Commission for a friend, who asked for something with a huge punky Raven with a massive butt affectionately gobbling up Starfire after already filling up on some criminals!
Featuring extreme size difference, Raven as a bottom-heavy dumptruck-type and Starfire as a (proportionately smaller) amazon, safe vore for Starfire, regular vore for the criminal prey, extreme amounts of piercings.
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The gigantic figure of the superheroine Raven drifted up from the beachfront property of Jump City, carrying a considerable reduction in the city’s plummeting violent crime rates. Magic poured out around her and crystallized into the physical form of black pseudo-fluid, so that she flew freely, towards home. Magic gushed out from it, telekinesis buoying her upwards so that she actually flew. To a massive tower shaped like the letter T, she went, floating into an open balcony and dropping down with a nasty thud like a truck slamming down.
It had been many years since Raven had begun her career as a superheroine. The image of her as a small and slender young lady was very outdated.
The embers of magic around her body fluttered like a cloud of black feathers caught in an updraft and winked out. It seemed they’d been supporting her whole body, as she sank even deeper to the floor, tiles cracking around her immense weight; unconcerned, she walked onwards.
The building was the T-Tower; both headquarters and residence of the superhero team called the Teen Titans, though the name was rather inaccurate given that now all of them were over twenty. It was built to resist the constant villain attacks it had suffered in older days, but it hadn’t accounted for Raven’s physical power: as she walked down, the floors creaked in protest, her heels making tiles shatter when she stepped down too hard. She did her best not to, wobbling with an ungainly stride, her body now so large and her hips so wide that they touched both ends of a hallway even while she walked in the middle of it.
She came into a sideroom where someone was waiting for her. Raven’s belly preceded her into the room, greatly distended by the mass of today’s meals, and she was only marginally aware of anything but the rapturous pleasures of digestion. Certainly she didn’t notice the glowing green eyes of someone floating near the ceiling, watching her adoringly.
Raven seemed distracted, perhaps by the huge belly that preceded her into the room, or the pleasures of her digesting meals; her sexual appetites had grown intertwined with her physical hungers, and few things were as pleasing to her as feeling things melt inside her. Her digestive processes were loud, the gurgling of various internal chambers mixing with the wet and pulsing shifting of her gut, and yet it was strangely soothing all the same.
Raven waddled, her head almost rising clear to the ceiling, more than three times taller than a normal human and impossibly wide for her height too; her hips especially had so much girth that it affected the way she moved, wobbling about in a clumsy pseudo-gait that was honestly rather cute. It might have just been her not being used to walking with heels, or that between her massive breasts, her huge gut, and her enormous hips, she had multiple centers of gravity conflicting against each other and unsteadying her all over.
In all honesty, and perhaps especially from the perspective of the woman watching the giant stride through, it was awe-inspiring watching her move. The woman was massive, easily standing fifteen feet tall at least without heels; a nearby counter rose somewhere around the level of her plump knees, and she was broader across at the torso than most doors were wide. For the most part her body would have been considered amazonian (tall, broad shouldered, and her hips the single largest part of her, all tending towards a heavier build), but even a side glance at the sheer amount of wobble in even the slightest movement made her extremely soft and well-fed body a fairly obvious sight.
From the impact she’d made, it was clear she weighed over four metric tons; more than a couple of trucks, and much of it from her bones being far denser and heavier than a human’s would be. The rest of it was from her girthy frame, and certainly a lot came from her breasts, and they were so large they defined a huge chunk of her entire silhouette, sticking out from her body by several feet, and spreading out sideways too.
In normal circumstances, those breasts would have spanned from throat to navel. But her belly was huge, a round and jiggly mass that served as a support platform for her breasts, propping them up nearly to the level of her shoulders, while the round slopes of that belly dipped past her groin, resting against thighs so big that several people could have been lost between them.
And there were bulges against the skin. They looked distinctively human-shaped; a lump that may have been a hand pressing for grip, perhaps. A more angular swelling where someone’s leg was pushed out. All of them were in constant motion, her gut twisted and heaving with muscular action mashing up her meals with demonically-enhanced digestive fluids, and if you listened close, you might hear faint words or shouting from inside her, mostly muffled by by thick flesh and the loud roars of her digestion.
As she walked, she placed her hand on her gut. Something in there moved against her, scrabbling desperately against her, and she cooed with very loud and obvious pleasure, a faint blush on her rounded gray face, her lips smacking with an echoing pop. Other feelings were stirring, the pleasures of digestion mixing into other pleasures, and on reflex she slammed her massive thighs together, both rows of eyes closing as she imagined someone pinned between them just as her foot got goopy…
Daydreaming to herself, she walked onwards, and the unseen watcher took her in with a faint sigh.
Raven’s hips moved in an unstoppable and patient sway with her every movement, a good portion of her overall weight contributed by them. They were wider than she was tall (and given that she was at least fifteen feet tall, this made them capable of swallowing up cars if she sat on one). Even with her coat designed to flow over them, it didn’t do much to conceal that her pants were but remnants, her enormously chunky thighs ripping through the fabric and leaving behind only enough to resemble panties at a distance. Actual panties were visibly stretched across her hips, soft and lacey things that had probably once been a rather cute and modest design until the pressure of her hips had stretched them into a distended psuedo-thong.
She moved carefully, her hips and thighs so much larger than the rest of her that she looked like a ship buoyed on a swelling tidal wave; they were so broad that she couldn’t really move her thighs apart. They touched, regardless of how wide she tried to spread her legs. And those thighs were massive; they weren’t toned in the slightest, more like chunky saddlebags carried on her body; rather than the smooth and firm bubbly thighs expected from more active heroines, Raven’s thighs looked exactly as heavy as they actually were. They didn’t wobble so much as had their own ponderous tides, and to place a hand in them would certainly get that hand sunk in deep, but there was no telling if you’d actually hit muscle before you ran out of arm to keep sticking in.
This was easier to appreciate given that, in the fashion of pantyhose, she’d worn chain-nets (which were like fishnets, but a lot more badass); heavy metal links, small but strong enough to support her enormous thighs and give them some more defined shape. Her thighs were simply too heavy without more architectural support, though, and many of the links had surrendered to the tide of flesh and busted straight off, leaving big gaps where her thighs bulged out. In any case, the chainnets sank deeply into her thighs, causing a lot of x-shaped patterns and chunks of thigh pushing out like cookie dough through a cutter.
She wore knee-high boots, of the kind that wouldn’t go amiss at a revolutionary punk rally or perhaps a biker gang greatly concerned with style. Her thighs bulged up hugely around them, fitting into them a bit like an unusually fat cat trying to force itself into a tube a third it’s size; they fit, alright, but there was a lot overflowing it. Rounded bulges swelled out from pretty much every direction, shaking heavily with particularly strong steps and motions, and the sight of it would put a speculative thinker in mind of muffins.
Those boots (imposing and made of black leather, the metal caps resembling a fearsome beak) probably contributed to her walking difficulties. They were high heeled elevator boots, the heels tall enough to raise her height by half a foot, and given how much smaller her calves and feet were, it was putting over four metric tons of weight into some proportionately very small areas; with the spike of her high heels, no wonder her steps were breaking up floors.
Her butt was very big; not as large or deep as her hips and thighs might suggest, and it was dwarfed by them, but it was still very big. The watcher noted this with some great interest, her red hair curling around her more excitedly as she drank in the sight.
The gargantuan mass was obvious even through the massive leather coat she wore; it was a magnificent affair, a hooded trench coat of dark leather and a feathered mantle across the shoulders and back all the way to the bottom, so that she rustled faintly as she walked cautiously around.
It was a lovely coat, a physical paragon of punk aesthetic given a very stylish form. Over a dozen spike piercings extended through special holes, the sleeves brimmed with the mystical runes of Raven’s mysterious home realm, and the front of it was specially adapted for someone who had a chest that would pose a normal threat to any normal coat or shirt (or hadn’t been modified to hide bean bag chairs, for whatever reason). People could hide underneath it, clinging to her legs and vanishing beneath its purple folds (and probably into her thighs), and it was every bit as dramatic as the cape she’d worn as a younger woman.
Even so, while it was incredibly thick and perfectly capable of functioning as actual body armor, it did very little to conceal her butt; it was just large enough to render that a moot point, even if the thighs’ swell was more notable. The watcher in the dark looking on lovingly, her own hands clenching as if longing to sink them into that massive, glorious backside.
Raven raised her hands to the hood hung low over her head, shaped to give the distinctive silhouette of a raven’s beak. The hands were soft and pudgy, not so much fat as just rather big, the nails longer and thicker than a normal human’s, black nail polish outlining something more like claws. The fingers didn’t wear rings as much as they were encrusted with them; gold, bronze, silver and more, locking together in a shining carapace, some with spikes, some with befanged monster designs, some linked together with chains. With a deft motion and a faint scratching sound, she flipped her hood off.
Purple hair fluttered, cut fairly short. It might have been careful styling that made them resemble feathers; possibly not. She had not just the usual pair of eyes, but two rows, stacked above the other, and both sets glowed a faint and inhuman red as her eyes adjusted to the light, and the woman waiting for her in the dark studied the fine details of Raven’s face, taking in the softness of cheeks filled out with years and calorie-rich meals, all her eyes gently curved and half lidded with her satisfaction.
There were also the piercings, the studs, and the jewelry. Over the years, as Raven’s control over the emotionally-influenced aspects of her powers had gotten better, she’d felt more comfortable with expressing her taste in fashion, drifting from gothic vibes to genuinely punkish looks. Raven wasn’t just a punk now; she was the counter-cultural paragon of shock and awe, and she was covered in so many piercings that she was genuinely nervous around magnets.
Her thin eyebrows were a clustered mass of glittering studded chunks of metal, curling ladders of rings linked together by small chains, and more of those chains linked to the masses of elaborate rings in her ears, curling underneath her short hair. Her nose glittered from every angle with the studs and piercings set into it. Her lips were very heavily piercings, with a wide assortment of rings and studs of various sizes, and right on her lower lip, there was a ring piercing that was far too small for her, her lip bulging around it and folding over it as she worked her mouth about. It was fair to say she had dozens more piercings all over her body, unseen but still suggested by her tight clothing. Some in very intimate places indeed!
She paused a moment, and an enormous red chakra gem upon her forehead glowed faintly. It was easily as big as her fist (which was entirely capable of swallowing someone’s arm with a faint grip), and covered most of her forehead. From it, many pounds worth of intricate jewelry fanned out, fabrics and gossamery metals fluttering around her face, and the regal assemblage gave her face the faint impression that she was wearing a very splendid veil.
Raven smiled faintly, and then seized up; she clapped a hand to her mouth, the clanking of rings not enough to stifle a rich burp that had its own force; the onlooker nearly was knocked into a wall and had to float back up, and Raven’s massive belly rumbled, several distinctly human-shaped bodies shifting desperately until her stomach churned them into obedient stillness. The constant digestive rumblings from her gut, already serving as a soporific theme around her, grew loud enough to drown out voices if there’d been any then.
She certainly enjoyed the sensations; placing her hands on her heavy belly, Raven moaned in soft pleasure, rubbing her hands over a few distinctive bulges where her meals pressed against her stomach wall; it just felt so good feeling them move, and she felt massively lusty, feeling them slowly digesting and melting away into her body, becoming part of her…
Raven smacked enormous lips nearly as thick across as her hands were wide. Dark purple lipstick gleamed softly with a faint metallic shine, contrasting sharply against the gray of her face, a fact that the onlooker never failed to be intrigued by.
In fact, the onlooker drifted a bit closer, seemingly unable to keep herself away from Raven’s immediate presence, and knocked over a small table with a muscular leg drifting too low.
The human response to an unexpected noise in the dark would have been surprise. A little bit of fear, even. But Raven was not entirely human, and operated on a different set of instincts. She did not flee, she would always charge, and that had been true even before her indulgences and growing gluttony
Raven launched herself across the room, catching the mystery figure with her hand wrapping around its face and a cloud of hair. It didn’t seem that someone so big should move so fast, but her telekinetic powers gave her a turn of speed like a cannon firing, and her thighs were mostly bulky with fat, but there was a lot of muscle there. More than twice as big around as her entire body, folds dipping above her knees and chainnets dipping deep into them.
Raven’s mouth worked, her jaws distending inhumanly wide, enough to swallow multiple people whole, and then she worked them into a more human configuration. “How dare you-” She stopped, the sudden surge of rage and the various hungers that were now always at the forefront of her mind draining away into a soft warmth. “Starfire!?”
The woman now pinned against a wall by Raven looked positively delighted to have that massive writing gut pressing against her; her skin glowed faintly with an orange-red light, her eyes pools of soft green, and her hair a massive mane of red curls that looked very much like a living flame. She stared up into Raven’s eyes adoring, her face flushed and her gaze doing its best to be respectful.
Raven stepped back, pressing her fingers together apologetically and Starfire stood up. She looked tiny compared to Raven, her head somewhere around her waist, but most people came up far shorter than that. Starfire was genuinely a very large woman, a muscular and buff amazon who would have been imposingly gigantic compared to anyone but Raven. But then, even seven feet’s worth of massive breasts, big muscles, and raw sexual magnetism still fell short compared to Raven.
Raven’s entire persona shifted instantly; from an enraged and inhuman threat she shifted gears into something a lot cuter. In an awkward stagger, she took a tottering step back and struggled not to trip on her heels, or get dragged to one side or another by the weight of her jiggling thighs. “Oh… I’m sorry…” She mumbled, looking carefully down at her enormously swollen breasts, apparently very interested in the sloshing sound of their milk.
“It’s not your fault, dear friend!” Under her own power, and buoyed by the delight Raven always woke up in her, Starfire flew up into the air. She’d taken to wearing something like the traditional battle armor of her people, and it emphasize the massive swell of her hips, the bulky muscles of thighs broader than her torso, and served as ample support for breasts more than several feet across; the solar energy she absorbed tended to be absorbed directly into her body, making her larger and stronger as she’d mature.
Starfire kissed Raven softly on her gem, her lips brushing deeply against both gem and skin. Raven’s blush got a lot brighter, and her fingers twiddled more fervently. Starfire drifted lower, about half a head’s height, and this time their lips met.
For a moment, Starfire simply kissed her, taking the lead. Her body lovingly met Raven’s again, her breasts docking atop Raven’s far larger pair and sinking in, a slosh of maternal liquid from beneath her. Starfire deepened the kiss, her stomach sliding into the bed of cleavage beneath her, her thighs sliding against her stomach so that she was finally resting entirely on Raven, and kissing her with the kind of passion she put into everything she did.
Raven was not used to passion, or being able to be so… direct. She could do so now, more or less safely, but she always needed a route there, a little bit of encouragement. Here and now, Starfire gave her what she needed, and slowly she carefully took hold of the much smaller women, cradling her, and kissed her back.
She could feel her meals digesting, the slow churn of her stomachs processing them into biomass grist, and it played with other appetites; her hunger and her sexual lusts seemed intertwined now, one and the same. Being horny made her hungry, and vice versa, and now she was feeling ravenous.
She kissed Starfire, first with timid and fluttery little assays at affection. As these were recieved with greater enthusiasm, Raven got a little bolder, kissing her more intensely until Starfire grew into a more passive figure, simply enjoying Raven’s attentions. This encouraged Raven, making her more fierce, until her massive lips were mashing against Starfire’s face and her jaws extending, reshaping and flexing so that her lips were sliding over her entire head. She wasn’t aware of herself doing it, but she simply wanted it, and as much of Starfire as she possibly could.
She deepened the kiss. Her tongue, an enormous and heavily pierced inhuman length, filled up Starfire’s mouth. Inside Raven’s mouth, Starfire’s cheeks bulged with the weight of a tongue thick around as her own arm. It kept sliding down her throat, and now Starfire’s throat swelled up massively, distending out like a frog in mid-ribbit, and for Starfire, it wasn’t enough; she sucked on the wet slab, her thighs sliding against each other longingly as dozens of studs and ladder-piercings pressed into Starfire’s expansive throat with a delicious friction.
They continued like this, moaning and panting lovingly into one another, and soon the passion abated, and Raven reluctantly withdrew her tongue and opened her mouth, allowing Starfire to emerge, her face and hair sopping wet.
Her eyes glowed with desire and adoration. Starfire said nothing at first and just hugged her tightly with all the strength capable of crushing a car with a single figure. Raven squeaked as droplets of milk threatened to soak her shirt, but she allowed Starfire to keep doing it. She just had to indulge her.
Starfire rubbed Raven’s full belly with her thighs, flexing her body against it in an exploring way, and smiled knowingly as she felt the people moving in there. “Ah… you filled up on criminals, lover Raven!”
Raven blushed, looking around awkwardly. It was an open secret among her friends that Raven wanted, or perhaps needed, to devour people; it was her greatest vice, and her greatest pleasure, and perhaps in some ways she needed to do it to survive. Her entire body was engorged with the mass absorbed from her villainous prey, and over the years, their entire rogues’ gallery had become inches on her body and frame. Doctor Light, the Brotherhood of Evil and the various monstrous servants of more fearsome foes had all long since been melted down, their consciousnesses extracted and subjected to harmless lives and serving out their sentences.
Nowadays, more ordinary criminals satisfied her cravings. Purse snatchers, would be muggers, people who refused to move aside for pedestrians… Raven would simply open her mouth on patrol and inhale, or knock them down and swallow them in a single gulp, or pull them in with shadowy tentacles from her mouth. And nothing, nothing, made Raven more pleased than feeling people inside her, squirming and wriggling.
It didn’t have to involve digestion, either.
Starfire leaned forward, kissing her again, but chastely. Affection, without physical desire.
