The deep clarity of Circle Lake’s surface was colored by the dusk sky it reflected, a plane of tranquil webb and flow, a wide pool of mana often harvested for the studies to the Mage’s Academy a kilometer north. The perfect place, and the perfect time; Nova Neverwing had only this window of opportunity to make her dreams a reality. It had become her only passion, that vision of usurping the Councilmages that operated the Academy -- it was they that had banished her from that school and disgraced her name the month before, for having dared to practice the forbidden magics. They feared that such magic could warp a mage into succumbing to dark compulsions, allowing hatred to invoke a chaotic will.
Nova spat at their weakness. As an expelled outcast, it became her commitment to prove them terribly wrong, to unveil what true magical power was like. Nova’s heart had fallen into that which she had been warned, into the grasp of obsession and revenge.
Consumed by this hatred, Nova was driven to accomplish what no lone mage was ever expected to achieve. It was only by her madness that she could conduct a ritual as complicated as the one she had arranged: a summoning spell, which would reach into the depths of hell and conjure a demon servant for her to command. By herself, she hovered across the outer ring of Circle Lake atop her broom -- to one-hundred exact points apart, where she chanted one-hundred prayers, a process that culminated exactly at sunset. If all had been prepared correctly, she would only need to cast the summoner’s ruby into the lake’s center to have her demon.
The grueling repetition had left Nova weary and breathless. By its end, she could barely maintain balance on the broom, moving through the air as if dragged by an unseen force. Stamina had always been a flaw for her; she was physically weak, and thus so reliant on magic, allegedly cursed with a thin and feeble body that lacked outstanding features. Indeed, she was easy to overlook in the busy halls of the Academy, often blending into the shadows with messy-long black hair that cloaked her upper body. She hunched and hid herself often, shy and meek, disadvantaged with an unapproachable demeanor; when she was banished by the Councilmages, she cast the blame unto a supposed bias against her, that it was punishment against her for trying to become more powerful outside the Academy’s teachings. It had only been a month since her expulsion, yet Nova carried the burden as if it had been years.
Soon enough, however, would she prove the strength of her will. Afloat in the air above the middle of Circle Lake, she allowed the ruby to spill from her hand and plummet into the water. It was out of her control at that point, left to the cryptic whims of hell to produce for her whatever would serve her revenge. As the gemstone sank out of her vision and into the shadows of the bottom, Nova swallowed on the fear that she had been mistaken about the spell, or that she had cast it incorrectly. She second-guessed if she performed the prayers one-hundred times or only ninety-nine, until there was no longer stillness in the water, but a particular vibration, a disruption in its crystalline quality, and a blood-like redness that spread out to the beaches.
Nova curiously lingered lower on her broom, but a geyser of water right beneath her urged her aside in a squeal of surprise. Her heart skipped a beat, alive for the first time in a month upon witnessing the explosive debut of her demon servant. The lake was then a portal to another realm, and taking shape was something big-- bigger, a size that continued to expand higher and wider out of Circle Lake. Huge, soon reaching the height at which Nova had been hovering, forcing her to maneuver away again as the body of her minion was unveiled by the cascade of shimmering water. Whatever creature she had expected was not what had been summoned: little different than a human, nude and male, but with lightweight wings that matched his proportionally slim build. It was no demon she had learned of, but a titan that swamped the very lake it had arrived in. Muscles as thick as castle walls, limbs as long as palace halls -- Nova marveled at her reward, merely level with his hips from where she hovered.
“I had asked for a servant,” Nova muttered, her voice shambling as the last of her doubts melted, “but this… this is a god. H-How can I--?” She scoffed into a laugh, still amazed by the gallons of water that trickled down his awesome features. It was a most intimidating image, this man who was equipped with nothing but his immenseness, a giant that would make play out of the mages and the council that had wronged her.
“Of course… My passion was always true…! This is the power of forbidden magic… a manifestation of its infinite potential…! Hah, hah… I must show them-- make them realize how weak they’ve always been!”
Nova aimed herself towards the Mage’s Academy, that majestic sight no longer as impressive to her. Above the canopy of the forest, she saw its famous silhouette, that of the grand cathedral surrounded by a grand gate, and accompanied by satellite-like islands that orbited the campus adorning tall towers. It was there that tens of thousands of students practiced their magic; where thousands more tended to the grounds; where hundreds of professors aligned themselves under the Council, the four mages Nova sought most. She took higher into the air, a precaution that she stayed far and safe while the demon -- her Puppet -- did all the work in executing her will.
