Chapter 2: Cuddle Crush and a Dirty Mission
The movie’s glow painted Destiny’s skin in shifting blues and grays. She hadn’t moved the foot from his lap; it was a fact of his existence now, a warm, heavy monument pinning him to the floor. Her other foot rested in his hands, oiled and gleaming, his fingers moving in a numb, automatic rhythm over the rough terrain of her sole.
“You’re zoning out,” she said, her voice cutting through the drone of the film.She didn’t look at him. Her eyes were on the screen, but her attention, he felt, was entirely on him. On his servitude.“No, I’m—”
“Shh. I’m bored.” With a sigh that made her stomach rise and fall like a tidal wave, she lifted the remote and muted the television. The sudden silence was thick, filled only by the wet sound of her skin shifting and his own strained breathing.“C’mere.Cuddle.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a command. She lifted her foot from his groin, the relief so sudden it was almost painful, and patted the ruined landscape of the couch beside her hip.“Here.Up against me. I want to feel you.”
He staggered to his feet, his legs tingling with returning blood. The space she indicated wasn’t a space at all. It was a narrow, curved sliver of flattened cushion pressed against the immense wall of her side. Her belly spilled over it, a vast overhang of warm flesh.“Well?Get in there.”
He edged in, turning sideways. The moment his back touched her, she exhaled, a deep, guttural release, and relaxed into him. It was less a cuddle and more an engulfment. The side of her torso, from armpit to hip, was a hot, soft cliff face. She was so wide he couldn’t even see around her to the room. Her belly rolled forward, its heavy, pendulous curve settling against his chest and stomach with a soft, final whump. It was like being buried in a furnace of dough.The heat was immense, damp, radiating through his clothes. The sheer weight of it pressed the air from his lungs, forcing his ribs to creak inwards.
“Oh, yeah,” she murmured, satisfied. She slid a monstrous arm around his front, not so much hugging him as pinning him in place. Her hand, a pudgy starfish, rested possessively on the swell of her own stomach, trapping his arms between her flesh and his body. “That’s nice.You’re so warm. And tiny.”
He tried to inhale, but the expansion of his chest was limited by the tonnage resting against it. He managed a shallow sip of air, thick with the smell of her—cocoa butter, sour sweat, and something deeper, a musk like over-ripe peaches.
“You okay?” she asked, her chin resting on the top of his head.She was so tall now.
“I… can’t… breathe… much,” he gasped, each word a struggle.
She giggled, a low rumble that vibrated through his entire body.“Aw, poor thing. Here.” She shifted, a minor adjustment that sent seismic waves through her body. Her colossal thigh, wider than his torso, lifted from the floor and swung up, pressing against the side of his face.It wasn’t a gentle press. It was the soft, smothering insistence of a memory foam pillow shoved over his mouth and nose. The skin was hot, slightly sticky, and smelled overwhelmingly of the same lotion he’d applied, now mingled with her own salty essence.
“Better?” she teased, the sound muffled by her own flesh.Her thigh sealed against his face, a warm, living gag. He could breathe, but only in short, frantic pulls through a small gap where her flesh didn’t perfectly seal. Each breath was saturated with her.“Mmm. Cozy.” She was quiet for a moment, the movie playing silently on the screen. Then she spoke again, her tone conversational, as if discussing the weather.“So, seriously though.Sex.It’s kinda hilarious, right? I mean, look at this.” She squeezed him with her arm, making him wheeze. “Where would you even put it?My pussy’s gotta be, like, a foot deep now. Buried. A cave behind all this.” She patted her stomach with the hand that wasn’t pinning him.“You’d need a fucking spelunking kit and a map. Your little cock would be like… a grain of rice trying to fuck a mountain. You’d get lost and die in there.”
The humiliation burned, but it was a clean burn, a clarifying fire that burned away his last pretense of normalcy.This was his truth. He made a noise against her thigh, a strained sound of assent.“Exactly,” she said, gratified. “So it’s good you’re into other stuff.Service. Worship.” She shifted again, releasing the pressure of her thigh from his face.He gasped, dragging in clearer air. She looked down at him, her pretty face a moon over the planet of her body.“My favorite thing, honestly? Is having my asshole eaten.Just… completely worshipped. A guy who’ll just bury his face in there for hours, no complaints.You know?”
