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twitchesandstitches · 4 years

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Polypa’s Victory Growth Comm

Commission of Polypa growing hyper-sized anime-esque proportions; I was given leeway for the actual circumstances, so I went with a more fantastical setting this round.

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It began with a hunt; victorious, mighty, and Polypa standing high over her prey.

Polypa roared in triumph, as only a troll could, and the other hunters (humans, trolls, carapacians, and other beings) saluted her, shaking weapons and claws and their own fierce mutations. Fangs gnashed, tusks were clanged together, and several of the more excitable trolls headbutted humans who had thought to wear helmets.

Polypa bowed her head, taller than some but shorter than others, her figure well-built and beefy; an ideal weapon to aim at the enemies of clan and oath-kin. Slowly she slid off the massive torso of the devil beast, her head still tilted backwards in a gesture of docility.

And she gazed upwards and kept craning her head back as the enormously muscular and motherly body of Nepeta Leijon, the progenitor of all olivebloods and Huntmaster of the creators, raised her massive paws up.

Leijon was massive; her hips wider than a doorway, her shoulders individually broader across than Polypa’s whole body, her armor distorted by the huge swells of her curvy frame, her large belly suggesting a hint of divine pregnancy. Her hands, as big as Polypa’s whole chest, raised up, claws extending out over the metal hand-blades she wore. Polypa tensed, dreading a frown or criticism from her, the first of their kind…

And Nepeta applauded her, a warm smile on her atavistic snout. Several antannae sprouting from her face like whiskers tweaked as her smile grew. “Good job, everyone! This is going to go in the records!”

They cheered at this. Someone Polypa couldn’t see declared, “All the other reenactment clubs will be so jealous!”

Nepeta, goddess and incidentally president of the Peeled Bones Rennactment Society, smiled indulgently. She took another look at the corpse, and said something that made Polypa stop: “Oh, good job, Polypa! You struck the killing blow!”

The others gathered around, saying things along the lines of ‘good on you!’.

Konyyl Okimaw, Polypa’s childhood friend, rival, occasional mate and professional pain in the neck, gave her a level look Polypa found hard to parse. Was it indignation? Jealousy? Genuine pride?

Konyyl then grinned, and applauded as well. “Congrats, burny girl. You fried that bastard good!”

Polypa glanced down at the beast, the flames from her special claw weapons still blazing upon it, and she preened. “Well, I don’t wanna brag…!”

“You should,” rumbled Li’l Hal, an ironically named war construct from ancient days, towering over the rest with a truly fearsome arsenal still dripping in bloody ichor. Just to be super-extra, he still kept that look even outside the hunts. “Or I’ll take credit for it.”

Nepeta gave him a look. “Don’t tease her!”

Hal winced, in the sense of his many articulated face plates wiggled contritely. “Yeah, ma’am. Sure.” Polypa smirked at him. He made a rude gesture at her, which Nepeta pretended not to have seen. Instead, Nepeta stood forward, extending the godforged green claws (said to have been crafted with some pieces of the green sun used in shaping the new universe they knew), and she sang the song of gratitude to the spirit of the prey. It had been an old song when she made this universe; it sounded older even now, these many eons later.

Then her massive arm blurred, and blood sprayed onto the ground. Her cut avoided getting any on herself, but it did land on the grass. It began to grow faster, swelling upwards with sudden blooms, but in that moment, they were too focused on the ritual of slaughter to notice this.

Nepeta wrenched out the heart of the beast, still dripping blood, and she carefully handled it so that she did not get much on her. The blood of these beasts could have strange effects even on gods, but her magic contained it, aimed those transformation effects on those honored by her. And she offered the heart to Polypa.

“Take it,” the goddess of the hunt said, her expression keen, glowing faintly with her divine olive light as her powers blessed Polypa, priming her for the benefits of her benediction. “You’ve earned it.”