But this momentous purpose was well beyond the fairy’s comprehension, who found himself warped from one pool into another without warning. True that he was not of Nova’s world, but neither was he a creature from hell. Canaan was a humble servant in his own world, taken into serving his mistress, Lady Airomed; it was within the forests of her domain that the diminutive fairy had been bathing peacefully in a pond before his personal time was interrupted. He had dove into the water and spun about once to rinse himself, but when he broke the surface next, a different world awaited him, a different forest that was greener, richer -- but for some reason, significantly smaller in scale.
“... Huh? Mmm…? L-Lady Airomed…?” Canaan spoke hesitantly, unsure of his circumstance and always wary of his mistress’s involvement. He moved in shivers and with a worried expression, qualities largely unfit for someone so huge; he searched for anything familiar, his little movements causing Circle Lake to thrash. Aimlessly, he crawled to the nearest coast, his wings flickering behind him to be rid of the water. “Is anyone here? Wh-Where is here, anyway?”
Nova raised a brow to these rumblings that vocalized from her Puppet, unable to decipher the meaning besides general confusion. It was nearly worthy of pity, but overtaken by zeal, Nova was not concerned enough for her demon’s dilemma. Eagerly, she decided to test the quality of their connection to one another, and so she closed her eyes and magically altered her perspective to that of her Puppet. It was a spine chilling change, to observe Circle Lake as a shallow pool behind her, the heights of the forest only as tall as her -- as tall as her demon, as it was almost too easy to forget. Indeed, from the eyes of the giant, she struggled to find her actual self afloat somewhere in the sky, only to overlook her relatively small form. That was the difference in scale, and a peculiar surge within her yearned to explore that difference with the other mages.
No command or word was needed to prompt Canaan into moving forward. He was influenced by Nova’s will, which was so drilled into the Mage’s Academy that he followed her intent like an instinct. He did not question the compulsion at all, feeling it natural to be drawn in that direction, even if it was not his own decision. Nova herself was pleasantly surprised to learn how effective her control over her Puppet was, that he was even ahead of her towards the campus. She giggled as they approached, delighted not only by visions of her revenge, but how her skin was tickled and itched, a consequence of Canaan ripping through the countless branches, all breaking apart against his magnificent nudity.
Nova’s burning revenge was about to commence, but en route to the Mage’s Academy, the first to witness he who had invaded their world were ambushed by his arrival. Within the woods, several mages participated in a friendly race on their brooms, swerving through the complex canopies as to hone their flying skills. The fastest two among them had been in a fierce neck-and-neck, but the competition was disturbed when tremors plagued the landscape, causing the many trees to shudder and for their leaves to shiver free. Most of the mages slowed to a stop, their attention drawn off the race and to the source of the quakes. Peering into the dense depths, they guessed aloud at what was responsible, until the intense crackle of noise -- that of logs bending and snapping incessantly -- was suddenly too close for comfort.
The flock of mages gasped and scattered when, unbelievably, a gigantic foot was careening in their direction, a stride that cleaved through the forest obstacles in its jump towards them. While others flew away successfully, others were slow to get their speed back, and thus were subsequently kicked down by the unexplained leg. Of course, the other foot was soon added to the chaos, charging through with as much brute force as the other and right into the blindside of those that had dodged before. They slammed into the pillar of skin, muscled off their brooms and forced to either fall to the forest floor, or pinch themselves to the giant, submitting to his greatness as he trekked towards the Academy. Those fortunate enough to completely avoid the titan were able to marvel at his existence; they looked first at the crater of a footprint left in his wake, then turned towards the giant himself, gawking at his naked presentation that boasted every amplified quality to remark upon.
Through Canaan, Nova had taken notice of the flyers that her Puppet had interfered with. She reacted to them like moths, wanting to swat them away until she remembered who they were. People, she generously called them, and even more respectably, My fellow classmates… once before… To think of their tiny perspectives cast upon her nude servant caused her to blush, embarrassed by how many people were bound to watch her. Even if it were not herself to be committing the rampage, she was bonded enough with Canaan to feel his shame; it was electric to share that sensation. When her eyes were opened, Nova could observe from high above the destruction that she conducted, and when her eyes closed, she saw the carnage through Canaan, clearly discerning how small and weak such things like her fellow classmates were to her. Where she once allowed Canaan to cover his genitals -- that huge package which bobbed tremendously throughout the walk -- she later revoked that right, compelling him to be proud of his nudity, to feel reassured that it meant nothing what the minuscule mages thought of his form.
For those racing against Canaan’s approach, his nudity was yet to be fully realized, as the two flyers continued at a fierce pace through the woods. Neither had slowed when they heard the first devastating crunch of a footstep, nor the roar of shock in response. They only glanced back through the many trees to acknowledge that twin pillars were after them – only a moment later did they understand that it was feet bounding in their direction. Their power was made clear by how the poplars and birches snapped under the soles, bending against the plush expanse of skin before vanishing entirely underneath it. The racers hoped they could lean into their momentum and hurry ahead back to campus, but they underestimated the speed – and the sheer length of every stride – of the demon’s march forward.