Chad stared, his mind reeling. His boundary, the one line he’d held in his fantasies—no feet—had already been annihilated.This was another galaxy altogether.
“Strip,” she said, her voice losing its lazy amusement, taking on a flat, imperative tone.“W-what?”
“You heard me. Take your clothes off.All of them. I want to see my little man.”
His hands trembled as he began to fumble with his buttons. The task was awkward, contorted as he was under the sheer mass of her side and belly. She watched, her expression one of detached curiosity, as he shucked his jeans, his underwear, until he lay naked and shivering against her immense, clothed bulk.The contrast was absurd.He was pale, lean, exposed. She was a monolithic goddess draped in strained, stained cotton.“Good,” she said.“Now. My ass is over there.” She jerked her head towards the other side of her body, a gesture encompassing a world of flesh. “It’s gotten so fucking big and the crack is so deep now. I can’t even reach to clean it properly anymore.It gets… funky.I want you to find it. I want you to lick it.Clean it.Worship it. Use your whole body to get in there.”
She lifted her arm, releasing him.The relief of pressure was instantly replaced by a terrifying imperative. He slithered out from under the shelf of her belly, his skin peeling away from hers with a sticky sound.“Go on.Navigate.”
He stood on shaky legs before her. She was spread before him like a range of fleshly hills. Her back was to what remained of the couch, her legs splayed.The space between her thighs was a shadowed valley. Beyond that, rising like two vast, soft moons, were her ass cheeks.They were beyond colossal. Each one was larger than a beanbag chair, perfectly round, pocked with cellulite dimples, and glistening with a sheen of sweat in the room’s low light. They spilled outward, covering most of the floor space behind her. The cleft between them was not a crack, but a deep, dark canyon, its depths lost in shadow and folded flesh.
“What’re you waiting for?” she prompted, picking up the remote and unmuting the movie. She didn’t even look at him.Chad approached the base of the left cheek. The skin was startlingly soft, giving way under his fingers like over-ripe fruit.He had to climb. He put a knee on the slope of her ass, then the other.The flesh yielded, swallowing his limbs to the calf. It was like climbing a mountain of warm pudding. The heat was intense, the smell growing stronger—sweat, stale linen, the pungent, intimate odor of unwashed crevice.
He crawled upward, his hands sinking into the incredible softness. Her whole body jiggled with his movements, a vast, quaking earthquake of fat. He reached the summit of the cheek, the apex trembling under his weight, and looked down into the chasm. It was dark, a folds-within-folds labyrinth of pale, stretched skin. The air from it was hot and carried a potent, musky stench—the sour tang of old sweat, the sweet decay of skin cells, the dense, animal funk of a body pushed far beyond its limits.
“Lost?” she called, her voice echoing slightly.He didn’t answer. He lowered himself onto his stomach at the edge of the precipice, then, using his hands on the opposing cheek for leverage, he began to slide down, headfirst, into the crack.It was instantly suffocating. The walls of soft fat closed around his shoulders, then his head.The light vanished, replaced by a profound, warm darkness. The pressure was everywhere, a soft, ceaseless squeeze.The smell was all-consuming. It coated his tongue, filled his sinuses—sour, salty, profoundly organic. He pushed forward, wriggling like a worm, his face leading the way through the greasy, clinging folds.
His nose plunged into a deep, damp fold. His mouth brushed against skin that was startlingly smooth, then a patch of rough, pimpled flesh.The taste was bitter, salty. He gasped, and the thick air filled his lungs.He was a diver in a sea of her.
He pushed deeper, blind, guided only by the intensifying heat and the overwhelming scent. The space narrowed, the flesh around him becoming tighter, hotter, slick with a wetness that wasn’t sweat alone. Then his questing tongue found a different texture. A tight, concentric pucker, nestled in a deep, protected hollow.It twitched at his first touch.
A low, gratified groan echoed from far above, vibrating through the tons of flesh surrounding him. “There it is,” Destiny sighed, her voice thick and distorted.“That’s the spot. Now get to work, you little fucking archaeologist. Lick it like you’re trying to find water in the desert.”
