Supanari Chapter 7


It was only with reluctance that Dezerea pulled herself from Maxine’s bedside at the Monster Control Squad’s infirmary. Seeing what the monster attack had done to Maxine was heart wrenching, even if Max was her rival as much as her friend.

They removed the bed from one of the curtained enclosures inside the infirmary to accommodate Maxine’s hugely bloated form. She was still delirious, moaning constantly as her limbs moved in gentle circles to caress her stuffed belly. She occasionally burst into sudden fits of ecstatic screaming and thrashing. Her cock was only half-hard, but drooled jizz constantly down the curvature of her cum-stuffed belly into a pan set on the floor. Her pussy spasmed and clenched at the numerous hoses rigged up to drain the spunk from her badly-gaped orifice. Katie’s spunk was extremely viscous and the pumps had to fight for every ounce; it was almost as if the stuff wanted to stay in.

That should be my cum bloating up your belly so big you can’t move. Thought the distraught futa, reaching out to tenderly stroke Maxine’s hand. Even that gentle stimulation was enough to send Max into another thrashing, orgasmic fit. Her lengthy, brown cock twitched and spurted another several gallons of thick semen into the pan under her belly, overflowing it and splattering hot goop across Dezerea’s bare toes.

Dez blinked tears out of her large, brown eyes and looked away.

“I’ve heard of monsters raping victims before,” Dezerea told her escort as they made their way out of the sickbay and through the halls of the San Futas MCS branch HQ toward the de-monsterization facility. “But I’ve never seen anything like that. Have you?”

Her escort was not a futa, but one of the many non-futa auxiliaries of the MCS. He shook his head.

“No, ma’m,” he answered after she kept staring at him.

They stepped into the elevator and the auxiliary pressed the button for the de-monsterization level. Metal blast doors several inches thick locked into place and the armored capsule began to descend. Dezerea surreptitiously tested the strength of the capsule’s armor with her telekinesis and nodded in satisfaction when she felt a tingle like a mild electric shock in the telekinetic center of her brain, momentarily numbing her power.

Glad to see they took my 7th grade paper on TK nullification seriously. Thought Dezerea. She had no malicious intent, but she couldn’t help but make notes on the facility’s security systems. Devising ways to circumvent them was a fun puzzle game, though she was impressed at how thorough the designers had been. If she found any serious gaps she’d make sure they were reported to the proper authorities.

“Where’s the monster the MCS captured today?” Dez asked when the elevator finally stopped at the third subbasement. “Is it being held at this facility?”

The auxiliary didn’t answer.

“I was just curious,” said Dezerea. The Indian futa strolled nonchalantly beside the tall auxiliary. She looked up at him and visualized chocolate cake so that her pupils would dilate and make her appear more innocent. Her big, brown, puppy-dog eyes shined up at the burly auxiliary.

He looked away.

“I’m not at liberty to say,” he answered, finally.

Dez was a little surprised by this; monster attacks were a matter of public safety, and there should be no reason to withhold that kind of information. The more widespread the knowledge of a threat, the more people could prepare. Concealing knowledge that was in the public interest was counterintuitive.

Maybe this guard was just an idiot.

“So does that mean it’s not here?” she prodded.

He didn’t answer. Dez concluded he was under instructions not to disclose this information. Very interesting; there was clearly something else different about this monster besides its destructive capabilities.

In silence, the pair reached the end of a long, armored corridor, stopping at several points to allow the remote-controlled doors to open ahead of them. Every step they took was watched by cameras in the ceiling, and here and there Dezerea noted microscopic seams that betrayed hidden compartments in the walls and ceiling that concealed further anti-escape countermeasures.

Or were they anti-intrusion? There was no need to conceal weapons and traps from the monsters after all.

“Do agents of the Opposition ever try to get down here?” asked Dezerea.

“Sometimes,” answered the auxiliary.

Oh so that’s no secret, but the monster is. Dez rolled her eyes.