The rivals weaved through trees and branches, but one made the decision to lift upwards and outwards from the giant’s trajectory. She sacrificed speed and distance, a risk that unfortunately failed her – just after rising out from a canopy, she felt the shade of a footfall blanket her. She shrieked and dove away, but the sole was too quickly upon her, forcing her down faster than she could have flown. She pushed vainly against the flesh before the foot cratered into the forest floor, flatly ending that competitive life.
A hard gust of wind ripped outward from the stomp, a shockwave that quickly caught up to the remaining racer. The turbulence made her waver into a tree mid-flight, sending her further off-balance. Stripped of her speed, she swerved aside in a last ditch effort to escape, but the subsequent footstep was then on top of her. Her broom was tossed from her grasp when boulder-like toes barreled down on her, catching her in their curl just before crashing into the earth.
“Hm? D-Did I step on something?” Canaan spoke to himself, yet unaware there was anyone to overhear him. A tickle between his toes brought him to a temporary stop as he wiggled the digits up in the air, trying to loosen whatever pebble of debris was wedged between them. “Strange grass,” he remarked on the forest’s trees, still oblivious of his colossal stature. “Where did I end up…? Oh– is that a place?”
Ahead of Canaan was the edge of the forest, and then the entrance to the Mage’s Academy; the entire campus stretched before him, situated not only in the hills of the land, but established as well on top of floating isles, hovering over the castle of an academy with their own towers and facilities, safely out of his reach. Surveying the area ahead of him, Canaan’s awe drew him into the front courtyards of the college, his arrival met with shrieks from those navigating the stone-paved fields. Students responded however they could, but only so many had brooms with which to take flight; the most senior students used teleporation magic to warp away, in contrast to the freshmen that fumbled their wands in fright. Spherical barriers were constructed around clots of students, but their defenses were pitiful, sealing them in place as the wide flatness of a foot crushed them no differently than the elaborate fountains or the fanciful gardens.
The courtyard was truly a placemat for Nova’s demon, an appropriate place to have her Puppet stand while she scoped out the school grounds from the sky. Her own toes curled with delight, sharing the sensation of the land crumbling underfoot – it urged her to press onward, to have her demon enter the passage that was the Gate of Ceremonies. The true entrance to the Mage’s Academy, the wide path led to two mighty doors, appropriately huge and heavy with what virtues they represented. On either side were a stadium’s amount of lifted seating, known to be filled completely during the entrance and graduation ceremonies, but the only ones there then were those hiding away from the giant that had thundered into view. For all of her enrollment, Nova remembered the gate to be open at all times, allowing students and faculty free entry; such was the case then, the doors separated like an invitation for her equally-massive demon to intrude.
“Forward, my Puppet!” Nova chuckled darkly, gesturing down at the school as though it belonged in her hand. Her eyes closed as she shared her vision with Canaan, her skin shivering with excitement as she felt that huge body wade towards the Gate of Ceremonies. Archways splintered against his shins as he stepped through the structures, exemplifying how fragile everything else would be. “This passage, where my anguish began – the falsehoods that were preached, the cowardice mislabeled as carefulness…! How befitting that my baleful revenge begin here, too…~”
Canaan had been curiously observant as he strolled through the immaculate hall, partially kneeling low so that he could understand how much life was at his feet. “Ahh~ Very small~” he commented, idly scratching at a cheek that had grown warm. It amused him how small any individual was to him; speck-sized, like bits of pollen or clumps of dirt, the likes of which Lady Airomed would entirely overlook with her superior scale if she were around. He shuddered with mischievous ideas, a grin forming as he felt another compulsion swell inside him; “I don’t know what this place is, but it looks like a lot of fun~ I wonder if it took a long time to build…?”
Encouraged and empowered by his tiny surroundings, Canaan rose to full height again, looming high to take aim. Prompted by Nova’s emotions, he conducted an attack against a box of seats, stomping down on a series of rows that were no longer than his foot. The demolition left debris piled on top of it, grinded into dust by the clench of his toes and then scattered in the wind when lifted out from the pit. The satisfaction of causing instant destruction rode up his impressive height, brought to his head like a ringing bell – a chime shared with Nova, whose thighs squeezed her broom’s handle with enticement. She wished the seats had been as full as her entrance ceremony, but the unfortunate few mages that had been squashed were a fine-enough appetizer.
