Popapocalypse

Story by Uncalled on SoFurry

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#4 of Inflation-Bursting Stories

A commission forhttp://www.furaffinity.net/user/metadedede

When a fox unleashes an apocalypse, it's not as simple as fire and brimstone. Contains cum inflation, sex of all sorts, and many, many bursts. Also, a sexy god-monster!

Like the pops? Go here! https://www.patreon.com/coinsquare


The sarcophagus lay just beneath the moss-covered dirt, miles away from the dig site the University approved. Crumbling clay amulets and flows of lead over brutal chains around the crudely carved stone box made Roland pause. This was no way to protect treasure, no last rite the fox was familiar with. The locals, whoever they were, wanted the thing inside buried and forgotten. But, he reasoned, if he did not open it, some other rogue archaeologist would. If there was something of value in rock coffin, he would never forgive himself. Besides, it would be a waste of bribing the soldiers and the mayor of the nearby city.

The worthless clay bits, a mixture of scarabs and tablets scratched with ugly, snaking script, were easy to rip from the sarcophagus. The metal spilled over the sarcophagus, weakened after ages under the earth, succumbed to Roland's paws just as easily, and though the chains presented a challenge, he eventually shattered some of the links with his shovel. Then, bracing against the shallow pit he dug to reveal the box, he pushed the heavy lid off. The stone slid slowly, many pounds of unpolished marble crashing into the mud a moment later.

Roland blinked, trying to understand what he was looking at. He expected a skeleton, or a pile of gold, or a clever trap. The plump, wealthy vulpine thief was familiar with the way things worked in his chosen hobby. But, the thing lying, swathed in heavy white cloth, was like nothing he had ever seen. The monster breathed, chest rising softly, tiny black feathers with golden tips sprouting with every exhale only to slide back under thick, red scales on the inhale. Quills striped with gold, blue, and black rose up from around the creature's head, forming a spiky mane that seemed to shiver all on its own. A pair of horns, like a giraffe's, sprouted from the beast's skull, slight creases and openings at their edges all that betrayed them as his ears. Unmistakably, the thing is male, Roland thought, shorter quills encircling the monster's huge balls and cock like colorful arrows pointing at the ultimate target.

Tearing his eyes from the creature's crotch, Roland looked at his face again. If it were not for the crimson scales and the tidal waves of feathers periodically rising from them, he would have looked like a handsome borzoi. Lean, long-snouted face, long eyelashes tipped with gold, and luscious lips lent a certain femininity to the creature, in spite of his muscular frame. The beast's slow, even breathing stopped, the feathers fully extending, unfurling into a magnificent coat, the scales fully hidden everywhere but around his face. The eyelashes lifted, the creature's eyes opened, and stared right into Roland's.

The fox whimpered. Pools of midnight blue swirling with silver and gold, the irises a brilliant, light blue, reflected his own dull amber eyes. He felt small and plain in those eyes. Roland's years of stealing artifacts, flipping off authorities, and bargaining with criminals meant nothing to this creature. A mouth lined with sharp teeth opened, a forked tongue sliding out to taste the air, a bored smile, a royal's condescending smirk, forming on those black lips. The fat fox huffed, shuddering as he struggled to step away from the sarcophagus, unable to break eye contact with the monster. Languages, facts, and fantasies flashed across the fearful vulpine's mind like scared birds. The beast growled, and sat up in his coffin.

"Centuries. Centuries wasted." he said, claws digging into the box's edge. "Pathetic. And, to be dug up like a ghoul's feast, by... what is that pile of words? A perverted noble? A foolish merchant? Your language lacks even the proper titles and names of things. I have been asleep too long."

"S-sir? Who are you?" Roland squeaked.

The vulpine grave-robber felt his back pressing against the dirty hole he dug, clumps of soil staining his shirt and shorts. He could not recall how he moved away from the coffin.

"Tiyaphon of the Set'tsh. Not that these names mean anything to you. Set, Typhon, Quetzalcoatl, angels, jinn... Just echoes of a time before your own." Tiyaphon's expression shifted like quicksilver, by turns sad, furious, and amused.

