle’s perspective, all that mattered was that she kept hitting milestones and kept getting bigger. Even if this was the second to last of ‘em. Were she a bit more sober, she’d want to take things a lot slower. Savour each individual stage of growth, and maybe take some time to play around with the more interesting suggestions. But, again, even if she was more sober than she had been, she still decidedly wasn’t. And she’d never exactly been a patient drunk.\n\nAnd so, while her mind allowed itself to get distracted by thinking about finances and the rate at which she was hitting milestones and dumb shit like that, her body was content to squeeze her tits as she started to grow again. And grow and grow and growwwwwwww. At twenty thousand feet, she was already unfathomably huge. Honesty, she’d been unfathomably huge at ten thousand feet and then her height had doubled. She had long since passed the kind of scale that she could even slightly wrap her head around. The only thing even approaching a frame of reference she had was that she was standing on the ocean floor and yet the water level only came up to just below her armpits and just above her navel.\n\nMake that just below her navel and just above her crotch. And then not long after that it was almost exactly crotch-level, leaving her massive fucking dong floating on the ocean’s surface, erupting with gout upon gout of cum. Apparently she’d climaxed at some point? She wasn’t exactly sure when, which might have been concerning if she weren’t so distracted by how good it felt to get bigger while squeezing her massive fucking tits. Speaking of unreasonable volumes of fluid. No matter how much she squeezed they still felt so fucking tight and full and getting fuller and tighter and bigger. She barely even had to squeeze them anymore because they just sort of grew against her hands on their own. She was clearly going to have to try a different tactic if she was going to get even a little bit of relief on that front.\n\nThinking quickly, she shifted her grip and lifted them both up to her mouth. Which, really, went much smoother than she’d expected initially. Probably the superstrength helping things along. But thanks to their sheer size, it did still take some finagling before she got both boobs such that she could suck on both nipples at the same time. Which, it turned out, didn’t actually really help all that much. It was a good thing that being so fucking overfull felt good rather than painful.\n\nIt was, Isabelle mused in a brief moment of lucidity, extremely lucky that however they were doing this in the first place they’d accounted for that. Because otherwise the lactation would have been really unpleasant and basically ruin the whole experience beyond salvaging. As it was, it didn’t matter too much that she could only barely keep on top of her extreme lactation by sucking and squeezing – if there was any more boob here, she would be completely overwhelmed.\n\nAnd, as if on cue, Isabelle felt a pair of electric jolts, directly below her tits, that blossomed into sharp spikes of arousal. A familiar tightness and fullness that escalated as her new second pair of boobs grew in. They quickly approached her original set in terms of raw size and productivity, and she could feel her torso stretching longer in order to accommodate them. And then longer still once she sprouted a third god damn pair of massive milkers. God, she could barely handle one pair of excessively lactating tits. That second pair felt almost more sensitive than the original, and the third pair even more than that. Like it wasn’t just adding on a pair of equally sensitive tits for each set she grew, but multiplying the sensitivity of what she already had on top of that. It didn’t help that they were very heavy, pressing into each other in ways that one pair just plain couldn’t. With a quiet “A-ahn!” of arousal, her arms abruptly gave out on her, causing her initial pair to leave her mouth and flop heavily on top of the new pairs.\n\nAllowing that to happen was, it turned out, a staggeringly, catastrophically poor idea on Isabelle’s part. The impact was heavy, and they bounced off of each other in a delightfully agonizing way. Isabelle came again, in spite of the fact that she’d barely finished her last orgasm, and then again and again, over and over again in what felt like a feedback loop of arousal.\n\n“Fifty thousand feet! About nine and a half miles!” Isabelle barely registered the interjection. Between how insanely horny she was, the extra boobs amplifying that horniness, and the fact that maybe she’d overestimated how much she’d sobered up, all she really got from that was that she was fucking big. It probably didn’t help that, once again, she was way beyond what she had a frame of reference for. If you were to start in the middle of New Leaf and started walking north until you reached nine and a half miles away, Isabelle could not fucking tell you where you where you’d end up. However, going by her earlier metaphor of the ocean as a pool, it had gone from standing in the deepest part of the shallow end to the shallow end of the shallow end. It just barely didn’t quite reach her knees. Again; the ocean didn’t reach her knees.\n\n“Also, the suggestion was extra boobs, but you’ve prolly figured that one out.”\n\nIsabelle responded with a low, rumbling gurgle as she came again. Words were, unfortunately, just a little bit beyond her at the moment.\n\n“It’s okay, you just hit the last milestone.”\n\n“There’s just the surprise phase left and then you can take some time to calm down.”\n\n“Fuuuuuuck,” was all Isabelle could manage in response. That, and another few climaxes. The strength vacated her legs – honestly she was surprised that it took that long to get that point, even with her newfound mountainous muscles – and she fell onto her knees and then backwards, her big fat ass squeezing around her calves and paws.\n\nHer mind wandered back to her butt. It had been the first part of her body to really start growing. Well, technically the milk had been the first change. And obviously, if you wanted to get really technical than her height beat out both of them. But the first suggestion to specifically make an individual body part disproportionately bigger had gone to her ass. Now, of course, it wasn’t particularly impressive, relatively speaking. Between her boobs being biggened and getting two levels of milkiness, in addition to an extra two pairs, her chest easily drew all of the attention. Her butt was large, but her boobs were a level beyond large. She felt almost nostalgic in a weird sorta way. Like she missed feeling her ass and thinking “Wow, this is gigantic!” Oh, Isabelle, you sweet summer child. If only you knew. Idly, she found her hands wandering down to once again give her butt a squeeze.\n\nThis was a good decision because her hands grabbed her ass exactly in time with it beginning to grow. Not just in proportion to the rest of her, either. No, this was absolutely a suggestion. Weight piled onto her ass, by the thousands or maybe even millions of tons. She could feel it spreading across her legs, her calves and paws sinking deeper and deeper. So did her hands, though sinking wasn’t quite the right word. More like it grew around them, slowly consuming them. She grinned and began to squeeze and grope and knead it like it was fucking pizza dough. And all the while it kept getting bigger and fatter, quickly rivalling her breasts and then matching them and then fucking surpassing them. Her hips widened and thighs thickened ever so slightly in order to provide the bare minimum required support for her colossal cake, but even then it was disproportionately huge. Each cheek felt like it was, like, three times the size of her fucking head – well beyond her tits, even at their fullest.\n\nAnd, of course, she was also just plain getting taller on the side. Couldn’t just gloss over that. Most of her attention was understandably directed rearward, but there was also the way that air rushed against her fur and the ocean got more and more displaced as she got bigger and bigger. It felt good. Unbelievably, unimaginably good. Like nothing she’d ever felt before, though at this point that particular string of words had practically lost all fucking meaning.\n\nBut whatever, she didn’t really care at this point. This had been going on for so long at this point, and it hadn’t ever really de-escalated from Maximum Arousal At All Times and if anything had just gotten more intense with each milestone and each suggestion. Was it any wonder that she could barely process what was happening to her anymore? Shit, she still hadn’t stopped cumming from the last milestone, which was probably the only reason that the sensation of her ass getting bigger hadn’t set her off. Or just, like, growy feelings in general. There was a lot goin’ on that was super fucking orgasmic, it was no wonder she had been cumming for the past however fucking long it had even been she didn’t know it wasn’t like they made clocks in her size.\n\nAt some point she might have stopped growing. She wasn’t even entirely sure at this point. Her brain felt like mush and her body felt like horny. Thinking was hard, cumming was easy, so she just did the latter for now. Hopefully, now that she was out of milestones, she’d be able to cool down a bit. Just... stop, if only for a moment. Calm down, finish off her climax, and reclaim just a little bit of coherency. She’d cum a lot, and it definitely felt good. But, well, at this point she’d decidedly hit “too much of a good thing” levels. Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself, mind. But she wasn’t even capable of parsing if she was done yet and that was mildly worrying.\n\n“That’s the last milestone done!” She only barely registered one of the twins interjecting, confirming that she had, in fact, stopped.\n\n“One hundred thousand feet! Just under ninteteen miles!”\n\n“That puts you pretty solidly in the middle of the stratosphere!”\n\n“Oh.” That was all Isabelle could manage, especially considering that she still hadn’t finished cumming yet. It wasn’t like this was one continuous orgasm, but it felt like every time one was winding down the next had already started and so it might as well have just been one continuous orgasm. But, hey, on the plus side, at least they were done.\n\n“Just the surprise round to go.”\n\nOh. Right. That thing they’d mentioned. “What even is the surprise round?” she tried to say but all she managed was a slightly gurgly “Wha?”\n\nLuckily, the twins did at least manage to parse what Isabelle was talking about, even if Isabelle herself couldn’t. “Now that we’ve hit every milestone, everyone watching has ten minutes to donate as much money as they can afford. Once the ten minutes are up, we run a few calculations based on how much got donated and how big you already are and a few other details and then we get a multiplier.”\n\n“Multiplier?” It took a lot of concentration for Isabelle to manage such a polysyllabic response, and she was pretty sure that was going to be the last of ‘em until she had some time to cool down. Which apparently she wasn’t getting any time soon?\n\n“Basically we take the number of feet tall you are and then multiply it and that’s how many feet your final height is.”\n\n“Oh.” Once again, Isabelle was extremely not in the state of mind to do any kind of higher math. But she didn’t really need to do any kind of higher math to realize that just about anything times a hundred thousand was going to be a very big number. Assuming that “one” wasn’t going to be an option, then her absolute minimum final height was going to be two hundred thousand feet. She didn’t know how many miles that was but honestly she was already almost twenty miles tall which was almost twenty more miles than she’d ever expected herself to get. “Well, um. That’s nice?” Okay, it seemed like a series of one syllable words was something that she could manage. “Let me know when it’s done,” she continued. She wanted a little bit of advanced notification so that she could brace herself for however catastrophically big she ended up getting.\n\n“Oh, the ten minutes are already up.”\n\n“what.”\n\n“The multiplier is thirty, which is going to put your final height at three million feet, or about five hundred and sixty three miles.”\n\n“what.”\n\n“The growth should be kicking in rrrrrright about now.”\n\nAt first, it seemed like nothing was happening. Hell, her orgasm even seemed to be winding down. There was none of the heat, none of the tighness, none of the telltale signs of an impending growth spurt. Which was especially odd considering that she was apparently about to grow thirty times taller. One would think that, if anything, those feelings would be more intense this time. She opened her mouth to say as much, but all that came out was a strained croaking noise, which was the first sign that no actually something was absolutely happening this time, Isabelle.\n\nThe second sign was the low rumbling. She wasn’t sure whether it was coming from her or from the ground beneath her. Or, fuck it, maybe from both at the same time? Honestly she felt like she might have trouble telling even discounting the whole drunk and aroused-to-the-point-she-was-barely-coherent things she had going on. All she knew was that something was making earthquake noises.\n\nIsabelle tried once again to say something and found that this time no sound came out at all. She tried to move and she couldn’t, every single muscle completely locked up. She tried to think and honestly even that seemed to be beyond her at this point? And yet, in spite of that, she still didn’t feel anything. She should, by all rights, have felt something by now. The fact that she didn’t should honestly have been extremely worrying, but honestly all she could feel was anticipation. She knew that it was coming, and the longer she went without feeling anything, the more certain she was that when she did feel something it was going to be fucking mind-blowing. More than mind-blowing. At this point her mind had already been blown and this was already shaping up to be far more intense. Again. Once again, she kept being so thoroughly convinced that her pleasure had escalated as far as it was even possible to escalate and then it proceeded to escalate more.\n\nThough, on the other hand, it hadn’t actually escalated just yet. It was entirely possible that she was just hyping herself up way too much and then it was going to happen and be a disappointing wet fart. Considering the earthquake noises and the fact that she couldn’t move, though, she was pretty sure that it wasn’t gonna be a wet fart.\n\nBut, then, that raised another worrying possibility; what if it was too good? The earlier milestones had already reduced Isabelle to a quivering, barely verbal mess, and this was literally thirty times her current height. What if she didn’t bounce back from this? Like, this all felt good, yeah. But not quite good enough that she was comfortable with being permanently reduced to a gibbering, pleasure-drunk mess. Was that even in the cards, or was she just psyching herself up. Much like her earlier concerns of drowning, she extremely doubted there was any real danger to her – or else Tom would one hundred percent have not allowed things to get nearly this far. Say what you will about Tom Nook, the man was a stickler for rules and safety. Hell, maybe that was why she was feeling nothing, though if that was the case then it was honestly just a bit disappointing. But, still, she’d rather there be some kind of safety measures in place preventing her mind from breaking, or the throes of her orgasms from wiping out civilization, or preventing her from accidentally drowning herself.\n\nThough, of course, at this point those particular fears were extremely long since past. At this point, even considering she was kneeling, the ocean barely came up over her knees. If she were standing, it would maybe reach up to the bottoms of her calves, maybe. Even if she were to lie down, she’d have to go out of her way to submerge her mouth. It was less an ocean and more a particularly deep puddle.\n\nAnd one that was getting less deep by the second.\n\nThat was enough for Isabelle to force her locked-up muscles to move once more. Which was good because like hell was she passing up the opportunity to jerk off while she grew this time. Her muscles rippled and bulged with the movement, reminding her just how big they were. She carefully manoeuvred herself so that her arms pressed into her tits while reaching down to grasp her shaft, squeezing all six together, unleashing what had to be quadrillions of gallons of liquid or maybe even more. She was probably in more danger of drowning in milk than she was of drowning in the ocean, frankly. Trying not to let that distract her from the goal, she placed her hands on her giant fucking knot and gently rubbed.\n\nShe was rewarded for that with a thick gout of precum that made the average orgasm look like nothing, even discounting the fact that at this point she was probably pushing a hundred miles tall and still not done growing. And that was just touching. An eager grin slowly spread across Isabelle’s face as she began to stroke, each one milking out another increasingly massive bursts of precum. And god did it feel fucking good. No longer was she feeling nothing – all of the pleasure had returned and then some. The tightness, the fullness, the leakiness, the throbbing and pulsing and growing and growing and groooooowinggggggg~\n\nAn idle grin spread across Isabelle’s face, her jaw hanging open so as to allow her long, canine tongue to limply drape out. Her breathing came fast and shallow as she slowly picked up the pace of her masturbation, going from languid strokes to furious jerks. Each one caused her arms to flex, alternately squeezing and releasing her tits, resulting in an ebb and flow of milk that pretty quickly became less ebb and much more flow. Her hips rocked, wiggling her big fat ass against her chunky paws and bulging calves and thick thighs. And all the while she got bigger and heavier and hornier. She could hear the ground beneath her creaking and groaning which was probably a bad sign but she didn’t care. She just kept fapping, faster and faster and faster until she just couldn’t hold back anymore. With a low, rumbling moan, she collapsed backwards, legs splaying out and hips bucking with literal earth-shattering force as she came.\n\nIt was, unsurprisingly, more intense than any other climax she’d had. Even the one that had lasted through multiple growth spurts. This one, she was fairly sure, didn’t last nearly as long – although really it was hard to tell – but it made up for it in intensity and volume. She was pretty sure that her cum had achieved escape velocity. She also made a point of not looking down to see the impact craters of her ass, no doubt several miles deep. Which, like, hot. But she didn’t particularly want to acknowledge the sheer amount of destruction she’d caused in the throes of pleasure. Instead she just stayed lying down and blushed furiously as the last dregs of her orgasm oozed down her shaft.\n\n“You probably shouldn’t get up,” one of the twins interjected.\n\n“At this point you’re tall enough you’d be in the exosphere.”\n\n“Air isn’t a problem, but you might bump your head on a satellite.”\n\n“Duly noted.” Isabelle wasn’t exactly versed in the layers of the atmosphere, but she was pretty sure that the exosphere was the part that was basically just outer space. Which was yet further motivation to just sort of stay put. Not that she could get up if she fucking wanted to – her legs felt like jelly. Instead, she looked up at the sky, trying not to give too much attention to the dregs of cum that she could just barely see floating in the distance. “I think I’m gonna have a nap. Wake me when I’m back to normal.”\n\n“Will do, ma’am.”\n\n“And boys?”\n\n“Yes?”\n\n“Next time, like, twice as much vacation juice.”", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "“Okay, so I’ve got some things I think need to be said?”