“Yes…! Cause more mayhem, my Puppet!” Nova cheered, the pounding of her heart driving down any of the doubts Canaan might have had about rampaging. He took to it naturally, spurred as well by his own sensibilities; he thought of the collections his mistress owned, the countless tinies from other worlds that he was always forbidden from playing with. Far away from Lady Airomed, he was free to act as he pleased, even incited to be destructive – and so he happily continued his spree, taking that same foot and bombarding the opposite side of the hall with it. He tore through the seats, kicking them away alongside any mages that had been bunkered between them. Decorations were brought down into the chaos, ranging from banners of notable families, to the proud statues of key figures, all turned into broken obstacles onto the floor of flustered students.
All the while, Nova made sure to push her demon onward, only having as much fun as could be savored in the relatively short Gate of Ceremonies. It was the same direction that the bulk of the mages below were funneled towards, ushered to take shelter within the school grounds or risk becoming enwrapped in the giant’s schemes. The panicked traffic pushed in by Canaan continued to flood towards campus, until the unexpected occurred to stop them. A historical precedent was forsaken – the tall doors of the Gate were closing, sealed together shut by the work of powerful, unmistakable magic.
“You may venture no nearer, demon scum!” a mature woman’s voice echoed down the passage, projected by audio-based magic. Her sternness, made loud and clear by the spell, could be recognized as far as Nova was in the sky, a voice that infuriated her with what it reminded. “Relinquish yourself now to the Councilmages, or be smote by our strength! We refuse to bend to the intimidation of monsters!”
“Tch… That insolent pride…” Nova scoffed and rolled her eyes, habiting still like a bad-mannered student. “Councilmage Avyxus… An incredible mage, but…” She grinned ear to ear, her grasp on the broom becoming a strangle, “she will not dampen the fires of my revenge– indeed, her appearance has only fanned those flames of fury…! My Puppet will humiliate her first among the Councilmages – and I do so hope that they will be watching, huhuh…”
Canaan stood shyly at the closed gate, unsure why he would be rejected – his intention was only to have some fun, a feeling he felt promised to enjoy. Indeed, he was as stopped as all of the fleeing students right at his feet, now trapped between his toes and the sealed entrance to the academy. The crowd piled against the door’s lowly bottom, pleading to be let inside, but Avyxus was resolved to her defense – she stood proudly atop the archway of the doors, level with Canaan’s chest, her intricate wooden staff steady at her side. Her robes, decorated with the badges and scarves of prestigious honors, billowed in the wind against the face of the giant, unphased by his looming presence nor the cries of students below.
Coming to realize that the wispy speck in front of him was responsible for the blockade, Canaan naturally thought to dislodge her position. However, when he reached to grab her, he was prevented – a barrier blocked him like a glass window, appearing right in front of Avyxus. It was why she was so unflinching where she stood, that she had the Dome of Protection to her advantage. It was a magically-powered shield that encompassed the main school grounds, denying all unapproved masses – even a giant. Canaan’s hand was reeled back in defeat, but dark impulses kept him captivated.
“My mages! Commence the attack!” Avyxus ordered, waving her staff like a war banner, and appropriately was an assault launched. An elite circle of mages was then teleported in the air around Canaan, standing atop their brooms with their hands dedicated to spellwork. The dozen of Avyxus’s prized students were synchronized in their strategy, unleashing offensive magic at their unmissable target. Missiles of ice and beams of fire were just some of the spells in the assortment of attacks, projectiles that surrounded Canaan from all sides and covered his presence with the smoke and fog of their effects.
But when that coverage cleared, when Avyxus’s mages expected to see their opponent pushed back, they instead saw him unchanged. So too did the weaker students below gawk at that result, that the demon was unmarked by the counterattack; no scar or burn, and the man himself swayed idly, having only leaned forward with interest regarding the magical attacks. A half-hearted giggle was his only remark on their efforts, but it dashed the hopes of those who heard it – that the giant was not only unaffected, but mildly amused.
Truthfully, Nova’s confidence had wavered when the trap was sprung, a hesitation that slowed Canaan from reacting. However, she too felt how minuscule the attacks were, her skin pinched – at most – by the various magics. It was not unnoticeable, but ticklish, made even more laughable to be aware of how strong Avyxus’s students were. She chuckled down into her chest, “Eh-heh… K-Keep trying… Th-They’re so outmatched…!”
As reddened as she became, Canaan glowed as well, his smirk shivering with mischievous intent. Compelled by Nova’s desires, he swatted at one formation of mages levitating around him, his whole hand catching a pair of students in the meat of his palm. His fingers curled around them quickly, interrupting any attempts of a magical escape; he observed them, feeling their resistance to his grip, deciding how to punish them. Before the two could beg, he smothered them into his chest, massaging their tiny bodies up and across his bosom. They squirmed frantically against his sweaty flesh, tickling him exactly as he had hoped. Canaan chose to release them, but when he removed his hand, the two women were firmly impressed into the skin, slowly descending his torso like beads of sweat themselves.