The doors sealed behind them as they went. The final barrier was a set of blast doors that were over five feet thick of TK-resistant monomolecular alloy. They only opened just wide enough to admit the pair. From inside, Dezerea could see the entire chamber was built of the stuff. The super-tough metal was tremendously expensive to produce, and virtually indestructible. The whole earth could be swallowed up by the sun and this bunker would still be floating around the photosphere intact.

Along with Maxine’s mom, I’ll bet. Dez smiled at the thought.

They had to step around a large-caliber railgun mount fixed just inside the door, diamond-allotrope-tipped tungsten rounds locked and loaded. She was so busy admiring the barrel of the massive weapon that at first she didn’t even realize what it was aiming at: Chained spread-eagle to the wall ahead of her, standing sixteen feet tall and weighing over sixty tons of muscle and rage, was the monster.

The monster was enclosed in a cube of transparent diamond-allotrope and illuminated by floodlights. It was still unconscious, a yard-long rope of viscous drool dangled from its broad mouth. Its forehead still bore the imprint of Maxine’s sneaker, the flesh around it hardened into a spiny, chitinous armor. The creature’s body had instinctively adapted to Maxine’s attack.

“He’s smaller than I expected,” observed Dez, looking with disappointment at the toadlike monstrosity. “Hardly seems like a priority after today. Are you sure I shouldn’t de-monsterize the new one instead?”

A monster that powerful has got to be worth at least four or five inches. It’s just my luck the one I get would be worth a measly two, if that. Dez thought to herself.

“Sorry, kiddo, but all lotto results are final,” said a futa scientist who’d just stepped out of the shadows. She turned to the auxiliary. “I’ll take her from here, Gershowitz. Thanks.”

The auxiliary saluted and marched out, the mammoth doors slammed and locked shut behind him.

“Pleased to meet you, miss Deshmukh,” the doctor extended her hand to Dezerea. “My name is Doctor Copwell.”

When Dezerea accepted her handshake, she noticed immediately that Dr. Copwell’s hand was prosthetic. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the artificial flesh even mimicking normal body temperature and heartbeat. Only the artificial pulse’s perfect rhythm gave the prosthetic away; a detail so minute only a high-level futa’s senses could have noticed. Dezerea was willing to bet the prosthetic provided neural-interfaced feedback as well.

“It’s an honor,” answered Dezerea, bowing at the waist.

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to gaining a few extra inches.” Dr. Copwell smiled.

“Well, yes…” Dez admitted. She lifted out her dress for the doctor to inspect. The silk fabric was long enough to brush the tops of her sandal-shod feet. “Is this alright? I know it’s a lot of loose fabric but I wanted to have room to grow, if you know what I mean.”

“It was a good choice,” affirmed Dr. Copwell. “You won’t believe how many girls come in here wearing tight pants because they want to show off their new bulge. We warn them beforehand that a side effect of the procedure is an erection guaranteed to last at least six hours.”

“Should I consult a doctor if it lasts less?” asked Dezerea, smirking.

Dr. Copwell chuckled and guided Dezerea over to the monster’s left side where Dez saw there was set up a reclining seat like a dentist’s chair. It was fixed with straps to hold the arms in place. Next to the chair was a miniaturized railgun mounted on an articulated frame. Dezerea recognized the design from the SFH science fair two years prior. It had won third place.

“Nice railgun. Shouldn’t it be pointed at the monster, though?” she joked.

The doctor patted the menacing apparatus. “It’s actually for you, I’m afraid. This is what we’ll be using to drive the transfusion needle into your skin. Unfortunately, it’s the only thing that can penetrate the flesh of a futa your level. You will feel a moment of discomfort.”

“I’ve heard it hurts like hell…” said Dez.

Dr. Copwell couldn’t offer any comfort to that.

I’d endure all the torments of hell if it meant an extra inch of cock. She thought, lying back in the chair. She noticed the chamber ceiling was very high, vanishing up into darkness over eighty feet above the monster’s head.