“Shoot. We’ve got time until the setup’s done.”

Isabelle shifted uncomfortably. “I can understand the need to do occasional fundraisers to help with the community. We can’t pay for everything with tax dollars or out of the mayor’s pocket.”

“Well, most if not all of the mayor’s bells came from selling things at Nook’s Cranny. Same with pretty much everyone in town, really.”

“Right! We’ve got to inject new funds into the system somehow. That part I understand. What I don’t understand is... Well, first off, why me?”

“Don’t underestimate yourself! You’re quite popular on that newfangled internet thing, you know.”

“Yeah, Tom, I know,” Isabelle replied, shivering slightly as she recalled the handful of times she’d googled herself. She’d never really expected, or even wanted to become famous, and especially not the particular way she’d become famous. But... Well, there was something about being unable to google yourself without stumbling on several very indecent pictures, typically with much larger breasts than normal, that made her feel things that she couldn’t quite put words to but she was pretty sure weren’t good.

“It’s like you said when you suggested this, there’s a lot of people who would pay very good money to see you get, ah, bigger.”

“Right see that’s the other thing.” Isabelle writhed in the simple folding beach chair some more as she tried to ignore the fact that this was her idea in the first place.

“Don’t worry, it’s just stage fright. Give yourself some time to get into the groove, as it were.”

“I guess...” Truth be told, Isabelle hadn’t actually expected anyone to figure out how to magically make her grow, let alone livestreaming it to the internet, let alone tying it to donations? Somehow? She didn’t pretend to understand the logistics, and no one she asked could give her an adequate explanation either. Maybe nanobots or something like that? Honestly, for all she knew it was literally magic, which also probably explained how they were livestreaming this in spite of the lack of visible cameras. Or, fuck, maybe there were hidden cameras in the trees or maybe it was drones or something. She wasn’t entirely sure whether or not she was uncomfortable with the whole situation yet, but she’d elected to just take things as they came for the moment.

“Treat it like a big vacation,” Tom said – if he noticed the way Isabelle cringed when he used the word ‘big’, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Just relax. You’re on a big empty tropical island with a whole cooler full of vacation juice.”

“I’m a scotch person, Tom, you know that.”

“Scotch is expensive, vacation juice is not,” Tom replied firmly. “I’ve got to go, ah, get out of the blast radius. As it were. Is your earpiece in firmly?”

“Yeah,” Isabelle said, though she reflexively checked to make sure anyway. She wasn’t sure how much good it would do if things started snowballing, but again, it was probably best to take things as they came. “Tell Wilbur I said hi.”

“Will do. And hey, just relax. Enjoy yourself! I’m told it feels good.”

With that, Tom waved goodbye and left Isabelle to wonder who the fuck told him it felt good. With a vague sigh, she opened the cooler and pulled out a glass of vacation juice. One of quite a few, she noted. Probably necessary – she was gonna need to turn off her inhibitions for a while. Like she’d said to Tom, she had never been much for tiki drinks. But, here and now, in a situation where she felt the need to get super fucked up super quickly, she could certainly see the appeal. If she didn’t know that there was alcohol in this, she probably would have assumed it was just some sort of smoothie. But this wasn’t a smoothie, it was vacation juice, and like every tiki drink there was a staggering amount of alcohol in it. But, also like every tiki drink, it didn’t taste like there was a staggering amount of alcohol in it. That was why they were so dangerous. You could down ten glasses and not even notice until you were so plastered you couldn’t stand up straight. Hell, she’d already started on her second without realizing it.

Isabelle leaned back in her chair, letting the tropical breeze wash over her. It was moist and warm and smelled faintly of the ocean. Maybe a bit too warm, though that might have been the alcohol talking. Still, it was enough that she felt it justified to undo the top button of her pinkish tee shirt and give herself a bit of air. And then another, and after a moment of thought she decided that fuck it her clothing probably wasn’t going to stay intact for very long once she started getting bigger and undid the remaining two. She didn’t quite go so far as to remove it completely. Part of the fun (she assumed) was the prospect of outgrowing her clothing, and being nude defeated the purpose of that. Beneath her shirt she was wearing a modest blue bikini top, which didn’t match at all with her cream coloured skirt but did match the blue bikini bottom she was wearing as panties. Normally this particular outfit came with simple brown shoes, but she’d elected to go barefoot, as while the shirt and skirt and swimwear all came directly from Tom and thus would be easy to replace, the shoes were Labelle originals. Very nice, very comfortable, and very expensive.