Avyxus shuddered with disgust at how her best students were defeated – in such humiliating fashion that her ego, too, was wounded. She grimaced in her safety, her anger fueling the pleasure Nova was enjoying high above. The summoner giggled over herself, a hand groping her chest, mimicking Canaan’s method of disabling the mages. Having tasted that delicious struggling of those students, Nova became addicted, itching to have her Puppet satiate those cravings.
As Canaan watched the elite mages buzz around his body, his fascination turned to playfulness, unknowingly motivated by Nova’s dark desires to see them as playthings. It took little convincing for the fairy to retaliate against the spells slung against his indomitable form, unabashedly presenting himself as an open and free target – he laughed boastfully as fire, vines, and electricity were all used upon him, only for the attacks to dissolve on his skin like sprays of water. He sympathized with them only enough to find it humorous how much they tried and how little they were rewarded; Canaan was especially intrigued by those striking his ass with spells, as if being behind him had any advantage.
A glance over his shoulder was the only warning those mages were given, but as focused as they were in synergizing their spells, they were ill-prepared to respond. Canaan’s counterattack crashed into them without mercy: his ass, having been tickled to its limits by their assault, launched into them with catapult force. They were bombarded by cheeks the size of fortresses, a drop of hugeness that was too swift to evade. Caught against the bare skin, they were thrashed hard into the floor of the passage, flattened into a crater that Canaan made his seat. The shockwave of their defeat traveled hazardously across the ground, a jolt of the earth that tripped and tumbled the list of flightless students trapped beneath the action.
But the rank and order of the mages, whether they could defend themselves or not, made no difference to how Canaan viewed the sprawl of chaos. After having claimed his seat atop some elites, he next tormented the pile-up of students between him and the closed Gate, with no further effort than stretching his legs out and into the crowd. One foot at a time struck outward, jetting across the floor like huge battering rams, unobstructed by any amount of mages. The sole smashed hard into the doors, stretched into a narrow V-shape; his legs were then walls that boxed-in dozens of students, with nowhere to turn but towards their captor. They gasped and shrieked at the sight forced upon them: the demon’s erection, risen proud from his enormous sack.
His audience noticed his display of arousal before he did; Canaan blinked upon realizing the state of his dick, initially awkward about the attention, but then enjoying it. Shrugging without concern, he was unphased by the disgusted reactions of the crowd, entertained to sense the flicker of everyone’s surprise and disfavor while he made himself comfortable. Empowered more than before, he expressed his strength with an effortless attack; a mighty inhale first threatened to consume fliers right out of the sky, before that air was expelled as a devastating whirlwind, a beam of force that swirled and swept the mages into discord. Bodies slapped against the impenetrable glass of the Dome, each a painting of failure on Councilmage Avyxus’s behalf – she was set ablaze with anger on her side of the shield, her poise imperfect and one eye twitching.
“This obnoxious brat…” Avyxus scoffed, channeling her emotions into vindication. “He will make the campus a playground…! A demon so shameless cannot be allowed within the Academy!”
She hoped her speech would inspire her select students to keep up the battle, but Canaan was proven unstoppable. Bored of swatting the mages down, he began grabbing the remaining few to serve as his enrichment; he discovered the pleasure of pushing them against his body, an impulse that stemmed from Nova, but that which Canaan took to his own accord, deciding to smother some into the immeness of his balls. He chuckled hazily as he tucked them deep into the crevice between his thighs and sack, their ceaseless struggles driving his lewd interests onto the mages between his legs. Amateur magic and raw athleticism equally failed for those trying to escape, their efforts only feeding into the fairy’s frenzy. With Nova’s encouragement, Canaan used both hands to funnel the crowd towards his crotch, messily piling them on top of each other in a mound of mass that writhed around his testicles. The roar of the students’ disapproval was outmatched by his moan of joy, a shivering sigh that stoked the flames of Avyxus’s fury.
Nova, meanwhile, twirled with delight where she was, high in the sky as an overseer of the schools’ ridiculous tragedy. She openly laughed and mocked the students from faraway, shamelessly posed upon her broom with her legs clamped tight around the wood, the shaft situated between her breasts. As if rolling around in bed, she giddily immersed herself in the fantasy of incredible power, savoring the squish and pinch of the lives she deemed worthless. Revenge had fallen out of focus, enthralled with how her Puppet could overpower heaps of her peers, but a threat to her fun appeared in a flash: Avyxus had teleported across the Dome of Protection, entering herself as Canaan’s opponent. Her arrival initially struck Nova with worry, but she cooly laughed such fears aside, genuinely eager to see how a Councilmage compared to her Puppet.