He stood, effortless and graceful, a scaled, two-pronged tail, like a devil's fork, lashing behind him. Flexing his shoulders, he grew taller, darker, more imposing by the moment.

"Your kind have ruled this world long enough. It is time for stronger creatures to take your place. But, since you did free me, I will show some kindness. Your end will be pleasant, and any of you that survive when I return from my star-journey will be spared the full extent of my curse. Enjoy." the monster said, reaching out a paw to touch Roland.

The fox never felt anything like it. It was like warm steel, every vibration, every heartbeat traveling down the unyielding feathers coating the clawed appendage to shock his heart. The paw easily wrapped around his skull, pressed down so hard Roland feared he would collapse under its weight, and then, abruptly lifted. A scent drifted around the plump fox, like ozone and cinnamon, and he felt lightheaded.

"Your kind have forgotten what lust means. I will remind you." he growled.

The last thing Roland saw before he fell into the mud by the stone box's side was the creature unfurling, sprouting more feathers, turning the forests of brilliant plumes into great feathered wings, wreathed in blue and golden flames. With a sound of metal shrieking against metal, the monster rose into the sky, and the fox closed his eyes with a whimper.

VVV

Waking up hurt. Every muscle felt stretched and every bone creaked and cracked into place. Worse than the pain, the fox soon learned, were the consequences of his unconsciousness. The authorities, those not loyal to those he bribed, found him. Roland barely escaped with his head on his shoulders. Fortunately for him, seeing the sarcophagus and its contents of dust, broken amulets, and heaps of cloth, he was sent back home in shame, rather than thrown into prison.

Back home, he halfheartedly defended himself in a local court, a chunk of his fortune eaten up by lawyers in exchange for his freedom. His 'career' of adventuring around and stealing ancient artifacts was over. Sad, and more than a little worried by the monster he barely believed in even after having seen the thing for himself, Roland retreated to his family's home.

He remembered Tiyaphon's touch, and the odd illness he experienced upon waking up. Everywhere he went, it spread. Small bouts of flu, outbursts of food poisoning and unexplained fevers plagued everyone around him, and yet, nothing seemed to change. Perhaps, Roland thought, the monster's power was not what it once was, after thousands of years in a stone coffin. Maybe, this was all he could muster.

Of course, it was not.

What started off as minor symptoms occasionally flaring up turned to stranger, more bizarre things. A vixen servant Roland lusted woke up one morning with gigantic breasts, and only the rich fox's generosity stopped her running off to the doctors and the cops ranting about his evil ways. He even managed to convince her to pose for some nude photos, once she calmed down enough. News of other changes soon poured in: a soldier at the border crossing who searched Roland showed up to work barely able to walk due to the massive cock that grew seemingly overnight, a scientist entrusted with the stone box called in sick one day only to appear at work his pants stretched by a scrotum that reached to his knees, heavy with melon-sized balls, and Roland's lawyer developed more tit-meat than her body could handle, forced to rely upon her aides and paralegals to even answer the phone.

The doctors were baffled. As more and more people gained weight in suspiciously perverse ways, they came up with names and searched for causes, but all for nothing. No bacteria or virus could be isolated, no single lead, no one method of 'infection' could be found. By the end of the month, most of the world labored with swollen genitals or increasing bust-size, their bodies caricatures of their sexuality.

Roland was almost relieved when, after a stomach ache and a day in bed, he finally acquired the size of all his male house servants. The thick, white length of cock that was mere inches before now almost touched the floor, a grotesque, veined pole so fat it made even his plump thighs seem small. His balls, too, bloated up, the hot pouch between his legs bigger than his head.

The world was just settling into the routine of widening doors and writing welfare checks to people whose bodies bloomed a little too much, when the dreams began. Every night, Roland woke up, his head swimming with oceans of flesh. He felt like he had been a part of some vast orgy. Brief recollections of tidal waves of milk, geysers of semen, and fogs of sweat troubled him throughout the day, and he saw others pausing to scratch at their new endowments, eyes glazed with pleasure and horror. No one spoke of it, of course, but Roland knew something was wrong.