“Looks like someone’s finally starting to enjoy herself.”

“Don’t make fun of me, Tom,” Isabelle said nonchalantly, finishing her second- wait, no, third glass of vacation juice. When the fuck did that happen? Oh, well, time for a fourth. “So when are we getting started?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Isabelle idly glanced into the cooler and counted the remaining glasses of vacation juice. There were... quite a few. It really was packed full of the stuff. “Well,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I want to finish off my vacation juice. But I suppose if we started now I could probably drink them more quickly, being larger and all.” Also, Tom wasn’t... the best with computers. He wasn’t completely technologically illiterate – he could use a smartphone to make calls and browse the internet. But anything more complicated than that was typically beyond him. So Isabelle probably had a few minutes between telling Tom to start things up and things actually starting up.

“That’s the spirit. Just give me a moment to... figure out... how this works... Okay. I think that’s it. Do you feel any different?”

“No.”

“You sure? It should have started. I think.”

“Tom, maybe you should get Timmy and Tommy to help you.” In contrast to their mentor, the twins were good with technology – they’d grown up during the rise of the internet so of course they were. They’d even helped Tom set up a god damn cryptocurrency a few months back, for crying out loud. If anyone could get this running, it would be them.

“Absolutely not! This is an adults only affair and-”

“Tom they’ve been working for you for almost twenty years I absolutely refuse to believe they’re underage.”

There was silence for a moment. “Fine. But if they get corrupted, I’m blaming you.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes, and then returned to her fifth vacation juice while she waited for Tom to get the twins. It took him until she’d finished her sixth to actually return with them.

“He’d opened a text file and typed ‘start big’ into it,” Timmy said.

“Please don’t make fun of him, he’s trying his best,” Tommy interjected.

“Can you get it running?” Isabelle said, unsuccessfully stifling a giggle.

“Yeah, the donation stuff is already going. We just need to start the stream itself.”

“You ready?”

“I’ve got seven glasses of vacation juice in me, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay good because the stream’s started and people have already started donating.”

“You should be hitting your first milestone right about now.”

Isabelle picked up the eighth glass of vacation juice – which seemed to be the last. Which was probably for the best, she mused to herself, considering that honestly even this many would probably do serious damage to her liver were it not about to get much, much bigger. But on the other paw, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. Which, really, probably didn’t say great things about herself, but whatever she worked hard there was nothing wrong with occasionally treating herself to excessive amounts of alcohol.

Well, there was nothing she could do one way or the other to change the fact that this was the final glass of vacation juice. With a shrug, she downed the whole thing probably a bit too quickly before carefully putting it back in the cooler. With that done, there was nothing left to do but wait for things to get going. And, in the meantime, now that she was done drinking she could finally feel the effects of the alcohol starting to hit. Her head felt slightly foggy and soft, like it was insulated from the world by a thick layer of plush. A familiar warmth blossomed in her chest, flowing out into the rest of her body and in the process washing away the last of her inhibitions.

Why had she been so anxious about this, again? It wasn’t like it was permanent, and anyway it had been her idea in the first place. She was the one who had suggested it, she clearly wanted this. And why wouldn’t she? Isabelle had always been a petite person, even by typical villager standards. Five feet even, with moderate curves. Which, don’t get her wrong, she was perfectly content with! But, well, her mind wandered back to googling herself. To seeing that fanart of her built like a porn star sex goddess. A statuesque six feet tall with fat d-cup tits. And, while Sober Isabelle hadn’t been able to put her finger on what those images made her feel, Drunk Isabelle absolutely could.

And how they made her feel was that six feet tall with d-cups wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted to be huge. Massively, unimaginably huge, even if only for a little bit.

That drunken warmth continued to blossom, filling her from head to toe with the familiar giddiness – Isabelle had always been a happy drunk – until it ran out of room, but that didn’t stop it from continuing to flow into her. She suddenly felt full and hot and tight all over. And speaking of tight, her clothing had started to dig into her body in ways it decidedly hadn’t before. The folding beach chair creaked and groaned slightly as the weight it was holding started to increase. “Mnnnn,” Isabelle groaned, her hips rocking back and forth reflexively and her hands gripping the armrests tightly.

Tom was wrong. It didn’t feel good.

It felt fantastic.

“A-ahn~” Isabelle moaned, mouth hanging open as she climaxed just from the sensation of growing. Thin strands of drool rolled their way down her chin, one on either side of her mouth, and her muscles locked up, only allowing enough movement for her to twitch slightly in time with the ebb and flow of her orgasm.

And this was only the fucking beginning.

“Mnnn, how big am I?” She said after coming down from her orgasmic high and taking just a moment to make sure she wasn’t still growing.

“Seven feet!” Timmy replied perkily – although, there wasn’t really much call to mention his tone of voice. The twins were kind of always perky. In combination with just being extremely short and boyish, it was no wonder people tended to think they were much younger than they were.

“And we’ve also got a special surprise for you!”

“Oh?” Normally, Isabelle wasn’t a huge fan of surprises. But, well, her lowered inhibitions made her just a bit more inclined to go along with the flow. Really, she was surprised she still felt quite so drunk, considering how much bigger she’d apparently gotten. One would think that more bodymass would mean the alcohol would effect her less, but if anything she kinda felt a bit drunker.

“Yep! Check out your tits!”

“Tommy, language!” Tom snapped, his voice soft and muffled as a result of not being at the computer. Isabelle elected to ignore him. Tommy was an adult, he could say “tits” if he wanted. She was, frankly, much more interested in what the surprise was. Slowly, she did as Tommy suggested, removing her hands from the armrests and placing them on her modest breasts.

Though, really, they were only proportionally modest. Her growth spurt had resulted in them getting quite a bit physically bigger. They had more heft to them than normal, and filled out her bikini much more. The blue fabric dug tightly into soft, yellow-furred flesh. Probably a bit too much – it was mildly uncomfortable, now that she thought about it. And beyond it, they felt... odd. That tightness that had filled her body had mostly vanished once the growth had petered off, but it was still there in her chest. They felt full. And, looking down at them, they seemed firmer than usual. A bit rounder, and maybe a half cup-size bigger? Tentatively, she placed her hands on them to get a better judgment of their size by giving them a bit of a squeeze.

“Ahn!” She was rewarded with a spike of pleasure – not quite orgasmic, but oh man was it well beyond the typical result of giving her boobs a little squeeze – and some of that pressure was released. She removed her hands from her breasts and looked down. Her whole body was slightly damp with sweat (and, near her crotch, other fluids). But those twin blossoms of wetness on her bikini weren’t sweat. As she removed the stimulation, she felt that tightness slowly return, her tits slowly firming back up as they replenished the small amount of milk she’d unleashed.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, we’ve set it up so chat members can make little suggestions for extra changes and bits of specific growth.”

“That was the first one!”

Isabelle grinned. “I like it.”

“Good, because you just hit the second milestone!”

“Ten feet tall, by the way! And the suggestion is-”

“Mnnn, don’t,” Isabelle groaned, once again writhing in her beach chair. She could feel that heat, that tightness returning once again. “I, ah, I wanna fffffind out f-for myselfffffffff~”

Seven feet tall was already frankly massive. The beach chair had been very clearly built for someone around where Isabelle had started. Almost exactly, in fact. It was built almost more like a portable bed with armrests, bending exactly where her body bent naturally and with her feet and head almost exactly not extending beyond the blue and white striped fabric. Or at least that had been the case when she was five feet tall. At seven, the headrest completely failed at its intended function – the top of the chair barely reached her neck at all. Likewise, her feet and ankles and a good portion of her calves dangled loosely in the air.

And, as that heat blossomed and spread, that portion became bigger and bigger. “Mnnnnfuck,” she moaned as she grew. Her clothing felt even tighter, and the arms of the chair began to press firmly into her hips. Firmly enough that she found herself quite firmly wedged. Her hips attempted to buck reflexively, but that wasn’t possible because she was too big to fit in her chair but not big enough to have outgrown it. She had grown enough, at least, for her feet to comfortably reach the ground. Moving carefully, she stood up, taking the chair with her.

“Fuck,” she muttered – this time less out of arousal and more out of mild frustration – it was really fuckin’ wedged in there. And, considering her sheer raw size and weight, it was surprisingly intact. Much more durable than it initially appeared. Isabelle wrapped her hands around the armrests and pulled as hard as she could to no avail. With a grunt, she attempted to instead push it off of her, with similar results. “Well, darn,” she grumbled. “That’s inconvenient.”

“Give it a second.”

“It’ll take care of itself.”

Isabelle wasn’t entirely sure what the twins meant at first. In retrospect it was fairly obvious, but in her defence she was still extremely not sober. As with the last growth spurt, rather than diminishing as a result of increased body mass, she almost seemed to have gotten drunker. So it wasn’t too unreasonable that she briefly forgot about the suggestions. It took a while for it to click in her head that the stretchy, rubbery sounds of growth were still going even though she’d stopped getting taller. Noticeably longer than it probably would have were she sober, but whatever. Eventually she noticed the way the chair was creaking and groaning more than it had been. The way her thighs had gotten slightly thicker, her hips slightly wider. The way that her bikini bottom was slowly being consumed by her growing ass.

Granted, that happened roughly when her ass got so big that the chair’s arms flat-out snapped off, but again; it wasn’t unreasonable for her to be a bit out of it. Once she was emancipated, she immediately stood up straight – only to immediately lose her balance and fall backwards onto her much more well-cushioned rear with a heavy thud. Slowly, she attempted to pull herself to her feet, and failed miserably. “Okay I think maybe standing’s out of the question for a bit.”

“It’s supposed to be set up to make you adjust to changes in your centre of gravity more easily,” Timmy said.

“I don’t think it’s that so much as it’s all that vacation juice I drank,” Isabelle replied. Well, whatever. She didn’t need to be standing right now for any particular reason. And lying down was easier, so she did that. Though, after a moment’s thought, she elected to roll over from lying on her back to her stomach so that she could get at her brand new ass. Just give it a squeeze and get a feel for how big it was. And oh man was it big. Her hips and thighs had thickened slightly out of necessity, just to be able to support it. But only slightly, leaving it disproportionately large on her otherwise fairly slender frame. Each cheek was absolutely bigger than her tits, probably on par with her head. She bit her lips slightly as she felt her hands sink into the soft expanses of yellow-furred flesh. God, just the fact that it was big and soft enough for that to be possible was enough to send spikes of arousal down her spine.