Canaan, meanwhile, was blank with fascination over what had popped into his vision, the distinctly-dressed mage that hovered level to his collarbone. Knowing nothing of the Councilmage but the authority with which she announced herself, he looked unto Avyxus with uncertainty, mostly enthused with the motes of mana being channeled into her staff. A purple spellcircle was then created by a spin of the staff, further hyping the casting of an impressive spell as it continued to draw energy from the area. Avyxus made her preparations anxiously, blinking under the heavy gaze of her foe, but overcoming hesitations to take aim with her magic – angled low, her target was none other than Canaan’s erection, a beast in its own right, but truly a rod that had to be vulnerable. It was, theoretically, his weak point.
Avyxus recited a chant, and its conclusion– Rrrooooaaa!! The air vibrated as a tremendous power was unleashed from the circle like a cannon. A purple beam ripped into existence, a blast so sudden it caused a wide surge of dimming to all other sources of magic. It propelled fast like lightning, unwavering in its trajectory – Canaan could barely flinch where he sat, too huge and heavy to shift away as the string of energy struck his dick, a clash that appeared to lock his body with stiffness. The mages he had raked onto his crotch marveled at the display, at first believing they would be casualties to Avyxus’s defense, but then shocked into awe as they witnessed unbelievable results from their lowly perspective; they cowered beneath the magical impact, terrified to learn that the demon’s cock was proving superior to the Councilmage’s beam.
A gasp erupted from Canaan, the most his body could jostle in the stiffness he was compelled into. The effect was mirrored in Nova, but her body was allowed to shudder and quake, brought alive by an unexpected electricity that made her salivate. She was afraid, but not of Avyxus – she was afraid of what her Puppet was about to become.
The Councilmage’s spell brought to light a grim realization, a lesson taught through error and overconfidence. Avyxus’s casting form slumped with despair; the ongoing beam of energy was held steady out of desperation, despite the evidence that it was backfiring. Rather than enfeeble the giant as intended – or outright denounce him from existence, as Avyxus originally idealized the spell to do – her magic was instead utterly discharged. Worse than simply negated or shielded, the mana of her spell was melted, and was then immediately absorbed into the demon’s being. The effect magnified the uproar that was infecting more of the Academy: the near-naked terror was growing into an even bigger threat, his demonic body innately transforming opposing magic into matter with which to expand.
It had been a blessing before how Canaan ignored the relative flicks of magic used against him; the students, even the elites, were too weak in their spellcasting to make him noticeably grow larger than he already was. Avyxus’s magic was vastly stronger, as seen with how devastatingly it conspired against her. Canaan expanded in every direction, gaining height and weight where he sat outside the Gate. His hips were soon met with the bleachers beside him, but the rows of seats just as quickly shattered and sunk under his growth, allowing his sides to then be contested by the stone walls of the passage. His head jerked into a stone arc above him, cracking it apart due to the demand of his increasing size. Students fled from his growth, but the slow were overwhelmed by his girth, smothered beneath a flood of flesh.
Canaan continued to grow, even beyond the end of Avyxus’s spell. The beam dwindled into nothing and the spellcircle faded, but Canaan kept growing, shifting restlessly as he was pumped with energy. Avyxus’s confidence completely paled in the face of the disaster, dropping to an all-time low as the titan’s cock rose to meet her; the head pointed at her like a weapon, its thickness swelling to become inescapably wide. Humiliation seeped to her very core as she flinched away from him the demon’s dick, her senses stung by the musk that resonated from its slit. Her pride as a Councilmage was broken and her ego belittled, replaced with the quivering slouch and stutters that would better define a nervous novice.
Though Avyxus was frozen with paralysis, the rest of the world churned around her with consequence. After coming to his senses, Canaan’s eyes opened with a new wind of brightness. His muscles clenched in celebration, “That felt great! Ahh~” His eagerness was doubled as aptly as his height, and the Gate of Ceremonies quaked with his excess energy, failing to contain him within its walls. An even stronger demon was upon them, a behemoth that was reared and ready to begin playing again. “How weird,” he chuckled over his enlarged form, “but it must have been because of this little one…”
Canaan’s curiosity was quick-acting. He took possession of Avyxus in an instant, swamping her in a sweat-soaked grip before she could channel a spell for defense. A hint of respect for the mage’s spectacular capabilities was represented by the strictness of Canaan’s hold on her, that he fretted she might use magic to escape and thus clung to her tightly. Avyxus nearly suffocated in the few moments she was restrained, almost drowned in the humid air and globs of sweat, until the flesh worked around her so that her head was exposed. It was little relief to be freed in such a way, however, as Avyxus was pointed directly to her fate; a spire of erect flesh, facelessly wanting.