They must be expecting some big guests…

“If you’re ready, please roll up your sleeve so we can begin.” Dr. Copwell gripped the railgun by its handles and swiveled it around. There was an electric whine as the high-powered injector powered up.

“Fire at will,” said Dezerea, taking a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut.

Dr. Copwell pressed the muzzle against Dezerea’s shoulder and pulled the trigger.



A few levels above where Dezerea was getting her arm pierced, Celeste Hyperion strode into the MCS secure communications center, completely bowling over the tiny futa technician who was running out at the same time.

“O-oh! Excuse me, ma’m!” stuttered the mousey girl, scrambling to salute and pick up her scattered papers at the same time.

“Has the Futa Council responded to my request for a conference yet?” asked Celeste, surveying the busy comms room with a steely glare. She didn’t even spare a glance at the poor girl she’d just knocked down.

“Y-yes m’am!” answered the tech, leaping back to her feet. Even in heels, the petit girl barely came up to the bottoms of Celeste’s melon-sized tits. “I was just on my way to find you,” she continued.

“That was fast,” Celeste arched her eyebrows in mild surprise. “Who did we get? Blue Three? Blue Five? I suppose anything higher is too much to hope for on such short notice…”

“A-actually m-ma’m it’s R-roy G. Biv…” stammered the tiny girl, flipping through the coded sheets on her clipboard.

Now Celeste really was surprised. “You’re shitting me. The world council?”

“No ma’m I’m not… S-shitting you…” answered the tech, her voice trailing off as Celeste marched past her into the videoconference room.

The videoconference room was really more of a booth, large enough to comfortably accommodate three normal-sized people or Celeste all by herself. The walls, floor, and ceiling were tru-depth molecular-pixel screens so high-rez that the image could be zoomed-in to microscopic scale before you could spot the artifacts that gave it away as a projection. At the moment, the interior of the booth was configured to resemble a spacious, luxuriously-appointed boardroom with a large, oak conference table flanked by high-backed leather chairs. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposite end of the long room with the Futa York skyline visible beyond. The illusion of depth was perfect, though Celeste knew if she reached out with her hand it would bump against the glassy smooth surface of the screen just a few feet in front of her face.

“Where is everyone?” asked Celeste.

“Initiating secure connection,” the tech’s voice came over the speakers.

The conference room abruptly vanished and Celeste found herself standing in a spotlight, surrounded by darkness on all sides. Seven more spotlights illuminated empty patches in a semicircle around her and into each stepped a member of the Futa Council.  Though their appearance and mode of dress differed greatly, each woman predominantly wore her team color: Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, or Violet. They were all sporting massive erections.

“Good afternoon, Commander Hyperion,” said Red. She was dressed in a bombastically over decorated military uniform complete with epaulettes, braids, loops, medals and ribbons. A red peaked cap with gold embroidery on the polished black brim sat low across her eyes. Her fifteen-inch cock tented the red fabric of her thigh-length skirt, which was split up the front to accommodate her throbbing cock.

Celeste had to remind herself that although the council had seven faces, they were effectively a single mind. Each member of the council conferred telepathically with the others at a rate of data exchange that would humiliate even the fastest computer network. Still, it was off putting to be greeted by someone who she generally regarded as an opponent. She swallowed her discomfort and snapped to with a salute.

“The Blue Council received your report,” Blue spoke this time. “It was unanimously decided that this constituted a global crisis and the Rainbow Council was convened.”

“’Crisis’ is a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think?” asked Celeste, scoffing a little as she stood at ease. “We have the monster in stable containment and can crush it at any time. Really I just wanted to consult with Blue over some procedural—”

“Our understanding is that you are actually holding a futanari in containment, Commander,” interrupted Yellow.

Celeste gave the Blue councilwoman a pointed look. The skinny blonde thirtysomething had obviously just come from the beach; her diaphanous blue gown was damp where it touched her skin and there was dried sand clinging to the sides of her bare feet.