It was also big enough that, factoring in being ten feet tall, her skirt had been pushed up to her waist. Her bikini bottom, meanwhile, had been completely and utterly consumed by her rear, rendered basically a g-string by its sheer volume. Where it wasn’t buried in assflesh, it dug deep into Isabelle’s flesh, and already she could feel some small parts of the fabric beginning to give way. There was absolutely no way it was going to survive for much longer. Her shirt, similarly, was on the verge of tearing into pieces. Certainly there was absolutely no way she was going to be able to button it up again. Her torso was just too much bigger, even without her breasts getting larger. And even if she somehow did manage to stretch it over her chest, it would barely have reached her armpits. Speaking of breasts, her bikini top was really more of a microbikini, just enough to cover her nipples, and thoroughly soaked through with milk.

And this was just the second milestone.

Make that the third milestone. By this point, the sensation of growth was getting to be almost familiar. A warmth, a tingling, a fullness. Comfortable, like being wrapped in a big, warm blanket on a cold winter day except sexy. “Mnnnn yeah that’s nice,” she muttered, rolling back over onto her back – it was nice to be able to feel her butt, but right now she had more urgent things to tend to that were more easily reached when she was lying face-up. One hand moved to rub at her puppy pussy through what was left of her bikini, while the other gave one of her tits a squeeze. Her efforts were rewarded with a squirt of milk and a conspicuous increase in tightness, localized in her chest.

“Next milestone is fifteen feet!”

“Looks like you’ve already figured out what the suggestion is.”

“Gotta keep things even!”

Isabelle wasn’t entirely sure she agreed with that last point, but she definitely wasn’t going to object to getting bigger milkers. She had never exactly been the most well endowed person on that particular front. On any front, really, but her butt had, at least, rectified that. And now her tits were following suit and it felt so fucking goooood. She removed her hand from down south – it wasn’t like she needed to touch herself to get off at this point – and brought it up to feel the other boob swelling disproportionate from the rest of her growth.

As a result, her bikini top was the first bit of clothing to go. It snapped at the shoulders and in the middle, and Isabelle quickly discarded the leftover fabric before returning to milking herself. The bottom followed suit quickly after that, similarly tearing at the sides where the structural integrity had already begun to compromise. Her shirt was next, but it held on a bit longer because there was a bit more that had to fail before it tore completely. There was a snapping, ripping noise as the stitches holding the sleeves tore at the armpits. That tear spread until the sleeves were entirely detached, and also spread down the sides of the shirt and the bottoms of the sleeves until the whole thing came apart surprisingly neatly into four separate pieces. Isabelle elected, after a very brief moment of thought, not to bother removing the scraps for now, they’d prolly fall off on their own, and she didn’t want to remove her hands from her boobs until they were done getting bigger.

Her skirt, surprisingly, remained intact for now. Stretched just below the breaking point, but fighting admirably not to tear. Which was especially impressive considering that, in spite of being proportionally thinner than her chest and ass, her waist was still bigger around than her entire body had been at its thickest point before she’d started growing. It was actually somewhat frustrating – it was squeezing tightly around her abdomen, restricting bloodflow and digging in uncomfortably. She almost, almost reached down and tore it off herself. But Isabelle had a stubborn streak, and one that got a lot streakier when she was drunk. And right now that stubborn streak was determined to outgrow her clothing.

It took her a moment to realize that she had stopped growing. Her boobs were, of course, the star of the show. Easily on par with her ass, maybe slightly bigger. Which made sense, really – her ass didn’t have any extra size added by the whole milk production thing. It was a rough estimate, considering she didn’t exactly have the time to experiment, but given how full she felt and the rough amount of production she’d exhibited before her boobs got bigged, she figured that they’d probably range from around head sized at the smallest to head and a half at the biggest? Though, again, she hadn’t tested that, and she got the feeling that probably wasn’t going to stay the case for very much longer – unless it turned out that the viewers were only allowed to suggest a particular part get bigger once, which would be super boring.

And, of course, on top of all of that, she was fifteen feet tall. Fifteen feet! There were entire buildings in New Leaf that were smaller than she was right now. Or at least, shorter than she was. In terms of raw volume of building, the average building probably outdid her. But whatever, that was semantics. The point was that she was currently as tall as three of her before she’d started growing, and this was only the beginning. The next milestone was likely to hit any second now and the only people who knew how big she was going to get from it were Timmy and Tommy.

“We’ve hit the next milestone!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Isabelle mused.

“No suggestion this time, it looks like they just want to see you grow.”

“Mnn, I’m not gonna complain~” Isabelle said as the heat and tightness returned. It was, she supposed, a little disappointing that she was only going to get bigger this time. But on the other hand, the whole point of this was for her to get bigger, wasn’t it? That was why she’d suggested the concept in the first place, even if she’d not quite been consciously aware of that fact. She’d seen people drawing her taller and bustier than she was in real life and wanted to feel what it was like to be that big – or bigger. And, well, she’d more than shattered the six foot tall milestone with her first growth, and her boobs were well beyond D cups. So she didn’t particularly mind if her boobs didn’t get bigger than the frankly already kind of ridiculous head-sized behemoths they’d become. Though, now that she thought of it, the idea of her boobs becoming bigger than her current head-sized behemoths was undeniably appealing. Same with her ass. And that wasn’t even factoring in the possibility of other suggestions she’d not considered. This wasn’t really something she’d ever put a lot of thought into, but there were plenty of parts of her body that she could see getting bigger in a sexy way.

That all could wait until someone made a suggestion, though. She’d not expected that particular aspect to be a part of the appeal, but there was something deeply thrilling about it all being out of her hands. She was big and powerful, yes. And getting bigger and more powerful with every milestone. But she was also paradoxically completely powerless. Everything that happened to her was entirely at the whim of a group of strangers on the internet who she could easily wipe off the face of the earth with increasingly little effort with every milestone they gave her.

Isabelle’s digression was interrupted by a loud snap as her skirt finally gave way to her waist. She had, unfortunately, been too distracted by thinking about growing to actually enjoy the growing and now it looked like she was just about done. Not that she’d not done so subconsciously, considering how quick and shallow her breathing was, the way she was writhing on the ground, hips bucking without any conscious input. Even now she was having a hard time focusing. Her brain felt like it was submerged in molasses, swimming in a thick soup of sludge that slowed everything to a crawl. Which wasn’t surprising, given the trend of feeling drunker every time she grew.

A lazy grin spread across her face as she slowly attempted to stand up. Very slowly – the last time she’d tried this she’d been practically sober and had failed miserably. It took a while, and her gait was unsteady and wobbly even once she stood up fully. Really, she was only technically standing at all, about to fall right back on her drunk ass at any second. The only reason she’d bothered was to see if she could maybe get a point of comparison for how big she was.

The sparse trees on the island didn’t even reach her crotch, which was good enough for her. “How big ‘m I?”

“Twenty five feet!”

“Nice.” That absolutely made her officially taller than every building in New Leaf. Which, granted, wasn’t saying much – New Leaf wasn’t the biggest town in the world, and mostly the buildings didn’t go over two storeys. But still, even in terms of bigger towns she would have trouble fitting in the average street.

Satisfied with having an actual concrete number, Isabelle allowed herself to collapse right back down onto her giant fucking ass, leaving a pair of big ol’ craters in the dirt.

“Annnnd next milestone already!” That was fast, Isabelle thought to herself. Not that she minded – the faster the milestones came, the bigger she got. If anything, she almost wanted them to come faster. Every time she finished a growth spurt, there was always a pause before the next one came. She stopped growing, even if it was only for a few seconds. And sure, maybe that wasn’t something that was entirely avoidable. Some quirk of whatever it was that was facilitating all of this that prevented it from starting on the next milestone until the previous one was done, no matter how fast people donated. But that didn’t change the intense desire to just start getting bigger and never, ever stop. Each milestone flowing into the next smoothly, without any break.

“Biggerrrrrrrr,” she groaned, voice low and rumbling, followed by a drunken hiccup. And bigger she got. That tightness returned with a vengeance, far more intense than it had been any of the previous times. Which made sense, because each milestone had been more than the last one. The first milestone had made her two feet taller, while the most recent one had jumped her up ten feet. And she could feel that this latest milestone was going to be significantly more than ten feet and it felt so fucking good.

She could feel her body sliding against the ground beneath her as it surged bigger and bigger, feel the sand underneath her feet where it hadn’t been before – and then shortly after that, she could feel her feet getting wet. That comfortably contoured crater her doggy derrière had created with her earlier colossal sit was very quickly rendered no longer comfortably contoured at all. That was an easy fix, of course. She grinned eagerly as she lifted her hips up and then sent them crashing down with a heavy thud. And then again, and again, over and over, each impact heavier and louder and biggerrrrrrr.

Isabelle’s breathing came faster and shallower as, once again, she could feel a mounting orgasm. Her hands moved on reflex to expedite and encourage that process, darting down to her crotch and wrapping around the big, red, bone.

“Ah. Think I’ve figured out what the suggestion was this time.”

It was difficult to get an exact estimate of just how big her cock was, given she wasn’t even sure exactly how tall she was at the moment. And even disregarding that, she was absolutely not in the headspace to do any of the mental math and size estimations required to figure out how big it was relative to her. Without resorting to exact numbers, though, she could safely say that it was probably big enough to give herself a boobjob and a blowjob at the same time without too much discomfort. It had a sort of pointed tip, widening slightly to a relatively uniform meaty sausage shape until it got to the base at which point it swelled outward into a massive fucking knot.