“I’m, um. Not completely full,” Raven said, sheepishly, but desire for her smaller lover compelling her to say it.
Starfire tilted her head. “Oh?”
Raven couldn’t help but smile. “How close do you want to be to me?”
“As close as possible!” Starfire hugged her tightly.
“How about… inside me?”
Starfire looked up at her, blinking, and squealed with delight. “Oh, absolutely, Raven! At once, if you can!”
Raven smiled, her body trembling in expectation and anticipation, and some urge for predatory behavior mingled with genuine affection and desire, and she couldn’t hold it back any longer. “All, all right!” Her head ducked, kissing Starfire again.
The warmth bloomed, between them, a hot flash where their lips met. Starfire clung to her, a wide but tight hug, her body beginning to sink into Raven’s fat body.
Raven’s jaws widened, slackening just enough. Starfire purred with expectation, wiggling her face into the wet hotness pressing on her, as that long slab of a tongue slid beneath her jawline and neck, tilting her head forward. Starfire made herself float upwards, to make it easier on Raven.
Raven pushed her mouth forward, her lips forming a sort of suction seal over Starfire's head and then her hands as Starfire pushed her fingers in. She sucked in, intending to savor her, and the smaller heroine slid in, with such excitement (Starfire eager to please her, Raven craving her in this most intimate fashion) that Starfire’s head and shoulders were already inside her body.
Hold it, hold it! Calm down! Raven thought desperately, even as her throat pulled at her of its own volition, various organs rearranged themselves in expectation, and her body rumbled impatiently.
Starfire’s head and her massive hair slid down the wet tunnel around her, every inch of it curling around her and trying its best to be as close to her as possible and funnel her downwards at the same time; it was a fine metaphor for their relationship, perhaps. She wiggled in pleasure, a single thought pulsing in her mind: she was truly inside lover Raven, completely engulfed on all sides!
A warm and fuzzy feeling, distinct from the usual minglings of sexual obsession and hunger, made Raven feel strangely content. Those other feelings were there, a part of it, but not the whole of it as usual.
She tilted her head up as Starfire’s shoulders slid down, and allowed Starfire to slide down like the world’s most intense and slow, soft kiss. It was different from the normal way she devoured her prey; there was no force, no wild predatory surge.
Starfire’s weighty breasts squashed past her lips, sinking into Raven’s tongue and then descending down into her, along with her midsection, abdominal muscles engulfed by her throat.
Then, her hips; her butt. They were so much wider than her usual prey, so much thicker and heavier that for a moment Raven felt alarmed at the sheer mass, a more wild part of her regretting that she wouldn’t digest this meal; she was just so thick, she’d make so much food! She stifled the thought, instead savoring the sensations of Starfire’s backside filling her up, and then her thighs slid down. By now, Raven’s throat was a massively defined bulge in the shape of Starfire’s body, her entire neck distorting around it. Again and again, a pulse of warmth came from the weight in her body now, wild thoughts racing in her mind: Starfire’s inside me, oh, OH, i can feel her moving, feel her breathing, she’s in me!
Then there were her feet, and those two descended into her grip.
Starfire went down, her body gradually descending deeper into Raven’s guts, but not into her digestive chambers. Raven had rotated her insides in preparation, and now a completely different set of organs was waiting for her, welcoming her with a soft and cushioned interior. Starfire slid gently onto something that felt like a very big, wet bit, little tendrils and longer tentacles extending from the walls and curling patiently around her.
Bit by bit, all of her came down, the bulge in Raven’s thrown growing fainter as she swallowed Starfire entirely. More and more of her slid down, until with a very faint gulping sound, she was gone, and entirely inside her.
Raven had to steady herself as she felt Starfire happily squirming in her, various tentacles securing her and finding their own ways to please the new occupant, and it mixed with the sensation of her other prey being genuinely digested. There was so much moving in her, some being melted down and some loving her, and her belly was swelling outwards, sinking past her knees with its new precious occupant.
Pleasure flooded her, so heavily and violently that she had to sit down.
“Ohhh…” Raven murmured, stroking her belly and letting herself fold as closely around Starfire as possible. “I think I want more of this…”
biggestcuttlefish replied to your post “What are the rough tiers of power in crossthick?”
Also where does raven stand?
Raven was reimagined for the AU with the idea that she is outrageously powerful and massive, but has little experience or ability to direct that power as yet; I’d place her at Tier 5 in terms of her overall power, but she has moments of Tier 6 extremes when she really pushes herself.
Commission of a continuation of the Raven stories, detailing an extreme where she has mutated into a completely inhuman body; for the framing, i set it up as her pestered by an alien cult that has mistaken her for a malicious goddess willing to smite on their behalf; now, she has to figure out a way to satisfy their request without actually hurting anyone, and getting them to stop bugging her.
Contains taruic bodies, multiple branch bodies, hyper boobs and butt, multiple quasi-indepentant heads, multiple eyes and limbs, multi boobs, general monsterization, the universe’s absolute most useless cult, and one super stressed cult leader.
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On a distant world, far from the affairs of the great meta-powered planets and far from even the gaze of the likes of Apokalips’ beachhead into their reality, a great ritual was, at last, commencing.
A hunched figure in a dark robe stood over roughly a few hundred others of his kind as they chanted, the whole of the crowd shifting like a tide with their swaying around a very large open space, a complicated summoning circle between them all. Dancing didn’t come naturally to them; they had large, round shells beneath those robes, which didn’t translate to dancing very well. He looked very tired, with the slumped over look of someone about to try something very dangerous out of sheer cosmic frustration.
“Raise up!” He commanded, raising his arms high. Not too high; it was clear from the distinctive swell of a shell beneath his robes that his arms really were not built for that kind of movement. It suggested some sort of hybrid between a tortoise and an ape; the simian posture of the latter, forelimbs as much an extra pair of legs as they were used to manipulate things, and a heavy snapping beak extending out, just poking through the hood.
The ritual paused. The spell continued to amass its mystical energy, and it looked something like an eye, floating in the middle of empty air, slowly opening. Light shone forth from it, into some other world. It outlined the underground temple of the cult, curling around pillars in serious need of polishing, outlined an altar that had clearly been hastily reshaped to look like a different entity altogether to suit the requirements of the summoning spell. It was an ugly temple, and not deliberately created to be unpleasant; it was just badly designed, and the misty depths of the temple suggested it didn’t get any better further in. Somewhere, architects were shuddering in distaste, aware of a truly ugly building in need of redesign.
“Raise what?” asked a cultist raising a hand.
The first figure leaned out from the railed balcony over which he oversaw the ritual. He didn’t really see the point in it, but he felt there were certain things you just went with. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”
“You said, ‘raise up!’. What are we raising up?” he looked around nervously. “Is there some kind of special ritual thing we throw in?”
The ritual leader, who was technically the leader of their desperate cult, scowled. “No,” he started to say, before being interrupted.
“I hope it’s not a sacrifice,” another said, mournfully. “The only thing we got to sacrifice is each other and I don’t think any of us is good enough for a real sacrifice!”
“I am!” Boasted another. The cultist next to her smacked her in the head. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Don’t be bragging before the Mistress arrives!” scolded the smacker. “That’s very rude of you!”
“You’re one going around slapping people!”
“Yes, for being incredibly rude!”
The leader banged on the rail. “Hey, stop arguing!” The light from the spell flickered indistinctly going dim in places. On the one hand, it was good to see that light fading away, and it was starting to hurt his eyes, but that was part of the point. He banged again. No one listened. “Focus, damn you, the summoning is going wrong!”
“Do we have a table we could raise?” asked another cultist hopefully. “Like… does the mistress like tables?”
“I should hope so,” another said primly. “I wouldn’t want to serve a mistress that didn’t like tables. I carve them for a living, being disrespected by her would make me feel so very sad.”
“You’re going to feel a lot worse when I shoot you in the face with a cannon!” The cult leader yelled, finally getting their attention. They looked up, and to his resigned satisfaction, they gasped. “Now shut up and do the dance! Get it wound back up!”
“But what do we raise up-”
“I just meant to start lifting your arms and dancing in place at that sequence, by the Mistress DID NO ONE ATTEND REHEARSAL!?” The cult leader banged on the rail. The robed followers yelped and got into position, and began to move counterclock-wise around what looked like a magical eye, but was in fact a portal.
Thrice they circled around it; thrice their robed shapes moved, the light renewing itself. A sickly, faint glow arose from the center of the portal, and it seemed to him that if it was an eye, then that eye… was opening.
It seemed beautiful to his many eyes. The universe was a vast place, and to some, what was ugly or repulsive elsewhere was beautiful to other eyes.
Around and around, they danced. “Faster!” He cried. “Faster!”
They were whirling around it now, hopping in a rapid, jumping dance, almost frenzied as some of them really got into the spirit of things. Some had bells tied to their waists, so as they leaped, mournful chimes rang out, growing louder and louder with the echo. The pillars began to shake slightly shifting in their bases, and some unknown musical instrument within them was stirred to life, so they rang out with a massive, almost deafening clang.
The noise shook the room, and it spoke to the portal, and something in the growing spell woke completely.
“Raise up!” the cult leader cried. “And no stupid arguments, just finish it!”
In staggered pairs, the dancers awkwardly came to a stop, the clanging of the pillars still loud and demanding, and they raised their arms up high. They all began to chant. What they said didn’t actually matter; most of them just mumbled whatever nonsense came to mind. The words didn’t matter, but the intent mattered, and together, the sound took on a magical weight, and interfered with that specific part of reality that was defined as the there, and bound it up into the here.
The portal rippled.
Slowly, it opened wide. There was a glimpse, through the other side; for a moment, they saw gleaming towers of shining metal, they saw skies crowned by clouds (and in all their subterranean lives, they had never seen such a thing, and it badly frightened them), and for a moment, they were stunned at the sight of this strange, other world. Some of them began to doubt that it was a good idea, perhaps, to have meddled with beings so mighty as to come from such a nightmarish place.
And then, the spell found it’s target, and invoking certain magical rules that were the price of power enjoyed by the truly mighty, grabbed a hole and pulled her right through.
Now, when a spell summons forth a truly powerful entity, something beyond mere gods and heroes of legend, there ought to be a dramatic sound effect. So it was rather disappointing when the spell did not erupt in a mighty pillar of burning light, nor did it explode into a shower of sparks to reform into its target. Instead, it simply inverted itself, and dropped its quarry into the summoning circle between the dancers.
Inside the summoning circle, something, or rather, someone, opened her eyes.
Quite a lot of eyes, in fact.
(On the world of Earth, the dread world-destroyer Trigon had sired a daughter. He’d intended her to be his vessel, to end another world.)
They became aware of a gigantic body confined within the circle. It wasn’t shaped like them; they knew this at once, but it wasn’t humanoid, for lack of a better term. Oh, there was a suggestion of arms like tangled tree roots, and a massive bulk below, and a host of other features all shrouded in a hooded robe adapted for its body shape, but things got rather more complicated once you looked for any details.
(The daughter’s name was Raven. She became a mighty heroine on that world, and forged such close friendships that when her father came to lay claim to her, they fought on her behalf.)
The enormous body stirred. It was gray and red, unevenly and at random, the soft skin nonetheless textured like scales, with sharper spikes here and there like spiked piercings built into her body, so that much of her bristled. From a top-most pair of shoulders (and it was important to make the distinction, they saw as she slowly rose up, mountainous globes distending out from her front), several heads rose up, a hood around each one.
(She bested her father, with the help of her friends, banishing him forevermore from that world.)
Each of the heads was different; there were perhaps five of them, and the first of them looked the least altered from whatever she had originally been. A massive red crystal dominated her forehead, growing outwards into a horn of sorts, and around it about half a dozen eyes (splayed apparently at random) gazed down at them. Little else could be seen of her face; enormous lips puffed out, bulging to the tip of her nose to below her chin, and as her gaze tilted downwards, the cultists shifted back from the alien entity they had called forth. Long, purple hair fluttered down them all, luxurious and shining, and longest around this first head.
(In time, Raven had grown stronger, mighty in the ways of magic and battle. As a grown woman, she tracked down her father, to end his threat once and for all.)
The other faces twisted about; one, to the left of the first head, had but four red eyes, but all were narrowed in suspicion, and at once, curled into a dark and instant fury; most of her face was a massive set of horrific mandibles and gnashing, flesh-ripping teeth, a puffy pair of black lips between them. Anger, irritation and aggression radiated from the sharp curve of her jawline, to the dozens of nasty spikes upon lip, eyebrow, nose and pointed ears that looked very much like piercings.
Mirroring that face, at the other side of the main head, was one beautiful by the standards of her people, though to the cultists it was fearsome indeed. A single pair of pink eyes blinked down at them, a third such eye upon her forehead, like the crystal of the first head. Her lips were even larger, moist with some exotic, alluring venom, and there was a hint of a massive tongue within her throat from the swell of it. She gazed at them with keen interest, excitement welling up, though restrained for the moment.
To this happy face’s other side, away from the other heads, was the fourth. This head was calmer than the others, and was so stoic and reserved it was nearly a blank face; a smooth and glassy surface covered it, with a few faint suggestions of features that would have been ideal upon a porcelain sculpture. Faint images upon it conveyed hints of response, but not emotion per se. This head, as best as they could tell, was simply very reserved, and shrouded in thick hair like a hood.
And finally, the last head was on the other side. This face was downcast, its features gloomy, and while it had many eyes, they were all on one side of her face; perhaps gazing outwards forever, in constant fear of a potential threat. Her mouth was almost nothing but staggeringly enormous lips, puffing outwards into something that might have been called a tube if they weren’t so round; they looked ideal for suction, dipping low and trembling faintly. A stir of pity touched the cultists; there was a deep, terrible misery from that face, and it completely took them off their balance, coupled with the expressions of the others.
The entity began to rise, casting off the dizziness of a summon.
(Raven fought her father, in a mighty battle of wills and magic.)
Slowly, she began to stand up. Legs pushed against the ground, and not the usual pair of a biped. The cultists dimly realized that she had not the single pair of legs (if a very tangled and unusual sort) but many pairs of legs with the hemline fluttering around them.. They rose up, and not having seen hominids before, they were puzzled at the shapes of her knees. Granted, a human would have been as well; her legs were more like a horse in terms of general shape and knee structure, to account for running like a quadruped.
(For many days, and for many nights, they battled. Without mercy and with the certain knowledge that whoever lost would be worse than dead.)
In fact, the lower part of her body was very much like a horse. Or perhaps a centaur’s, with the additional quirk that past her ample waist, her body split into three separate sub-bodies, each with enormously wide hips collectively about as wide as she was tall. It was daunting for the eye to work out, and it wasn’t until she had fully stood up, rising perhaps fifty feet above them now, and her legs sorted themselves out that they saw the leg-train of her lower body. Or bodies, spending on how you looked at it.
(And in the fullness of time, Raven triumphed. Trigon lay beaten, and at last, he was at her mercy. For him, she had none left.)
On feet more like hands (if thicker of palm, the better to run on hard ground), she turned. Each leg segment of her tauric halves continued into another such segment, so that each one had eight legs in total, the thighs enormously plush and wide, and each set of legs had a massive butt, rising up like pair of fleshy domes. Another butt grew atop it, perhaps a consequence of specialized muscle masses and fat to control the set of her hips. Her genitals were likely located under there, to boot, but they could hardly make anything out past the draped fabrics hanging down atop her, and quite a lot of roundness bulging from her thighs like some manner of livestock.
(She devoured him.)
She tilted herself towards the crowd now, her many legs moving with an oily speed that was uncomfortable to watch. They did not look away, regardless; after so long toiling to summon her here, they could hardly turn away simply because she was less akin to them than they might have imagined. The cult leader held the air of someone who had known this beforehand, and he could only hope that his followers didn’t make a lousy first impression.
(Perhaps she consumed him literally, swallowing him whole and ending him in her belly. Perhaps it was a more metaphorical digestion, and she absorbed his power until there was not even a shadow of the fiend that had been Trigon.)
She moved about, and her robes fell into place. More of her unique body was visible now, and the robes over her top half presented a plunging neckline down to where her belly button would have been if it had been visible. True, she had a fairly solid gut, perhaps a sign of her previous accomplishments in literally digesting various artifacts of dark magic otherwise too dangerous to be disposed of, but it was covered by her breasts.
(As he digested, his body and spirit consumed completely and fueling her growth, Raven… changed. Already, for many years, she had been gradually changing over time, becoming more a blend of human and the monstrous traits of a demon, and with her corrupt father’s power added to her own, that process leaped ahead many steps, so that in but a moment, she transformed.)
It wasn’t just that they were large. Indeed, all her breasts were unusually massive, each one broader across than her torso (and possibly, for the cultists, each big as a small house from their perspectives). It was just that she had so many; there were four breasts alone in the top most set she had started out with, and another three below that, and then a very large pair below that pair, and so on, all the way to her waist.
They followed the outward curve of her body, and her belly, making her even bigger than she seemed at first glance. From the sides, below her, her breasts extended out by at least four feet relative to her own scale, for the largest sets. Her nipples swelled at her fabric; some appeared to just be very large and engorged, but others suggested the shapes of breast-mouths, others clusters of little writhing tentacles. And from the shape of all those breasts, it was understood the roundness between her leg-pairs were perhaps also breasts, slung below her like udders.
(Raven returned, then, far transformed, and though they were surprised, her friends welcomed her as a family, and in time, Raven grew to accept her new form as well.)