“And Blue, in her wisdom, opted to share that sensitive information with the Opposition, I take it,” said Celeste.

“The Blue Team Council deemed this information important enough to transcend politics. The Rainbow Council concurs and has voted to suspend the Competition until further notice,” answered Red. “All national borders have been abolished and the World Government has been put into effect.” Red smiled condescendingly. “There is no ‘Opposition’ anymore.”

“So I suppose this means you’re personally taking charge of the situation?” asked Celeste, bristling a little at this invasion of her authority.

“We’re actually here to advise you. You’re the one who called this council, after all,” answered Blue.

Celeste was taken aback. “Advise me?

Green spoke this time. “Yes. How do you intend to handle this?”

Celeste was put off balance by this response. It was completely unlike the Council to defer to her. Normally she had to fight tooth and nail to get them to see her point of view.

Celeste sighed. She hadn’t been looking forward to this.

“I recommend termination,” she told them. “Immediately.”

The council’s eyes flickered as they looked amongst themselves. Though to the outside observer they were effectively one mind, their responses were still the product of seven individuals holding a conversation moving too fast to see. What passed between them must have been a heated debate that went on for some hours of their subjective time.

To Celeste it was only a pause of a few seconds.

“That would be… problematic,” said Green.

“How so? We put monsters down all the time. Even human-types if they are too powerful to safely contain,” said Celeste.

“Yes, but she’s not a monster,” answered Violet. “She’s a futanari citizen with rights and you are currently detaining her without charges.”

“You want charges? How about wanton destruction of property and rape?” Celeste suggested forcefully.

 “Neither of those crimes carries the death penalty, and any penalties she did accrue would have to be determined after a fair trial in a court of law,” responded Violet.

Celeste scoffed. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing! You talk about her ‘rights’ like she’s one of you. Sure, protect her ‘rights’ if you want, but what rights do you think you or any of us will have once she gets loose? I gave you her measurements. Her cock is fully a yard long and as thick as my bicep!” Celeste flexed her arm by way of illustration. Her bicep looked like a huge, pink watermelon squeezed in the crook of her elbow. “She’s farther beyond you than you are beyond normal people!”

The council let the “normal people” comment slide.

“We agree,” said Blue.

“You… you do?” Celeste’s temper cooled as if dunked in ice water.

 “Indeed,” spoke Blue, as the rest of the council nodded. “There is a strong potential her release would mark the end of life as we know it. Even with our great curiosity and thirst for exploration, we fear the unknown she represents.”

“Therefore, we propose a compromise,” said Indigo, fluttering her long lashes.

“Oh?” Celeste crossed her arms beneath her massive chest.

“Yes, we request you interrogate the subject and determine how she was able to enlarge her penis by so much, so rapidly,” said Orange.

“Interrogate her?” Celeste blinked.

“It is extremely unlikely that such a sudden and drastic increase in size is the product of natural growth,” explained Blue. “Frankly, we suspect your daughter’s involvement.”


“It’s no secret that your daughter Maxine has made penis expansion the subject of obsessive study. We can only assume that she has finally discovered a viable method of artificially inducing rapid growth,” said Blue. “Unfortunately, she’s in no fit state to answer questions. We’ve already lost two Blue councilmembers to whatever’s going on inside her pleasure-addled mind.”

“Two?” Celeste prickled. “You tried to interrogate my daughter telepathically a second time without telling me?”

“No,” Blue shook her head. “The second was lost trying to contact the first. Computer scans show their brains are caught in a self-perpetuating pleasure feedback loop that obliterates all conscious thought. Our current models project that the condition is irreversible.”

Celeste’s face went almost as white as her hair.

“Our only hope of finding out what happened is to interrogate the futa you have imprisoned,” said Green.