Isabelle’s experience with knots was, admittedly, very limited – she didn’t get laid all that often. But still, she knew enough to know that they were typically not the size of your god damn head. Frankly it was almost unreasonably large, even in proportion to how unreasonably large everything else about her cock was. Big and fat and leaky and sensitive. Especially the knot, which her hands had already instinctively started giving most of the focus to. Squeezing and rubbing and groping at the firm surface until-

“F-fuuuuuck!” Isabelle cried as she came. Copiously and vigorously, neither of which were surprising adverbs given the situation. Her hips resumed their pounding of the earth beneath her, though with less conscious input on Isabelle’s part – that was also not particularly surprising. Thick gouts shot into the air and then rained down on the beach, island, and her own colossal body alike. Honestly, she was surprised that she was as okay with this development as she was. Were she sober, she would probably be completely mortified. As it was, her inhibitions were basically reduced to nothing so she was mostly just enjoying how good this all felt.

And this was still practically the beginning.

“How big ‘m I?” she said, her words significantly slurred.

“Fifty feet!”

“Nice.” At this point she was probably getting close to outright outsizing the island this was all taking place on. Which probably should have been more worrying than it was, but again; she was very drunk right now and so it was difficult to care. “‘m gonna jerk off a bit, lemme know when I hit the next thingie.”

“You already have!”

“Oh.” If there was any downside to how fast these milestones were coming, it was the fact that she didn’t really get to savour a size before growing to the next size. Which, like, oh no what a tragedy she was going to get bigger. Darn.

“We’re just about halfway done with the milestones, by the way,” one of the twins interjected – Isabelle was a bit too drunk to tell which one, which she felt a little bad about. She’d known them for almost a full decade, and in that time she’d gotten pretty good at telling them apart. But they were still identical twins, and they’d honestly always kinda leaned into that for as long as she’d known them. And so, through the haze of alcohol, it was almost impossible for her to pick up on the subtle differences in mannerisms that distinguished Timmy from Tommy. And she felt a bit guilty about that fact.

Still, she was drunk, so she only felt guilty enough that it took her a few extra seconds to pick up on the fact that she was almost halfway through the growth already. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry.”

“We’ve got something in mind for after the last milestone.”

“And the last milestone is pretty big-”

“Without actually spoiling how big, of course!”

“Of course! But the point is you’ve still got a ways to go before you’re done growing.”

“And you’re going to be really big before you do!”

“Okay, well, there’s that worry quashed!” she said, eagerly lying back and letting the next milestone wash over her. This was the sixth she’d hit, and by this point it was getting almost routine. That same heat bubbled up inside of her, spreading through her body and then beyond her body. And, of course, her body moved to keep up. She could feel herself spreading across more and more of the island, displacing copious amounts of sand and dirt in the process. Her feet, already being lapped at by the tide, quickly became outright submerged – followed shortly by her ankles and then her calves, until she was up to her knees in saltwater.

Of course, everything else about her also grew. She was just mostly focused on her legs because of the sensation of cold seawater against her fur. And beyond that, there was something else. Not quite the same sensation as the growth, but similar. She could feel her bones shifting and changing – it almost hurt, and honestly were she more sober it probably would have hurt. There were sounds, visceral creaking and grinding. Her mind raced in an attempt to figure out what someone could possibly have suggested that resulted in this. Which probably wasn’t helped by the fact that, once again, getting bigger had also resulted in her getting drunker. Eventually, she decided that the only way she was going to resolve this would be to actually pull her legs out of the ocean and fucking look at them.

Or to ask Timmy and Tommy, but by the time that particular course of action occurred to her she’d already gotten mostly started on plan A and besides she was gonna want to get herself out of the ocean at some point anyway.

Isabelle had, as she’d gone over several times in her mind, always been somewhat petite in most ways. She wasn’t busty, wasn’t curvy, wasn’t tall, and she didn’t even have a particularly large shoe size. Most of that had, of course, since changed. Her bust was ample, her ass was fat, and she was at least bigger than fifty feet at this point. And... well, she wasn’t quite sure if her feet currently counted as bigger, beyond proportionally. It was more like they weren’t really even feet anymore so much as paws. Big, chunky, canine paws. The shape was too different for her to be entirely certain if they were bigger, but given recent trends, Isabelle could guess.

“A hundred feet!”

“Speaking of which, the suggestion was paws.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Isabelle replied, not entirely sure how she felt about that one. She’d already considered the possibility of things growing that she’d not considered growing. And, well, her feet were definitely on that list. It was definitely not something she’d have chosen left to her own devices, but part of the appeal of this whole thing was that she didn’t get to choose.

And, well, she couldn’t deny that it felt good. Everything about this felt good. That made sense when it came to her boobs getting bigger or growing a penis. But even her ass getting bigger or her feet becoming paws or even just getting taller felt practically orgasmic. It also probably helped that her new paws covered a very significant portion of the island at this point. She was a hundred feet tall! And this was barely halfway through the milestones! Especially factoring in that each progressive one got more than the last, she simply couldn’t fathom how big she was going to get, considering that as of now if she were to lie down on Main Street back in New Leaf she’d probably take up the entire fucking thing.

And she could already feel the next growth kicking in.

The ground rumbled beneath her ass as it grew. Everything else also grew, but right now it was her ass that was on the ground and so it was her ass that was making it shake beneath her as it took up more and more of the island. Practically the entire god damn beach was under her butt, and she could feel herself mowing over tree after tree after motherfucking tree. God, at this point it had to be as big across as she had been tall just a few minutes ago and it was only getting bigger and god it felt so fucking good. She’d been neglecting her cock since growing it, but now that she wasn’t distracted by seawater, she could feel it twitching and throbbing and just begging for attention. She reached down and gently rubbed it. She was careful to ensure that she didn’t give too much attention to the knot – it felt the best, to be sure, but she’d cum a lot today and wanted to take things just a little bit slower for a bit. Just a bit. Made it feel all the better when she decided to go fast again.

As a result, she could feel her growth slowing down before she even got close to climaxing this time. “No suggestion?”

“Nope!”

“You’re five hundred feet tall, by the way!”

“Mmm, nice,” Isabelle muttered, continuing to languidly stroke. At this point she honestly didn’t care too much about exactly how big she was, or at least not in terms of numbers. She was much more interested in getting bigger than in knowing exactly how big she was. Although that wasn’t to say she didn’t appreciate the status updates she was being given. The problem was that after fifty feet or so, the numbers stopped really meaning anything. She’d spent almost her entire life in relatively small towns, and had only seen skyscrapers on TV and in movies. She didn’t think she’d ever actually directly encountered anything that was fifty feet tall in her entire life, much less five hundred. And they were only barely halfway done.

And actually, given the way that the milestones seemed to be escalating, she was probably nowhere near half as big as she was going to get. If she stopped growing at a thousand feet she would be extremely surprised and just a bit disappointed.

Of course, the audience wasn’t going to wait for her to finish her internal monologue. They probably weren’t even aware of her internal monologue, but even if they were they probably didn’t give a fuck. The whole point of this, after all, was to give them a show as she got bigger. And it wouldn’t be a very good show if she didn’t get bigger. So of course they were gonna throw money at making her get bigger already god dammit.

Not that Isabelle was gonna complain. She bit her lip eagerly as that heat once again blossomed in the pit of her stomach. “Yesssssss,” she hissed. “Make me biggerrrrrrr~” She’d not really needed to say it – the audience would probably be more than happy to oblige were she not already growing. At this point Isabelle was almost certain that there was some sort of cooldown between milestones. She had to finish with one before she could hit another. Maybe they were even outright prevented from donating any more until she’d finished growing? She had mixed feelings about that, if she was honest. On the one hand, she wanted more, but on the other hand what she already had was frankly almost overwhelming as it was.

But whatever it wasn’t like she could influence how things were handled at this point. The best she could do would be to specify things that she’d like for them to suggest out loud, which she wasn’t going to do because that would be cheating. And so she might as well just enjoy herself as much as possible while things happened. She picked up the pace of her stroking, letting the sensations of growth wash over her. Actually really focusing on the sensation this time, lest she fucking not notice until it actually happened. Again. That was, she supposed, one big downside to doing this while hammered – concentrating was fucking difficult, especially factoring in how horny she was. Hell, even literally right now she was getting distracted from the growth by thinking about how she kept getting distracted by the growth. And, of course, her oversensitive knot and overfull balls certainly weren’t helping. But on the other hand she was pretty sure that Sober Isabelle wouldn’t be enjoying herself nearly as much. So, you know, it was a bit of a wash. Maybe next time have less vacation juice or something.

If she could even bring herself to do a next time. Even through the fog of alcohol, Isabelle could definitely tell that once she sobered up she was going to be absolutely fucking mortified and honestly couldn’t really blame herself for that because an indeterminate number of complete strangers and also quite possibly not complete strangers were currently watching her be extremely lewd. God, that was a horrifying thought. What if someone she fucking knew was watching? Drunk Isabelle didn’t much care, but that was mostly because Drunk Isabelle had decided that inhibitions were for fucking losers.

That was about as far as that train of thought got before she caught herself wandering off topic again. “Mnf, not this time,” she muttered to herself, redoubling her masturbation efforts. “‘m gonna enjoy this if it kills me.” She closed her eyes and focused as hard as she could on the growth. The feelings of tightness and fullness getting tighter and fuller, the increasing weight of her own body against itself, the heat, the friction of the ground as her body slid across it. The feeling of milk flowing from her chest and precum sliding down her shaft. Every foot, every inch, every god damn centimetre washed over her and it felt so fucking good. “Mnffffff~” Her breath came fast and shallow and her hips bucked uncontrollably. Once again, she felt her paws get wet and she didn’t care. She felt her head get wet and she didn’t fucking care. She just kept right on jerking off until finally she found herself tumbling headlong over the edge, erupting forth with gout after gout of thick doggy cum.

Sadly, Isabelle’s orgasm couldn’t possibly last forever. Eventually, she found herself coming down. She didn’t exactly have a clock on hand, so she had no idea exactly how long she’d cum for. But she’d enjoyed every god damn second of it without letting her mind drift off topic again, and that was the important thing. Though, on the other hand, technically she’d not really been able to enjoy the last few hundred feet of growth because she’d been busy cumming, but fucking whatever, it was good enough. Her next goal, then, was to keep up that level of focus for the next growth spurt, and the one after that, ad nauseum until she was done with growth spurts. Which was, frankly, a bit of a tall order. Once again, getting bigger had also equated to getting drunker. And that, in turn, meant that focusing was only going to get harder and harder as she got bigger and bigger.

