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The puma awakened to just a little too much light in the room. It had been a later night than usual. He'd spent more time with that tiger than he'd expected. What started as a quick errand turned into a long discussion once he noticed the tiger's... unusual proportions. He couldn't help but approach and ask about it. He had some unusual anatomy as well and it made him bold.

So what started as pure curiosity driven happenstance turned into an hours-long commitment with curiosity about the tiger's physical condition leading to interest in experiencing it. The tiger had been very willing to help give him experience his unique issues. First hand no less. There would be some side effects, supposedly, but the tiger had been super elusive about what they would be. Something about a lack of control, but the striped feline refused to get into details.

And here he was now, awake and with little more than a vague promise that SOMETHING would happen. Oh well, the supposed help didn't cost anything. No harm. No foul. He yawned hard and stretched, sabre fangs gleaming in a stray sunbeam that leaked through the shades. He gives his rounded paunch a light rub, purring at the sensation, but soon finds the first indication that something did indeed happen. His attention turns downward and green eyes widen in surprise and delight.

His hand was stopped by his sheath which now extended well up his torso, catching on that strip of pelt holding it close to his body. Sure no one would deny wanting a little more down below, but this? This was an improvement! A many-times-bigger improvement. The saber toothed cat couldn't help but explore, sliding his splayed fingers over the surface of the furry tube and down to cup his orbs. All four were there, but bigger. Much bigger. But he was concerned about the strange swell at the base of his sheath. That certainly wasn't there before.

The cat sits up quickly to give himself a better inspection when another change makes itself known. Despite sitting up, his sheath remains in bed, angled on its side where he found it. His arms shoot out in surprise to try and recover his balance when his sheath frenulum draws tight and tries to yank him back down. Was it really that heavy? The way it sank into the mattress certainly make it seem that it was, and the test tug that followed proved it. How heavy was this thing? How heavy was he so that he wasn't pulled atop it as it sank into the bed?

He grins at the thought. He'd imagined now and then of being heavy, dense and unmovable by his sheer mass. A fun thought, but just a fantasy. But now here he was, living that fantasy. He had to know how this felt properly. He leans back down, rolling over his heavy sheath to wrap his arms around it. It was heavy and stubborn, but again to the puma's delight, he found he had the strength to lift it. His body, thickened with padded muscle that wasn't there the night before, bulged with the effort of pulling his endowment properly upright. Beneath, the bed groaned in warning protest.

Whatever that bulge was at his sheath base, it provided a great grip for his efforts. Easy to wrap his arms under to help with the lift. It was an effort even with his increased strength, but oh what a feeling! He braces himself and adjust his leg stance. His arm grip around his sheath tightens and he heaves himself to his feet, grunting with the effort of hauling his sheath into the air. The bed releases another groan of relief which makes him only grin wider.

He had to experience the rest of his body, but first, he needed to get out of this room. His sheath took up most of his front now, especially with him hugging it so tightly. He resists giving it a nuzzle but makes an attempt to peer past it to watch his next steps. He finds the attempt futile, even if it weren't for the huge bulge at the sheath base ensuring his line of sight would be blocked, the sheer size of his new maleness blocked his view of his feet. Oh well. What could happen? He takes his first step only to find how radically his center of balance has changed.

Immediately he teeters and his paw comes down fast as he tries to catch himself. Pawpads meet the floor with a crash and the floor beneath them cracks and buckles, giving away and adding to his imbalance. Two surprises at once. He swings his arms out to try and catch himself, but that only ensures his fall. That hyperdense sheath drops. A half second later he crashes forward. His hands stop him from fully falling, leaving their own indentations in the floor, but that sheath doesn't stop. It pounds the ground fully and craters into the floor with a resounding boom and a billow of broken dust.