She appeared to adjust now to the circumstances; her many eyes across her multiple heads blinking, she braced her many arms against her body. She had almost as many arms as she did legs; firstly, each breast set had its own set of arms, following down her arms, and some of these branched out at the shoulder joint for an additional arm. Others branched at the elbow into two arms; these were coupled with the additional mutation of all her arm joints mutating into the same kind of joints as her shoulders, so that fingers and elbows alike could rotate about with an uncanny degree of flexibility.
(And so she learned, in time, that she had also gained possession over her father’s realms, his demonic armies, and occupied the same mystical position as him, and so, she was now as susceptible to summoning as he was. And, in time, her power would draw others to learn the ways to summon her, making use of the same rituals that had once called down avatars of her father, and she would learn to be displeased with this.
But, alas. Such are the restrictions placed upon the mighty.)
Raven blinked, each of her many eyes, on her many faces, blinked in the dusty and underground air. It was stale to her, and to her senses attuned to psychic and ethereal influences, it also felt like old and drab hopes, without much expectation or interest. Hope for what, she wasn’t sure.
“Lady Mistress!” The cultist leader called out. “We beseech thee-”
Another cultist cupped hands around her beak and interrupted, yelling up at what they called the Mistress: “Yo! You’re kinda weird looking!”
He stared at her in horror, with that specialized expression of ‘we’re going to be smote by an angry goddess’, and cupped his paws to his beak. “Oh, goddammit. Please stop being fools for, for a single second, please…!”
She ignored them both. From the multitude of her arms, one extended outwards, and gently leaned out towards one of the pillars. It encountered resistance where she met the edge of the summoning circle. Raven’s faces reacted in various ways; the wise one raised an eyebrow in its reflection, the happy one just giggled at the tingling sensation, the sad one covered its face in horror, the angry face snarled, and the middle face simply raised an eyebrow.
“Really wish these summonings would call before actually pulling me out,” they all said together, but with different inflections depending on the face. The middle one said it calmly enough, but the others were dispassionate, excitable, dour and irritated in turn.
The cultist leader balked at this remark, calm as it was. He closed his eyes, briefly regretting his life choices with some very choice words for his congregation, and waited for perhaps a very sudden and terminal smiting.
Below him, the cultists were chatting. Some of them were, surprisingly enough, disappointed. “I was imagining something… I dunno. Not this.”
That particular cultist was nudged by the one closest to her. “How? She’s big and all! She’s gotta be powerful!”
“Yeah, but. I was just expecting something prettier. You’d think a goddess would give herself a real nice shell or a shiny beak. She doesn’t even have a shell! And her face is way too rubbery for a beak.”
Raven’s sad face turned towards her summoners. Or captors, as this particular one thought of it. “I’m sorry to disappoint,” she said sadly. The other Raven faces ignored her.
The tone of the crowd began to turn against the disappointed cultists. “Now she’s sad!” One said, stamping his feet down and crossing his arms. “I can’t believe it; you summoned an unstoppable goddess and you made her upset! God, you’re mean.”
“I wouldn’t say unstoppable,” observed the most reserved and calm of Raven’s heads. “Mighty, yes, a proper titan, if you will, but unstoppable is a BIT of an exaggeration.”
“Oh,” said another. There was something of a long, and uncomfortable pause.
One other cultist, apparently mulling this over, spoke up. “Please don’t kill me for saying this, Mistress, but you’re not selling your aura of power too well.”
“I’m not your mistress!” snapped Raven’s angry face irritably. “And it’s not MY problem if you can’t handle a little honesty! Do I look like a salesman to you?”
The happy face giggled cheerfully. “Oh, imagine us? Doing door to door sales stuff? That’s amazing, I love it.”
Another cultist shouted up to their leader. “Hey! How come you didn’t tell us what to expect! I didn’t think we’d fish up an alien!”
The cultist leader, aware that his expectations of horrible death were not to be brought here today, opened a beady eye. “How did you not know?”
“Sorry, sir, but do I look like a scholar of spooky elder goddesses?”
“I’m not really a goddess,” said Raven, speaking with five voices. “And I’m not that old. At least you got ‘spooky’ right, though.”
For answer, the cult leader pointed irritably at a statue of the idol; it was a perfect image of Raven herself, though the sculptor had underestimated how big some of her body actually was. “There. Right THERE! The statue! The damn icon we worship on our sacred days SHOWS what she looks like! You see it all the time! How can you not realize what she looked like before hand!?”
The cultists who hadn’t worked out this detail shrugged. “I figured it was, what do you call it, artistic interpretation,” one volunteered.
The cultist leader sighed, a deep and gloomy sound very indicative of the general competence level of his congregation. Raven was drawn by that sound and curled her body around the summoning circle, testing its defenses with a thousand tiny unraveling spells to find a weakness. Aloud, she said, “I suspect you’re a bit frustrated.”
He responded calmly enough, though clearly unsure how to reply to the entity he worshiped as a goddess speaking so casually to him. “A little bit, my Mistress. Yes.”
She thought about saying that she wasn’t their mistress, but a few years of dealing with religious followers of this sort had convinced her that it was wasted effort, and generally considered mean. She contented herself by asking, with her happy face, “I don’t s’pose you just called me up to say ‘hi’, right?”
The cult gazed up at her, perhaps baffled to see her dropping the otherwise formal tone the other faces were employing. “...No,” one cultist said. “Definitely not. Seems a bit of a waste of magical ritual, honestly.”
Raven tapped at the barrier blocking her from just leaving the circle. True, she could tear it down, but that tended to be destructive and she doubted the cultists would survive. She felt it weakening, nonetheless. “I don’t suppose you’d just take down this barrier and let me leave if I asked very politely.”
The cult leader shook his head. “I am afraid not, no.”
“That seems kind of mean,” a cultist commented.
“Please shut the hell up already,” the leader replied, not even looking away from Raven. The cultist he addressed pouted.
“Fine, then.” Raven’s more detached face, which she regarded as her wiser self, studied some growing weak spots in the barrier, watching them grow and the summoning circle’s geas to remain starting to fail. “What do you want of me?”
The cultist leader faltered, at such straightforwardness. “I am… I’m sorry.” He fumbled at his robes. “I had a whole speech prepared, but I think it needs a bit of a rewrite.” He smiled weakly at her. “I hadn’t anticipated you being so blunt.”
“Sorry. Don’t really know any other way to be,” Raven’s sad face said, bowing her head low so that her hair covered her eyes.
The cultist leader cleared his throat. He started to speak when another shouted out, “Tell her to blow up those asshats that won’t leave us alone!”
Raven frowned. Ah, she thought, lips curling with distaste. “I was GETTING to that!” The leader said impatiently. “Now… well. Damn. Gone and spoiled the surprise…” he shook his head, and rifled through a few pages he managed to fish out. He frowned at them, and then he spoke. “Great and noble Mistress! I call upon thee, I ask of thee! For too long have we persevere in maintaining a land of our own!”
“Mm hmm,” Raven said, carefully applying magical pressure to a weak point in the barrier’s magical field; a thread, of sorts, maintaining the spell’s cohesion. Remove it, and the whole thing fell apart without causing any real damage.
“We ask of you; slay our enemies, whose tactics and power we’ve little recourse against! On behalf of my failing people, I tell you; we cannot win, as we are, so we plead of you. Smite our foes on our behalf, we who revere you!”
Raven sighed five-fold as she finished her spellwork. “Sorry. I will not kill for anyone. No matter what.”
She gave the spell just a slight pulse, and a shimmering curtain appeared around her, at the edges of the summoning circle. And just as soon as it appeared, suddenly, it was gone. It cracked, frayed and broke apart around her.
And with that, Raven extended the foremost of her legs out; six hand-like feet moved over the cultists below, and she moved above them, her massive butts eclipsing all below her, a soft noise silencing any sound. Multi-ton breasts smacking together at such a short distance have a way of distracting the mind, even at just the level of ‘okay what the heck was that sound’.
“H-hey!” The cultist leader yelled as around them, people protested and pleaded with her to come back. “Stop, please! You can’t go yet! There hasn’t been any smiting!”
“I just said no killing,” Raven’s angry head said, the others nodding sternly. Well, the happy face tried to nod sternly, but started absently headbanging. “No matter how hard you pray at me.”
“Please?” The leader almost begged. “You are our last option! We’ve been driven out from too many worlds!”
Raven gave him a brief look at her many arms fanned out, dark mist streaming from her fingers and inscribing a circle in the air around her. “Sorry. But no.”
The spell inscription was completed. She stepped into it,and with a brief syllable of great mystic power that took on its own shadow-life as a roaming inspiration for a while, she activated the teleportation spell. A portal opened up around her, and closed with a loud bang; not from the spell itself, but from such a massive being as her suddenly vanishing so fast.
A few solitary sparks of magic fluttered down. Raven was gone.
There was a long, awkward pause. The cultists stared at the circle, and where Raven had gone. The same undercurrent of thought moved through them all, and they eventually glanced at the cult leader.
“What do we do?” One person asked, apparently deciding to be the spokesperson for the whole group.
The cult leader was still staring at where she’d gone. He stroked his beak; not sadly or dejectedly, but with the air of someone who was feeling challenged.
“We try again,” he said. “And we keep trying, until she aids us.”
“But what if she gets mad enough to kill us?”
“Considering she refused to kill just now? I rather doubt she will view it as an option.”
“So… what?” The spokesperson gestured angrily. “We just keep summoning her, again and again, until she goes along with it? Is your plan to annoy her until she goes along with it just to make us stop bothering her?”
“Why not?” The cultist sweeped majestically away. “It worked with you nitwits, didn’t it?”
It took them some time to work out the insult, which proved his point well enough in any case.
-----
The summoning was not the first Raven had to deal with, since her ascension to becoming a demon queen superheroine.
It was not going to be the last, either in general, or as she found out in dismay, from that specific cult in particular.
(Raven’s five heads coughed as the dust of materialization wafted around her, and a soapy mist from her hair. Given her significantly bigger scale, it was worse for the cultists, who coughed and complained loudly beneath her; a few broke formation to breath some air that wasn’t choked with the weird-smelling mist.
“What the hell!” All her heads shouted, or whined, or asked indignantly, as appropriate. “I was just getting out of the shower!”
“Mistress, we weren’t to know!” the cult leader protested. “Ah. Perhaps this was a bad time?”
Raven rose up on her rear most legs, her taur sections spreading themselves out so they made an effective support beneath her. She loomed tall and threatening in this way. “Is this about the smiting thing again?”
“Erm. Ah. Well, yes.”
“Answer is still no. Quit it.”
She just frowned at them until she worked out the barrier’s weakness, and once again, teleported out.)
Raven didn’t actually get to fight many villains these days; inconvenient as they were, the summonings were… an entertaining diversion. Jump City, her hero turf, was apparently now considered a very bad place to do villain jobs, which is a sad consequence of a major heroine being an incredibly large and absurdly super-powered force to be reckoned with. She was able to move planets around; news of power got around!
Admittedly, that was probably part of her problem. And it wasn’t like it was easy for her, either.
(She sighed at the second summoning occasion. By then, she was getting used to that particular summoning spell, and she made a point to not look directly at the hopeful ranks of the cultists.
“Again?” Her happy face asked, pouting.
“Mistress, it is but a small boon I beg of you!” The cult leader pleaded. “Destroy our foes, that we might be free of their threats of violence and devastation!”
“No, absolutely not.” Raven crossed her arms, many times over, so that her front looked like a ridged yarn ball. “I will not kill for you. That’s the end of that.”
“We don’t need them dead!” the cultist leader yelled out, in the tones of someone trying hard for a course of action they personally don’t think is that wise, but saw little alternative. “We just… we need them defeated! I beg of you; please, tell us what course you would prefer!”
“The one where you stop trying to drag me into your wars!” Raven said firmly. And again, around her, the barrier dissolved. “And quit with the barrier, it’s starting to get on my nerves.”
“Mistress, you are really our only hope! Please, just, consider it! For a moment!” But his cries were in vain. Raven was gone before he even finished speaking.)
For a time, at least the next four summonings or so, she found it a fun distraction from her daily routine.
(They worked out enough of her schedule, from the last few summons and the degree she got annoyed depending on what time of day or night they summoned her. At one point, they summoned her while she was still asleep, and politely sent her back in dread of how enraged she’d be at being woken up in the middle of the night.
They fetched her when she was reading a book. She glanced around, shrugged with a long-suffering gesture, and said, “No.” She had learned by now how to break the barrier without even trying, and as it crumbed, she teleported away.
And after that, they summoned her during dinner. She paused,the contents of an entire buffet for each mouth filling up her mouth. They looked at her hopefully, begging with big puppy eyes - a strange thing to see on turtle aliens with multiple eyes themselves - and she just shook her head. She teleported away, after gulping down her food.
The next time they summoned her, what popped out into the summoning circle was a small dummy roughly shaped like Raven, with a polite little note reading ‘SORRY, TRY AGAIN LATER’. It was a fun little game of wits, she supposed, even as she suspected they weren’t going to give up any time soon.)
The next three summonings after that, and the novelty began to wear off very quickly.
And eventually, in due course, she had enough of it.
(Into the circle she appeared, her arms already crossed, and in a five-fold voice she bellowed, “No!”
“I ask only that you do as the texts read!” the cultist leader said, and she had to admire how firm he was. His legs shook and his shell was shedding plates in his fear, but he still talked back to something that he believed capable of mass destruction. It gave him some leniency, she supposed.
“And,” Raven’s wise face said archly. “What texts would that be?”
He said nothing, at first. He looked mildly surprised that she’d asked. “The ones written in the tomes of summoning you forth.” He produced a textbook, one that looked copied out.
“Let me see that.” She summoned it from his hand without waiting for him to actually hand it over to her. She flipped through it, and it being so much smaller than her did not present any great barrier to actually reading it.
It was partly an instruction manual for summoning her, and the rituals for it were encoded in various mythologized accounts phrased as short stories detailing some adventures she had supposedly had. She felt a moment of respect for the cult; it had to be a great effort to even understand them, let alone decode the hidden messages, as they were mainly ciphered with cultural details and phrases that were totally alien to them, lacking any context.
There was a lot of discussion of blood being spilt, though. FIre raining down from the skies, of arminies and mighty foes being laid low, and the other sort of talk you expected from mighty conquerors, and she realized she had been approaching this from the wrong direction, as they had.
“Where did you get this book?” She asked, sending it back to him.
“Bought it off a black market magic stall, if you pardon the lowly way I acquired it,” the leader said humbly. “From a man named Constantine, I do believe.”
Raven’s eyes twitched in brief, impotent fury. She was going to have a word with the man. Oh yes. “You have the wrong idea about me,” she said gravely. “The-” she almost said ‘the book is completely wrong’, and halted.
The pitiful gazes and naked, gloomy hope of the cult surrounded her, sucked at her so that it was almost humid with want. She stared down. And she thought that they had kept summoning her, over and over, even though it was going nowhere and such a process was not cheap, and she thought: would they keep doing so, if they had any other alternative?
Something in her rebelled at the idea of just telling them they were wrong to hope for help from her. She continued, “The book’s translation is in error. I am not a destroyer; I do not kill anyone. No matter the reason, purpose or goal, I cannot and will not kill anyone ever.”
The cultist leader stared back levelly as the groaned softly moaned out its discontent. “I have gathered so. But that is not the same as saying you will still do nothing?”
“What is it you actually need?” She raised a hand to forestall immediate remarks. “Not the destruction of your enemies. What does that get you? What do you really, actually want?”
And here, the cultist leader was truly stalled, the internal script he’d run and modified and desperately tried to adapt finally failing him at last. She felt the honesty off him when he finally said, “We require a land of our own. For too long we have been chased away by our foes, who bested our ancestors in a war. But that was a long time ago, and they will not rest until we are truly gone. If they are destroyed in turn, or if we are given a new land away from them… that is all we truly want.”
“I see,” Raven said with all five voices, now troubled and feeling bad. She wasn’t entirely sure why, at least for the moment. “I will think upon this,” she said. “I will… return to you.”
“How?!” A cultist pleaded desperately. “At least give us an estimate!”
One face turned levelly in her direction. “You’ve already given me a way in whenever I want,” she said plainly.
The cultist leader nodded, after a moment, and then he bowed low. “I can accept that, my mistress.” He waved a hand, and the barrier faded on its own.
Soon after, Raven did as well, with a heavier weight on her than she had expected.
----------
In a sea of red, clouds of nebulous void obscuring all before them, with a dim sun shining down upon the mystical realm and a wide pavilion of black stone, Raven stood upon a throne of sorts suited for her unique body.
Her tauric portions lay upon three great seats, also made of black stone; in deference to the fact that no one outside of demons (who tend to have a strange dislike out of anything with positive connotations) like to rest on hard stone, it was altered to be squishy to the touch. Combined with her tremendous weight and the leverage from how long those parts of her actually were, they were bent low to the ground and she looked more like she was reclining on pillows.
Oh well. She did go to some extent to avoid the whole ‘queen of the hells’ vibe some of the outer entities she had to deal with believed she might become in time. Not only had she assumed her father’s powers and titles, but also something of his metaphysical weight; the role he had assumed for himself. It was a nuisance finding ways to subvert them.
At least the realm that was now the seat of her power fitted her aesthetic. Raven hadn’t imagined, as a younger woman, that she would one day rule over a demi-plane of an amorphous red landscape responsive to her thoughts, beneath a void-stricken sky and from a vast black citadel covered in spikes and what looked a lot like blood rivers pouring out, but she would have thought it sounded really cool. It was such a realm that all gothic vibes aspired to one day reach, the very personification of Goth as a visual aesthetic.
Suiting such an aesthetic, four other figures stood not on thrones, but perched on high spikes in a dramatic fashion. Red lightning periodically burst from the air, through misty regions that looked appropriately like clouds, to highlight their presence.