“Heh… You look so small…” Canaan teased, uncaring of whether or not his captive could understand him. He compared her entirety to just his cock, happily noting all the features that dwarfed her. The attention made his dick throb in anticipation, and he laughed, “You must be really freaking out! You can’t get away, can you~?”
Testing that pathetic fact, Canaan drew the woman to the head, the slightest of his shivers causing it to bob and boast its weight. The closer she was taken to it, the louder and feistier Avyxus raged, but her desperate squirming could not outmatch the pinch of fingers around her, nor could she command mana into a spell while bound the way she was. She hoped the power of her scream would dissuade the demon from pulling her closer, but to her surprise, she was near enough to be punished by it – a bubble of milk sprayed upon her, a mere jolt of pre-cum that slapped her front, and shut her mouth.
“Pfft, hah! Was that too much?” Canaan chuckled, contorting his thighs in an effort to hold his release. He sighed with frustration, but it was a frustration he liked. He grinned grimly, “There’s a lot more… Why not take a look?”
Avyxus shrieked, only then responding in horror to the wetness that had stained her majestic robes. That tantrum was then snuffed when her body was pressed into the peak of his dick, her plights muffled into the milky glob atop it. More cum leaked upward as a result of that touch, the vicious thrashing of a mature woman playing into what Canaan had wanted from her. His other hand clawed into the seats beside him, gripping the wood into splinters as he steadied himself for a challenge. He wished to see the Councilmage be fed to his cock, and it was proving easy to do; regardless of how Avyxus resisted, the fingers totally overpowered her, and so she was sunk – past the gushes of fluid, and deep into his urethra. An audience of students and faculty alike were captivated by the scene, so many willing to stagger their escapes from the demon so that they could witness the strange and humiliating defeat of a respectable administrator.
Canaan was cool-headed, absorbed into his obtuse lust, but Nova writhed and kicked, arousal melting upon her broom as she cherished the absolute dread of all those that had wronged her. Her connection with her Puppet had set her ablaze with a sensation never before experienced, her mind and emotions magically provoked to mirror the feeling of a cock devouring an entire woman; a flood of something sexually new that her body reacted volatiley towards. It was an uncontrollable rush of orgasmic drive, unlike the flushed feeling she was accustomed to – this was urgent and the need to release had to be immediate. It felt dangerous, as though she were on the verge of unleashing an incredible spell.
Wickedly aware of where that anxiety was leading, Nova made sure that the moment would not be ill-spent, willing her Puppet to take aim. The idea bubbled in Canaan’s groggy mind, an influence not of his own, but that he still happily agreed to, as if a friend had whispered a naughty plan into his ear. He dizzily rose to his feet, ever cautious of how his rod was handled as he took to a hunched height and turned around. His sweaty back smashed above the gate’s inseparable doors and against the Dome of Protection, supporting him as his knees buckled and hips pushed forward – he wished to let go, especially as he imagined so many bewildered expressions gawking at the bump that travelled his urethra, the miserable indication of Avyxus’s place, but he restrained himself. He panted and grunted, ever ready, but patiently waiting for the right moment.
It all depended on Avyxus and how long she could resist being swallowed. Restricted by the shaft’s unletting tightness, she could only rock her neck and kick her feet as a means to fight her fate, continuously screaming to be saved when cum did not instantly choke her. It was a hopeless path she was bound to, coaxed forward by outside strokes and suggestions, pushed along in an impatient rhythm that only changed when she sank into her destination: her gasp was cut short as she plummeted into a sloshing tank of semen, her prison that was the demon’s testicles.
“Grrk–! She’s–!” Canaan coughed with surprise. His eyes bulged and a steamy exhale vented through his gritted teeth; within his balls was a distinct droplet of a feeling, as satisfying as a key perfectly fitting a lock. There was a pause in everything, as far as Canaan was concerned, when he acknowledged that the tiny witch had been completely taken into him – she was eaten alive by the lustful hunger of his dick. To the tune of that amusing concept, he gasped and thrust his hips on instinct, an extra surge of propulsion that launched his fluids far down the Hall of Ceremonies. The careful tenderness of how he gripped his erection turned hurried, tasked with pumping the load that Avyxus had been delightfully obstructing. His spray shot wide like he wanted, earning a dry laugh of smug superiority as he watched his victims toil in his pleasure; the white rain pummelled students to the ground, leaving behind gloppy strips that mired their hectic escapes. Fast-acting mages guarded themselves and others with spellcasted shields or telekinetically grabbing the sludge mid-air, but Canaan’s cum was in overwhelming supply, a relentless bombardment that befouled the air with a pungent saltiness.