He groans and shivers. The fall wasn't painful, but that impact... THAT sent sensations tingling all over. The crater tightens around that sheath as it plumps with the stimulation. Oh... oh gods... that was a feeling unlike anything he'd known before. He takes several minutes to recover, resisting the urge to pursue exploring the countless possibilities that rushed into his head. He should at least get to someplace less breakable. Steeled with focus, he once again works to lift that impossibly heavy sheath.

He digs, squeezes, squirms, and shoves his hands around that fleshy tube, but just can't seem to get a grip. Not only that, all that unintended stimulation only tightened the situation. He had to lift it up somehow to even get his fingers in place. In desperation he tries one last thing, thrusting forward. Sure enough, he's able to get that base moved ever so slightly as he pushes and lifts his hips. Despite the awkward angle, he gets his fingers underneath, first one hand and then the other. Triumph! Bit by bit, wiggling, waddling and dragging, he gets himself lifted shakily.

His triumph is short lived as the broken floor, unable to hold the strain of all that mass on the space of two paws, breaks again, collapsing under those pads. He yelps in surprise and, unable to compensate due to the bad leverage, drops that anchoring sheath once again. Once again, that sheath crashes into the ground, cratering the hole even deeper. He doesn't even have a moment to get to his hands and knees before the cracked foundation gives beneath that dense sheath. It slides in deeper, flowing through the hole in the concrete like water, sliding into the compacted earth underneath. It thrusts down, pushing aside the less supportive earth effortlessly with its mass as it tries to sink. He panics for a moment but that passes as soon as he feels his hips press to the floor, stopping the forceful pull of his manhood.

But now he had this new problem. He was pinned to the floor. He squirms and twists to try and pull and lift his sunken anchor, but there just isn't the leverage anymore. There was too much weight at his hips, and that stretchy thread between his torso and that heavy sheath was making it that much harder. The thrusting and pulling still have an effect and despite the inconvenience of the situation, and he couldn't get the thought out of his head that he was literally humping the floor.

The idea makes him blush, and the flush rushes to his groin, already tingling with the tightness and sensations of being snugly inserted and shoved around. Even though it was unseen, he could still feel his erection start to thrust into the ground below, the power of his shaft plowing the ground easily which only added to the stimulation. He's pulled back to the reality of his situation when he feels his hips shift upward. He was pushing himself out! This was his chance to get free.

He braces himself and, encouraged by slight pressure upward, he heaves his arms and legs against the floor to lift. Only to find resistance. His gaze turns toward his base. Was that a... a knot? That huge bulge in his sheath was a knot? The answer comes with a rapidly building tightness as the huge bulge inflates into the ring of concrete and wedges there. It could have inflated above or below, but it just swelled up right in the middle of it. The pressure and tightness builds rapidly. He was still hardening up down below, but now that knot wanted to follow suit. The floor hole cracks and crumbles as it tries to conform to the pressure pushed out by the trapped swell. Each snap sends tingles all through that inflating bulb which encourages it to blow up faster. He can't help but reach his paws down to his groin as the sensations intensify, making him squirm and twitch. But there's no room. It can't swell any bigger. Or so it seemed.

A loud crack resounds as the foundation suddenly cracks again, much more deeply this time. A huge shock travels through the entire house, but also straight into that knot as it frees itself from entrapment. Now free to expand, that huge bulge rises out of the shattered floor, bulging outward wildly like two angry red balloons, carrying the hapless cat upward. He arches his back, crying out at the shock, and pleasure. His shaft is completely hidden, but that massive, and growing knot is impossible to miss as it pushes him into the air.

The powerful knot effortlessly pushes aside the shards of broken foundation as it rises. He feels it tightening again as, still half embedded in the earth, the new larger hole soon finds itself too small. Once again your endowment is at odds with the foundation as it's not deep enough or shallow enough for that knot to slip either way... the edge of the hole crumbles slightly but is soon like a stone ring around the middle of that knot once more, throbs against the surrounding earth, grinding in with each pulse.

