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Modeus stood stoically on the sidewalk and stared out towards the sky. Her hands were folded one over the other atop her lap, and with a gentle sigh she began tapping her foot. Nobody who passed seemed to pay any mind to this statue of a woman, giving her ample space to think without interruption.
Azazel was supposed to be here five minutes ago.
The thought repeated a few times as her gaze drifted across the city skyline and towards a distant clock atop a tall building. Government buildings always had clocks on them, for some reason. The minute hand ticked.
Six minutes ago.
Modeus had asked her to help figure out the more subtle nuances of human dating by performing a ‘mock lunch’. Azazel's reply- blushing so intensely that she worried she was going to explode, followed by a furious nod- was as enthusiastic as she'd ever seen her. If she was so excited to help, where was she?
Her eyebrows lowered slightly as her hands drifted to her hips.
I wonder if she's still getting ready. Is it normal to be late? She said she was going to dress nice, right?
Modeus closed her eyes.
She already looks nice, though. For an angel. Even if she's a bit silly. She has a very potent charm to her. Maybe that's why. Maybe she's busy dating someone else already. Lucifer might have grabbed her when I wasn't looking. I wouldn't blame her, she's pretty...
She exhaled sharply through her nose and shook her head. A strange feeling slowly began to well up inside her heart, tingling like a million little needles.
Azazel is probably the prettiest angel I've ever seen. The way her voice cracks when she's flustered especially. I think if someone ever fucked her she'd sing in soprano. I wonder if I should do that?
Her thoughts rushed through entirely unhindered by taste or shame. It was understandable, being the Lustful Demon, that she wouldn't really care to censor such basic things inside her head. The odd feeling kept building at her core, creeping outwards with numb tendrils to fill more of her body.
I saw her getting out of the shower that one time. She's not fooling anyone with whatever she wears under her shirt. Azazel's hotter than Lucifer, I think, which is ridiculous. I think she'd kill me if she heard me say that, but it's true.
Her shirt began to feel tight. Modeus opened her eyes slightly and looked down, watching her chest with mild interest. Her boobs slowly crept outwards, swelling bigger, inch by inch. She closed her eyes again. The sight was uninteresting, wholly unregistered in her mind as she kept thinking about her date-to-be.
Once I'm done fucking her I think it'd be fun to spend a few hours in bed kissing her, too. I remember reading about stuff like that. I bet she'd go insane about the sheer depravity of it all.
Modeus’ tits kept growing with every new thought about Azazel, every mental image of her naked body splayed out on a bed, drenched in sweat and cum and furiously blushing. She felt her sweater start to creep up off her waist and dangle loosely from the front of the colossal beachball breasts she now swung around without a care. Her hands drifted back behind her, fingers knitting together.
I wonder what she's up to. I wonder if I should go find her. Maybe that would be too weird...
Her sweater began to tear loudly. Meter upon meter of boob blossomed outwards by the second, perky perfect tits shredding her top apart in cacophonies of tearing fabric and gurgling milk. Each kiloton tit swung down with enough force to crack concrete, but Modeus’ didn't flinch. Her posture remained perfectly upright in the face of her own boobs’ impossible expansion. She now stood attached to two car-sized masses of boob, the absolute center of attention on the street. She didn't open her eyes at all.
I guess she'll be by eventually. Maybe she'll have something, like a gift. Should I have gotten her a gift? What does Azazel even like, beyond demon girls?
She heard her boobs gurgle with enough force to rattle the nearby windows and shake the floor she stood on.
Maybe she likes boobs. Is that different from liking demon girls?
Her tits surged outwards at that thought. Modeus’ expression remained as neutral as it'd started, even with each towering pink mountain of boobfat flooding the street in front of her. She felt a car crash into it, leaving it crumpled but her skin totally unscathed. They felt at least three hundred meters around now, pressing into buildings opposite from where she was standing.
I guess she'll like this, then.
Her nonchalant acknowledgement was all her boobs needed, letting out a roar of creaking, groaning growth as they bulldozed through walls, smashed building and person alike, and rendered a great deal of the block a flattened waste under a wall of impossibly-fast gigatits. She could hear the chaos raging around her now, all the panicked frenzied attempts by others to escape the flood of breast consuming their city.
Where are they going, anyways? I don't think a car could get out fast enough. Azazel will like that, I think. Dating a girl whose beautiful body is destroying everything. That's fucking hot.
She felt pressure on the side of her head, like something was pushing into it. It was only after a few seconds that she realized it wasn't one force but several, repeated so quickly that she thought it was singular for a moment. She opened her eye and looked over in the direction it'd originated from, and saw the back of a human sprinting away, an emptied handgun on the floor where she assumed they had been standing prior. She tilted her head and waited, but didn't feel blood trickling. Not even a drop.
I wonder what it was they expected.