To them, Raven cleared her throat. Something of her faces had changed; physically, they were the same, but the distinctive attitudes (the gloomy downcast of her sad head, the serene detachment of the wise face, and so forth) were gone, replaced by the same attitude of her middle head.
To the others, Raven said, “Okay, so I may have promised to help someone in a way that I’m not sure how to actually do.”
From one spike, red light issued from deep within, and the figure atop it growled.
“You have got to think before you do something like that!” It, or she, snarled. It was Raven.
Or rather, an aspect of Raven. This realm was as much a product of her mind as it was a physical place… if you could really call any magical realm physical. It was the seat of her power, and her sense of self expanded into it, and so, just as how she had expressed the extremes of emotional experience and ways of thinking into semi-independent figures within herself as a heroine, she could summon them forth here to converse with.
And outside, as well, but that wasn’t as easy as it was here.
This Raven had the same look as her angry face, though she was no longer a taur-type. She was humanoid now; her body bright red, her shoulders broad and her hips amazonian, even as her legs twisted into something like the avian talons of a gargoyle, and heavy antlers grew from her forehead. She growled, and looked disconcertedly similar to Trigon when he had lived. The muscles, the size… even her hair was a pale white.
But then, Raven had always hated anger. She’d always tried so hard to contain it, to channel it and keep it away. It was the part of herself she loved the least, and imagined to be most like her father. And so, it took on a similar image to him, try though she might to avoid it.
“Don’t make promises we can’t keep!” Anger Raven declared, with a growl, and then crossed two pairs of arms over breasts larger than her torso. “Do not lie to people who have nothing left but you.”
“It is not Raven’s fault that these beings are in such a sorry state,” retorted Wise Raven. She was not so much an emotion or a thought as a state of being; a detached and calm thing, what she had always aspired to be in her youth. She appeared now as a cloaked shape, apparently shadowy… but ah, perhaps then you noticed the writing tentacles beneath, the breasts growing out apparently at random. No arms to be seen, simply a tall and statuesque shoggoth of a woman, curvaceous and refined. She was dissolute of form, but held herself together, and that was an aspiration Raven had always wanted.
She paused, for a moment, and continued. “We could help, if we can. Raven is a superheroine, after all, and if there is help to give…” She trailed off, feeling this spoke for itself.
“It did kinda become her problem when she made that offer like she did!” said Happy Raven, the incarnation of her ability to experience joy, and the pleasures of the flesh, from fine foods to more carnal matters. She was… angelic, in the old meaning of the term. Great sparkling panes of light fanned out to create the image of vast wings, over a body with no joints at all; where there might be a waist, or elbows, or something else, there was only empty space, her body parts simply floating near each other and connected by tendrils of shadow mist. More segments and sections defined a curvaceous body, apparently plush to the touch, but it was in such constant motion it wa hard to see where anything began, ended, or even what it all was.
Finally, Sad Raven made her own remarks. She was Raven’s sense of despair, the negative aspect of acceptance; her sorrow and all her pain, but also her ability to feel the pain of others, to understand that everything bled as she had done once. She was a liquid mass, almost a living blob or perhaps a fleshly slime; colors shimmered slowly on a heavy-set, pudgy body, a beating heart visible between breasts big enough to touch the ground and nipple-mouths softly weeping sorrowful songs to herself. Her hair was low over her face, her many arms crossed over in a complicated self-cuddle, and below the waist, her body was a thick trunk like a slug.
She spoke thusly: “We can help them. So… shouldn’t we?”
Putting things as plainly as this made the others uncomfortable. Anger faded a little, Happy paused in her ringing, and only Wise seemed to not be taken aback. Raven herself couldn’t deny it. There was the question, plain and simple.
She was a superheroine. Changed as she was, mighty as she had become, she still fundamentally helped people.
“They’re annoying, they’re whiny, and they have no idea what they’re doing,” Anger said. “But… they asked for help.”
Happy shrugged, with her wings. “I’m not denying that! But…” She looked aside.
Raven herself spoke. “So how do we actually do that?”
“Well, I have a few ideas…” Wise began, and the debate started as well.
For a time, they argued about this, and most strenuously on it. It was not as much of a circular debate as might have been imagined. They were largely of the same mind on the matter, and they WERE the same mind; they disagreed on the execution of it:
Happy suggested simply hitting the people of the rival nation with the sad feelings of the cult, so they would understand the problem and leave them be; Raven and the others felt this didn’t address the central issue of long-standing internal conflicts between the two. (Also, mind-whammies were ethically dubious.) Anger’s plan, among others, was to frighten away this ancient enemy of the cult so badly they’d never come back; Raven felt very uncomfortable with that one. Sad offered no suggestions, but pointed out the flaws in the other plans. Wise suggested more ideas than the others, and Raven liked those ideas enough that she disliked arguing against them.
Nevertheless. The debate went on. Many of the ideas suggested seemed to suggest the wrong message even if they worked, for they had no desire to spread the idea that Raven was a wrathful destroyer like her father, even if pretending to be one got the job done. And others felt risky, or would require a long preparation to actually pull off, or were otherwise impractical.
“We could move them to Earth!” Happy said.
Raven rose her heads up sharply, and her eyes widened in realization.
Sad shook her head. “I don’t think people would be happy if we just plopped them down there… and there’s probably a lot of them. Would they even adapt to Earth?”
Raven ignored the comments. She was getting an idea.
Happy sighed. “Yeah. Just an idea…”
“Hold on,” Raven said slowly. “We could move them. It would get them away from their enemies, let them start over, and they’d stop bugging us every five seconds.”
“But Earth doesn’t have any room for them,” Sad repeated.
“Not Earth. Somewhere else.” Raven tilted her head up, thoughtfully.
“Not here!” Wise said, aghast. “I dare say no mortal could ever live here! The energies alone might prove corrosive; it’ll take years before we can realign this realm to us completely, and the essence of our father would kill them so horribly!”
“I wasn’t thinking of here either,” Raven said. “What if we get them their own planet? A new one; unpopulated but alive, free for them to take on?”
She pointed upwards. The others looked up.
Above them, floating as a sort of trophy, was a planet, but so distantly that it looked like a small marble off in the distance. A magical barrier surrounded it, protecting it from this realm’s deadly effects on living things, and there were signs of plains beneath the barrier; of rolling forests, wetlands and mountains, and oceans spreading wide.
Raven had no idea why there was a living world, though completely unpopulated and the animal life upon it frozen in stasis, in her father’s hoard. She supposed he had grown curious at some point, and tried creating his own world to study the things he routinely destroyed. She’d left it alone after determining it was completely harmless and didn’t have any nasty traps.
Well, it seemed some work of her father’s would be good for something.
------
The cultist leader had a vision shortly afterwards.
Bring all your family and friends. All your people. Bring them to the temple, and you shall have your freedom.
He spent a good portion of the day after calling in everyone (and making sure they actually listened to him) poring over the book of the mistress, looking for any loopholes or hints that she might have an unfavorable definition of ‘freedom’. By her own words, the translation wasn’t ideal, so he wasn’t entirely confident in what it had to say by now.
Well, he thought as the day arrived and the ritual was performed beneath him. He felt surprisingly cheerful, really. Either the Mistress would deliver them what they wanted most, as she saw it, or she’d destroy them all out of pique. She had repeatedly said she wouldn’t smite them, but he had certain iron-clad expectations of entities of her scale.
The dancers did their work, ringing and leaping with skill and practice from the many attempts to bind the Mistress; the enthusiasm had been refined into respectable skill; a solid 4.5 on the efficient ritual measurements. Around them, the temple was packed, thousands of their kin standing around them with dread and a faint suggestion of hope in their eyes, waiting for one end or another. All of their people were here, and all they could do was to watch, and to wait.
(In a backwater, peaceful arm of a galaxy no one bothered with, Raven flew without need of oxygen. In the distance, around the curvature and clouds beneath them, she sensed the presence of her emotional avatars, summoned forth in physical form as duplicates of herself. She commanded them to begin the ritual, and wait for her signal to finish it.
She received a positive from Anger, Happy, Sad and Wise Ravens, and she waited for the now familiar tinge of a summoning.)
The cultist leader breathed in. He prepared himself, for one last rite. “Raise, up!” he bellowed
The dancers landed, lifting up their arms.
“Raise what up-” A small child began to say, before being silenced by a cultist on stand-by.
“Please don’t,” she told it sternly. “We do not want to go over all that again!”
The portal widened and pulsed with power.
(Ah, Raven thought as she felt herself being pulled. There we go. She let herself be pulled, this time.)
And once again, Raven materialized many worlds away, and she did not crash into the summoning circle, but gently landed upon her foot-fingers. She looked calmly down upon the crowds, cringing back from her in fear, and perhaps a little awe. In deference to the fact that her hyper sexed body was perhaps inappropriate around some, she wore very heavy robes to be more modest, and it had the effect of making her almost shapeless, a dreadful sight gazing from them from many hoods.
The cultist leader bowed low. “My mistress. I have done as you commanded me. Our people, oru families and all that is left of us, we are here.” He rose his head up. “What is your bidding?”
Raven sent a mental signal, and across the universe, a grand portal working piggybacked on the lingering traces of the summoning. “First. Come close, and lower the barrier.”
The cultists did so, circling around her, and as they did, the barrier appeared, and wound away with their dance. Raven felt a certain pressure abate, and a magical field appeared around the whole of the temple, invisible to their senses. This would be a bit… imprecise.
Then, all the people around here (rather like turtles, she saw now) approached, some cautiously, others just quick enough to be brave.
(And, above a distant and green world, Raven’s emotion avatars allowed the spell to rise, its power circulating and harnessed. They waited.)
Raven snapped a finger.
(They received it, and now, they all cast their spell.
A reverse summoning, you might call it; the spell raced down the trail left behind by Raven… and yanked it wide open.)
Beneath the cultists, the floor shimmered. Raven’s eyes glowed, in their multitudes.
“What-” Someone started to say.
And then all was darkness.
If you slowed down the exact process, what you might see was a black mist of sorts rising right out of the floor. All at once, in a massive tidal wave coursing straight up, curling around them, and then rushing out. It was cool to the touch, with just a hint of force, so it was rather like water.
But for them, it happened so fast, and so violently, that you just saw everything go out.
Vast wings of blackness rose up in a room suddenly without any light, torches blown out, the people suddenly pulled up by a mighty force, right off the ground. They spiraled up, arond Raven, and she remained still as they wailed and cried. Beyond them, the blackness spread throughout the temple, into every room and into every chamber, racing out.
Clinging to a rail by his claws, and almost drowned out by the screams of the crowd, the cultist leader cried out: “My mistress! What is this?! What are you doing!? Please, stop it!”
“Calm down, it’s not bad,” Raven said as the darkness covered her, and spread through every room in the temple. “It’s just my aesthetic.”
And the shadow appeared around the temple, rising up over it; for a moment, the temple was just barely visible, a sinking structure caught in a black sea, and then it was gone too. The black mist shimmered, spreading out two vast shapes like massive wings, and it took on a new form as the spell waxed.
It looked very much like a gigantic raven.
And then, it flapped it’s wings, and it was gone.
All was still, upon a solitary mountainside.
There was no temple. Just an empty crater.
----
Raven remained still as the temple rocked, for a moment, the screams around her making her gravely uncomfortable, and she was relieved when it stopped. She spread an arm out, casting telekinetic bubbles around those still flung up by the force of the spell, and they gently floated down.
As one, the crowd breathed in, out, hyperventilating and their beaks clicking.
“Is that… is that it?” Someone said, tucking a hood down behind their heads.
“Are we… dead?” Another wondered. “Not quite what I’d want for freedom…”
“No, you’re alive,” Raven said.
“That’s reassuring,” the cultist leader said, still stubbornly grabbing onto the rail and refusing to let go. “So… what has happened?”
Ravened grabbed him with one hand, the rest of the arms on that side of her body fanning out. “Go and take a look outside,” she said, and teleported out with him.
After a few minutes of waiting for her to come back, the crowd slowly shuffled out. It didn’t seem like staying in the temple would do much good.
The first thing they saw was the sunlight, from which they covered their eyes.
The second thing they saw, was the vast open sky, that had never known suffering despite the best intents of its maker.
And the third thing they did, was they felt a calm rain. The first rain of this world, freed from its stasis, now falling upon the shells of its people.
And for a long, long moment, all they could do was stare up, onto this quiet world, and they waited in trepidation.
“I told you, I would not kill for you, or anyone,” Raven said firmly. “And so, I have given you your own world, free from those that persecuted you. Care for it well.”
They gaped up at her.
After a long tense moment, perhaps of them waiting for her to demand a sacrifice, she added, “It’s yours. This is your new home. You’re free.”
People do not, when set free from a terrible burden, normally jump and leap about for joy. The main sensation is… a weight falling from your shoulders. A sudden realization that the worst is past, not to be seen again. And in times like these, people just… fall apart, but in a good way.
The worst is past, again. Nothing more to worry about.
And the crowd fell over, and she felt the soft sigh from them all. She smiled, faintly, and placed the cultist leader down. He started up into the rolling grasslands, wonderingly.
“The horrible light is new,” he said, trying to cover his face, noticing his people starting to retreat towards a nearby cave. “...But we can always dig deeper.”
Raven smiled, again. She clasped each of her hands together; however mutated or multiplied, each one found a partner, and came together in a refined pose.
“This is really our own world?” He asked, just to be clear. “We are… we are finally free from war?”
“Yes,” she said.
“You made us a world? Really?”
“I have brought you a world, yes,” said Raven, who preferred not to lie but didn’t mind misleading people.
He sighed, sitting back; by chance, it was into a nearby stream, and his hood fell away. It revealed a long and worn beak, scarred and pitted by age, and four tiny eyes blinked myopically in the sunlight. He stared up at the clouds, beyond which Raven’s emotion avatars were even now quietly dematerializing, and now he didn’t bother to pull the hood of a desperate cultist back up.
“I thank you, my mistress. I. I…” His voice choked with emotion, and his beak snapped shut.
She justi nodded. “No need to say anything. I get it.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
Now Raven turned, a complicated emotion requiring her legs to pivot and twist her around, her flexible waist acting as a kind of organic turnstile. “Now… it’s time for me to go. Other things to do, and so on.”
He nodded. “Yes, mistress. Right, of course!” He hesitated, and then plunged on. “Have you a command for me, before you depart?”
“Not a command per se, but a request.”
“I listen, my mistress.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… for the love of whatever deity you guys might worship that isn’t me, never summon me or try to get me again.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough, my Mistress. Well, okay. Not my mistress, per se, but… I suppose its clear enough.”
“That it is,” Raven said, and quietly departed for home one last time, and to fix that summoning spell to not work on her anymore, and then have some very pointed words with Constantine.
Commission of a continuation of a previous fic with a hyper butt Raven with a massive appetite, continuing with her getting even bigger and more sexually charged, showing her having a regular day!
Contains hyper butt sexiness, smut scenes, giantess Raven, some mild sexy upgrades for the other Titans, Starfire being adamant about showing off Raven’s gloriousness, Beast Boy being a bit of a pest and engaging on some hyper Raven loving, and John Constantine being a bit of a dick.
----------
Mornings in Titans Tower were a lazy affair, and in their earlier years and Robin’s attempts at instituting some kind of schedule, trying to make them all wake up on schedule was fairly pointless.
The Titans, back when they’d been a group of superpower-tier teenagers, had enough troubles when it came to sleeping consistently. Robin’s highly demanding daily personal routine was ironically the most normal among them, as he was an ordinary human. There was consistency in what he required. The same couldn’t be said of Starfire (a broadly humanoid alien undergoing puberty metamorphosis), Cyborg (who had so little human biology left that it was honestly debatable how much of him really was that same boy who almost died in an accident), Beast Boy (a chimera with biology best described as ‘an actual mess, how the hell are you even alive at this point’), and then.
And then, there was Raven.
She wasn’t human either; her father was a demon lord of great power, and maturity had mutated her into something distinctly monstrous (if attractively so); her teenage years had been a nightmare, often literally, as she’d grown and transformed into the ravenous giantess she’d become. Sleep had been a luxury, not a nightly activity.
They were grown now; they were all adults, and those days were long behind them, but the habits remained, and they all awoke at their own pace when emergencies didn’t force the matter. They took a very casual approach to their daily schedules.
Now the horrible light of morning came through the windows, against the door to Raven’s room.
The thing about Raven’s room was that it nicely highlighted some of the ways she’d changed. As a younger woman, Raven had tended towards dour and frightening attitudes as a form of self defense, for others if not herself; getting too close for her had been... dangerous. Her door had been a a spiky and ominous thing, the sort of door that even someone who disdained flowery language would find themselves struggling not to call a dread portal.
This door was significantly bigger than in her youth. The walls in general had been redesigned, for that matter; the enormously thick walls looked fit for a blast-proof bunker hull, rising several stories off the ground to a high ceiling, with the general effect being that trucks could have parked in there with room to spare. It made a lot of open space, with clever uses of surface details preventing it from looking oppressively open. The doorway to her room reached nearly to that ceiling.
It wasn’t as needlessly spooky as memory recalled. It was still kind of spooky; Raven had her aesthetic preferences, though these days she leaned more towards ‘extreme punk’ than ‘goth that talks to elder horrors’. Dark convex surfaces had been shaped just right, and with a good polish to distort any reflected images.
More notably, though, it was enormous. The whole thing was split into a double door, wider even than it was tall; and considering that it was nearly thirty feet high, standing in front of it could be a daunting prospect.
There was some commotion on the other side, in the distinctive tones that someone was, despite their best efforts, awake. There was a lot of dragged sounds and grumbles, and the clatter of things apparently flying around and smacking into each other, and the increasing tread of something very, very big approaching.