Once emptied, Canaan collapsed heavier into the doors behind him, slipping down their marbled patterns until he was seated with a boom that cracked the floor beneath him. He sighed dreamily, “Wow~ Hehe-he… Whoops~” It was just short of a genuine apology, muttered aloud when he felt the slightest sympathy for the people swamped in his orgasm. All the same did he stretch his legs out into the mobs, decidedly claiming the remaining bleachers as rests for his up-right feet; posed this way, he could focus his attention on the life absorbed into his ballsack. Delicately, Canaan grasped his jewels into the cup of a palm, gently wriggling his grip in search of the Councilmage – curiously, she was not amidst the huge load he had shot out. When he failed to find her, he chuckled darkly, “Huh… Guess she’s just gone…”
But Avyxus had not disappeared so conveniently, a detail Canaan could look past, but that uniquely roused his master into an unending fit of twitches and moans. Nova squirmed madly along her broom, unabashedly grinding her crotch up and down its smoothness in a red-colored fluster. No touch was capable of quelling her, for nothing of her physical form was entertained – it was her summoner’s bond that erotically suspended her, but she was enthused with being held at that precipice. She fantasized about Avyxus’s predicament, trapped in treacherous pools of ceaseless semen, haphazardly swirled whenever her captor made a movement. Nova cooed aloud at her lonely altitude, “G-Good… Struggle good in there…~ K-Keep swimming…~”
Canaan was situated to rest and recover after having masturbated so fiercely, but rather than fall wearier, his senses sparked. An urge came over him to want to stretch and expand – his body wanted to grow, emboldened with a strength that needed to be freed from within. He twinged with discomfort, but once he relaxed and allowed the transformation, he moaned from pleasure. The staggered students surrounding his feet and legs were surprised when his obtrusive limbs began to crunch through their beds of debris, devouring the limited space left in the Hall of Ceremonies. Canaan noticed that issue as well, though with a much lazier mindset, only tickled with worry when the pudge of his legs and sides began to press into the walls with whoever was squished in between the two.
It soon became clear what the cause was behind Canaan’s growth, arcane as the explanation was. His weight increased faster than his height, a heaviness that slumped against the two towering doors into the campus – a barrier whose magical sheen of color flickered and faded, as if trembling to sustain itself, until it could stand no longer. Canaan’s fantastical body had the passive quality of absorbing magic from littler sources, a humble trait of being a fairy that turned Avyxus’s power against her own school. For as she sloshed around in a blind struggle inside Canaan’s balls, he stole her energy to become bigger whether he intended to or not; with her power slowly stripped, she could no longer maintain the impenetrable seal.
As the doors lost their magical reinforcement, they became as mundane as any slabs of stone bearing the mountain of weight that was the fairy’s back. The pair began to part, until all at once– kra-kroom! The hinges ripped from the arch-shaped entry, and the doors collapsed into the campus commons, fissuring into fragments that crumbled into dust as Canaan rolled backwards over them. He was agasp at his own clumsy debut, but he was regardlessly met with a roaring response; an audience of spellcasters, horrified by his explosive entry. They had believed themselves to be safe inside the Dome of Protection and behind the Hall of Ceremony’s Doors, but the demon threat proved them wrong in an accidental tumble that invaded their sanctuary.
“Oof…! What a weak door…!” Canaan complained, unhappy to have been dropped backwards so suddenly. He curled to stand up, but had to first contort his hips and legs so that his lower half could fit through the archway, lest his growth stuck him in an awkward tightness in the passage. The crowds used that hurdle to make distance, but the quakes caused by his crawling were quickly upon them, catching the most skittish and tripping them in their tracks. His presence itself emitted a suffocating pressure as all feared his plans, though it would be of no relief for them to know the truth of their tormentor’s innocent bliss; it was even gleamed in his curious expression, the wonder in his eyes as he sat up and gazed at the Academy.
He awed at the central castle grounds that made the core of the school, designed with generous courtyards and tall spires; above that grandness were floating islands that orbited a radius overhead, crowned with towers that served as classrooms and facilities; and far back behind the school, rising as high as the Dome of Protection allowed, was an enormous mana tree, separated from the campus by long fields but otherwise still an important location. The Academy was a majestic and sprawling school designed to teach thousands at a time the wild world of magic, founded histories ago and led by the spellcasting world’s elite – but Canaan stood hungrily within the commons, taller than the castle walls, and sporting a persistent erection that he cared not to hide. The pride of the school was lost on him, comprehending the Academy as nothing more than an elaborate playground that he was ever encouraged to trample.
“So cool~ So many little things to look at! Hehe… Where should I start…?”