The fat fox was watching the news one morning, a plate of eggs resting on his lap, when the first pop happened.

She was a rabbit. A size fetishist even before the spontaneous growth of the whole population, her implants were demolished when her breasts became as big as weather balloons. She continued on with her career of pornography, even training to take the newly-minted studs of the industry, their lengths measured in feet rather than inches. She lay on the bed of her tits, the wolf thrusting into her ass panting and drooling over her back, pawing what he could reach of her chest from behind. The news people did not even bother censoring anything. She was moaning in bliss, eyes watering in pleasurable agony, when the floodgates were open. Milk sprang from her nipples, the inches-long nubs spurting milk like fountains. The wolf behind her grunted, eyes wide in surprise, and collapsed on top of her, humping in a forceful climax. Just how forceful became apparent when the lapine porn star's sides bloated outwards, her womb swelling in burbling fits, the wolf's cum flooding in faster and faster.

She screamed and clawed at the air, reaching new heights, her belly soon as big as both of her gigantic breasts, and just as overfilled. The wolf, until now mindlessly releasing into her, began to babble and whine, rising up again, pushed up by his growing gut. His seed, far more than he even his enormous length could release, was backing up into him. Soon, his belly rested over the pathetically moaning rabbit, crushing her into her own burdens of womb and tits, the lupine's middle like a wobbling balloon on the verge of rupture.

Roland watched, mesmerized, until the end. The rabbit, in the midst of yet another pleasured scream, clenched her paws into fists, every inch of her delicate hide tightening, painful stretch marks slashing their way up her three taut, lust-filled globes, and exploded into a wave of white. Her lover, unable to so much as scream in shock, fell back. When he splashed into the lake of cum and milk she had become, the wolf's entire body bulged, his three-foot-long cock squirting its last, his legs twitching as he humped upwards, and he, too, met his demise in a splash of slimy white.

The news anchors of every channel cautioned against sex, against strangers, against everything the media outlets could think of. It was no good. Before he had taken another fork-full of omelet to his mouth, there were dozens of videos of other incidents of bursting. Roland watched each of them, until he saw the most terrible one.

A ferret with creamy fur and a swimmer's build, but for his priapic size, posed for the camera, eyes glinting with desire, waved to his audience.

"Hi... So, you've all seen the pops lately, right? Well, I think I know how to make it happen. Don't worry, I'm going anyway...might as well pop for...mmm...science... watch me..." he chuckled darkly, and grabbed his length with both paws.

"You just have to get horny enough....mmmm! Yes... And then, then...ooh! Oh, yes... You just keep letting it build!" he groaned, gulping in air, continuing to pump his fifteen inches of meat.

His balls bloated up, forcing him down on his knees. In moments, the ballooning scrotum between his legs was so swollen every hair on it was inches apart from others. Sweat ran down his body, veins sprouting up from his massive member like lightning bolts. In moments, his classical beauty was demolished. His belly grew, erasing his six-pack, his face contorting in pleasure, his lips forming an agonized 'o' that Roland had no doubt signaled an oncoming climax.

When he came, his purple-red cock firing off massive jets of his semen past the camera, the fox felt a stirring in his own loins. This was not just bestial release. This transcended flesh, drove it to new heights. The ferret, his head thrown back, his mouth open in a silent scream, jiggled in place and came again and again, until his belly forced his paws away, and his blasting cock down, to mash into his increasingly pained-looking scrotum. A thin, red line, a raphe along his belly that stayed hidden under his fluff until now appeared, a squirming sign of the weasel's impending fate. He could not hold back, and a moment later, the camera was thrown backwards, the lens cracked and the last sound it recorded the wet BLORF of a flesh condom popping, spraying its filling everywhere.

Roland blinked. He felt it. Lust rising, pulling him down into some deeper part of himself. He struggled up, wiping his brow, throwing aside his eggs. He put on a robe, and following his instincts, made for the outside. Surely, with so many people out there, he would be safe from the sudden urge to paw himself and to reach the same ecstatic end as those others. He recalled his dreams, now, recalled the great pale swells of stomachs he crawled over, the vast glans of a fellow vulpine that he drank seed from as if it were a sink, a whale of an antelope, her massive ass jiggling as he thrust himself into her. It seemed vivid now, as if the ferret's explosive end was the key to their full recollection.