The doors opened, and two things were clear: the first, the door was built to Raven’s size, in all its seemingly oversized glory, and that it was still too small.
The second detail was that Raven was a towering, hyper curvy giantess, and very inhuman-looking at that.
She yawned, and the sound made the windows rattle; her jaws stretched wide, impossibly wide, enough to swallow a normal human whole if she’d been human-sized. But no, she was far larger than that. She would have been a towering, terrifying sight from a human perspective, the average person only tall enough to peer up from below her knee in awe. Raven stood nearly to the ceiling, her demonic heritage having rebuilt her body into a far larger and imposing frame, properly able to harness the essence of her father (Whom she had devoured years ago, absorbing his power and speeding up a transformation into her present form).
Her body was, broadly, still human. She was a biped, she had a human-like face, she was still roughly humanlike. But her hips accounted for much of the door’s alarming width; they were enormously broad, even wider than she was tall, most of her mass concentrated into hips that were apparently (from the fluid way she swayed, oily and fascinating to watch) far broader than normal human hips, presenting some intriguing differences in the way she moved. At least forty percent of her weight was concentrated into those hips, but not just her hips.
She took a step; a good portion of that weight was in her thighs, and they were just as wide as her hips, the broad and jiggling masses barely tensing as she shifted her gait forward. She took a step, and the tower didn’t shake, but it felt like it should have. Nothing that big should land without some kind of dramatic impact. Her thighs wobble, and kept doing so after her other leg followed, and her thighs were so broad that they never stopped touching in the middle. They weren’t particularly firm either; their jiggle was genuinely fatty bouncing, and a single glance made it clear that if you didn’t resist the urge to slam your body into those legs, you’d sink in until you hit solid muscle and that would probably take a while.
Raven yawned again. Her face was an interesting matter; her features hadn’t become unrecognizable, though the multiple eyes she had sometimes developed while in the throes of power had become permanent; one pair was still shut and a hand rubbing away sleepiness, the other pair reluctantly blinking in the sunlight.
Many small, little pips across her skin suggested places where piercings had been fitted, waiting to be filled up today. There were dozens of them; on her nose, her eyebrows, on her ears, so many of them that in places she looked like she had tried to tattoo herself with traditional needles but had forgotten to use in. From the bridge of her nose to the entirety of her lips, there wasn’t a single part of her face that wasn’t pierced somewhere.
It was hard to tell on her lips, admittedly. They had swollen enormously, protruding out by half the span of one of her own fingers; they were not distended but puffy, genuinely firm, their surfaces a smooth and darker grey like colored latex, rippling and tasting at the air with their moist contours in an unique form of sensory examination. From below her nose, to past her chin, her massive lips swelled out, her mouth nearly lost within their inviting, puffed depths.
As her mouth opened wider, many monstrous teeth could be seen, and so many of them were completely inhuman, and it was hard to imagine what sort of diet would produce such a mess of teeth; long needles like an anglerfish’s grew in crumpled masses alongside the heavy tearing fangs of some dreadful apex predator. In random rows, other kinds of teeth grew, apparently at complete random. A student of dentistry might have found it fascinating, in a perverse way.
Raven yawned more, and her tongue lolled out. By the point where it had swelled out thicker around than her head and was sliding past her collar bone, it was clear that her tongue was definitely not very human anymore, either. But that was a minor matter as she walked.
Now, Raven had been moving, yes. But she had taken only small steps, essentially shuffling along. This didn’t really make it more approachable that her backside still hadn’t cleared the doorway, and with its wobbling, spherical contours gradually coming into view, it was reasonable to assume that the door had been specifically made to accommodate that enormous butt in the first place.
Raven’s hips, in all their grander, served as a framework of sorts for that butt; sticking out nearly nine feet from her body, the two globes gently swayed with the direction of her hips, the force of her steps sending rippling shockwaves through them so that each sway of her hips put her butt into a state of perpetual, never-ending jiggle. Roughly twenty tons or more of butt wobbled enticingly, even hypnotically, mostly uncovered by a nightshirt that hunt on her like a tent but was unable to fully cover her hips or most of her butt, and as she moved, the only word to probably encapsulate the sight of a massive butt roughly the size of a dump truck’s cab drifting through the air with her advance was awe-inspiring.
Raven paused, glancing back and her multiple eyes rolling back to see if Robin, asleep in a definitely oversized Raven-class bed, was looking her way. He was not, but lay in a canopy of blankets, still sound asleep from the work out her languid but extremely powerful hips had delivered him last night.
She paused, just for a moment. More than the usual pair of hands braced against the doorway, with twice the usual shoulders; Raven had grown an extra pair of arms, smaller and more splindly than her starter set, the skin scaled or perhaps chitinous, and the hands from these were heavily clawed. Her original arms had also developed claws, but not needle-like ones such as those.
They touched upon the wall softly, though, and Raven stared into the room. As she did, her nightshirt twisted around her breasts, which while perhaps not quite as large as her hips in overall mass, were far larger than a normal human. You could have fit a normal human into them, in fact; they were roughly the size of bean bag beds. They were slightly larger around than her torso, extending away from her body by several feet… all two pairs of them. Much like her arms, Raven had grown an extra set of breasts, just as large as her original pair, making a strangely attractive set of bulges against the front of her shirt. It didn’t quite obscure the healthy, distended swell of a big and very well-fed gut that was apparently just big enough to hang over her waist.
Raven leaned slightly to one side, and briefly, her stoicism cracked. She smiled faintly at Robin, who loved her as the whole team did, and still warm with the emotions of love and satisfaction wafting from him, she swaggered off, a hand against her heavy belly.
It grumbled at her touch, and loudly. Raven was hungry these days, always hungry; even when full, her gut constantly grumbled and begged for more food to churn up, and the process of digestion itself was almost unbearably pleasurable for her.
----------
In the kitchen, there was Starfire.
She was floating over the kitchen, cheerfully cooking breakfast for the whole team on a whim. Perhaps she floated in the air to show off, even just to herself. It was more likely, however, that she was doing it to keep herself from bumping against the counters and potentially knock things over. Starfire was a large woman, standing over eight feet tall with ease, and she was heavily built at that.
Her breasts, even bound to avoid inconvenient bouncing, were nearly the size of volleyballs. One arm, picking up a huge and overstuffed tray with one hand, was broader across than the average man, swollen with impressive degrees of muscular development. Her skin appeared to be a dark brown, but her alien physiology absorbed sunlight and turned into to the resource much of her powers drew upon so that her body glowed a faint yellow-orange color, giving the impression that a very curvaceous and humanoid star was standing there.
She wasn’t quite as imposingly massive as Raven, not proportionately anyway, but she was very big all the same. A great cloud of red hair fell past her waist, not quite obscured a butt jutting out by several feet and hips more than two feet across. Amazonian was a good description of her (though not in the sense of her having anything to do with the warrior-sages of Thymiscira, though they tended to have the same build).
By now, Raven had drifted into the room, not so much walking as skulking in with momentum, and had managed to fit her way into a table built specifically for her scale. It was already heavily laden with a massive mound of food geared for her ravenous appetites, and Starfire flew over, adding more to the pile.
Starfire floated at shoulder height, smiling at her and trying to tone down her tendency to be a morning person. “Lover Raven! You are ready for breakfasting?”
Raven nodded gravely. “Of course.” Starfire laid a tray on a specific table, laden with high calorie-meals; sausages, eggs, columns of bacon, fatty and energizing foods ideal for an apex predator.
Raven leaned close, sniffing longingly, building up her appetite. Mm.” she said, and as she did, her jaw grew wider, elongating, and a tongue lolled out. Both grew to sizes impossible for a human; her jaws telescoped a foot apart… and then two feet apart, and wider still. Her tongue seemed to swell, rolling away from masses of mismatched teeth as long as a man’s hand was wide, and the tongue lengthened, extending all the way down to her waist, still expanding out so that by the time it dipped into the nearest bowl of oatmeal, it was wide across as her waist line, tastebuds thickened into micro-spikes that wiggled and tasted the available treats.
Her tongue curled around the bowl and flexed, the incredibly strong and dexterous muscle flipped the bowl up into a mouth wide enough for a human body to slide into. The bowl slapped down, into her gaping maw, and Raven’s lips sealed around it, blind to anything else in her hunger. There was a fearsome sucking sound, like something caught in a suction pump, and a faint bulge in her throat as all the oatmeal was sucked right down. She carefully took out a bowl and set it down; it was spotlessly clean now.
“More,” Raven grumbled, to herself, sitting down and making her mouth even wider, lowering her maw to the repast. Starfire chuckled as Raven lifted a plate of waffles to her mouth with her tongue, gulping it down. After a moment she spat out the plate (already corroded by digestive fluids) and turned her attention to other food, patiently shoving it down her gullet with a complete indifference to manners, her massive quad-breasts pushing against the table.
Starfire left her to it, preparing the rest of the other’s food. Heavy plates of pancakes for Cyborg (whose organic parts required high energy foods, the rest of his nutrition dependant on his mechanical part’s intake), a vegetarian diet for Beast Boy, who had allowed his digestive system to be an obligate herbivore due to his conflicted feelings and instincts, and Robin’s own food had largely been cribbed from diets suited to athletes.
Raven continually picked up dish after dish with her four hands, holding them steady as she devoured them one at a time. She didn’t shovel her food down, though it looked like such; she tasted her food even while it was inside her body, tastebuds growing all the way down her throat and even into her guts, so she had a different concept of savoring. She ate quickly, unwilling to resist the impulse to satisfy her more gluttonous urges. By the time Starfire finished her own and fairly mysterious dishes, Raven had polished off the last of the plates. She was a considerate eater; she picked up all her plates by levitating them into stacks, and stood up with them, the double couches she’d been sitting on creaking as her massive ass rose up into the air. She nodded to Starfire and waddled towards the sink, washing her dishes.
The other titans, over the next half hour or so, gradually wandered into the kitchen, sleepy eyed and mumbling.
Lean, athletic and something of a darling among the hero community, Robin shuffled in and improbably, he was still wearing a domino mask. It was a sleeping mask, at least, so he was learning to adjust for the times.
Around the same time, a small and green fluffy velociraptor hopped into the room. “Sup, guys!” It said brightly, and, like some old-fashioned speculation about evolution, suddenly transformed into the form of a bird and fluttered up, onto one of Raven’s heavy shoulders. It was Beast Boy, their shapeshifting teammate, and he had least had the presence of mind not to pester Raven. She was definitely not a morning person.
Robin said down, yawning heavily and blinking. As he started to eat, Cyborg walked in, whistling amiably to himself; only a few feet shorter than Starfire, his mechanical body big enough to be nearly as wide as her own, he’d designed his own look to be similar to a bodybuilder’s, and today he’d swapped into a modular body that mostly resembled an organic human, if you didn’t pay attention to the seamlines and mechanical joints. While he could have passed for human, he was still mechanical and benefited from a lack of sleepiness as long as he had a full charge. Various glands and hormones had their roles fulfilled by mechanical functions, and still trying to shrug off sleepiness, Raven felt quite envious. “Morning!” He said brightly.
Robin grunted, and Beast Boy (face deep into some kind of oatmeal) made indifferent noises. “Morning, friend!” Starfire said cheerfully, swallowing up a bowl of something steamed and thinly sliced and also bright green, and she raised an enormously well-muscle arm larger across than Robin’s entire body, though it was far short of Raven’s own mass.
Raven waved vaguely at him with one of her free arms. She absently pulled up her slipping panties; the various chains tying the two pieces of lacy cloth together were sinking so deeply into her plush butt, they were starting to fall right off.
They were remarkably all indifferent to one another being nearly nude, and no one was embarrassed about it. They ate in peace, a comforting sense of stability oozing up from around them all. This was a normal morning, and the presence of one another was a contentment.
Raven had been around people who’d been married long enough to settle into a comforting routine, and oblivious to their more embarrassing habits. She was too embarrassed to admit how the easy openness between herself, Starfire, Robin, Cyborg and Beast Boy felt so very similar.
They finished breakfast in peace. The rest of the day felt almost oppressively demanding, so for the moment, they simply enjoyed each other’s company.
--------
Early in the day was always tense. For about an hour or two, they would wait for something to happen, and it tended to set the day’s mood. Villain activity, or more mundane criminal action, generally started then. If more happened, it would be obvious right there.
Two hours passed. The clock ticked past ten in the morning, and nothing of consequence happened. An internal sigh of relief came to them, and it became clear that today would be a peaceful day.
The morning went on, and they gradually drifted towards the living room, changing into more casual clothes.
“Come on-nnn!” Beast Boy whined, randomly morphing from any form with manipulators, trying to keep his control in his grip. His green body shifted from chimpanzee to octopus, to more exotic forms. He squinted with various eyes, wiggling furiously at the competitive fighting game on the TV, his attention span as sharply focused as a raptor that had spotted prey.
Cyborg laughed, his mechanical eye narrowed, various mental processes kicking in as he rapidly conceived of a dozen counters of an instant, and Beast Boy’s attempts to take the match were overturned instantly. “I told you to stick with a main.”
“Hey, we just got this download. I’m not waiting on a new character!” Beast Boy, settling down a bit, shifted into his native form. It was humanoid, at least; that was the most definite thing you could say about him. A baggy T-shirt and grungy pants hung over a body that was in constant, though steady, flux. Skin, fur, scales and feathers flowed across his body, and whether he was lean and muscular or thick-set and huggable seemed to vary by the moment. His mouth was full of sharp teeth and what clicked against his controller were heavy claws, though.
Cyborg sucked in air and let it out in a dismissive snort. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, man.”
From a gigantic couch that was otherwise mostly occupied by the two girls, Robin was watching, in a vague way, but mostly he was talking with Starfire. “I know the Nightwing look is really good and stylish, and I dunno, it feels good to be more nice, but lately I’ve been feeling it for the Red Hood look.” A fairly tall and fit young man with the built of a gymnast, he sat on Starfire’s lap with room to spare. He was dressed in pale blue and black, a jacket blending so seamlessly into skinny jeans that they seemed a one-piece, but he looked indecisive about sticking with that look. He glanced at the screen. “Ooh. Beast Boy, you really need to ease off on the aggressive game play. Cy’s defense game is too good.”
“Don’t be spoiling all my secrets!” Cyborg said indignantly.
Starfire leaned forward, her huge breast setting onto Robin and smothering his entire head with their sheer amplitude. Today’s outfit, a purple affair, a sports bra and runner’s shorts, seemed selected to emphasize her powerful body, and perhaps to emphasize this, Robin’s body was slimmer than either of her thighs, which his body was sinking into. “I recommend aggression! Destroy, Beast Boy! LEAVE NONE STANDING BEFORE YOU!”
“Star,” Cyborg said patiently. “He’s playing as a speedster type; one good hit and he’ll go flying!”
“You can’t prove that!” Beast Boy protested. Cyborg immediately did so, with a sound of another stock being subtracted from Beast Boy. “Doesn’t count!”
Starfire leaned back, releasing Robin’s head from the prison of her boobs; he looked totally unperturbed. “Which outfit shows off more of your body?” She asked him, in a tone as curious as it was lascivious.
“Eh. I’m not sure that’s really my thing-” He squeaked as he leaned forward, hugging him in her strong arms.
“Are you sure?” Starfire whispered into his ear, playfully. She wiggled into one edge of Raven’s butt beside her, rising up like a secondary couch, and it was possibly unintentional. Possibly.
All the same, it would have been hard for her not to. Raven’s massive butt occupied the entire couch, with Starfire sitting upon an outlying region of Raven’s butt, and Raven was mostly ignoring what the others were doing, minding her own business. She spoke into a phone, with some agitation; her two pairs of breasts wobbling indignantly beneath an expansive t-shirt she’d put on. Her belly was visible as an outward swell, though it wasn’t particularly tight; her belly was just big enough to make it a moot point.
Now she leaned forwards, her head close to bumping into the ceiling, horns starting to grow through her hair. “I am not doing you another deal, Constantine!” She said firmly. “You owe me a dozen times over, and I’m calling in that favor now!”
“Come on,” said a sly voice on the other side of the phoneline. “All I need you to do is swallow up this one demon. That’s practically a hobby for you, yeah?”
“No,” She said firmly. “We made a deal, now own up. Did you send it to this place or not?”
“I dunno. My memory’s gotten pretty sloppy lately. Maybe if I didn’t have so much on my mind I might think more clearly…”
“Constantine, I swear. I will find you and I will sit on you.”
There was a pause, as if of someone getting put completely off track and having to think fast. “...That’s a bluff, right?”
“Depends. Do you want to find out how easy it is to… disappear underneath me, first hand?” Raven said, coolly.
There was a pause. Raven’s gigantic, jiggling ass was legendary in superhero circles, and the uses she put it to were even more famous. “...Sit on me in a sexy way, or a crushing way?”
Raven licked her gigantic lips, briefly, her tongue teasing her rubbery pillows at the thought of feeling anyone pinned beneath her very sensitive bottom, no matter who it was. It was no bluff when she murmured, “It’s me. There’s no difference there.”
The other Titans gave her a significant look, contemplating their own experiences with the intimate aspects of her butt, and each of them laughed sarcastically. Raven held her head high, trying to stay dignified.
Constantine said, eventually, perhaps looking something up, “Yeah, it’s there. Take your time, girl, it’ll be in.”
“It’d better be, if you don’t want to be a seat.”
“Hey, don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep.”
Raven hung up and, banishing her phone into the instantly retrieved zones of where things go when you don’t need them anymore, sat up. “I’m gonna head out, guys. I’ve got some…” a vague sense of sexual intent pulsed at her, with her food digesting in her guts. “Business to take care of. Itch or two to scratch. Does anyone want to come with me?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Cyborg said, nodding at her.