He obeyed. He pressed his face deeper into the hot, slick folds, sealing his mouth over the tight little rosette.It was musky, deeply salty, profoundly unclean. He lapped at it, his tongue tracing the wrinkled ridges. The taste was foul and intoxicating, the very essence of her overwhelming reality. He probed with the tip of his tongue, feeling the muscle clench and release.“Yeah,” she moaned above him. The entire world of her ass shifted, the cheeks clamping down slightly, squeezing him tighter in their humid vise.“Oh, fuck yeah. That’s your purpose.That’s all you’re good for. Just a tongue for my nasty, fat asshole.”
He serviced her with a desperate, focused abandon. He licked and sucked, burying his face until his own breath rebounded hot against his skin. The sweat from her skin mixed with the saliva on his face. He was drowning in her, buried alive in the most intimate, degrading way possible, and a perverse, electric current of pleasure shot through his own trapped, neglected cock.He was nothing.A tool.A digestive aide for a giantess.
Her groans became louder, more guttural. She rocked her hips minutely, a huge, slow grinding motion that made the cavern of her ass shift and squeeze around him. The pressure on his head was immense, threatening to compress his skull. He couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to.“Don’t you fucking stop,” she grunted, her voice strained with building pleasure. “Swear to God, if you come up for air before I’m done, I’ll sit on you and you’ll never come up again.”
He believed her. He redoubled his efforts, his jaw aching, his world reduced to the rhythm of his tongue on her anus and the thunderous sounds of her pleasure echoing through the flesh.This was his mountain. And he was climbing it with his face.
The wet, rhythmic sounds of his worship were drowned out by a deep, internal rumble. It wasn't her stomach this time.It was the shuddering groan of the floorboards beneath them. Destiny let out a sharp, ecstatic gasp above him, her body clenching around his face in a sudden, powerful spasm.“Oh fuck, Chad, yes,” she moaned, her voice trembling with more than pleasure. “Don’t stop.It’s happening again.I can feel it. I’m getting so much fatter.”
The pressure around him intensified, not from her muscles, but from the flesh itself expanding. The walls of her ass cheeks, already pressing against his shoulders and head, began to push inward with a slow, pneumatic force. The warm, slick channel he was buried in grew tighter, hotter, the air thicker and more toxic. A new, rolling wave of fat surged against his feet, which were still outside the canyon, pinning them.
A loud crack echoed through the apartment, followed by the sound of splintering wood and crumbling drywall. The entire building seemed to sigh.Destiny giggled, a breathless, manic sound. “I think… I think I’m hitting the wall.My ass is in the hallway.”
The growth wasn’t subtle. It was a relentless, volumetric inflation. He felt her anus, which his mouth was sealed around, begin to dilate. It wasn't a voluntary loosening; it was the skin and muscle being stretched open by the swelling tide of fat from within. The puckered ring grew wider under his tongue, softening, becoming a sloppy, gaping hole.
“It’s so good,” she panted.“Making me bigger.Keep licking.I want to be huge. I want to feel this whole building under me.”
Another tremor, more violent. A woman’s startled scream, muffled and distant, came from the direction of the front door. Then a man’s panicked yelling, abruptly silenced by a wet, crushing sound. Destiny’s hips settled lower with a ground-shaking thud.Something beneath them snapped.
“Oops,” she breathed, her tone one of pure delight.“I think my thigh just… filled the apartment next door. It’s so warm.” She began to rock again, a slight, massive grinding motion that wasn’t for pleasure anymore, but for sensation.To feel the structure yield. Chad’s world, already reduced to dark, hot pressure, began to shrink further.
Her dilated anus now stretched wide enough that his lips and nose slid inside with each insistent push of her growth. The taste was overwhelming—a concentrated, salty-sour punch of deep intestine. He gagged, but the reflex had no space; his throat was already full of her scent.His head was being enveloped.
The ceiling above her groaned and then ripped open with a metallic screech. Plaster dust rained down, mixing with the sweat on her back.“My back’s in the upstairs neighbor’s kitchen,” she laughed. “I can feel their fridge. It’s cold.” A series of thumps and another choked-off scream echoed from above, followed by the distinct, soft squelch of a tremendous weight settling over something fragile.
Chad’s arms, trapped at his sides by the now-colossal cheeks, were going numb.His chest was compressed, making his heartbeat a frantic, trapped bird in his ribs. His nose was completely inside her, his mouth stretched around a opening that was now the size of a saucer and still widening. He could only breathe in short, desperate snorts through his nose, each inhale pulling particles of her innermost filth deep into his lungs.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Destiny chanted, her voice becoming a distorted boom echoing through the ruins of the building. “I can feel everything.People are so soft.They pop like grapes under my hips. And you… you’re going where you belong.”