The knot serves its purpose, remaining squeezed and held by the floor which allows for his shaft down more. Or it does for a short while. Tighter and tighter that ring gets before it soon fails with an even more powerful crack than before. Slabs of the floor bounce and scatter off with the force of his knot's release. Another surge of swelling follows, pushing the rest of the rubble aside. How much bigger was this thing?

Thankfully, not that much bigger, but the sensation changes subtly. He was finally fully erect, but it seems stronger, almost. Despite the shock of the destroyed foundation that still tingles throughout his endowment, he was starting to feel... uncomfortably tight. Was he.... ? Was he still trying to get erect? His swelling had slowed down, sure, but the pressure inside didn't. The expanse, well past his ability to reach around now and so much bigger than even what his starting bulge suggested, starts to creak and groan as despite what his body was telling him. He was hard, but it was trying to get harder. Inch by inch he continues to swell.

His urgency builds and becomes feverish. Desperately, he hugs onto that massive knot. It is... electrically delicate. It's already way bigger than it should be and the added strain only increases its sensitivity. The simple hug rushes wildly over that knot and a massive creak resounds from all over it as it continues to harden impossibly from the hyper stimulation. It's almost painful... and... a moment later it is. That alarming ache of pressure and the overwhelming pleasurable urgency to breed. Can it take more? Can HE take more?

He whines at the incredible feeling, that knot taking over, taking control as it grows. The feel of it growing harder and harder is overwhelming, too much for him. But too much or not, he can't stop it! There is no chance... the pressure increases the pleasure, which increases the pressure, which increases the pleasure. He strains and creaks as inch after impossible inch is forced out of that knot until several agonizing moments pass with nothing but a deepening creaking. But that creaking also settles and he can feel that knot groan low, trembling with a pressure that can't find a place to go. He... He really can't stop it... he can't! Harder! HARDER! HARDER!

He lies atop that knot, desperately gripping it. It feels harder than the concrete it shattered, no longer having any give at all. And still it strains and pulses, struggling still to push bigger beyond its bounds, the pressure immense. A thought crosses his mind.

He.... He was going to pop!

Time stands still as the puma strains strain... this it... and suddenly he bursts. But not! His release slams into you, intense as expected except there's a difference He feels a rush of energy into him. A rush like... a tiger? He barely registers the sensations as he helplessly writhes against his own knot, banging the oversensitive swell with his hips as his entire endowment dominates his ability to move, forcing him to thrust and buck wildly. But not a drop escapes below. Instead, the pressurized ring around your knot sensation returns in surges...

You can't be...

THRUST!

You can't....

HEAVE!

You are...

SLAM!

The rest of the floor erupts as he grows... and grows... and grows! Each thrust brings a surge. Each surge brings even more tightness as he tries to grow into the ground. Each helpless thrust brings a wave of pleasure as he slaps the thin surface of his impossible endowment. Is this what the tiger has to deal with whenever he releases?

He howls and squirms, hands thumping against that knot. It's too much! Way too much! And yet, not enough. No release, no help. More pleasure and more pressure comes as ground and concrete crumbles away around him. His shaft plunges deeper, unseen, as that knot somehow just gets bigger and impossibly tighter.

But each pound of his hands just sends bolts of stimulation rushing through the steel hard surface of the burgeoning swell beneath him. Still he grows. Each slap of his hand, each squeeze of concrete sends electric pressure into his groin, and brings with it an addition to that urgency that will not abate. He feels his growth slow, at last. How much bigger was he? He couldn't tell. The room holds. He can sense the ceiling at his back, the walls closing in on his impossible organ, the knot finally free of the earth but now filling the room, that thread of connection to his sheath pulled fully up to his collar. There's a respite from the forced thrusting of his hips, but that pressure from before returns, rising rapidly. Faster this time. Urgent. Building! Release! NOW!

He squirms more, unable to stop rubbing at that knot below him. That urge builds, making him release his voice in helpless moans. Greater, stronger, more insistent. He tries to thrust, but that's difficult when that organ has far, far more mass than the rest of him. Those continued thrusts and rubbing rises that urgency even faster. Too fast.

