Twenty-five minutes out from Hazel's sudden growth spurt, most of Ventus had already been evacuated. With the exception of the Math & Science Center, every building, common space and parking lot on campus was empty—and as the 200-foot buck-toothed gooner surveyed her new domain, she couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment. After all, she thought, half the fun of being this big was lording over everyone else... and who were her classmates to refuse to play along?
"Buncha prudes," scoffed Hazel, rising from the wreckage of the MSC and brushing a generous quantity of rubble and flattened students & faculty off her huge, jiggling rump.
Still buried in the crack of her ass, stirred by the motion of her cheeks, Max finally worked up the courage to speak. "W-what was that, Hazel?"
By some miracle of science, perhaps an interaction between two of the depraved genius's serums, the two undergrads were still able to hear each other.
"Everyone's gone." Hazel shrugged. "So I guess we're going into town!"
"O-oh..." stammered Max. "D-do you think that's a good idea?"
"Relax, miniguy," Hazel giggled, giving her cheeks an affectionate clench around her assistant. "You'll be fine."
Feeling the bottom-heavy giantess's blubbery buttocks pressing against him, Max swallowed hard. It wasn't his own safety he was concerned for.
*
On a good day, the drive from Ventus to downtown San Trasero took about thirty minutes—but for Hazel, it was now walking distance. Stomping off campus and into the surrounding suburbs, leaving nothing but flattened houses, cars and pedestrians in her wake, the 200-foot-tall gooner began carving a swath of devastation toward the center of the bustling Southern California metropolis in no time at all.
By now, Hazel's rampage was worldwide news. The internet was filled with theories regarding her origin, and the several hundred Ventus students and faculty members who'd managed to escape her first big goon sesh were finding a wide audience for their anecdotes about her. Naturally, the majority of humanity seemed to view the giant gassy young woman's ascendance as an unambiguously bad development—although a vocal army of fellow gooners, NEETs, incels and femcels were already defending her actions in the comments of every relevant post and video.
Of course, Hazel didn't care about any of that—and even if she had, there wasn't a phone or computer in the world big enough for her to check her mentions. For her, being big wasn't about going viral or taking over the world. It was just her way of acting out all the depraved, horny fantasies she'd spent most of her teens gooning to—and if the rest of humanity had a problem with that, she didn't give a shit. Not yet, at least, she thought, feeling a telltale rumble in her gut and chuckling.
While this was happening, Max remained trapped in his usual prison, jostled back and forth with every step. After a week of Hazel's usual sedentary lifestyle, being back here while she was moving around so much was strange. Part of him, the part that was growing increasingly resigned to the possibility that he was never, ever going to escape this giant depraved woman, was already nostalgic for the quiet predictability of her room.
BBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
As yet another massive fart blasted out of the giantess's ass, washing over his comparatively tiny form before rushing out into the world beyond, he shuddered. Somehow, despite all the massive gusts she'd forced out of her rump in the last half hour, he still hadn't fallen out—and well aware that the drop from her ass to the ground would probably kill him, he was very thankful for that. Hazel's huge, filthy crack was far from the most pleasant place in the world, but it beat falling to his death by a long shot.
Outside, as Hazel's latest fart wafted down to ground level, the few pedestrians unlucky enough to be in range were sent crumpling to their knees, coughing and gagging. True to the giant genius's earlier hunch, the serum she'd used to grow had, in fact, made significant changes to her digestive system—making it even more productive than ever before and making the resulting farts even stronger and smellier. Between that and her apparent nigh-invulnerability to all forms of physical harm — given that she'd turned the biggest, strongest building at Ventus into a pile of rubble and bent steel without sustaining a single scratch — she was nothing short of a walking bioweapon.
Within ten minutes, the one and two-story residential neighborhoods of the San Trasero suburbs had given way to the midrise buildings and skyscrapers of the downtown core. Finally surrounded by structures that gave her a little competition in the height department, Hazel couldn't resist the temptation to check herself out in the mirror of one such building, a glass-walled office complex a little under three-quarters her size. Turning around and watching her own butt jiggle on the mirrored facade, she grinned. It almost seemed like her growth serum had added a little extra curve to her already curvy figure.
Meanwhile, inside the office complex, several hundred people were frozen in terror. The huge, curvy girl seemingly flaunting her curves in their comparatively tiny faces was clearly the same one who was all over the news right now. Weirder still, barely visible within the crack of her ass, was the diminutive young man buried between her immense cheeks—who seemed to be signaling to them, quite frantically, in some way that wasn't clear.
"Get out!" Screaming at the top of his lungs, Max was doing his best to warn the people behind his captor that they were in serious danger. Unfortunately, much to his dismay, none of them seemed to understand him—and by the time a few of them finally started realizing what he was saying, it was too late.
BBBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP
Bracing himself as another colossal blast of rancid air thundered out of Hazel's asshole, Max watched in dismay as the vast mirrored facade shattered like it was made of sugar glass. The resulting shock wave was enough to knock most of the people inside to the floor—and as the accompanying smell began to creep in, most of them stayed down.
"Geez!" Hazel giggled, turning around to survey the damage of her latest fart and grinning. "They really don't build stuff like they used to, do they?"
Before she could say more, she was cut off by a growl from her stomach—and she remembered that she hadn't had a thing to eat since last night.
"Hmm," she said, eyeing the several hundred people inside the building and stepping forward. "Looks like you guys are the only thing on the menu right now..."
Extending a hand into the ruined structure, she plucked out a handful of helpless office workers—the closest cluster unlucky enough to get away in time. As they struggled to climb off her hand, only to realize there was nowhere to go but down, she offered them a conciliatory — if slightly aroused — smile.
"Sorry, guys," she said, already drooling a little. "I know this seems like a raw deal. But the thing is. I'm hungry. And I'm horny. And I've always had a huge vore fetish. So... y'know."
"A what?" One of the men on her hand, unable to process what he was hearing, looked up with utter disbelief.
"A vore fetish," scoffed Hazel. "Y'know. People eating people?" Seeing the total lack of recognition — or perhaps just sheer terror — on her victims' faces, she rolled her eyes. "Fuckin' normies... alright, whatever, here goes."
Before anyone on the buck-toothed giantess's hand could do anything to talk her out of her plan, she put it into action. Dumping them into her mouth and swishing them around with her big, eager tongue, she savored their frantic struggles for several seconds before the urge to swallow got the better of her. Then, in a single triumphant gulp, she banished her latest victims to her stomach.
"Ahhh," she said, patting her gut and leaning back toward the bombed-out building. "That hit the spot... but I could use a little more..."
Over the next few minutes, the helpless workers inside the office would soon discover that Hazel's definition of "a little more" was at least six dozen regular-sized people. Gleefully digging into the office like an economy size bag of Hot Cheetos with one hand and vigorously rubbing her clit with the other, the giant chubby gooner was in heaven. If this was what she could look forward to on any average day at 200 feet tall, she never wanted to go back.
Following ten or twenty handfuls of office workers and at least one orgasm, she was finally satisfied—and based on the bloated feeling in her stomach, she could already tell she'd overdone it. "Ugh," she groaned, letting out a big, greasy burp and eyeing those who remained in the ruined complex. "Why didn't you guys stop me from going back for seconds?"
After watching the depraved giantess turn most of their coworkers into lunch while gooning herself silly, the building's few surviving occupants were too shell-shocked for words. At the same time, hearing all of this happen from the crack of Hazel's ass, Max felt more terrified than ever—but knew that this was probably not the time to push his giant captor for mercy. When he finally felt her starting to walk again, after going back for at least one more handful of the office, he hesitated to imagine what she'd get up to next.