And speaking of getting harder, boy howdy was she still ragingly erect. She had cum plastered all over her face and chest, to say nothing of the fact that the clear blue tropical ocean looked just a little less clear and a little more off-white than it had been. God, how much had she even cum? Considering she was at least bigger than five hundred feet, there was no way that even gallons would be an accurate measurement. Beyond what there were convenient units of measurement for and into weird obscure shit like megalitres. And yet, in spite of all of that, she was still practically on the edge of cumming all the fuck over again.

“How big?” she managed to grunt out, just barely holding on to a semblance of coherency. Who fucking knew if she’d even be capable of asking how big she’d gotten with the next milestone.

“A thousand feet!”

“Good. More.”

“Coming right up, ma’am!”

“And you’ve got a suggestion, too!”

“Good. More.” Honestly, Isabelle was probably capable of at least more than two words of response, even if anything polysyllabic was probably beyond her. She just didn’t care to say more than what was absolutely essential. Most of her focus was on how good it felt to rub her shaft, and on the slowly building sensation of the oncoming milestone. Well, okay, she did pause very briefly when she realized that oh yes right her head and feet were in the water, she should probably sit up before she got fully submerged. She might have been too drunk to bother with modesty, but she wasn’t yet drunk enough where she was going to risk drowning herself.

Of course, she was drunk enough that actually getting from “lying” to “sitting” was easier said than done. Somehow, she could to masturbate just fine, but when she attempted to sit up her every muscle felt like jello. Mildly annoying, but the worst case scenario was that she’d get a little bit wet – if there was really any danger of her drowning they’d likely have picked a bigger deserted island. Or, you know, somewhere inland, like the Sahara or Death Valley or something else big and empty and not surrounded by water on all sides in such a way that she was inevitably not going to fit even if she did stand up. Still, even if she was intellectually confident enough that she probably wasn’t in any real danger, there was still a non-zero chance of something bad happening. She didn’t want to risk her head being fully submerged while she was so drunk that transitioning from lying to not lying was as difficult as it was. You know, just in case. And so, with a herculean effort on her part, Isabelle sloooooowly pulled herself upright. She wasn’t gonna be standing any time soon, that much was certain, but now that she had gotten there, she was confident she could at least sit.

And oh man did she sit. In the time that she’d been distracted by her brief ordeal, much of the milestone had already happened. A little bit disappointing, but something of a necessity. Ideally, she’d be able to enjoy every inch, but in this particular case she figured that not running the risk of drowning was probably a little worth it. For now. Besides, the milestone wasn’t done. Hell, given how she felt, it had probably barely even gotten started. She felt heavy and full, much more than any previous milestone. And getting heavier and fuller even as she felt hundreds of feet pile on at a time. God, the fact that more than twenty times her starting height at a time was slow growth was fucking mind-boggling. And they were only barely past halfway through the milestones apparently.

Isabelle closed her eyes and let the sensation of size wash over her. Immersed herself in the growth. And, sure enough, just like pretty much every other time there was a suggestion, there was something else beneath it all. Something more, something bigger. Her breathing came quickly and shallowly in sharp, jerky gasps. And she could feel her heartbeat getting heavier, feel every individual fucking blood cell flowing through her veins. In contrast to most of the other milestones, which she had struggled to focus on through the haze of alcohol, this time she felt almost hyper-aware of her body. Almost as though she’d sobered up a bit?

Without any conscious input, her muscles tensed up, and then her whole body convulsed as they surged bigger. And then again and again and again. She could immediately feel the difference. Even the slightest movement felt completely effortless. There wasn’t anything nearby she could try lifting, but she got the impression that very little could really challenge her. Her whole body felt noticeably lighter. And she was ripped. Fuck, she was beyond ripped. Isabelle had never been one for working out. She kept active, usually in the form of the occasional walk around town when she had the time (which was rarely). But oh man, if someone who looked like she did now tried to claim as such she wouldn’t fucking believe them. She looked like she lived in the gym 24/7, and even then was probably helped along by some performance enhancers.

Idly, she flexed an arm, and produced a bicep that was intimidatingly large. She didn’t currently know how big she was, so she couldn’t really put into words exactly how massive it was. But she wouldn’t be entirely surprised, given how much of the island she was currently taking up (all of it) if it turned out to be the size of a small mountain or maybe even bigger. “I, uh. I think I know what the suggestion was.”

“You’re five thousand feet, by the way!”

“For the record, your butt is currently wider than you were tall at the last milestone!”

Once again, Isabelle found her breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t sure how she kept getting caught off guard by her size. It wasn’t like this was the first time an individual bodypart managed to outsize her entire body at an earlier milestone. Hell, her hands were probably big enough to hold all of Main Street back in New Leaf. But, well. There was something about hearing specifically that her ass was wider than she was tall before the last growth still managed to surprise her even though it shouldn’t.

Somewhat more tangible was the fact that currently her butt took up the entire island. More than the entire island, if she was technical – it extended past the part that was above water and well into the shallows of the coastline. Her legs outright extended into the open ocean as the depth quickly escalated, leaving her thighs mostly above water and her calves and feet completely submerged (for now, at least.)

Of course, that only really managed to hold her attention for a moment, before her shaft re-asserted its presence. While she didn’t really regret her decision to not stay lying down, it did result in the unforeseen complication that it was currently wedged between her boobs. “Mnf,” she grunted, trying really hard not to think about it and failing miserably.

Although, on further thought, why the fuck was she trying not to think about it? There was absolutely no reason not to just titfuck herself right here and now beyond maybe the possibility that the next suggestion (if there even was a next suggestion) would maybe impact things somewhat. If someone suggested making her boobs bigger, she’d much rather titfuck herself with said bigger boobs. Even though frankly her boobs were already pretty fucking huge. Even just looking at things proportionally, they were still bigger than her head. In terms of actual size, they were colossal. She was, after all, five thousand feet tall, and so her head was already pretty fucking big. In spite of having sobered up just a little bit, any kind of unit conversion was still well beyond her, but she had to be pushing a mile by now.

“Just under a mile by a few hundred feet!” one of the twins helpfully interjected.

“Or just about a kilometre and a half, if you want to use metric.”

“‘m okay with not using metric for now.” There were frankly already too many numbers for Isabelle to keep track of without bringing metric onto the table.

“Okay!”

“I think you’ll appreciate knowing that you currently weigh about fifty million tons, though. About three point four million of which is boob.”

“Mnf. You’re right about that.”

“And in theory you should be able to lift about two point five billion tons before you’d start having any problems.”

“Though obviously there’s not really much that’s even close to that weight except for you.”

Isabelle let out a low groan and a few gouts of precum. She’d never really considered the possibility of getting off just from hearing some numbers but boy howdy was that a very real possibility right now. Really the only thing that kept her from that point was the fact that they were out of numbers to give her.

That, and the fact that she could feel the next milestone bubbling up in the pit of her stomach. All of those numbers really only applied before she got any bigger, and it wasn’t like there had been any real time in between any of the previous milestones. Hell, she was almost surprised it had taken this long for another to hit. Once again, she found her breath coming faster and her hips thrusting of their own volition. Which meant that she ended up titfucking herself anyway – might as well just embrace it. She reached up and squeezed them around her cock, pumping them up and down around it against the grain of her thrusting and oh god did it feel so fucking good. She was absolutely going to have to figure out a way to do this on demand. Or, like, at least the cock and tits and maybe the ass, too, if she was feeling spicy.

“Next milestone!” one of the twins said, confirming her suspicions. She probably didn’t really need them confirmed, but it was at least nice to know for sure before the growth actually started. “No suggestion this time, just the growth.” That might have been the other twin, or it might have been the same twin. Once again, she was having a hard time keeping track of which was which. Maybe she hadn’t sobered up quite as much as she thought she had. Whatever, she had higher priorities. Like, for instance, that low rumbling noise as her body began to grow again.

Once again, Isabelle focused as hard as she could on the sensations of growth. Which was, admittedly, made kinda difficult by the still-ongoing auto-titfuck. That particular thing was taking an awful lot of her focus. But god dammit she was determined. She’d already ended up missing yet another growth spurt because she’d gotten distracted. She wasn’t going to let this one pass her by too. No matter how good it felt. The way her thick muscular thighs had to spread apart to make room for her fat, full balls as they swelled fatter and fuller with the coming load. The way her oversensitive knot rubbed against her abs, the rougher surface practically agonizing, and getting moreso as her knot swelled up bigger and more sensitive as her climax approached. The sensation of hot cockflesh against soft boob, the way her shaft throbbed and thrust and the way her boobs leaked from the pressure of shaft and hand alike. The way her breath came faster, the mounting tightness in her chest and loins, and the way getting bigger made everything feel better, more sensitive, the way the wind rushed against her growing body and especially against her shaft until she just couldn’t take it anymore and erupted.

Though perhaps a hurricane would have been a more apt analogy than a volcano. Certainly the way her hips collided with the ground was akin enough to seismic activity. Literally earth-shattering. The island was... well, there was almost certainly nothing left of it anymore. Flattened beneath her gigantic ass as it slammed against the ground, over and over, with enough force to create fucking tsunamis. And speaking of tsunamis, her legs thrashed and convulsed  and oh boy did that result in some fucking tsunamis.

And, of course, countless billions of gallons of cum went rocketing into the sky. Okay, yes, maybe that was an overstatement on her part. But she honestly didn’t know for sure. She probably couldn’t tell you how productive she would be with the same proportions but a normal height. At this point her output might as well be infinite, especially considering she’d cum an awful lot today and there were no signs she was going to stop any time soon. Once this current orgasm finally slowed down (roughly in time with her growth spurt, damn) she found herself still extremely erect.

Although, now that she’d come down from the buildup to cumming again, she noticed that she’d decidedly run out of land on which to park herself. Beyond just taking up the entire island, beyond even taking up the island and also the shallows with her legs dangling into the ocean proper, now she was just plain out of island entirely. It felt kind of like she was sitting on a dome-shaped stool that was both far too tall and far too narrow for her to be sitting on it. It would probably be more comfortable for her to risk venturing out in the ocean proper. She wasn’t entirely sure if she could reach the ocean floor standing up, but frankly she was willing to run the risk of having to swim for like five seconds tops before she grew again.

Of course, that meant that for those five seconds tops she had to tread water while still extremely drunk. Mostly she had to rely on natural buoyancy – which, thankfully, wasn’t exactly in short supply considering the size of her tits and ass. “We probably could have put a bit more thought into this,” she said as she floated idly.

