Ivory Tower

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She wasn’t just too big to fit into one of those pathetic balls, she was too good for them. Her “trainer” had seen to that. Made her better. Transcendant of her once-lowly nature. No more would Oyena indulge in the comforts offered her by technology. With her boundaries shattered, the pearlescent psychic could look upon trainers and balls only with contempt and disgust.

At her own… partner? Liberator? She was uncertain how to think. What could motivate him to grant her such potential? So difficult to read. Oyena files it away for later consideration.

That was the first thing she’d noticed, aside from the breasts and other physical alterations. Her mind wouldn’t shut up. Incessant, hard-headed inquisitiveness. She had to think! Constantly! About everything! Such deep questions to plumb and abstracts to consider, endeavors her feeble monster mind could never have dared to pursue before! “I am doomed to be a philosopher,” Oyena thought.

Right, the breasts. Beastly partner, hers. Burdening her with these colossal orbs. Everyone stared, now. Everyone except him, though tracking his gaze had always been difficult. He changed her feet, too. Now she had proper ones, with five toes and a heel for each and everything. Much easier to walk on those, and feeling the ground underfoot all the time was a pleasant and curious sensation. And hips! What a card. She looked a bit like some of the trainers now, though she retained her smooth, ivory skin.

Her crimson eyes blinked down at her partner. He was tall, but not twenty feet tall. His voice carried easily upwards, though it was amusing to watch him crane his neck back to make eye contact. “It sounds like you’re ready, then,” he said with a fiendish grin. The prospect of setting her loose thrilled him. It was cute, and Oyena smiled back. “Yes. I’m ready to end the games.”

“This is gonna be the biggest thing that’s ever happened to this world.”

1.

Oyena’s step rattles the ground. The earth is unused to such a large creature striding upon it, with very few monsters larger than the Gardevoir – at twenty feet, most of the world’s legendary beasts would have to look up at her. The minor quake of her every movement seems to please her partner.

Both stop short of the cavern entrance. Both knew it well – this was the path leading to the tournament. Inside, champion hopefuls gathered to hone themselves in preparation for the fights of their lives. Their monsters would be strong, experienced, and hard-hitting, though not so much as the elites in the championship series itself. The first obstacle before the two, however, was the cavern entrance itself.

Nobody over seven feet tall had needed to pass through it before. Her partner would be able to hunch down and get through with some effort, but the giantess is puzzled. Monsters that had to enter would do so in their horrible containment capsules, but this was no option for Oyena. She rests one hand agaisnt the rock face over the entrance.

“Your psychic abilities have already far surpassed your former potential,” her partner says.

She peers down at him, then takes a tentative step back from the cavern entrance, thinking. Any of her species could employ simple telekinesis. Perhaps brute force would suffice here? Her chest rises with a long inhalation, and one hand lifts towards the rock. With a sharp release of air, Oyena throws her arm to the side. Her will congeals, her focus on pounding through the rock.

With a sound like cannonfire, the stone explodes. A hundred thousand fragments of shattered rock burst outwards from the wall, showering the duo. Neither is phased by the sudden torrent of projectiles, even as they clatter loudly against the ground. Both, however, are taken aback at the sheer power the taller of them had just demonstrated. The once-tight cavern entrance was now a gaping column of darkness, welcoming to even Oyena’s enormous figure. The rock face had been permanently disfigured at a single, focused strike. The giantess examines her hand, as if it had held the power instead of merely directed it.

She then sets her fingers between her breasts, sweeping a few caught chunks of rock out. Her partner’s attention is briefly seized as her gargantuan chest quivers. She expressionlessly notes that he might be weaker to her than he lets on. That could be useful later, she considers, before returning her gaze to the newly improved cavern entrance with a satisfied grin. “You’re right,” she responds. He notices that she seems just a bit taller than before.

Thunder crashes through the cavern, the sound of mighty beasts sparring to unconsciousness. A dozen aspirants, each with a small army of well-discplined monsters. “Subservients,” Oyena thinks, venomous disgust dripping from the engine of her enlightened cognition. Light streams into the underground, casting the giantess’ hourglass silhouette over a long-reaching shadow. Only upon casting her gaze downward does she realize someone stands within it.

He looks like a beast himself. Similar to her own partner, with the wings, the tail, the fangs. He’s unmistakably a trainer, though, holding one of those horrible prisons at the ready. He’d been watching and waiting since she made her improvements to the cavern entrance. Poor lad’s trembling, losing ground to his own fear as he slowly paces backwards. Obviously, he’d never seen such a tall psychic before, but he’s just as lost to his lust as to her size. His gaze is always nailed to her enormous breasts, or her plump hips, or her big, thumping feet. Oyena’s starting to see a pattern with men. Her partner is the first to speak up. “You gonna fight, or what?”