With a final, catastrophic surge of growth, her ass swelled outward with such violent force that Chad’s body was fully engulfed. His shoulders popped into the tight, hot space. The fleshy tunnel convulsed around him, not with muscle, but with the unstoppable advance of fat cells multiplying, compressing him forward like a piston in a slick, organic cylinder.
His head was forced deeper, his face ploughing through a tight, muscular ring that had stretched beyond all recognition.His world became a uniform, skin-temperature, viscous dark.He was inside her. Properly inside.Past the ring. The pressure on his skull was immense, a constant, even squeeze that threatened to collapse bone.
She sighed, a sound of ultimate contentment that vibrated through the colon now encasing him.“There.Perfect.You’re my little core now.My prize. Just stay there and make me fatter.”
From his new, embedded perspective, he felt the next expansions internally. A deep, rolling quake as her belly settled, flattening another floor of apartments. A low, crunching ripple as her thighs spread wider, pulverizing support beams and furniture and bodies into a single, homogenous mass beneath her. The screams had all stopped, replaced by a pervasive, moist silence and the creak of dying architecture.
Chad, buried face-first in her rectum, cemented in place by her own immense, still-swelling bulk, became a permanent fixture. A human plug in a goddess’s ass, his every attempted breath feeding her growth, his ultimate, smothering purpose complete.
Time lost meaning inside her. Chad’s universe was a skin-tight, hot dark, rhythmic pressure, and the constant, low groan of the building’s death. He breathed in shallow, strained hitches, each inhale pulling the dense, fermented stink of her lower tract deep into his lungs. His mouth, stretched painfully wide around the distended ring of muscle, was flooded with a bitter, saline drip.
Outside, Destiny sighed. The sound was a seismic event. “Fuck, that’s good. You’re like a little battery in my ass. Making me so full.” She shifted. A continental grinding vibrated through her bones and into his skull. Distant screams, new ones, filtered down from above—thin, sharp sounds of fresh panic. They were quickly smothered by a wet, crunching settle. “Oops. That was the roof garden. All those pretty plants.”
Her colon convulsed around his head, a slow, peristaltic pulse that had nothing to do with digestion and everything to do with relentless expansion. The mucosal heat intensified, becoming a soupy, biological warmth that seeped into his hair, his pores. A fresh gout of thick, viscous fluid trickled from deeper inside her, coating his tongue with a coppery, fungal taste. He gagged, his throat working against the invasion, but there was nowhere for it to go.
“You swallowing all that, down there?” she called down, her voice a distorted boom. “You better be. That’s my juice. That’s what you’re for.” She chuckled, and the vibration made the flesh around him quiver. “God, my ass is so fat it’s cracking the foundation. I can feel the parking garage underneath. All those little cars.”
The pressure increased. Not just around him, but from within him. A terrifying, full-bodied compression began at his feet and moved upward, a slow-motion crush. It was her cheeks. Her ass was still growing, inflating laterally with such force that it was now compressing the very cavity he was embedded in, squeezing his body tighter into a fetal shape. His knees were forced up toward his chest inside his fleshy prison. His spine creaked.
“Mmm, yeah,” she moaned, a sound of deep satisfaction. “I’m really filling out now. This whole city block is my chair.” A series of thunderous booms echoed, the sound of supporting columns failing. The light—what little had filtered through the translucent, stretched skin of her inner thigh—vanished completely. They were sinking. Or rather, she was settling. The building was giving way, and she was descending into its rubble like a queen into a throne of concrete and steel.
Her anus, stretched taut around his face, rippled. Then, with a soft, wet, tearing sound, it dilated further. The ring of muscle, stressed beyond limit, simply surrendered. It didn’t relax; it split. A hot rush of blood and fluid washed over Chad’s face, mingling with the other secretions. The coppery tang grew overpowering. The hole was now wide enough that his entire head, up to his neck, was fully inside her rectal cavity. The pressure on his skull was absolute, a constant, even force from all sides.
“Oh shit,” Destiny gasped, her voice hitching with a strange pleasure-pain. “That felt… really fucking good. Like popping the tightest knot. Keep breathing, battery. I’m not done.”