“You could have stayed on the island for at least one more milestone.”

“It was riding up my ass something fierce.”

“Fair enough. You’re ten thousand feet tall, by the way. Just under two miles.”

“Mnf.” Did Isabelle mention that she was still rock hard? Because she was. And hearing that particular number was enough to make the ocean in front of her bubble just a little as a result of the gout of precum.

“Annnnnd it looks like you’ve already hit another milestone. Suggestion, too, this time!”

Isabelle didn’t bother trying to respond this time. What would she even say that she hadn’t already said, anyway? Better to just let the growth be the star of the show. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her. The weight piled on, and on and on and on, ton upon ton piling onto her. She could feel the seawater as her increasingly massive form displaced more and more and more until, quite abruptly, she found herself no longer floating. Her head was still above the water, but her paws had touched ground. And she was still growing too, more and more of her body slooooowly creeping up out of the ocean. At some point she’d started jerking off, though she wasn’t entirely sure when and frankly she didn’t care.

She picked up the pace, hips bucking and tail wagging with enough enthusiasm that it was probably at least mildly apocalyptic at this point. Certainly, anywhere coastal nearby was fucked. And, with the way the ocean was foaming with her cum was also probably not great for the sealife. Whatever, though, they could fucking deal. She had other priorities right now. Like, for instance, how tight she felt. Especially in the chest. Once again, she didn’t really need to ask what the suggestion was. “Looks like someone was really fucking thirsty,” she muttered to herself as she watched even more white liquid slowly spread across the surface of the ocean. At this point she didn’t even have to milk herself – it was like her baseline level of “kind of leaky” was more than a match for how actively squeezing them had been mere moments ago and oh hell was it fucking hot.

And, of course, all the while, she continued to grow bigger overall. Thinking quickly, Isabelle shifted her arms so that they squeezed her filling chest without actually letting go of her cock – because that would be just a tragedy, but also she was getting full to the point where it honestly kinda hurt. This helped, in that she got... like, any release at all. But it wasn’t quite enough, which was mildly annoying but also kind of hot. At this point her boobs had gone from around the size of her head to twice that just from raw milk volume, and getting bigger. At her current height, they floated slightly on the surface of the ocean, bobbing up and down slightly to the rhythm of the tide and also her own slight movements. Or at least, that’s what it was like from her perspective. To a more reasonably sized person it was probably a lot more tumultuous.

Slowly, her actual growth slowed down to down to a crawl before coming to a stop, leaving her still mostly submerged, but significantly less so than she had been. If the ocean was a pool, she had moved from the shallowest parts of the deep end to the deepest parts of the shallow end, the waterline reaching up to just slightly above her navel and below her armpits. “Twenty thousand feet!” One of the twins clarified.

“Just under four miles.”

That was a lot. And there were still milestones to go. God, they had to be almost done, right? This wasn’t exactly the deepest part of the ocean, but it wasn’t exactly shallow either. And, as she’d kind of mentally gone over earlier, her... enthusiasm had resulted in some very big waves. And if this wasn’t the end then who fucking knew how much more problems she was going to cause. “So, uh, how much more is there gonna be?”

“Just two more milestones to go!”

“And after that we’ve got a final surprise round for you.”

“Surprise?”

“You’ll like it, we promise.”

“If you’re sure...” Some of that early reluctance was creeping back in as the alcoholic buzz finally started to wear off. Not enough that she had any regrets or reservations, of course, but enough for her to be just a bit worried.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got contingencies in place. You can get as big as you like, and the world’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Isabelle replied. Honestly, she had a bit of an inkling that was gonna be the case anyway. After all, this situation was already breaking several rules of physics and biology, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that any destruction she caused wouldn’t be permanent. Or something. Like she’d mused waaaay back at the beginning, this was all basically magic anyway.

“Ah, make that one milestone left.”

Oh. Isabelle had been wondering what was taking so long. Though, granted, she didn’t exactly have any way of telling time. So she didn’t have much in the way of a frame of reference for how long it took in between each milestone finishing and the next one beginning. Probably generally no more than a minute per. Maybe this had taken longer than normal or maybe it hadn’t, she didn’t know. It wouldn’t surprise her if things slowed down a bit, though. It made logical sense – they had hit, what, ten milestones? Eleven? Somewhere around there. And, granted, when it came to giving money to attractive women over the internet, people’s pockets tended to be pretty fucking deep. But on the other hand, she had to imagine that the audience only had so much collective money to donate. So obviously as the stream went on, more people would have already donated all they could afford and she’d be left with those handful of people willing to donate more than they could afford. And she couldn’t imagine there were that many of them. Probably.

Though, frankly, at this point, Isabelle could not possibly give fewer fucks about the nitty gritty details of how much money she was making behind the scenes. That was for Sober Isabelle to worry about. From Drunk Isabelle’s perspective, all that mattered was that she kept hitting milestones and kept getting bigger. Even if this was the second to last of ‘em. Were she a bit more sober, she’d want to take things a lot slower. Savour each individual stage of growth, and maybe take some time to play around with the more interesting suggestions. But, again, even if she was more sober than she had been, she still decidedly wasn’t. And she’d never exactly been a patient drunk.

And so, while her mind allowed itself to get distracted by thinking about finances and the rate at which she was hitting milestones and dumb shit like that, her body was content to squeeze her tits as she started to grow again. And grow and grow and growwwwwwww. At twenty thousand feet, she was already unfathomably huge. Honesty, she’d been unfathomably huge at ten thousand feet and then her height had doubled. She had long since passed the kind of scale that she could even slightly wrap her head around. The only thing even approaching a frame of reference she had was that she was standing on the ocean floor and yet the water level only came up to just below her armpits and just above her navel.

Make that just below her navel and just above her crotch. And then not long after that it was almost exactly crotch-level, leaving her massive fucking dong floating on the ocean’s surface, erupting with gout upon gout of cum. Apparently she’d climaxed at some point? She wasn’t exactly sure when, which might have been concerning if she weren’t so distracted by how good it felt to get bigger while squeezing her massive fucking tits. Speaking of unreasonable volumes of fluid. No matter how much she squeezed they still felt so fucking tight and full and getting fuller and tighter and bigger. She barely even had to squeeze them anymore because they just sort of grew against her hands on their own. She was clearly going to have to try a different tactic if she was going to get even a little bit of relief on that front.

Thinking quickly, she shifted her grip and lifted them both up to her mouth. Which, really, went much smoother than she’d expected initially. Probably the superstrength helping things along. But thanks to their sheer size, it did still take some finagling before she got both boobs such that she could suck on both nipples at the same time. Which, it turned out, didn’t actually really help all that much. It was a good thing that being so fucking overfull felt good rather than painful.

It was, Isabelle mused in a brief moment of lucidity, extremely lucky that however they were doing this in the first place they’d accounted for that. Because otherwise the lactation would have been really unpleasant and basically ruin the whole experience beyond salvaging. As it was, it didn’t matter too much that she could only barely keep on top of her extreme lactation by sucking and squeezing – if there was any more boob here, she would be completely overwhelmed.

And, as if on cue, Isabelle felt a pair of electric jolts, directly below her tits, that blossomed into sharp spikes of arousal. A familiar tightness and fullness that escalated as her new second pair of boobs grew in. They quickly approached her original set in terms of raw size and productivity, and she could feel her torso stretching longer in order to accommodate them. And then longer still once she sprouted a third god damn pair of massive milkers. God, she could barely handle one pair of excessively lactating tits. That second pair felt almost more sensitive than the original, and the third pair even more than that. Like it wasn’t just adding on a pair of equally sensitive tits for each set she grew, but multiplying the sensitivity of what she already had on top of that. It didn’t help that they were very heavy, pressing into each other in ways that one pair just plain couldn’t. With a quiet “A-ahn!” of arousal, her arms abruptly gave out on her, causing her initial pair to leave her mouth and flop heavily on top of the new pairs.

Allowing that to happen was, it turned out, a staggeringly, catastrophically poor idea on Isabelle’s part. The impact was heavy, and they bounced off of each other in a delightfully agonizing way. Isabelle came again, in spite of the fact that she’d barely finished her last orgasm, and then again and again, over and over again in what felt like a feedback loop of arousal.

“Fifty thousand feet! About nine and a half miles!” Isabelle barely registered the interjection. Between how insanely horny she was, the extra boobs amplifying that horniness, and the fact that maybe she’d overestimated how much she’d sobered up, all she really got from that was that she was fucking big. It probably didn’t help that, once again, she was way beyond what she had a frame of reference for. If you were to start in the middle of New Leaf and started walking north until you reached nine and a half miles away, Isabelle could not fucking tell you where you where you’d end up. However, going by her earlier metaphor of the ocean as a pool, it had gone from standing in the deepest part of the shallow end to the shallow end of the shallow end. It just barely didn’t quite reach her knees. Again; the ocean didn’t reach her knees.

“Also, the suggestion was extra boobs, but you’ve prolly figured that one out.”

Isabelle responded with a low, rumbling gurgle as she came again. Words were, unfortunately, just a little bit beyond her at the moment.

“It’s okay, you just hit the last milestone.”

“There’s just the surprise phase left and then you can take some time to calm down.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” was all Isabelle could manage in response. That, and another few climaxes. The strength vacated her legs – honestly she was surprised that it took that long to get that point, even with her newfound mountainous muscles – and she fell onto her knees and then backwards, her big fat ass squeezing around her calves and paws.

Her mind wandered back to her butt. It had been the first part of her body to really start growing. Well, technically the milk had been the first change. And obviously, if you wanted to get really technical than her height beat out both of them. But the first suggestion to specifically make an individual body part disproportionately bigger had gone to her ass. Now, of course, it wasn’t particularly impressive, relatively speaking. Between her boobs being biggened and getting two levels of milkiness, in addition to an extra two pairs, her chest easily drew all of the attention. Her butt was large, but her boobs were a level beyond large. She felt almost nostalgic in a weird sorta way. Like she missed feeling her ass and thinking “Wow, this is gigantic!” Oh, Isabelle, you sweet summer child. If only you knew. Idly, she found her hands wandering down to once again give her butt a squeeze.