He feels that urgency reach a breaking point... and then break through. Past the physical strain twisting inside him. Past his immensity. Past any ability to keep it contained. There's... there's something wrong... He bucks again, gripped by the uncontrollable thrusting of an orgasm once more. But instead of a rush of seed, he instead feels the thread of his sheath, already pulled too high from before, start to pull even higher. Problematically high.

Pleasure, pressure, tightness, strain. Uncomfortable, more than uncomfortable, and also incredibly stimulating. A rush of pleasure as that climax rises inside him only to have that blessed relief snatched away as he begins to grow

The pressure returns and then closes in on him in bursts. One buck and he feels the walls against his knot. Another buck and his back brushes the ceiling. Another buck... and another... and another... everything closes in. He's growing again. He was massive and huge already, but impossibly, he's growing again. The tiger never grew a second time! Or had he? Had he even mentioned it? But he can't even focus long enough to remember anything beyond these last few minutes. And so he grows on. It's overwhelming. He can't think. He can't stop it. Sinking deeper yet rising higher. Ceiling pressing down, walls too narrow as he grows further.

Bigger and bigger he surges. He can feel yourself growing faster than before. This growth spurt building on the last just mere moments ago. The air squeezes from him as the weight of the building presses down from above. Trapped. Harder to breathe, harder to move.

Then a crack and snap sounds from below your knot surges free, snapping the walls outward like so many toothpicks. Like before, the trapped pressure releases in a surge. Debris crashes around, rubbing, bumping, squeezing that impossible swell. Even the sun's touch and the gentle breeze overwhelms that overstretched skin as the building slides away and exposes him to the air. And even still he swells. He can barely move, as his own sheath starts to tie him down. Below he can feel the last of the foundation start to give under his knot, the rest of his shaft lost somewhere below.

He can feel the expansion start to slow for the second time. And for a second time the pressure surges deep from inside his groin and out into every fiber of his endowment. That need to release, that urgency, that strain, that sudden sensation of nearly bursting explodes from within between one pulse of his racing heart and another. So much pressure, so much strain. His body is strong, but still helpless to do anything but ride his growing knot. He rocks desperately as the sensations grow too strong. Something has to give, possibly him, and he relishes it.

There's an eternal moment. He's trapped, pulled against his own sheath, unable to do anything but that weak rocking. It sends shivers over that knot, but it's outgrown him. He can't service it anymore. His efforts are useless. It no longer belongs to him, but him to it, helpless to its dominance and impotent to service its demands. His pelt stretches only enough for you to push away a scant few precious inches from its adamantine surface. How big is it? He couldn't even turn his head properly enough to guess. But he could feel that release coming. Blessed, blissful release, come how it may.

But then a sudden crack. One deep, down below underneath that knot. That God Knot

Its density, its mass. Even as huge as it was, that was not normal. It was -- is -- too massive, far heavier than it should be. The earth below starts to cry out, collapsing underneath the mass of that knot. He felt his hidden shaft surge with pleasure as the shuddering earth rumbles into it. That approaching release comes faster. Yes!

But too fast. Just like before. It couldn't... he couldn't! It can't! A sick CRACK sounds, a crack like mountains breaking. The helpless feline feels himself drop wildly down, stopped briefly as the Knot slams the ground. The pleasure careens past the point of no return and that terrible dread returns. Another crack follows and he feels himself fall again. The sensations on his shaft are indescribable, but nothing compared to what the God Knot demands he feels. Once again he bucks, or rather, tries. He writhes and squirms, strains and heaves as he tries to orgasm again only to fail. That terrible tightness returns and he feels himself growing even faster this time as it compounds on the last two surges.