“I will go with you!” Starfire said brightly. “I’ve my own errand to take care of. Perhaps I could go with you partway?”
“I’m in!” Beast Boy said cheerfully. “Every heroine needs a plucky sidekick, you know.”
Robin slid off Starfire’s thighs. “You guys can head on out, I should probably get to training before I slack off.”
Starfire frowned. “Lover Robin, you push yourself much too hard!” She gave Raven a look; a single glance can say a lot, and in this case this particular one said we really need to have a talk about him doing all that.
Raven exchanged a look, and this one said I’ll do my best not to break into pieces, but maybe that will get him tired.
Starfire raised an eyebrow. Not like that!
Raven shrugged with all four arms. Sorry. Misread that one.
-------
Raven got dressed thereafter, and with Starfire and Beast Boy in tow, headed out.
Her mere presence could clear out a sidewalk fast; nothing made people wary of being bowled over like the distinctive sound of her sled-sized high heeled boots stomping into the concrete and leaving holes the sizes of fists.
Now, Raven landed, Beast Boy upon one shoulder in the form of a bird, and Starfire flying behind her. Raven moved, heading in the general direction of a local club that tended to her particular desires fairly well, and now she strode down the street.
She dominated it without trying. As Starfire landed beside her, Raven’s leather jacket flapping behind her like a cape, but voluminous as it was, it couldn’t cover up the gradual wobbles of a multi-ton butt with cheeks broader across than the face of a truck, shaken by the impact she made when landing.
Raven cut a dramatic figure; all four of her breasts bound up in shiny bikinis, a pair of micro shorts so small they almost qualified as a thong by some legal definitions; very tall high heel boots mirrored by leather arm-gloves, all worn under a purple leather coat with a hemline down past her knees, a ruff of feathers around the collar, she cut a figure somewhere between ‘mega sex’ and ‘badass punk’.
Now, at this time of day, there were certainly people around, and there was enough of a crowd to satisfy Raven’s growing taste for at least being seen. She was not, on the whole, an exhibitionist, or someone who wanted to be worshiped (or at least not yet), but she did like to feel… appreciated, in a way.
Now, there were plenty of people not frightened off by her advance, turning to see her. They stopped in mid step or sat up from bus stops, turning to stare at her. Raven perceived emotional states as much as a physical one, and they radiated with the vibrant light of awe, and the pressured currents of list as well.
Starfire did her part to indicate Raven as well, patting her on the thigh and making some considerable ripples. Raven walked, and as they did, Starfire gestured forcefully at Raven, as if to remind them that here she was!
Raven tried not to smile; she did have an image to keep. Her face glowed with piercings, each little indent now properly filled up, rings and chains and studs lining her face with a great deal of enthusiasm.
“Is that really necessary?” She managed to say, even so.
“It most assuredly is,” Starfire said primly. Now she was floating up and patting Raven’s upper breast, so it was wobbling just right to catch the eye and make everyone see. “Hello, there!” She said, waving to the crowd.
Raven waved a hand. The dozens of rings on her fingers and her little claw trinkets clattered politely. “Hey.”
There were about two dozen people on the sidewalk today; even with the benefit of knowing she was coming, they were still gobsmacked by her sheer presence. It wasn’t just that Raven had an ass that could destroy trucks with an idle hip-check, nor the intriguing nature of her more inhuman features. She exuded a raw and sensual, bestial charisma that naturally drew people towards her. People didn’t seem aware of their gazes drifting towards her, their eyes magnetically drawn to the swell of her lips, the steely gaze of her multiple eyes, their backs straightening and their thighs loosening as she spoke. Their every thought turning towards her, unable to resist the siren-like draw of her.
They looked up at her, with various feelings. Some looked at the ground, too embarrassed to look directly at her, or Starfire; it didn’t help that Starfire was a hyper-sexual beacon of desirability themselves.
Beast Boy, thus far, went unnoticed, but he liked it that way. All the better to take a drama moment, he liked to say.
As they advanced, and the sheer presence of Raven was something to adjust to, a few people dared to look at her and Starfire. It was more difficult to look away once you did. It was like a planetoid falling into the orbit of a larger object and being sort of confined into that orbit and just going onwards. Some glanced awkwardly to her and back, too embarrassed to simply gaze directly at her but too drawn to her to simply… pretend she wasn’t there.
Raven glanced at them, imperiously, and even this little movement made her two rows of breasts (each one roughly the weight of a small car) quaver, with a very heavy sloshing noise suggesting rich milk; mouths watered at the sound, instinctively drawn to the thought of what it might taste like despite any normal reservations about something like that. It didn’t help that Raven’s idea of a top (and intended to look as sexy as possible at the club) was a sparkling bikini apparently made of latex, one for both sets and connected to each other with a complicated assembly running down her back, attached to piercings placed along her lower back and spine; the bikini tops were connected to coverings placed atop her heavily pierced nipples. Her nipples pressed faintly against the fabric, and the complicated swirls and bars of her nipple piercings pressed harder. Over all that, she wore a translucent black top, highlighting her upper body.
Her high heeled boots shifted. In theory, she could have just flown past these people without trouble.
Starfire glanced up at her expectantly. Some part of Raven loved the adoration, the love of people like this.
Hrm. After a moment, Raven nodded curtly at Starfire.
With a delighted noise, Starfire flew up to the crowd, looming over them even with just a small hover. They focused upon her, and she crooked a finger at them, commanding with the air of someone born to dominate. They obliged, drifting closer, as Beast Boy took flight as a bird, making sure that there weren’t any cars coming or anything like that.
Now Starfire held them still, and gestured at the towering beauty that was Raven. “Just look at her!” She said loudly. “Come now, human friends! I must ask you to be most sincere! Please, tell me; can you really look upon her and not be entranced by her, as I am?”
She said this with such sincerity, such total earnestness, that a lot of the crowd looked ashamed without being entirely clear why. Taking some pity on Starfire’s sense of drama, Raven stepped down with a foot longer than a grown man’s thigh, shod in a massive high heeled boot that could probably serve as a drilling tool with the spikes on it. From the wear and tear on it (essential for punky looks), it already had. The stiletto heels on the back seemed to be actual repurposed blades, blunted to work as heels, and brought her already massive height up to another foot or so.
“Simply behold the splendor of these mighty thighs!” Starfire demanded,and she drew quite a few appreciative looks from people who liked buff women that could crush them. Starfire seemed disinterested in encouraging them to look at her sculpted abs and bubble butt, though, and smacked Raven’s thighs, her hand briefly sinking into flesh so soft and voluminous that Starfire’s arm sank into it, up to the elbow. Raven’s many eyes closed in pleasure and her stance adjusted, and her thighs slapped into a new position to fill all available space immediately around her, for twenty-five feet of soft flesh spilling around the tops of her knee high boots. Black latex rippled up those thighs into her shorts, possibly intended to be daring pantyhose at one point until her thighs had shredded most of it, but it was a good look even so.
“Do please turn around!” Starfire urged.
Raven made a soft, hungry noise in agreement. She turned around, her hips swaying with a see-saw notion restricted to someone with an inhumanly wide pelvis.
Beast Boy flew back over head as Raven finished turning and the crowd let loose a gasp of awe as Raven’s ass faced them properly; it wasn’t quite as gargantuan as her hips and thighs, but it was still a sight seared into their memories and hot-wired straight into new definitions of lust for them; projecting out by nearly nine feet, and twenty-five feet cheek-to-cheek, it bumped against a wall as she turned and crumpled that wall inwards, and finally it wobbled into place as she took a final thunderous step to steady herself, and it took over a minute for the jiggly surface of her mostly exposed butt to slow down.
Not stop; it was too soft, for that.
Beast Boy alighted upon one butt cheek, assuming his human-ish form. He sprawled down, belly against her butt and hips resting firmly upon the wealth of Raven butt beneath him, and there was no cloth to get in the way. Raven’s shorts were incredibly skimpy, looping around the swell of her groin, curved around her butt and presented a bare minimum of legal modesty, and that was the best it could do. Her hips and butt warped and transformed all clothing it encountered, so that this kind of outfit was simply inevitable.
As it was, Raven’s butt had a lot of jiggle to go around, her shorts a thin band around the middle that pushed up both high slopes and lower regions of butt, and the resulting tension gave her a continuous jiggle.
Beast Boy exacerbated it. Sinking deep into her ass, he shifted through a wild variety of incredibly heavy forms and then very small ones, the force impacting her butts tendency to absorb and instantly squish with any kinetic force, for a truly exaggerated jiggle.
Raven’s butt simply had so much volume that there appeared to be a limitless amount of squishy butt to go around, and the jelly-like swings were… hypnotizing, the people around them found. Even the most modest or stern were unable to stop from glancing and now, they couldn’t look away. Plenty of them had a strong urge to approach… maybe sinke their hands into it, just once...
It wasn’t enough for Starfire, though. She shook her head despairingly, and briefly she clasped her hands together, as if meditating at the folly of her friend being slowly to truly learn the ways of showing off Raven’s volume. “Friends! You do well, I assure you, but…” she hovered closer, until her toned abs bumped right into Raven’s jiggling ass and actually pushed it back. Her muscular body didn’t so much as flinch as roughly 20 metric tons of butt rested upon her, and her strong arms raised out. “Lovely people of our city!”
Starfire’s hair shimmered like flame, and her eyes glowed a vibrant green as her emotion-based powers responded to the fierce joy and desire throbbing in her from her thoughts to her hips. She seized hold of Raven’s butt, her hands edging against the swells of two massive cheeks far larger than she was, and she concentrated power, a lambent light shining from her skin like a banked flame.
She glowed.
It was like a sun appearing right in the middle of the street; light, or even a liquid green fire, shone through the orange light of her skin and Starfire’s already massive muscles swelled up even bigger, her shoulders either hunching or growing so disproportionately big relative to her body that it had the same impression.
Starfire lifted upwards. Raven’s enormous posterior shelf rose up, and up, growing distinct from her thighs; the latex film around it grew more thin, translucent and stretched as it rose upwards over Starfire’s head, and an enquiring mind might have noticed that a lot of the holes in the latex were just the right size for Starfire’s hands. Those same hands sank in as the weight of Raven’s butt overwhelmed her lifting strength, flowing down and over her arms, soft butt-fat encasing her forearms, going past her elbows and continuing onwards, until the bulk of Raven’s butt was nearly back to its original position.
Starfire sank her hands in, deeply, working her shoulders and greater strength, and Raven made soft, gasping noises as she did, the enormous sensitivity of her butt only exacerbated by its open exposure to the air, and oh, Starfire’s hot hands, the dexterity of her fingers, the power flowing against her own soft and yielding flesh…
Starfire floated up, lifting more of Raven’s butt into the air, so much that Beast Boy disappeared from sight, pressed between Raven’s broad back and the rising mass of the imposing backside. And feeling them wriggle against her, almost fully pulled into her butt, contrasted by the heat of Starfire’s expert ministrations, Raven nearly moaned out loud, her iron self-control severely strained in the moment.
Her shoulders leaned back, all two pairs; her broader and original pair, her thick arms twitching towards her groin with sexual intent, before she stopped herself. And a lower pair of arms, slimmer and the hooked claws demonic in nature, so overwhelmed with lust they had to feel something, anything at all. Fortunately there were her massive breasts, all four of them. Normally she might have had to sink her hands underneath a shirt or other tops for the pleasure of it, but today she wore no shirt at all, only a translucent black cloth over her torso.
The monstrous claws of her lower arms squeezed her breasts, sinking into the wrist; her nipples moved in a way more like mouths, puffing up so much they made an indent against the fabric, and something liquid dripped against her bikinis. It was absorbed, but still, the crowd saw her. And that fact got Raven even more excited.
And Starfire, sensing her moment, let the twenty tons of butt drop. It was a slow and ponderous fall, like the descent of mountains, and there were already ripples spreading out as it went down, the eyes of the crowd glued to it, Beast Boy’s weight pressing deep on it as well, and then Starfire made her final move.
Before the ripples had even finished spreading and the full impact extended to Raven’s equally jiggly thighs, Starfire gave Raven’s butt incredibly massive double smacks, both hands rising up, and up-
And then crashing down with a thunderous clap that broke several nearby windows.
With the power of Starfire’s strength behind it, that massive butt soared up, now rippling in dozens of different directions at once, the impression of hands clearly visible, and struck together, with all the force of both Raven’s normal weighty wobbling and the force imparted by Starfire.
There was another clap, and this one was far louder as the cheeks met, Raven’s yell distinctly orgasmic. And the impact was seen from over a mile away.
When the shockwave died away, the sidewalks lay in a ruin of concrete and impact waves mashed in. The street was smashed up and in dire need of repair (which Raven went to fix, waving a hand shakily); the crowd was laying at Raven’s boots, adoration in their eyes and their mouths open, pleadingly. Starfire floated proudly behind them, hands behind her back and she beamed proudly. Beast Boy remained shaken somewhere upon her backside, and really, that was the best you could say for them now.
“That,” Starfire said smugly as Raven indulged the crowd by allowing them to grope her as she passed, too lustful to resist the opportunity. “Is how you show her body the love it requires!”
--------
Raven continued on her way, the need more pressing than ever before thanks to Starfire’s loving ministrations, and unfortunately Starfire herself had apologized but already left by now, her own errands calling her away.
Raven had waved her off, and continued on her way. She counted herself lucky that’d she had been planning on this to begin with.
Now, she, still accompanied by Beast Boy, floated down on her own towards a nightclub, the other Titans apparently gone, a thrill of pleasure still burning hot in her hand demanding it be stoked further. The meeting she’d arranged earlier did beckon, but at the moment, Raven had some other needs that needed to be satisfied.
The night club was a suitably spooky-looking one, ironically modeled to resemble a religious building of sorts; various neon signs indicated that it was a place of worshiping the body, and she was probably a regular here, given a Raven-sized doorway.
As they approached a small green bird alighted on her shoulder; Beast Boy squawked once, getting his vocal cords in order, and he was disinclined to leave at this point. “Why come here? Don’t suppose this is a meet up place for that thing you need?”
“Not really. This is a… physical need thing.”
“A what now?”
Raven gave him a look. “Please do not make me be specific. You know it’s awkward talking about that.”
A brief pause. “Oh. Oh! I get ya.” He looked a bit concerned, as much as it was possible to tell with a bird. “Should I go?”
“Actually. Wouldn’t mind your… help, if you know what I mean.”
“...Welp, guess I’m a helper, then!” Beast Boy said, nodding firmly.
Lust coursed in Raven’s body, overpowering even her usual ravenous hunger. She was always greedy for sex and pleasures now, but this went beyond her usual preference for having someone raw her while she read a book or watched some TV; now her thoughts blurred, raced together, and instinct demanded that she be pleasured, as urgently as possible.
Now Beast Boy transformed. His feathers transmuted into scales, his legs disappearing and beak lengthening. He was a bird but he became a small snake, and slithered across her shoulder (she shivered with pleasure at the touch of cool scales), and into her cleavage, safe from people complaining about his presence.
Getting through the door was a tricky business; yes, it was built for her height, but that was only one particular barrier. A bigger issue with the sheer width of her body, or specific parts of it. Wiggling her shoulders brought her upper body through it, with a heavy pinch as her breasts overflowed the door and flopped out the other way… twice, given her multiple rows.
Her gut pinched hard as she came through, and with one heavy step on the other side, Raven felt very keenly aware that she was making a bit of a fool of herself; her breasts were hanging out, her gut was stuck, and she was bent halfway over just to fit. She didn’t look about ready to fall over herself, but the possibility was presenting itself.
She wiggled hard, gently pushing her belly through, and then, she was almost through-
Her hips caught in the door. It was a tall door. It wasn’t a wide door. Raven sighed in frustration. She hadn’t been growing that fast… she assumed.
“Need some help?” Beast Boy asked in her cleavage.
“No! I can do this, I can do it.” Raven pushed her hip in, grunting as her flesh was pinched and compressed, the pressure surprisingly pleasurable to feel. It was like warmth, spreading up her butt and sinking in, and damn but it felt good.
Her thigh pushed. Gradually, one hip came through. Her other foot awkwardly swung in, the other butt cheek filled up the doorway as well, and Raven huffed and puffed and forced herself to advance through. Eventually, she finally managed to get through.
At this point, she became aware that the attention of the entire club was upon her.
Well, she thought laconically. Won’t be hard to get people realizing I’m here, at least.
The inside of the nightclub didn’t much bother with any pretense at the exterior religious vibes; there was a small bar, and an extensive dance floor; above it there was a shadowed area filled with cushioned floors for someone seeking the same kind of furtive intimacy that Raven herself was after.
She moved inwards. A few people turned to say something as they felt her presence. Their mouths were already open as they went silent, eyes wide as they took in her sheer size. Nothing quite silenced any intruding thought like thighs massive enough to fill a truck bed, and the shifting wobble of her muscles working somewhere in there exerted a powerfully erotic effect mingled with awe that shut them down at once.
Raven glanced at them as she advanced, judging them one by one. Figuring out who would be a fine partner for here and now.
She dismissed those who simply gaped at her out of hand. Normally, she might be pleased to dominate someone, and find some pleasure in absolutely consuming their entire experience, but right now she needed someone willing to be more aggressive, or at least responsive. She liked a little assertiveness, to be clear.
People around her froze, both on the dance floor, seated at the bar, and on the second-story areas that were about level with her waist had people looking up from resting couches and pausing from swooning dramatically to swoon for real at the sight of her swaying hips overwhelm them. People behind her studied her massive butt drifting by like a pair of omen moons, and filed the thought away for sudden poetic inspiration.