The trainer responds with a shiver, then a crank of his right arm. The prison releases its inhabitant, and the cavern rumbles again.

It’s another ivory psychic, though nothing like Oyena – this one is like a vast dragon, nearly as tall as she, with gargantuan wing-hands and permanently angry eyes. A creature of legend. Regardless of its legendary status, it remains bound to a servant’s existence.

The other trainer clenches his fist and grins with hope as his beast’s mental might lifts twenty tons of rock into the air, its great power radiating in palpable pulses from its head. All around the four, everything from pebbles to chunks of earth torn from the ground is lifted from its resting position. All at once, the stone arsenal is hurled towards Oyena. She makes no move.

Every unworthy particle that touches her pure skin is devoured, passing through her like a soul into the afterlife. Her stoic form consumes all which dares make contact, leaving boulders larger than her sheared in two as they are robbed of their middle sections. Oyena absorbs it all without effort, and in return, she is made grander. The giantess grows with every morsel, with the larger chunks spiking her height to even greater numbers. She’s forced to sit down, crammed between floor and ceiling, as her body explodes from twenty feet tall to over triple that. Her long legs flank her opponent on both sides by necessity, and her wide grin hangs over beast and trainer like a death sentence. “That wasn’t very effective,” she coos in faux disappointment. Fights throughout the rest of the cavern slow to a halt as men and monsters take notice.

For her hunched-over retaliation, she shifts one leg, swiftly pinning the outsized monster beneath her immaculate sole. It writhes to escape, but its body is only twice as large as one of Oyena’s feet. When she pulls in the other and burdens the beast with both, it’s firmly held underfoot. With a slight tilt of her head, she cutely waves her toes at the trainer, who falls to his knees in a combination of concession, desire, and disbelief. He’d trained this monster for years, grown a tremendous bond with it, only for both of them to be humiliated. Watching it struggle just to move an inch under the psychic’s feet is heart-wrenching, but deep within, he is grasped by Oyena’s beauty.

His struggle with his monster’s predicament and his struggle with Oyena’s colossal feminine charms both worsen as she begins to trample the legend. Her delicate soles alternate lifting, then smashing down on her opponent, their weighty, plush masses beating it into the ground. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. It feebly roars in protest, the sound cut off with the next footfall. First, it bruises, an unhealthy blue rising to the surface where she pounds her feet upon it. It begins to sickeningly crack under the weight of Oyena’s stomps when its trainer finally withdraws it into its prison – much to the giantess’ displeasure. She scowls down at the dragon, lifting him into the air with sheer force of mind. “I wasn’t done with your pet,” she smoothly states, before telekinetically yanking the spherical prison out of his grasp.

Without hesitation, she pulls the tiny ball towards her mouth. Her red tongue licks once across her upper lip, then plucks it from the air. The monster would be recuperating in its confines – but that wasn’t her intended end for the beast. Oyena positions the cell between her molars and clamps her jaws shut, crunching the ball into smithereens. With a dainty swallow, she sighs in bliss.

The suspended trainer, forced to watch all of this take place, is a sobbing mess. His beloved pet was dead, and there was certainly no hope for him.

The giantess notes his broken state and mind-pulls him closer. “There there,” she says in seductive mockery. “I know what’ll cheer you up.” Her mind guides her floating victim towards her bust, towards the two colossal orbs that each outsize the dragon. He’s pressed into her cleavage, and subsequently disappears between her breasts. “You just need a hug,” she teases, pushing her hands at the sides of her chest. All that results is a wet, muffled crunch and a barely-noticeable pulse of growth. Oyena giggles deeply at the thought that this is but the beginning.

She crawls out from the tight edge of the cavern to stand in the middle, where she can stretch to her full height. Trainers left and right scramble to evacuate the cavern before they’re next, but only one gets out before the psychic conjures barriers of light at both exits. “Oh no,” she smiles sweetly, her powerful, girly voice reverberating through the flesh and bone of her captive audience. “None of you are leaving this place alive.”

2.

At such a condemnation, one of the trainers calls out to the gardevoir. “Please, there’s no need for bloodshed,” he reasons.

Oyena tilts her head in thought for a moment, the breath stolen from trainers and monsters as they await her response. Every muscle tenses, all but for those of Oyena’s and her partner’s. Twin crimson eyes study the trainer and his trembling charizard from on high. The poor beast looks certain of its doom, however ignorant of the method. “You’re right,” she upticks condescendingly. Her gaze fills with light, her eyes burning purple with the exertion of psychic power. Before the cavern’s congregation, the trainer and fire-type begin to dwindle. “I don’t have to spill your blood at all.”