This was a good decision because her hands grabbed her ass exactly in time with it beginning to grow. Not just in proportion to the rest of her, either. No, this was absolutely a suggestion. Weight piled onto her ass, by the thousands or maybe even millions of tons. She could feel it spreading across her legs, her calves and paws sinking deeper and deeper. So did her hands, though sinking wasn’t quite the right word. More like it grew around them, slowly consuming them. She grinned and began to squeeze and grope and knead it like it was fucking pizza dough. And all the while it kept getting bigger and fatter, quickly rivalling her breasts and then matching them and then fucking surpassing them. Her hips widened and thighs thickened ever so slightly in order to provide the bare minimum required support for her colossal cake, but even then it was disproportionately huge. Each cheek felt like it was, like, three times the size of her fucking head – well beyond her tits, even at their fullest.

And, of course, she was also just plain getting taller on the side. Couldn’t just gloss over that. Most of her attention was understandably directed rearward, but there was also the way that air rushed against her fur and the ocean got more and more displaced as she got bigger and bigger. It felt good. Unbelievably, unimaginably good. Like nothing she’d ever felt before, though at this point that particular string of words had practically lost all fucking meaning.

But whatever, she didn’t really care at this point. This had been going on for so long at this point, and it hadn’t ever really de-escalated from Maximum Arousal At All Times and if anything had just gotten more intense with each milestone and each suggestion. Was it any wonder that she could barely process what was happening to her anymore? Shit, she still hadn’t stopped cumming from the last milestone, which was probably the only reason that the sensation of her ass getting bigger hadn’t set her off. Or just, like, growy feelings in general. There was a lot goin’ on that was super fucking orgasmic, it was no wonder she had been cumming for the past however fucking long it had even been she didn’t know it wasn’t like they made clocks in her size.

At some point she might have stopped growing. She wasn’t even entirely sure at this point. Her brain felt like mush and her body felt like horny. Thinking was hard, cumming was easy, so she just did the latter for now. Hopefully, now that she was out of milestones, she’d be able to cool down a bit. Just... stop, if only for a moment. Calm down, finish off her climax, and reclaim just a little bit of coherency. She’d cum a lot, and it definitely felt good. But, well, at this point she’d decidedly hit “too much of a good thing” levels. Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself, mind. But she wasn’t even capable of parsing if she was done yet and that was mildly worrying.

“That’s the last milestone done!” She only barely registered one of the twins interjecting, confirming that she had, in fact, stopped.

“One hundred thousand feet! Just under ninteteen miles!”

“That puts you pretty solidly in the middle of the stratosphere!”

“Oh.” That was all Isabelle could manage, especially considering that she still hadn’t finished cumming yet. It wasn’t like this was one continuous orgasm, but it felt like every time one was winding down the next had already started and so it might as well have just been one continuous orgasm. But, hey, on the plus side, at least they were done.

“Just the surprise round to go.”

Oh. Right. That thing they’d mentioned. “What even is the surprise round?” she tried to say but all she managed was a slightly gurgly “Wha?”

Luckily, the twins did at least manage to parse what Isabelle was talking about, even if Isabelle herself couldn’t. “Now that we’ve hit every milestone, everyone watching has ten minutes to donate as much money as they can afford. Once the ten minutes are up, we run a few calculations based on how much got donated and how big you already are and a few other details and then we get a multiplier.”

“Multiplier?” It took a lot of concentration for Isabelle to manage such a polysyllabic response, and she was pretty sure that was going to be the last of ‘em until she had some time to cool down. Which apparently she wasn’t getting any time soon?

“Basically we take the number of feet tall you are and then multiply it and that’s how many feet your final height is.”

“Oh.” Once again, Isabelle was extremely not in the state of mind to do any kind of higher math. But she didn’t really need to do any kind of higher math to realize that just about anything times a hundred thousand was going to be a very big number. Assuming that “one” wasn’t going to be an option, then her absolute minimum final height was going to be two hundred thousand feet. She didn’t know how many miles that was but honestly she was already almost twenty miles tall which was almost twenty more miles than she’d ever expected herself to get. “Well, um. That’s nice?” Okay, it seemed like a series of one syllable words was something that she could manage. “Let me know when it’s done,” she continued. She wanted a little bit of advanced notification so that she could brace herself for however catastrophically big she ended up getting.

“Oh, the ten minutes are already up.”

“what.”

“The multiplier is thirty, which is going to put your final height at three million feet, or about five hundred and sixty three miles.”

“what.”

“The growth should be kicking in rrrrrright about now.”

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening. Hell, her orgasm even seemed to be winding down. There was none of the heat, none of the tighness, none of the telltale signs of an impending growth spurt. Which was especially odd considering that she was apparently about to grow thirty times taller. One would think that, if anything, those feelings would be more intense this time. She opened her mouth to say as much, but all that came out was a strained croaking noise, which was the first sign that no actually something was absolutely happening this time, Isabelle.

The second sign was the low rumbling. She wasn’t sure whether it was coming from her or from the ground beneath her. Or, fuck it, maybe from both at the same time? Honestly she felt like she might have trouble telling even discounting the whole drunk and aroused-to-the-point-she-was-barely-coherent things she had going on. All she knew was that something was making earthquake noises.

Isabelle tried once again to say something and found that this time no sound came out at all. She tried to move and she couldn’t, every single muscle completely locked up. She tried to think and honestly even that seemed to be beyond her at this point? And yet, in spite of that, she still didn’t feel anything. She should, by all rights, have felt something by now. The fact that she didn’t should honestly have been extremely worrying, but honestly all she could feel was anticipation. She knew that it was coming, and the longer she went without feeling anything, the more certain she was that when she did feel something it was going to be fucking mind-blowing. More than mind-blowing. At this point her mind had already been blown and this was already shaping up to be far more intense. Again. Once again, she kept being so thoroughly convinced that her pleasure had escalated as far as it was even possible to escalate and then it proceeded to escalate more.

Though, on the other hand, it hadn’t actually escalated just yet. It was entirely possible that she was just hyping herself up way too much and then it was going to happen and be a disappointing wet fart. Considering the earthquake noises and the fact that she couldn’t move, though, she was pretty sure that it wasn’t gonna be a wet fart.

But, then, that raised another worrying possibility; what if it was too good? The earlier milestones had already reduced Isabelle to a quivering, barely verbal mess, and this was literally thirty times her current height. What if she didn’t bounce back from this? Like, this all felt good, yeah. But not quite good enough that she was comfortable with being permanently reduced to a gibbering, pleasure-drunk mess. Was that even in the cards, or was she just psyching herself up. Much like her earlier concerns of drowning, she extremely doubted there was any real danger to her – or else Tom would one hundred percent have not allowed things to get nearly this far. Say what you will about Tom Nook, the man was a stickler for rules and safety. Hell, maybe that was why she was feeling nothing, though if that was the case then it was honestly just a bit disappointing. But, still, she’d rather there be some kind of safety measures in place preventing her mind from breaking, or the throes of her orgasms from wiping out civilization, or preventing her from accidentally drowning herself.

Though, of course, at this point those particular fears were extremely long since past. At this point, even considering she was kneeling, the ocean barely came up over her knees. If she were standing, it would maybe reach up to the bottoms of her calves, maybe. Even if she were to lie down, she’d have to go out of her way to submerge her mouth. It was less an ocean and more a particularly deep puddle.

And one that was getting less deep by the second.

That was enough for Isabelle to force her locked-up muscles to move once more. Which was good because like hell was she passing up the opportunity to jerk off while she grew this time. Her muscles rippled and bulged with the movement, reminding her just how big they were. She carefully manoeuvred herself so that her arms pressed into her tits while reaching down to grasp her shaft, squeezing all six together, unleashing what had to be quadrillions of gallons of liquid or maybe even more. She was probably in more danger of drowning in milk than she was of drowning in the ocean, frankly. Trying not to let that distract her from the goal, she placed her hands on her giant fucking knot and gently rubbed.

She was rewarded for that with a thick gout of precum that made the average orgasm look like nothing, even discounting the fact that at this point she was probably pushing a hundred miles tall and still not done growing. And that was just touching. An eager grin slowly spread across Isabelle’s face as she began to stroke, each one milking out another increasingly massive bursts of precum. And god did it feel fucking good. No longer was she feeling nothing – all of the pleasure had returned and then some. The tightness, the fullness, the leakiness, the throbbing and pulsing and growing and growing and groooooowinggggggg~

An idle grin spread across Isabelle’s face, her jaw hanging open so as to allow her long, canine tongue to limply drape out. Her breathing came fast and shallow as she slowly picked up the pace of her masturbation, going from languid strokes to furious jerks. Each one caused her arms to flex, alternately squeezing and releasing her tits, resulting in an ebb and flow of milk that pretty quickly became less ebb and much more flow. Her hips rocked, wiggling her big fat ass against her chunky paws and bulging calves and thick thighs. And all the while she got bigger and heavier and hornier. She could hear the ground beneath her creaking and groaning which was probably a bad sign but she didn’t care. She just kept fapping, faster and faster and faster until she just couldn’t hold back anymore. With a low, rumbling moan, she collapsed backwards, legs splaying out and hips bucking with literal earth-shattering force as she came.

It was, unsurprisingly, more intense than any other climax she’d had. Even the one that had lasted through multiple growth spurts. This one, she was fairly sure, didn’t last nearly as long – although really it was hard to tell – but it made up for it in intensity and volume. She was pretty sure that her cum had achieved escape velocity. She also made a point of not looking down to see the impact craters of her ass, no doubt several miles deep. Which, like, hot. But she didn’t particularly want to acknowledge the sheer amount of destruction she’d caused in the throes of pleasure. Instead she just stayed lying down and blushed furiously as the last dregs of her orgasm oozed down her shaft.

“You probably shouldn’t get up,” one of the twins interjected.

“At this point you’re tall enough you’d be in the exosphere.”

“Air isn’t a problem, but you might bump your head on a satellite.”

“Duly noted.” Isabelle wasn’t exactly versed in the layers of the atmosphere, but she was pretty sure that the exosphere was the part that was basically just outer space. Which was yet further motivation to just sort of stay put. Not that she could get up if she fucking wanted to – her legs felt like jelly. Instead, she looked up at the sky, trying not to give too much attention to the dregs of cum that she could just barely see floating in the distance. “I think I’m gonna have a nap. Wake me when I’m back to normal.”

“Will do, ma’am.”

“And boys?”

“Yes?”

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