She totally dominated attention, and every person in that nightclub knew her as a regular enough to have the sight scored into memory, and they still were unprepared for her, freezing up and gazing at her. She was too big, too awe-inspiring, and they were caught in her orbit.
Her four eyes caught sight of someone on the floor; a handsome young man with a build similar to Robin’s, but a bit broader in the shoulders. He was slowly approaching her, like a tiny male spider scoping out what could be either a mate or predator, and that alone set him apart from the rest. He slowed as Raven turned towards him, and the wobble of her butt and the heft of her breasts presented a sense of weight that gave a nice dramatic touch to the way she suddenly stopped, staring right at him.
She studied him, her magical senses dispassionately zooming straight through the illusion of separation and right into his brain. Someone could say that ‘they seemed nice’ but Raven could actually note it for real. She examined him fast, looking for the kinds of traits she liked best; she liked her boys sweet, she liked them to be a little sarcastic, and she liked them to be daring.
He’d approached her on his own; that was certainly daring. Even a cursory examination of his mind suggested a gentle and good natured disposition he had worked hard at; kindness had a distinctive characteristic that she found difficult to put into words (the sensory details of the astral perception not translating so well to words meant to describe things informed by physical senses alone), but if she had to, might involve comparisons to fertile fields or comforting dark caves. This man had both characteristics.
Raven turned a boot towards him, cutting off any retreat. He glanced at it, and then the shadow of her bouncing breast shelves eclipsed him. “You,” Raven’s voice said, leaning over so that her breasts touched the ground, forming a valley in front of him he could have fit into.
“Y-yes?” He said, meekly.
“Come with me, will you?” She gave the words a very specific kind of inflection, so that none would doubt her carnal intent.
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!”
She leaned down with sudden violence, her hand plunging through the bulk of her breasts and plump belly, and her hand was around him. Her fingers gripped, and he squeaked as he soared up to her face. He was faced with rubbery purple lips, big as mattresses to him and heavily encrusted with so many piercings it was hard to see much flesh.
Beast Boy whistled in Raven’s cleavage, imagining that the guy was going to have one hell of a story to tell later. Together they all floated upwards, to a part of the second floor that Raven had reshaped to cope with her height, weight and definitely her physical strength after some… incidents in the past.
This upper balcony fluttered with gauzy curtains and black fabrics around what could be considered a number of stalls, though the management didn’t actually like that term; they felt it was insufficiently romantic for the image they wanted to give off; at the very least, little chimes were strung across the ceiling in rose-shaped black casings that did give a soft air, and with special noise canceling materials in this part of the club, the music downstairs didn’t spoil the mood too much. It was just audible to give a pleasant, arousing ambience.
The largest stall was designed specifically for Raven. She came down to this club at least once a day, enticing as many people as she could fit into her schedule (or herself) up here. Lust boiled in her almost constantly, and it was pretty likely she’d do nothing but breed constantly if she didn’t have other matters to attend to.
This, at least, took the edge off. It didn’t satisfy her or make the wanting fade, but it at least calmed down the panty-soaking need to get absolutely filled from any given orifice, or her body stuffed with seed, or expert hands sliding the need from her one touch at a time.
It wasn’t satisfying, no. But it was close enough.
Raven passed through the curtains of her private stall, and landed on a floor piled with thick cushions and heavy pillows that served well as mattresses. They were kept clean by automatic processes and tiny little cleaner robots modeled to look like appropriately gothic bats to get any lingering fluids off it. Raven knew it was clean, and various senses available only to her perceived that they were as clean as art exhibits, but even so, she reflexively cast a cleaning spell, just in case.
Her impromptu partner, having picked up on her mood and was awkwardly unzipping his pants, shivered faintly as a black fluid materialized around Raven. He squeaked as it rose up to about his hip level and passed through him, and for a moment it was like being plunged into a freezing-cold pool of water. “What is that!?” He watched it anxiously as it crawled up the walls and to the ceiling, bubbling faintly for a few moments.
“It’s cleaning the surfaces,” Raven said, trying hard to keep herself in check and not simply pounce on him and cover him in kisses. “It’s- ah!” Her breasts rippled with intolerable sensitivity as Beast Boy, still in a snake shape, coiled around one breast just tight enough to almost squeeze it and her supply of fiendish milk within, and the sensation was a delightful torment. She glared at him as he curled over her shoulder, made a hissing snicker, and descended past her shoulder, down towards her butt.
She felt hotter and more needful as he descended down her back. At least he knew what his job here was. She needed lots of loving to feel calm. With a grunt, Raven briefly tried to reach behind herself to undo her tops. The man beneath her eclipsed by her gigantic breasts, she tried to get at the buckle looping them all together, but normal human joints didn’t bend that far.
She didn’t have normal human joints, though. They flexed and clicked, and then her elbows pivoted her arms to a degree such that they could reach behind her… until she patted more of her sides, and realized she was too big to simply reach behind herself like that. She telekinetically took hold of the buckle and tried to untie it, but she pulled at it, the fabric of her tops rubbed against increasingly puffy nipples that strongly resembled lips kissing at her tops and it felt so horrendously, so deliciously good.
She shuddered as she realized the man below her had dropped his pants and undershorts, freeing his dick from the confines of tight leather pants; now she crouched low. A thick musk that registered to the human mind as spicy flooded the room; her thighs were so enormously wide that even as she sat down and her butt filled up the cushions, they were still touching each other, and filling up the walls out from her sides. The substitute beds were completely unnecessary.
By this point, Beast Boy was sliding atop her butt, dutifully removing his clothing (and it has to be said that there wasn’t much of that where he was concerned, these days). Raven shivered as she felt him transforming a bit to suit her requirements, an obscenely big and thick ridged dick sliding against the part of her butt exposed by her shorts. She gazed down; she couldn’t see anything from her body to the wall except her cleavage, but she sensed him down there, staring up as her cameltoe grew bigger, swelling to bulging extremes against her pants. At this point, his head could have fit into it without her having to disrobe at all.
“Take my shorts off,” Raven managed, her tone not so much commanding as apparently stating that her will would be done. The club-goer, with a respectable sense of presence for someone overwhelmed by Raven like that, reached for a zipper about as big across as his arm and pulled. There was a glimpse of decorative, lacy garments. At one point they had been an ordinary pair of panties, but Raven’s massive hips had stretched them out to the point that it was honestly amazing they hadn’t shredded.
This, too, he pulled down, and pillowy flesh jutted out, massing around as much as his whole torso. It wasn’t quite like a human vagina, exactly (and he had some experience in this matter); it was far puffier and bulging out more than some penises did, contributing to the swell of her shorts even in her cooler moments, and the inner flesh was a vibrant shade of red, glowing faintly with a purple light. Small tendrils, about as thick across as a man’s fingers, wiggled around and extended out as if to receive him, slick with various lubricating fluids where they had been pleasuring her from within.
He thought it was big enough for his whole body to fit into; his own penis alone wouldn’t be enough for her! “Am I… really enough for you?” He asked, his bravado starting to fade.
“Yes,” Raven said, and even in her lust-addled state, she spoke in a surprisingly comforting tone. “I know how to work regular humans like you.”
He had a moment to contemplate how she said that as if she didn’t really consider herself human any more (and it was hard to blame her) and then one of her lower arm pairs descended onto his shoulder, pushing him forwards with an inviting yet firm prod.
Around this time, Beast Boy had fully settled into place, sliding into her shorts from behind, fully naked and ready to do his job. His penis continued to slide between Raven’s ass cheeks, fluid oozing from him. It wasn’t pre-cum, exactly. He had simply piled a large number of animal attributes to morph it into a suitable tool for her; entering her was a dick larger than Beast Boy himself, both heavily ridged and now a prehensile, wiggling member, oozing a faint aphrodisiac substance for instant lubrication and extreme arousal.
The club-goer made a soft, murmuring sound as Raven pushed him, hip first, into herself. The size difference was enough that it wasn’t just his penis that sank into her trembling flesh but his entire lower body; he gasped and panted as alien sensations swelled over him, any objection to the fundamental strangeness of the moment silenced as her body squeezed around him. It was gentle, though the sheer strength of her labial wall was likely enough to crush him into a cube.
All that weight and power, pressing down on him, was an arousing force all its own. His breath caught as Raven’s hips swayed, her body hungrily pulling his legs in and down her tunnel they went, squeezing tight, and gaping wider, and then squeezing again.
Soft tendrils curled around him, cocooning his body in gentle, playful little curls. Her inner walls tightened around his dick, pressure mounting around him in a delightful friction. Strange as it was, it felt… good.
Raven, herself, wasn’t even really feeling anything as yet, apart from the comforting pleasure of feeling someone inside her like that. The need rose, the numbing obsession to breed and to breed now, but it was coupled with a more literal hunger. She’d gathered snacks, earlier, and now she tossed them down her throat. It was pleasurable to feel them sliding down her throat, and something kicked in as they hit her belly. The first stages of digestion ensued, the snacks beginning to melt now, and-
Oh THERE WE GO.
The thought was brief, and fast, and coupled with an electric shock; for Raven, food and desire were linked, lust mingled permanently with satisfying her need to eat. Consuming made her horny, and being horny made her hungry. One went with the other, and it was the right moment to get herself revved up nice and properly.
She didn’t gasp or moan; she growled, the inhuman noise almost drowning out the sound around all three of them, the weight of the club-goer an urgent necessity to fill as much of herself with as possible, and in that moment, there was no thought at all. Just the simple desires of a beast, or perhaps a demon, that needed to feed, one way or another.
She brought her thighs as close together as she could. Her club-goer rose up on a sea of thigh flesh as soft and chunky as a whole sea of mattresses, and she thrust out. He slid back, into her, and the motion became self sustaining, her vaginal tendrils pulling him back and forth, and he rocked inside her, pulsing at her most tender and sensitive areas.
Their momentum built up into a true tempo, her body dictating its beat, and Beast Boy chose his moment, sliding his transformed dick straight and true, right into her ass. Raven gasped, a new pulse of pleasure rising from there. He sank deeper, sliding back and forth on the lubrication oozing from him, doing his best to keep quiet at such closeness to her body.
Raven had long since ceased to eliminate in any way; her body had either dissolved those systems for waste entirely, or converted them into more recreational purposes. Raven’s ass and the associated systems were an entrance now, every bit as sexually focused as her vagina or throat might be. Rings and rings of wiggling little muscular bits tried to clamp down on Beast Boy’s dick as he swung in, and an absence gnawed at her when he cheekily withdrew before she could force him deeper.
And so, the dance between them began. Raven was both participant and the dance floor; one man halfway inside her and between her thighs, his shoulders making tingling pressure against her legs and his own body filling up her tunnel just as she liked best. Beast Boy behind her, sinking deep into her ass and lost in the pleasures of being engulfed in that massive backside, having sex with Raven from behind and he knew exactly what to do to get her most excited.
Her food melted inside her, and a steady pulse of pleasant fullness kept rising, from between her legs and inside her, from in her ass to the whole of her hyper-erogenous backside.
She rolled her head back, all her eyes closing, her body thrusting and twisting almost randomly, caught between the tides of pleasure from both the men bent on coming as close as they could to truly satisfying her. Her breasts rose and fell with thunderous impacts, arousing her further as her milk roiled noisily in her. Her vagina slurped and pulled hungrily at the club-goer, who was now too lost in lustful joy to notice he was sinking deeper into her.
Yes! Thought a faint, quiet little remnant of active thought in Raven. She wanted to be filled, wanted all of him inside her, even if that meant pulling him straight into her womb. She was too into it to reconsider it, as she normally might have.
He didn’t notice aven as his torso sank completely into her, erotic dominance completely swamping out all awareness that wasn’t feeling as much of her as possible. His hips jerked and pumped in their vaginal confinement, and when he came, it was the biggest one he’d ever had in his life. It splashed against her inner walls, and somehow her body absorbed it instantly.
She felt it, and part of her reveled in delight, and yet still she kept pumping him, using his whole body as a sort of sex toy. He didn’t protest, now so winded that he was close to collapse, and kept sinking inwards.
Beast Boy was rising high on a surf of pleasure, and to fit the metaphor, he crested as high as he could go. Raven felt the delicious heaviness inside her pumping harder and harder, and then suddenly go all at once, and it was like a firehose going off inside her, and she squeaked as many metric liters of chimeric cum filled her up all in a single shot that would have made her visible swell up, even if just a little. As it was, she straightened up, more clarity returning to her.
It was enough pleasure to scrap the edges off the constant, primordial need. More of his cum was sucked into her body, absorbed and perhaps stored in some way, and with it, Raven came back to her senses. She shook her head, hair flapping and sweat starting to drip down her thighs.
Beast Boy slouched back into her shorts, his penis still quite hard and embedded in her, and the weight of him felt very good. She murmured contentedly to herself as the lust faded into something more controllable, and became aware of a delightful sensation between her legs; a sense of completed fullness that she wasn’t too familiar with.
She became aware that a human form slowly disappeared inside her; only his head, lolled back in blissful obliviousness, remained on her plump lower lips, and even that was starting to slip inside.
She was briefly sorely tempted to let him get pulled all the way in, and for a moment, she had a wild thought of what would happen if he went all the way inside her, and it was a painful struggle to ignore the temptation. She flexed herself the other way, and out he slid in a puddle of various Raven fluids, some tendrils still desperately trying to hold onto his body.
He stirred, weakly and perhaps with disappointment.
Raven awkwardly stood up. “Hey,” she said, jolting her hips up so that Beast Boy was smacked about by her tides of butt-flesh, rousing him back into wakefulness. He shook himself, and reformed his penis into something more typical of his usual preferences. She had to work very hard to stifle the longing groan at the resulting emptiness; having so much solid, veiny, erotic mass in her felt so right.
She cast a spell, and again the black liquid from her earlier cleaning spell washed over the room, and now them with some care. Any remaining sexual fluids were removed, and when it disappeared again, the room was as spotless as it had been before they’d arrived. And as a bonus, she had also put all their clothes back on, pulling them up and zipping them up as if they’d never been unclothed to begin with.
The now fully dressed club goer groaned, blinking up at Raven. Her expression was much calmer, and surprisingly serene. “...I do good?” he managed, weakly.
Raven nodded majestically down at him, as best as she could tell with her boobs in the way. “Yeah. You did good.” She telekinetically picked him up, bringing him in range to her face. For a moment she just stared at him, her massive purple lips glistening faintly, and then she laid a kiss that covered the entire front of his body.
When Raven left, a few minutes later, the lucky club-goer was far too dazed to actually get up, but he didn’t seem to mind much.
Beast Boy was still inside Raven’s shorts, but as small as he could make himself, it wasn’t about to elicit comments when the hard part was noticing him on (or inside) that butt at all.
-------
After a brisk walk and a stop at a little diner to get some food for Beast Boy (who really needed some energy right away), they found themselves at the appointed place: a local library, and Raven paused to admire the architecture.
“Real libraries should look like this,” she said firmly, gesturing at it. Jump City wasn’t a very old city, and technically was the result of several cities growing increasingly bigger until they accidentally merged into a single larger city, but this library looked old. It was clearly modeled after the school of thought that taught the notion that libraries ought to loom over a neighborhood like an authoritative mother figure: welcoming, inviting to all, with just a hint to not get any ideas for funny business. It would have looked at home whether in the background of a romance movie or in the pages of a fantasy novel.
“Was there always a library here?” Beast Boy said, doubtfully, and in the form of a parrot atop Raven’s shoulder. “I could swear there used to be… I dunno. A parking lot here or something.”
He and Raven stared doubtfully at the building. It didn’t appear to have any reaction but in their experience, that didn’t mean the building didn’t harbor any thoughts of its own.
“...I don’t remember ever seeing this library,” Raven said. “And we’ve both lived here for years and years.” She summoned her phone in a burst of black mist, and dialed up her contact. “Did you send us to a mysterious traveling library!?”
Constantine’s voice came back, eventually. “Can you hold on a minute?!”
“I’ve told you, tell me the details! I don’t want to get stranded in another sub-plane because it decided to travel while I was there!”
On the phone, there was another voice. It was a deific voice like the crashing of waves and foaming surf, and it was a surprisingly familiar one. “Hey, man, you on the phone with Rae?”
“Yes…” Constantine said, sounding like he wanted to pinch his temples in frustration.
“You tell her to tell Beast Boy we still need to do that photo shoot of a shark man riding on a shark! Imagine the motivational posters!”
Constantine sighed. “Yeah, sure.” To Raven, he said, “You heard him, yeah?”
Raven said, eventually, “Are you dating King Shark again?”
“Hey, that better not be a speciesist remark.”
“You’ve seen the people I live with; I’m not judging him, I just think he’s way out of your league.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Constantine conceded. “But yeah, the library gets… active, but it won’t leave until at least this coming winter. It hates the cold around those coastal regions.”
“It has preferences?! It’s alive?”
“No! It’s like… it’s complicated…”
“It’s like a thinking-dude version of Danny the Street,” Beast Boy said, having listened to the whole thing.
“Oh,” Raven said. “The genderqueer, teleporting neighborhood.” The Street in question was actually an old friend of Beast Boy’s adoptive family in the Doom Patrol. She calmed down. Danny was an amiable sort, and if Beast Boy thought there was a comparison, that was better than she thought.
“Yeah,” Constantine said. “Like the Street. I think they know each other, actually.” Raven calmed down. Danny was an amiable sort, and if there was a comparison, it was a safe building.
“Fine,” she said. “Talk to you later.”
“God, I hope not,” Constantine said, without rancor. He hung up.