Polypa did not waste time with refusal or meek protests. You didn’t argue with the lion goddess, and anyway she had a habit of just rolling through arguments without ever raising her voice or changing her tone from a sweet, gentle tone. Polypa accepted the heart, bowing her head with awkward grace. Briefly, she wished she could have a quick discussion with her moirail Tegiri on the proper protocol of divine gift receiving; he knew all about that kind of thing and she most absolutely did not!

Nepeta just kept half smiling in a pleasant, amiable way that nicely defused her tension. Polypa awkwardly smiled back. Nepeta patted her shoulder, leaving a bloody clawprint on the furs she wore, and bowed her head low, standing up high until she towered even over Polypa’s amazonian figure. “You may eat.”

Polypa looked down at the heart, which was no longer beating. That possibly would have made it a bit stranger. The black blood still poured, so much of it that it was frankly implausible, maybe it was actually the natural magic of the beast, Polypa mused, still being processed into an organic stuff not so different from blood. Certainly it tingled on her skin, in a surprisingly pleasant way. That was a bit odd; it felt warm, tingling pleasurably. Part of her felt the hints of bloodlust her people were blessed with, the joy of the hunt and the ecstasy of feeling the blood FLOW-

She got a handle on it. Tamping down bloodlust was one of the first things done in the club’s hunt training. She opened her mouth, her jaws working strangely as her mouth fully unhinged, membranes connecting them as they gaped impossibly wide, her lower jaw expanding wide like some kind of anglerfish, and she scooped the heart up into her maw and swallowed it. Her throat squeezed around it, squashing it into a pulpy mass sliding down so sweetly into her belly.

“Is it supposed to tingle like that?” She said, patting her enormously detailed muscle belly with some concern. Her claws scraped against a bulge of gut that wasn’t quite as thick as her abdominal muscles.

The general feeling from the others was along the lines of ‘I dunno’.

And that was then.

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And this was now.

Months after the hunt, Polypa stretched through her morning exercises, enjoying the weight at her front, and the wonderful flex of all those new splendidly aligned muscles all going up her back.

She was stronger, now. She was… famous, in ways that the hunting reenactment clubs didn’t really think to cater to. And most of all, she was bigger.

She paced through her room, adopting a stride naturally for hips that were much wider now. She didn’t so much walk as sashay, a rolling stride that tended to draw gazes downwards with sheer motion power alone.

At her front, her breasts bounced in all their massive glory, almost bigger than she was, and to feel them moving with each sway, every little bump against her muscular belly… it was a pleasure.

In many ways, she looked every inch like the heroines of the shows she and Tegiri loved so much, that had inspired her to join the hunting club to fight mighty beasts. Wait… no. She was so much bigger than even they were usually drawn!

The thought put a smug grin on her face.

Polypa was a large troll. Larger now, in fact; her doorway had been remodeled several times over the past few months, scaling increasingly upwards just so she could fit through it. Fortunately it hadn’t (yet) gotten to the point that she was in danger of going past the ceiling of her hive; they were built to be as tall as possible, given considerations like the size of some lusii. Even so, she had to walk with her head low, her body lowered so much she felt like she was constantly about to drop into a quadruped stance. And, well. Given the size of her assets now, that would probably be a poor move.

And she was still scraping her ceiling up with her horns. The weight of them, arcing up through her scalp-quills, had almost doubled; they had to be as long as her forearm now, their jagged edges so much more pronounced that not even the armor of worthy prey or warriors would pose a threat.

Distantly, she heard a murmuring, the distinctive sound of many people gathering about as a respectable distance, and she smirked to herself. It was a faint, confident smile, as much self-adoration as anything else. Her public was arriving.

Yes; she didn’t much like hanging out in her hive all day, even before all this, and now that her hive was too cramped for her new stature, and the impact of her body, she had taken to spending a lot of it outside.

And being… admired.