And she wasn’t. The growth surged again, a tide with no ebb. From his embedded perspective, Chad felt it as a profound, outward push. The fleshy walls around him thickened, hardened with new strata of fat, then pushed relentlessly against him. His own body was the only thing giving any resistance. His ribs groaned in their cage. A sharp, hot pain lanced through his pelvis. Something cracked. A low, pathetic whimper vibrated in his throat, swallowed by her colon.
“You hear that?” she said, her voice dreamy, conversational. She was speaking to someone else. “That’s my man. He’s in my ass. He’s making me bigger than your whole fucking life.” There was a muffled, sobbing response. A man’s voice, begging. “Shut up,” Destiny said, not unkindly. Then a soft, wet splutch. The begging stopped. “Your head was in the way of my thigh. So rude.”
She adjusted her position, a vast, weary settling. For Chad, it was cataclysm. The new, monumental weight of her—now undoubtedly spanning multiple ruined structures—settled downward. This final settle forced his compacted body deeper into her. With a sickening, slow-motion slide, his shoulders popped through the ravaged entrance. His upper chest followed. He was in up to his sternum, buried in a hot, slick, muscular sleeve that pulsed with her heartbeat. The broken bone in his pelvis ground against itself. White fire flashed behind his sealed eyelids.
“Perfect,” Destiny breathed. She was panting slightly, a giantess after a modest exertion. “You’re all the way in now. Just a little pair of legs kicking in the open air. How’s the view in there, Chad? You getting a good look at my intestines?”
He tried to scream. The sound was a damp, bubbled nothing, lost in the labyrinth of her bowels. His legs, the only part of him still in what was left of the world, flailed weakly. They brushed against something rough and cold—a shattered brick wall, perhaps, or a twisted steel beam.
“Cute,” she said. He felt a massive, clumsy touch on his calf. Her fingers, each as big as his leg, closed around his ankles. “Let’s get you properly installed. No drafts.”
With a gentle, inexorable pull, she drew his legs up. She didn’t force them into the hole; there was no need. Instead, she simply folded his body completely, pressing his thighs against his chest, compacting him further. Then she lowered the titanic shelf of her right buttock.
The last light vanished. The last sensation of open air died. The crushing, humid warmth became total and eternal. She wasn’t sitting on him. She was sealing him in. The final, unimaginable volume of her ass flesh settled over the opening, over his folded legs, sealing the cavity like a fleshy airlock. He was fully encased. A fossil in a new, living geology.
She sighed, a contented, final sound that shook his world. “There. All tucked in. Now we can really get comfortable.”
He felt it then. Not a surge, but a slow, terrifying, and permanent escalation. A deep, resonant hum seemed to originate in the very marrow of her bones. The fat encasing him grew hotter, denser. It was no longer just tissue; it was a reactive substance, fed by his presence, his degradation, his stolen breath. The walls of her rectum, now hugging his entire crumpled form, began to exude a fresh, slick oil that smelled of petroleum and decay. It coated him, seeping into his broken skin.
Outside, the destruction entered a new phase. The sounds were no longer of crumbling, but of compacting. A steady, rhythmic, gravitational crunch, over and over, block by block. She was no longer just sitting on the ruins. She was merging with them. Her body, in its endless growth, was becoming the landscape. His lungs burned for oxygen that was now just a memory. Each desperate drag of air pulled more of her thick, gassy miasma into his bloodstream. His consciousness, starved and brutalized, began to fray at the edges, dissolving into the pungent, perpetual dark.
Destiny hummed a tune from her game. It was off-key. It vibrated through him. “I think,” she mused, her voice the only sound in a world she had silenced, “I’ll grow tall enough to see the ocean from here. I want my toes in the water. You can stay right there, okay? You’re my good-luck charm. My little heart. My foundation.”
And as the last of his coherent thought dissolved into a silent, screaming parody of worship, the pressure mounted one final degree. It was not a spike, but a plateau reached—a permanent, atmospheric weight. The hum deepened. The heat dialed up a notch. The chemical smell sharpened. She had stopped getting larger. She had become largeness itself, a perpetual, hungry motion. An event horizon of flesh.
SHE GROWS LARGER.
The statement was no longer an event. It was the law of this new world. It was the last truth Chad would ever know.