Raven, Beast Boy still on her shoulder, went not up to the library’s doors itself, but to a hidden entrance that was marked by a series of revolving little pedestals, marked with an image.
Puzzle entryways into secret magical chambers was a time-honored tradition among the magically inclined, and the proper thing to do would be to give Raven a mysterious clue; Constantine had little patience for that, and had just given Raven the solution straight up.
She slid the rotating image puzzles into place, so that they formed a whole new image that resembled a doorway. As she did, Raven sensed disapproval emanating from around her, and it made her imagine someone quite put out at fun being spoiled. When the wall opened up, and a pair of stairs leading down into a space that didn’t seem spatially apt for the surrounding area, Raven imagined someone crossing their arms and making a loud ‘HMPH!’ sound.
She descended down the stairs. Perhaps they were of a mystical ‘one size fits all variety’, or maybe they transformed to fit her stride. Either way her high heel boots clicked down on her route downwards. She eventually came to a large space that was a bit distressing to look at.
It just went… on and on. It continued indefinitely, shelves lining the walls, and more shelves upon them. In blatant defiance of gravity, the shelves followed the curve of the ceiling, curling upwards until there were shelves on the ceiling, their contents somehow in place.
At least, she assumed they were shelves; the ceiling continued so far up that it had to be higher up than the actual library’s roof. Clearly this was one of those ‘flexible space’ kind of magical places, or even a mystic realm onto itself.
The whole thing was unsettling to look at, but it didn’t seem particularly menacing. In the center of the whole thing was a humanoid figure at a bench, apparently measuring a container of liquid. As she approached, Raven took notice of the shelves. It felt like a warehouse rather than a traditional magic shop; the various books, potions, amulets, swords and contained micro-planes were at least clearly labeled, though in no language or system she’d ever seen. That was one way to avoid theft, she supposed; they couldn’t steal if they had no idea what they were actually taking.
She came to the bench, and paused. She blinked. “Zatanna?”
There was a curvy young woman standing there, perhaps a few years older than Raven. Her black hair was long, her hips were wide and her breasts bigger than most people’s heads, and for a superheroine who mainly worked off a stage magician vibe, the sleek robes that were apparently the local uniform worn quite well. “Oh, hey Raven. Constantine gave me a call you’d be coming.”
“Yeah.” Raven gave her a sidelong look. “He didn’t tell me to expect you.”
“He probably didn’t think it was important. Or he was trying to get one over on you, I guess.” She waved, noticing Beast Boy. “Hey, dude!”
Beast Boy fluttered a wing. “Sup?” He said, trying to hide how much the strange dimensions of this place bothered him.
Raven politely leaned back, trying to keep her massive boobs off the counter. Her butt loomed up behind her as she leaned in. “Did he tell you why I was coming down?”
“Yep. It’s all paid for.” Zatanna got up and departed past a shelf. She came back a few minutes later, from a shelf at the opposite part of the room.
Beast Boy groaned. “Ugh, i hate places that do that…”
“Just close your eyes and try to think of bouncy houses,” Raven suggested. “You’ll be fine.” He grumbled and buried his birdy head into her hair.
Zatanna presented a small brass globe to Raven. “Here you go! A genuine free-standing portal to the abstract plane of food!”
Raven took it. It was small enough to fit neatly between her fingers, and she squinted into its shining depths. She could just barely make out a faint scent of things cooking, smells mixing and interweaving into a heavy aroma that made her mouth water, and she could see the hints of a portal within the surface, and through it, the barely visible hints of tasty treats and cooked meals, free standing a realm of nothing but food.
There was a mystical reasoning: everything that COULD exist, HAD to exist somewhere. Every metaphorical concept had to be real, somewhere. So if you could put a name to something, there had to be a mystical realm out there for it somewhere. This included things like the concept of food; candies, meats, oatmeals, cereals, soups, stews, whole roast animals… in whatever form that food existed, there had to be a realm made up of food itself.
And here was a portal to such a place. Raven cast a spell, harmonizing the energies of the artifact with herself, so that her body would recognize it as a part of her, immunizing it to digestion and the like.
Zatanna studied. “Not sure I recognize that one…”
Beast Boy waved a wing, focusing on Raven. “Just wait a sec!”
Raven finished her spell, tried to work out if she missed a loophole, and then seemed satisfied.
Then she popped the priceless tiny portal right into her mouth like a candy, and swallowed it.
Zatanna stood up, her eyes wide. “What the actual hell, Raven! You can’t just eat-”
Raven waved a hand, her jewelry clanking. She raised an eyebrow, various piercings clicking together. “Calm down. The artifact is fine.” She waited until she felt it slide into her gut, coming to rest against various meaty furrows, and then she put her hand over her heavy gut, her fingers weaving into the particular portal-opening spell for this artifact.
Inside her stomach, the portal expanded wide open, and at once, a massive stack of pancakes splashed out into her body.
Raven shivered, pleasure sliding through her as neatly as water flowing down ravines. “Oooh~”
Slabs of bacon rolled down into her gut. Rivulets of syrup, bundles of roast chicken, trails of crunchy things she couldn’t quite identify, and more tasty treats fell out of the portal inside her belly, a slow and steady progression sinking into the pit of her belly, her potent digestion getting to work to them at once, puffing them up as they absorbed her digestive juices.
More came on, pushing the first servings down, enough of it to make her gut start visibly distending from the outside, her belly pressing over her waistline.
Raven’s belly gurgled in satisfaction, and the noise was nearly drowned out by Raven herself sighing in relief, the eternal torturous hunger gently fading away just enough for her to really feel like she didn’t have to devour everything in sight. Zatanna still gave her a side-eyed look of annoyance.
“The portal thing is fine!” Beast Boy insisted. “...I think.”
“I made my digestion treat it as a part of my own body,” Raven said, her voice sighing. “It’s totally immune to even my acids.”
Zatanna gave her a stern look, haltered a bit by her gaze constantly drifting to various other sections of Raven. She turned away, conceding the point. “Well, okay, but next time, warn me before you eat a priceless magical relic!”
Raven gave her a look. “And what would you have done if I’d told you I was going to eat it?”
“...Question the life choices that made you decide that should be your first option?”
“Speaking of life choices; what are you doing working in a possibly sapient magical library’s artifact dealing section?”
Zatanna had to pause. “Hey, it might be a weird spooky library that travels through space and time, but it pays well.”
Commission of my Hermione, my Raven, and Ly from Rayman; while Ly instructed Raven in magic, Raven accidentally teleported them both into Hermione’s belly! Ly’s not too happy about it, for sure!
She has multiple eyes, though the exact number and arrangement changes depending on her mood, the degree to which she is tapping into her powers and thus amplifying her mutations and mods, and the chaotic tides of magic within her. Raven’s fiend/human hybrid nature makes her a strange situation enough, but as a daughter of Magnus the Red, she’s prone to a lot of more weirdness; you know that thing where the Thousand Sons have prone to debilitating rates of mutation? Something similar applies. Even at her calmest, Raven’s body fluxes and reshapes a lot.
Usually she has at least four, arranged in two horizontal rows, with the upper pair being slightly smaller. She can grow more, usually them forming at a sort of angle around her other eyes; imagine an invisible spiral on her face, and these eyes being points on that spiral, and you get the basic visual. They are usually jet black, with no visible pupils or iris; just solid pools of black.
At times of high mutation, her eyes can warp; blending into one another, some eye sets merging into a larger one, or additional eyes appearing on other parts of her body. This is especcially common with any wings she might grow, and the impression is angelic, which considering that her heritage is divine due to Magnus’ nature, has... interesting implications.
💀🥔❤️🗯️💛📚 - Power Girl, Wonder Woman, Tionishia, Centorea, Ranamon, Blue Diamond and Ahsoka Tano. (A bit of a long one, but i hope it works.)
omg that is a LOT tho
Power Girl: am leaning towards ‘rarely’. depends on how villainous they are; if not villain, then probably not. if villain, at least temporarily digestion? if they’re energy-based though, she may do so automatically regardless of whether or not she wants to, due to her powers
Wonder Woman: she follows mythic hero rules, so she does so in the same circumstances of slaying a monster, but she’s not casual about it
tionishia: depends on their threat level and how hungry she is. going with the idea that ogres are prone to extreme overindulgence, she might do so if they taste good or make her feel super FULL
centorea: more likely than not, yes, especially if they are plant-based; it mixes with horse and human cravings a lot, and she regards it as part of the whole point of swallowing someone.
Ranamon: Rarely; its very contextual. she may be called to do it for her duties or removing things that need to be hidden, like consuming forbidden lore.
Blue Diamond: I like to think that she used to be a ferocious and merciless devourer, adn while she’s TRYING to be a better person, the compulsion to simply swallow whole and digest anything offending her on a whim.
Ahsoka: I figure that while the Jedi Code permits this sort of thing (since they don’t have any particular restrictions against necessary killing), overindulgence is frowned upon. This Ahsoka may or may not abide by the Code, but it still influences her, so she tries to restrain herself.
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Does your muse prefer lazy, fat prey?
Power Girl and Wonder Woman: Not really! they tend to view devouring as a tool in their arsenel, not as an end in itself, and they don’t have many preferences.
Tionishia: Almost certainly; she enjoys rich, tasty treats, especially ones that have so much meat and succulent tastes of self-indulgence on them.
Centorea: she doesn’t PREFER them, but she likes this kind of prey, but refuses to admit it; she feels that implying she prefers easily caught prey implies ineptitude.
Ranamon: I think that feels about right for her?
Blue Diamond: Very likely! Perhaps at one point, she created Gems specifically to devour large amounts of resources, getting very big in the process, and BD ate them in turn to recoup the resources.
Ahsoka: Again, no particular preference there.
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Tell us about a great experience your muse has had with vore!
Power Girl: She once ate an entire sun, getting a massive power boost and size increase; we’re talking taller than a solar system, boobs bigger than the rest of her body, and a power increase to match. it didn’t last but it felt REALLY GOOD
Wonder Woman: She slew an incarnation of Jormagundr in this fashion with her god-buddy, Thor; it was the biggest meal she ever had!
Tionishia: She had a date with fem Kimihito, and her ravenous appetite demanded more and more, and Kimihito offered herself to her; it was a very lovely digestion and Tio was so FULL, and suspects it was the love involved that satisfied her.
Centorea: She took part in a competition where the losers would be meals for the winner, and she won in splendid fashion. She was merciful and allowed them to reform not long afterwards, but she was so STRONG, and her gut so swollen with their wriggling bodies as they dissolved into her, and she relishes the pleasure of that day.
Ranamon: Once devoured a terrible grimoire of ultimate evil, obscuring its dreadful secrets from the multiverse; she actually had something of a tummyache for a while, but it was worth it.
Blue Diamond: After reforming her ways, she repopulated multiple worlds by consuming them and gestating entirely new, fertile ones within herself. IT felt intensely pleasurable and the first truly good thing she had done in a long time, and it gave her a sense of purpose after the fall of the Gem empire.
Ahsoka: At one point, confronted and bested a dreadful wizard of the bleakest arts, overcomign his powerful abilities to consume him. at the time she’d been suffering something of a crisis of confidence, and it reignited her sense of skill and purpose.
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Does your muse experience stomach rumbles or burps after eating someone?
Power Girl: unlikely. probably lots of solar glowing, though.
Wonder Woman: Briefly. sounds like continents moving.
Tionishia: Yes. it is VERY loud and sounds like her belly is bigger on the inside.
Centorea: Yes. very, very loud, due to her multiple chambered stomachs (A combo of human stomaches, horse stomaches, and the weird ways they interact together.)
Ranamon: Kind of; no rumbles or burps normally, but there’s a strange sound as they are converted into pure data.
Blue Diamond: She does not burp or rumble at all unless she specifically wants to, because of how Gems work; digestion rarely involves fluids, for example, but converting prey into magical energy to be absorbed directly or reworked into another form. She CAN, if she wants to.
Ahsoka: Yes. pretty noisy, actually.
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What sort of pred does your muse like?
Power Girl, Wonder Woman: They are similar in that they don’t liked to be preyed upon at all; they’re big time heroes and this sets a poor example, and they’re too fierce to easily have the submissive mindset that characterizes prey in one way or another. you must be WORTHY to do so, but their definitions vary; Power Girl thinks you must be strong, while Wondy feels you should just have the courage to try. (You might not be able to survive trying, though.)
Tionishia: She requires that you be at least somewhat polite. Sort of like taking a girl out to dinner, really.
Centorea: She professes to firmly disapprove of this, but in secret, she does like this, but requires a firm subordinate/superior relation between herself and the pred, with pred as superior.
Ranamon: Kind of prefers her preds to be cool and interesting, and technologically based; not out of bias against organics, but due to her composition, she’s only likely to experience anything if they are able to process data. (Which CAN happen with powerful organic preds anyway, but she’s not aware of this.)
Blue Diamond: She does not like to be eaten. She is still proud and mighty, and sees herself as far above the likes of prey!
Ahsoka: Someone who is very much NOT dark side-aligned, emotionally speaking, tends to fit the bill.
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How many times has your muse been digested or inside a pred’s stomach?
Wonder Woman: Rarely. It’s happened a few times, and its treated as the mutually exclusive deaths of heroes in ancient myths, but she’s loath to have repeats.
Power Girl: A few villains have managed it, and some heroines as well; tends to get her miffed, too.
Tionishia: Reasonably common, though they must be pretty big or voracious to contain so much ogre inside them! She thinks its cuddly and sweet.
Centorea: She’s more common a predator than prey, but it’s happened; once by fem!Kimihito, Rachnera and Tio, and most frequently by Miia, who is now sporting a REALLY big pair of boobs that was once Centorea’s physical body in previous times.
Ranamon: She’s embarassed to admit that she’s frequiently called to upload viruses to enemy servers or networks, and this involves getting ‘eaten’ by manifestations of those servers in the digital realm.
Blue Diamond: she’s bigger than a planet even when she’s not trying, and can be considered a goddess by most standards; it’s RARE. but it can happen! (Rose Quartz and Connie have both done it, on separate occasions.) She doesn’t approve of being reminded of it!
Ahsoka: If the Jedi have vore duels, she’s probably lost a fair number of times, though not in recent times. in her travels, she’s lost her fair share of consumption battles, so she’s familiar with the inside of guts.
Since Angilaka is there, out of curiousity, how would Host or Noria fit in? Since it’s a detective/noir theme, would any other characters be involved like Batman, the deathwatch and so on?
Host: She’s either part of the same broad paladin-esque organization Audrey is from, or a roaming heroine who gets called into the action after a suitably nasty moment where the Society’s cover is blown and people who disapprove of their actions get a chance to intervene. This might be a good chance to make use of her at her most powerful, combining both extremely potent magical knowledge in a body composed of thousands of individual robots, each one castng magic proficiently as a single unit. She would appear in this advanced nanobot body, as well as a small army of networked robots each suited to a specific purpose, and finally the cute green nanobot-slime body you like in particular! She would come and join the hero group to defend poor Tia and her family.
Noria: Perhaps she’s a partner of Audrey in this situation and she joins up as an investigator, to handle the stuff he can’t and encourage the old bot to relax a bit. His health ain’t looking too good and she worries about him!
some other OCs of interest:
Salmave: She serves the Society as someone they have need of; a powerful gadgeteer who can create the weapons they require, who is smart enough to understand the possibilitties of monster parts, interested enough to deal with the dangers, and disinterested enough in politics to not care about what the brass are doing with the stuff. She’s unethical and mostly in it because its her job, but she’s unaware of what they’re actually doing or that she’s giving them the weapons to deal with harmless beings. The question is, are her morals enough to overrule the potential their body parts have for her creations? Mad scientists suffer a compulsion, after all.
Brainlord: As mentioned before, and I’m willing to retool her, but in brief, she was the original leader of the Pequod Society back when its intended purpose was to contain monsters and extradimensional entities, ensure they were of no real threat, and understand them if possible, and destroy them if there was no alternative. She gave the initial okay on making use of the body parts of the ones they did kill, but she left out of disgust when the Society became something more selfish and concerned with its own power rather than a containment system. However, no one knows her present location, and Tiashar herself may be the very best breeding partner she’s ever want for the ultimate dream goal: the recreation of extinct life forms.
Rubicon: a REALLY old OC, back when i was first starting to write, and one that never actually made it into my fics at all. He’s a robot employed by the Society as a hunter, an often cruel and indifferent bastard of a bot who enjoys testing himself against these threats, and regards them as monsters to be slain, and nothing more. he’s not comfortable with Edhitha’s level of personal obsession, though, and he has no personal enmity with Tia.
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Batman: This more low-key stuff is pretty much his main focus in Crossthicc! Batwoman handles the big stuff, while Bruce tends to more street crime things, and an out of control monster hunting society would definitely need to be curbed. He would probably function more as an element the Society desperately wants kept away, as while he is dangerous enough, he has friends like Kal-El who would pose a MASSIVE threat to their plans... among which, require that no one realize what they’re up to, the extent of their plans or the corruption in leadership.
Deathwatch: Technically, they would have a similar job to the Society. They’re an elite group from the Coalition from many of the Primarch worlds, banding together to face unique threats and hidden dangers no one else is equipped to handle, and noted to take on anyone from any faction if they can prove themselves worthy. They take pride in being apolitical and favor no faction when it comes to defense. They regard the Society as poor pretenders, however, and amateurs messing around with very dangerous stuff. They would be VERY alarmed at their use of consuming and empowering themselves with monster parts, as this is VERY dangerous to do. Possibly the Society’s biggest fear is bringing down the wrath of the Deathwatch, and Audrey’s plan? To convince the Deathwatch the Society must be curbed, no matter the cost.