The fox did not question why his servants were gone, or why his estate looked oddly slimy, now, vast patches of grass covered in puddles. He did not question why with every step, his balls felt heavier. But, when he reached the gate of his property, the gilded iron bars all that stood between him and the street outside, it all came into disastrous focus.

The city was in chaos. Everywhere, people of every sort rutted and masturbated. Cries of pleasure, pleas for help, prayers and curses filled the air, and the stench of arousal was everywhere. Roland felt faint, his eyes roaming over the apocalyptic scene.

A pair of deer, both fat males, scraps of clothing hanging off their bulging, jiggling forms as they rutted in the middle of the road alternated between roaring proclamations of love and insults punctuated by fierce, if brief, attempts to lock antlers in spite of their love-making.

"Oh! Fucking hell... you shithead, we're gonna die!" shrieked the smaller one as the larger buck thrust into him.

"Shut up... shit...I can't.... I can't stop, you...grrr..." the larger grunted, his balls slapping the underside of his victim-combatant-lover's gut.

They oozed cum, thick, slimy stuff that clogged the nearby storm drain. Both looked bigger than hippos, their stomachs containing gallons of semen, their rhythm slowing. When the smaller buck clenched his buttocks and raised his head, grinning wickedly as the deer behind him helplessly shuddered, clapping his paws over his gut as it rose, the sheer backflow of seed matched in force only by the splashing of white between the bottom's moobs, his cock spewing powerfully right unto the pitted asphalt.

The big male squatted on top of the smaller, his balls rising like dough behind him, his belly swelling like a wrinkled, sweaty balloon, trying to pull out even as his clamped dick continued to twitch in unheard of pleasure. As Roland watched, he opened his mouth, gobs of his own cum bubbling up from between his lips, and with a gurgle burst asunder. His partner laughed, humping the ground and his own belly and chest, hugging the gigantic, slick length of his member for a few seconds, before finishing just as impressively as his larger counterpart, the whole jiggling mass of venison and seed detonating with the force of a bomb, his antlers sent flying.

"FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!" chanted a cheetah, her once slender body now resembling something like a whale pregnancy, the wide, white stomach covered in pulsing veins, the flesh tugging uselessly on itself, trying to endure a moment more.

Whatever power gripped her forced her legs apart, and she eagerly called over males. Most could not make it. One look at her mammoth breasts and pumped-up pussy, her enormous, cum-covered belly, and desperate face sent them into a frenzy from which none could break away long enough to reach her. She watched, squirting and cooing in bliss, as they burst one by one. A bull, his hide just strong enough and his willpower barely sufficient, threw himself at her at last, burying a cock as thick as Roland's middle in her.

The cheetah groaned in satisfaction, then flailed and kicked in a panic as the huge male came, overloading her fragile body. Her breasts shooting milk into the sky, the feline's last mewling cries ended with her body splitting apart, leaving the still-cumming bull to stagger backwards, mooing in frustration. Fortunately for him, a couple of bloated vixens struggling to rub against each other in a swollen, ungainly version of scissoring, called him over, and in no time, all three became a mass of wobbling reddening spheres, reeking of climax and sweating in the afternoon sun, before bursting asunder to create a stream of their mingled juices.

"Oooo.... look, a nice, hot fox... plump, too!" a creature Roland did not recognize for a moment crawled up to the gate, making him tear his eyes away from the massive orgy only feet away.

She was Willendorfian in proportion. Motherly, enormous, bigger by far than any creature he had ever seen. Her breasts alone could crush the life out of him, and only her bulging muscles allowed her to move at all. The bear, for that is what she must have started out as, dragged her belly over the ground, sweat and cum providing all the lubrication she needed to move towards him. Her luxurious brown fur would have been beautiful, if it were not for the coating of leaves and other creatures' sex fluids over every inch of her. She smiled, lowering her head, batting her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated manner that left him gulping in confusion and arousal, before grabbing the gate with a heavy paw.