“I don’t want to talk to that thing!” snapped Celeste. “If she’s permanently destroyed my daughter’s brain then I’m going to crush her at the first opportunity! Send one of your pet geniuses to interrogate her!”

The futas conferred momentarily.

“Commander, by our estimates, the being you currently hold in containment wields an intellect an order of magnitude greater than the combined brainpower of every other futa on the planet. There is no doubt in our mind that only a few moments’ conversation with her would be enough to compromise even our brightest and most strong-willed interrogators,” explained Yellow.

“So why would I do any better?” asked Celeste.

“Because,” said Blue, “the current World Order is largely shaped by this council’s concessions to your sensibilities.”

“We futas could have rewritten humanity’s genome to make the species more peaceful and intellectual,” said Indigo.

“Or culled the surplus population through a program of fair and painless euthanasia to relieve the stress on our natural resources,” said Orange.

“What did I tell you guys about culling?” Celeste raised a warning finger.

“Exactly. You prevented us from putting any sort of drastic plan for humanity into action, and would not be swayed by any argument, no matter how rational or cunning.” said Blue.

“Your dummy dumb brains are holding humanity back!” blurted Red, apparently speaking out of turn. None of the other futas appeared to react, though, so the outburst was probably with their blessing.

“And we have no choice but to accede to your whims, because even if every futa on the planet were to unite against you and fight optimally, we calculate a one hundred and three percent chance that you could defeat all of us within seventeen minutes,” Blue continued.

Celeste blew across her fingernails nonchalantly and shrugged.

“So we have the entire futa population of the planet on one hand, balanced by you alone on the other,” said Green. “Yet in spite of your position as de-facto ruler of the world, you’ve chosen the life of a civil servant.”

“I’m not interested in being Queen of Earth,” said Celeste.

“Common wisdom states that ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely,’” said Blue. “The fact that it has not corrupted you tells us that if any being on this planet can be trusted to question your prisoner, it’s you.”

Celeste didn’t know how to respond to this. She was still wrapping her head around being described as the “ruler of the world.”

At length, she reached a decision. “All right. I’ll talk to her, but I’m keeping one finger on the button. If I don’t like what I hear, or if there’s even the slightest hint that something might be off: I’m squishing her.”

The Futa Council agreed to her terms and terminated the connection. Celeste was suddenly back in the sunlit conference room, the distant sounds of traffic faintly audible from the street outside.



Katie McLeod awoke in darkness. Every part of her body felt like it was pressed against every other part. She couldn’t even tell how she was positioned: her whole existence was squeezing. She tried to move, and instantly the pressure on her body increased painfully and irresistibly. She tried to scan her surroundings with her psychic sight (her nineteen inch power) and was surprised to discover that apparently the entire universe as far as her mind could see was an kaleidoscopic landscape of herself repeated infinitely in all directions.

“I must be inside the event horizon of a black hole.” Katie deduced. “All paths in spacetime lead closer to the center of the singularity. Any direction any part of me moves just compacts me further. It’s a good thing I didn’t try to force my way out, or I might have crushed myself into a bead of neutronium!”

Katie was somewhat chagrined to note that despite all her myriad powers, altering the curvature of spacetime was still beyond her ability, so she couldn’t just pop the black hole and walk out. But how did she get here, anyway? Her last memory was of jizzing on the moon. The fact that her consciousness could suffer any discontinuity —however brief— was extremely distressing.

A quick scan of her own body revealed a clue: apparently she’d suffered a blow to the head. How unoriginal. Whatever had struck her had not only been forceful enough to crack her skull, but had actually liquefied ninety nine percent of her brain. It had taken her body’s regenerative powers this long to repair all the damage. The last few millimeters of the hairline crack in her skull vanished even as she watched. Fortunately, Katie had suffered no loss of memory or personality; everything Katie had been before her dick started growing took up less than a fraction of a percent of her newly expanded mental capacity. She’d backed up copies of herself throughout her mind so losing so much of her brain was only a minor inconvenience.