She finished her meal, jaws unhinging as she swallowed her food and edible dish whole, and it made a brief bulge in her throat as she swallowed. She did a few exercises before she went to go on her daily jog, mostly to accommodate her body.

The back muscles were important. They formed a new support structure for her back, flexible and rigid in turns as required by the bouncing hulks at her front, but she felt better working them out first before doing anything intensive. And it felt good working them out, making them stronger. She could FEEL them growing bigger; perhaps it was just her imagination.

Polypa finished her stretches and strode to her doorway, opening it; moonlight poured in, and as she saw the crowd doing its best to huddle around secretively, she tilted her head up, preening. “Hello there,” she said amiably to them. They flushed, almost every one of them a hardened berserker or carapacian brute, and they were still reduced to squirming lumps of shyness in her presence.

It was so cute.

Polypa exited the doorway, and cut a dramatic figure as she left. But it was her breasts that exited first.

And they were gigantic; perhaps there had been some cow-beast in the genetics of the monster that had empowered her, or it was some latent mutation in her olive blood set loose, to make her so mighty. Though Polypa was a juggernaut weighing over fifteen hundred pounds of muscle mass, far more of it was in her breasts; each one was eight hundred pounds heavy, dipping from her throat to almost her knees, the teardrop-shaped masses almost as long as she was tall, and so wide that only their amorphous squishiness let her force them through the doorway. They sloshed heavily, a payload of nearly three thousand gallons of milk making them even heavier, swelling to even bigger sizes.

They bounced hypnotically, the crowd awestruck by her size as she strode out, towering over them even at range. It was hard to appreciate her figure behind her bustline, but Polypa was a curious blend of amazonian and extreme hourglass; her waist impossibly tiny, her hips shockingly enormous. Her butt stuck out like a gelatinous platform, and her shoulders were broad enough that most trolls (most only coming up to her waist, admittedly) could ride comfortably on one. Her muscles stood out, as defined as carved stone, and wearing only small shorts and a tiny beach-top to cup her breasts, it was impossible to not be aware of this.

Polypa strode out, the outer swell of her muscular gut smacking into her breasts and making them bounce up with every step. Her shoulders flexed ,her hips swayed, her butt moved so perfectly; every motion was a delightful frisson, and Polypa restrained herself from a soft moan only with the hunter’s focus that had earned her these benefits in the first place.

She kept going; step after step, moving in just such a way as to make sure everyone’s eyes were on her. She had EARNED this look, earned every magnificent inch she’d piled on. She would make quite sure they saw it all, just as surely as she had always carried her hunting trophies on high whenever it came to call.

She glanced and saw Tegiri sitting atop a hermit’s pole, apparently to catch some brisk morning air before his own run. He glanced at her, with an expression that was somehow totally deadpan. He nodded, just once, as if to say ‘good morning’. There was no real indication or commentary from him over her transformation, besides some vague comments on his part that he could help remodel her home.

She appreciated it. He knew her worth; she didn’t have to blare it with him like she did with others. And that pleased her.

Polypa did some more stretches, and noticed a few people imitating her specific stretches. As she hefted up her own breasts, their immense weight making excellent exercise for her arms, and stirred up her milk stores, she thought it was nice to be… inspiring people like that.

She whistled, and they all looked at her. “Right, then!” she said brightly. “Everyone, after me! It’s a training montage!” She pointed at a few random people in the crowd. “We got a tournament coming up, and if you want to hang out with me, you gotta compete!”

“We what now?” Someone (Joey, she thought vaguely) said in a small voice.

“Ah,” Tegiri said. “First the training montage, in preperation for the tournament arc?”

Polypa smirked. “See. You get it!” The others looked dumbfounded, but now helplessly caught in her wake.

And so off they went when she started to run, the quaking of her breasts causing shockwaves around her, and into the night they went.

#/#//#///#////#/////#queued #commissions #my writing #fics #twitchy!homestuck #twitchy!polypa

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