"Come on! Let me in... You know you wanna cover these tits in cum... wanna hot-dog my ass, fuck my face, hump...mmm!" she growled, her words slurring together into bestial noises.

It was clear she was about to finish herself, even without him. Her giant tits puled with her heartbeat, no longer even dripping milk, their contents trapped by the sheer pressure that had closed up her nipples entirely. Her stomach was so big it could easily contain any of the swelling, rutting people behind her, and it gave off noises like a rolling cask of wine, creaking and burbling, shivering with every huffing breath the bear took.

Her paw slipped off the gate, slapping down onto the concrete sidewalk, her eyes bulging. Ass raised in the air, spraying from her pussy lips, she spread her legs, clawing at the air, momentarily resting her whole weight on her thinned-out gut and breasts. Roland raised a paw to shield himself, and she was gone. Hot, bubbling liquid rushed all around him, the vulpine tumbling backwards. When he jumped up, sputtering, wet and stinking of sex, all he could think of was the bear's moan of supreme satisfaction and the terrible, canvas-scraped-by-a-knife sound her skin made before she overloaded and burst.

Others continued their orgies and single-handed suicides of pleasure. Some were absorbed in their own lust, unable to stop touching, massaging, slapping, and pumping until the inevitable pop. Others greedily fed on others, until, like bloated ticks, unable to take another load of milk or seed, they disappeared with an almost comical splash. A few resisted, like Roland, clearly aroused, but continuing to stagger and sweat, rather than succumbing to their desires. These poor souls crawled and waddled away from their weaker, more perverted fellows, until eventually caught.

A horse, his gut shaking as he dragged balls like sacks of sand behind him, cursing as his cock slapped his chest with every step, spurting cum, was caught by a pair of older rats. They rubbed their tits all over him until he burst with a desperate whinny, then slathered themselves with the stallion's cum, until, squeaking and shaking, they reached their own climax.

Roland never felt his own paws close around his cock. As he watched one of the last people left on the street, a massively swollen, shrieking and cursing dalmatian reach his fatal climax, his spotted coat ripping asunder a second later, the fox felt his slight belly gurgle and plump up. A pleasure like a sudden jab in his depths shook his whole body, and he released a pearlescent jet of his cum several feet out unto the street. He could feel the rest, unable to leave his swollen member, pile somewhere in his guts. The fat vulpine never bothered studying anatomy, and he doubted he would have the chance, now, but it felt as if his very essence was building up inside his middle. Bubbling, growing hotter by the minute, fizzing in his brain, driving his cock into his shaking, clenching paws, his own seed was commanding him, now.

Moaning, Roland looked up at the sky. It was streaked with clouds, almost as thick as the stretch marks blooming like strange canyons over the surface of his rapidly expanding stomach. He coughed up something salty, and swallowing it back down, whined with ever-increasing desire. Shapes in the sky resolved into scenes of rapturous sex acts. The fox saw himself rutting vixens and mounting other todds, saw himself driving into the bear that had popped so impressively moments ago, even saw glimpses of himself with the ferret, worshiping the unfortunate, sexy weasel's ballsack, rubbing his face over the enormous, hot scrotum.

Then, the clouds swirled, and he saw Tiyaphon. The creature made all others Roland could imagine disappear. The fox felt himself rising, straddling his balls, his gut squishing into the gate as he continued to use both paws to pleasure his fat cock. Whether it was a vision or the truth, all the swelling vulpine could think of was him.

Roland, grown too big, cried out to the god-monster floating among the clouds, smiling serenely at the chaos below. But, no mercy came. Instead, the fox's body shook in place, his paws twitching, his toes curling in one last, massive release, and he popped. In the place where his fluffy, shivering tail landed, the creature he unleashed unto the world landed, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Poor fool couldn't hold back. Oh, well. Time to start gathering the swollen, sex-addled mortals that remain. They will serve well as my harem..." he grinned, picking up Roland's tail, and set off down the street, his perfect, taloned feet splashing through the slimy remains of thousands of popped creatures.