While she was scanning herself, she also noticed something very strange about her DNA.

“Interesting…” she said.

She realized someone was speaking. Each vibration of sound seemed years apart to her, but piecing together the individual waves as they washed against her eardrums provided a momentary diversion from the centuries of emptiness she had endured already.

She recognized Celeste’s voice.

Well at least I’ve got a pretty good idea of what hit me. Thought Katie.

“Can you hear me?” Celeste demanded.

“Yes! I can hear you!” answered Katie, affecting the most innocent, most vulnerable tone she could possibly project. She tried to scan her surroundings with telepathy again, but could touch no mind beyond her own. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the custody of the Monster Control Squad,” answered Celeste, her voice seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere.

“Miss Hyperion, is that you?” asked Katie, playing up her innocent voice a little more.

“How about you tell me your name, first,” said Celeste.

“It’s me! Katie McLeod!” answered Katie. “Maxine’s friend. Why am I here? What’s happening?”

Outside the singularity, Celeste frowned as she surveyed the impossibly black surface of the containment orb on the monitors. Genetic tests of the sperm that had been raining nonstop across the entire planet had matched Katie’s DNA, so the prisoner’s story checked out, but Celeste was still wary of some sort of trick.

“Do you remember destroying the school and half the town?” she asked.

“It was an accident. I wasn’t fully in control of my new powers yet. It was too much, too fast,” answered Katie.

“And you think you’ve got your powers under control now?”

“I’m sure I do, I could even use them to fix everything if you let me out,” offered Katie.

Katie’s world was suddenly a white hot blaze of pure anguish. She howled at the top of her lungs as every atom of her being was squeezed in on itself. The agony seemed to endure for centuries.

The pain receded and Katie screamed again. “Help! Help! What’s happening?”

“I contracted the diameter of the singularity by a single millimeter,” explained Celeste, her hand caressing a dial on the control panel in front of her. “I will do that every time you ask to be released, or make a comment I feel is too suggestive of a desire to be released, do you understand?”

“Y-yes I’m sorry!” Katie whimpered.

“I control the size of your whole world and everything about it. Not even time can get in there unless we let it. So, unless you want to experience firsthand what it’s like to have all the atoms in your body compressed down to the size of a thimble, you’ll answer my questions and quit trying to escape,” said Celeste.

“P-please, I’ll do anything you want! Just don’t hurt me like that again!” Katie begged.

“And drop the innocent routine!” growled the beefy commander. “If you are the real Katie we both know you’re too smart to believe I’d fall for it.” When she was answered by silence, she continued. “You said you weren’t fully in control of your new powers. Where did this power come from? How did your dick get so big?” asked Celeste.

“I suggest you ask Max. She’s the one who did this to me,” answered Katie.

“Maxine’s in a pleasure-coma. A coma you put her in, I might add,” said Celeste. “So I’m not asking her; I’m asking you.”

“Maxine altered her sperm to modify my DNA and enlarge my penis,” answered Katie. “Her experiment succeeded, but not for the reasons she thinks it did. Speaking of which, if Dezerea Deshmukh hasn’t yet begun the de-monsterization process, you should abort immediately; she’s in grave danger.”

“The process has already finished and she’s perfectly fine,” Celeste lied.

“You’re lying,” answered Katie, flatly. “She either hasn’t begun the procedure yet, in which case you should put a stop to it right now, or she’s already dead from fatal histamine rebound.”

Celeste automatically suspected some kind of trick, but she couldn’t place how stopping Dezerea from going through the de-monsterizing process would help Katie escape.

“What makes you think Dezerea is in danger?” asked Celeste.

“Why don’t you go and rescue her first and then I’ll answer more of your questions,” responded Katie.

The mic clicked off. Katie waited in the squeezing, suffocating darkness for more questions, but none came. Hopefully the silence meant that Celeste was going to check on Dezerea and not that she’d decided Katie was better off as a paperweight…


End of Chapter 7



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