Her breasts bloomed outwards with renewed vigor in response to the attempted murder, a nipple at least 200 meters wide barreling effortlessly through street after street. Concrete and bedrock ripped up beneath the ceaseless expansion of her breasts and flung itself hard into the distance, thousands of tons of stone catapulted further than her own bust could reach to herald their inevitable arrival. The rumbling was all-consuming now, the bellowing swell of her tits too great for any other sound to match. The ground beneath her feet began to split as tectonic forces were overpowered by her bust. The fissure likely led down to the mantle, judging by the immediate burst of heat rising up from the depths that scorched what remained of her clothing black, which would be annoying. With a frustrated exhale, she slammed her legs back together and forced the ground back with it, rocks fusing from the immense pressure from the impact like a wound healing into a scar.
Much better. I can't date Azazel in a pool of lava. I have no idea if she can swim in those like I can.
Kilometers of demonic breast dominated the cityscape that Modeus used to live in. She could feel every individual building and car flattened beneath her boobs. She felt sweat drops as big as ponds trickle down their sides, inevitably falling and drowning yet more of the world right before her growth swept in to clean up the mess. Her nipples alone were as tall as the mountains that she used to see in the distance- then with another sudden burst, she felt them beneath her just as everything else was.
She tilted her head the other direction, feeling the souls of everything she'd crushed swirling around her figure, sinking deep into her tits rather than disappearing into the veil between this world and the afterlife.
Over a million. Azazel will probably say that I'm a monster, but in a hot way that makes it clear she wants me to fuck her more. That's how it usually seems to go with her, like that time she watched Cerberus nearly kill that person and just grinded her thighs together.
Modeus looked up, opening her eyes again. Her head swirled with a hundred little hearts in a mocking parody of a halo. Her wall of breast now hit the clouds above her, forcing them to orbit her mountainous bustline's ever-rising peak. A hundred tingling sensations raged all over her skin from every direction. Little pinpricks of heat and stings, like fly bites. They were fighting back, for some reason.
I guess it's more dramatic than just accepting it.
A sudden sound cut through the rumble behind her, as the building she'd meant to eat lunch with Azazel in crumbled from the apocalyptic tits just outside its front door raging endlessly more intensely. She frowned just a little, but this also quickly passed when she saw what was on the other end. Modeus was staring down the barrel of a tank. Had it driven through this to get to her?
It's only been a few minutes. How did they mobilize that quickly-
Her thoughts were cut off by the explosion. The heat was infernal, worse than even Judgement's worst punishing flames. It had landed a direct hit right in her face, the explosive force of the round racing through her form and into her tits like a hammer hitting a gong. The panicked crew inside, having been forced to get going with such haste that most weren't even fully in their seats when they arrived, let out a cheer of excitement.
When the smoke dissipated, their spirits did just as quickly. Modeus had, again, not budged even an inch. She was still standing in the same place, her back as straight as ever, with only a minor bruise between her eyebrows to show for it. She rolled her heart-filled eyes, and without looking, casually caught a falling grape-sized piece of rubble that'd been kicked up by the blast between her finger and thumb. She pointed backwards and flicked it at them. A flash of light followed, and then the deafening roar. The sonic boom cracked like thunder and, before the rock could even evaporate from the intense heat of the air resistance it felt at hypersonic speeds, it collided with the front end of the tank and caved it inside-out, blowing the whole thing apart like a bullet through paper. She looked back at her bustline and almost immediately forgot that the entire exchange had even happened.
I wonder where Azazel went.
She leaned into her tits slightly and closed her eyes again, feeling the impossible weight, feeling the innumerable little prickles of missiles and bullets and bombs and whatever else humanity could frantically pepper her skin with. It was nice to know she was going to be the apocalypse.
Once she gets here, I want her to lay on them with me. Then we can use it as a bed to start-
She kept thinking about a dozen different scenarios and positions at once. Stoic as she was, Modeus had been completely consumed by her impossibly intense adoration for Azazel. For her cute dopey smile and vacant-headed love for demons and complete delusion about her own morality. Her laugh and her smile. All of it flashed in her mind's eye on loop and forced her chest out faster and faster. She wanted to lay with her on this bed forever, as her... what was it they said it was? ...‘Girlfriend’, right.
I bet Azazel will like having a girlfriend with tits this big.
Modeus felt her breasts creep further than the curvature of the Earth could handle, her nipples hanging off into the cold vacuum of space. When had she gotten this big? She must have been growing when she was distracted.
But I should be certain.
She felt a few feet scampering along her breasts, a few kilometers east. Judging by the gait, plus the group of three all running in perfect lockstep, it was probably the demons...
Modeus looked at her tits, her planet-cracking apocalyptic godlike boobs that completely dominated everything else in their vicinity. The Earth was irreversibly doomed, and all she felt about the whole thing was mild anticipation. Anticipation for Azazel's arrival, anticipation for her reaction, anticipation for continuing to grow forever.
I think we'll move to engagement once I've crushed Heaven and Hell together in my cleavage. It'll be symbolic, my boobs bridging the two worlds together in more ways than one.
Modeus’ perpetually serious stoicism gave way to a slight smile.
She'll love that.