Somewhere in his mind he realizes he growing much too big. As that sheath spreads up further, completely locking him in place, face trapped against that Knot he realises dimly: it is in control, there is no doubt of that. He doesn't carry his sheath, it carries him. And that Knot. That God Knot. Not just dense, but so much more. He feels himself drawn to it like gravity, as though he wasn't stuck enough already. If he could burst, he surely would. How could I not at this point? So much, too much. Past the point of no return many times, and yet not one iota of release to be had. And each time that pressure, that need, grows worse and worse.

Hidden away, he feels his shaft, denser, by far, than the stone that engulfs it, grow in surges. It thrusts itself down finding its way into deep, warm envelopes in the hidden caches of the world... and then keeps going. Deeper, deeper, deeper, all held in place by that Knot. It, too, surges outward, but the earth has capitulated. With each swell it yields further, allowing the God Knot to shove down harder and harder. Not even it's own power could keep it from sinking. Swaths of the deepening crater slide in as he grows, helplessly.

His pelt stretches more and more as the Knot remains unrelenting in its demands. You must give it more. All of you if you must! The stretch pulls his limbs pull out and leaves him spread eagle on the end of his sheath. He feels the skin between his fingers and his toes pull out as the Knot takes even that barest hint of movement from his helpless host, as it surges to its last. Even his eyes have been pulled tight and shut. He can barely breathe, squeezed and stretched and nearly absorbed into his own sheath by the unrelenting greed of that God Knot.

But finally at long last he feels the God's growth slow. He can barely register the earth packed around his useless pinned limbs. Every tiny little bit of that sheath has been buried. The God Knot has tied, and the earth? It's dominated partner.

The familiar and even more unmanageable and overwhelming pressure returns once again. The Knot, buried as it is, still feels... unsatisfied. Its demands bring around an urgency that he can't resist. Service me, it demands. Service me! He is at the mercy of his own organ. There is a moment of deep pride at tying with the planet, but it is not enough. He would be thrusting if he could, but he can't move. Even his fingers are immobile, forced to clutch at the Knot. He worships it, desperate to service it, to give it the satisfaction long denied. Tied to the very planet, but the pressure is not enough. As though the very earth is too yielding.

And so the God Knot is denied. There is nothing more for it to take. It demands, it urges, it threatens. But then, for the first time since the beginning of the ascension he is suddenly aware again of the sudden size, weight, and presence of the source of his true virility. The Four assert themselves in a surge that he is just as incapable of controlling. But unlike the God Knot, The Four use him not as a source, but as their vessel. The four have been neglected, forgotten, and denied. But no longer. Too many climaxes with no relief, and now they take over. Or attempt to. A powerful quadruple release. Their tsunami crashes through him and he feels yourself swell deep inside as the God Knot refuses to relent its dominance. The Four release. The Knot denies. And between them is the cat, helpless between the warring titans and the sole recipient of his own seed. His pelt drawn tight and flat by that sheath begins to reverse. That seed forces inward, to fill him, finding the only space between him and that sheath and knot. A new swell appears, growing stretching. Forced into existence by the conflict of those titanic Four versus the God Knot.

His body has so little left to give, but these three vying gods demand everything, and more! The heat within builds as the Four churn out hotter and hotter fluid in an attempt to push through the Knot's blockade. It radiates, making you gasp for air, with the Belly flushing as it fills. It rolls over, bending the powerless cat backwards as his hips are anchored by his endowment but not so his torso. It presses down heavy and hot as it rolls over the Four and pushes down, the ground below giving another warning shudder. His thinning pelt shudders likewise as his Belly balloons larger and larger, smothering the four with its thick roiling mass.

Seconds seem like hours as the abused feline, now well dominated by these three unrelenting forces, feels that last deity fill to its limit as the Knot did before. His limits were tested and broken repeatedly. But this final test, he could feel there was truly no more that he could give. The last his consciousness registers is the God Knot finally relenting, overwhelmed as he was and finally giving way to Release. His seed is planted. Planted deep inside the earth perhaps, but planted. The pressure of the Belly was still increasing as the Four refused to cease. But his consciousness finally slips surrounded by a trembling landscape unable to handle the unexpected pressure below.