Fated Pairing
Another big-head story, this one with big fat women with big fat heads and quasi-mystical fated sexytimes. Readmore because it’s pretty long. First posted in a /d/ thread.
Heather was concentrating especially hard on her math quiz when a chunk of her long blonde hair fell off of her head onto her desk. She gasped and ran her fingers through her locks, which came away with another bundle of long golden strands. “Miss Geer, I need to go to the nurse!” The nurse took one look at her, carrying half her hair in her hands, and confirmed what Heather had already been hoping: her psychic powers were finally coming in.
The daughter of two highly talented bulb-heads herself, Heather had long been pegged as someone likely to manifest the common physical signs of psychic talent – the bloated, egg-shaped skull; the completely bald body; the pale, translucent skin. Sure enough, as the rest of Heather’s hair shed off (including, in one embarrassing clump, her entire pubic patch) her body underwent a further metamorphosis, with her already light skin taking on a distinctly papery look and her scalp softening up and expanding outward.
It was the final part – the growth of her head – that she had most been looking forward to. Heather had always loved how her parents looked, their enormous skulls the size of beachballs and housing brains capable of lifting loaded railroad cars clean off their wheels without strain and manipulating microscopic tools from across a room. They could even lift themselves, swooping and floating in the air, although out of deference to normal humans they generally refrained from doing so in public.
At first, Heather was disappointed in her powers. She seemed to strain to lift even the lightest paperclip from her desk, and the mental effort required wiped her out. After a half-hour of intense concentration, she would slip back downstairs and devour anything she could find in the kitchen, packing her small frame with as many calories as she could find, then collapsing back into bed to sleep it off. At least her parents had withdrawn her from school, instead taking advantage of the fact that her newly-awakened psychic powers meant they could simply transmit their own knowledge, albeit slowly, into Heather’s own mind as she slept, leaving her plenty of time during the day to train her abilities.
Over time, things became easier. A month after she had flopped onto her bed, belly stuffed with the side effects of another strenuous training session, she found she could now lift – for a small period – her own bed and hover it in the air. Heather also began using her telekinesis to collect together those calorie binges, instead of rooting through the pantry herself, and then bring every little delicious morsel back to her room to devour in private, away from the prying eyes of her parents.
Despite her own frustrations, her parents were overjoyed at her progress. “I wasn’t able to lift that much weight until nearly a year later!” said her father. Her mother beamed and mentally broadcast her own amazement at the speed with which their daughter was learning to read minds, and reached out and rubbed Heather’s head, which always made her thickening thighs quiver like jelly. Her entire scalp was an erogenous zone, she was discovering to her amusement and discomfort. Masturbation no longer required plasticine penii or an intense fingerbang; no, she could make herself cum solely by brushing some soft cloth over the crown of her head.
About six months after she started her training, Heather celebrated her gains by refusing to touch the ground for an entire day, instead electing to float everywhere, supported by her burgeoning braincase. She floated in front of the television, floated into the kitchen for her meals, and floated back upstairs to take a nap. In fact, she enjoyed the experience so much that she vowed to keep it up for as long as possible, rationalizing that constantly carrying her body weight (which had increased somewhat noticeably since she was withdrawn from school, but, hey, she was a growing girl) was excellent exercise.
So Heather trained, and ate, and slept, and ate, and slept, and trained. She also masturbated often, but she didn’t like to dwell on that as much. Her parents, always in demand because of their incredible talents, found themselves traveling a lot during this long summer period, leaving Heather to her own devices (and a seemingly-bottomless credit card with which to order groceries), and so she spent the time doing very little else and rarely leaving the house.
That fall, nearly a year after her powers had manifested, her mother was home for an entire week. It wasn’t until Wednesday that she found the gumption to say “You know, Heather, you’re getting pretty big.”
“I know, isn’t it great? I think my cranium measurement is just a little smaller than yours now!”
“Oh, is that so? That’s wonderful, dear, but it’s not what I meant.” And she reached out and patted her daughter’s belly.
Heather looked down at herself. She was floating in midair, as was her wont, but gradually settled back to the kitchen floor to concentrate on her body.
A year previously, Heather had been a rather skinny girl. Now, however, all that binge eating had taken its toll on her body, and Heather now was the proud owner of a potbelly of frankly titanic proportions, topped by a pair of breasts that were veritably exploding out of her bra. Further down, her hips were wedged tightly into a pair of jeans she was borrowing from her father, himself no small man. Her thighs were smooth and soft, as were her arms, and a subtle double-chin had formed at her neck. And of course, her head was about two feet wide, its ashen skin criss-crossed with subtle blue veins.
But what really caught her eye was how much taller she was than her mother. “Y-yeah, I guess I am pretty big now,” she said, estimating that she now towered over her mom by nearly a foot, putting her, including her vast domed head, at around seven feet tall, which was an incredible growth from her 5'5" just a year previous. “This is normal, right?”
“Well, I’ve heard of people growing as their psychic powers come in, but you, honey, take the cake!” Heather’s mom drew her into a hug right then, her brain resting directly in Heather’s face. Heather shivered and hugged back, feeling, for the first time, how big and heavy she was – and how much her brain outweighed her mother’s.
“I feel fine, mom, and what’s more I’ve inspected my body, mentally, like you taught me – there’s nothing out of the ordinary. I guess I was just always going to be a big girl,” she said, slapping her ass and laughing to break the mood. She found herself wondering when dinner was.
Over the next year, she continued to eat and grow, and the family watched as Heather’s brain outgrew that of her parents. She began to train in rescue tactics, the same work her parents did – lifting heavy objects, picking apart crashed vehicles, shifting rubble, and, in one memorable instance, pushing aside a small flood with nothing but her mind. Heather excelled at the work, her willpower more than matched by her incredible control, honed by months of blindly preparing food in the kitchen and bringing it up the stairs to her waiting mouth.
Her body continued to expand, with her belly now buddha-like in its roundness. Atop it rested her enormous breasts, each one the size of a melon, and held firm and aloft by the powers of her mind alone – since she could barely fit into a bra anymore, Heather had decided to instead use a psychic one instead. Her hips and ass had continued their own growth, giving her a true apple posterior, and thankfully, through a combination of careful exercises and a little mental encouragement, her double chin had receded into a mere memory. Heather had taken to hovering her body in a constant cross-legged position, unfolding her legs only to sleep at night. This served to help disguise her height when dealing with normal people; she was now nearly eight and a half feet tall.
Dressed in form-fitting black spandex, she began heading out with her parents on missions, then, after proving herself in the field, she started receiving her own jobs. Wherever she went, her incredible body made a lasting impression on people. Her powers were still increasing, as was the size of her head; now nearly three feet wide, it was the largest that many people had ever seen. After her task was complete, she would allow them to touch it, since they all wanted to; it took all of Heather’s considerable will to not explode in orgasm during these sessions.
A series of boyfriends came and went, all of them psychic, all of them enamored with her enormity. Psychics were always attracted to other psychics, and each of them held Heather’s interest for a while, but eventually they were discarded as she grew bored of their antics. None seemed able to commiserate with what the experience of having so much power coursing through their skull was like, the incredible rush of lifting entire villages block by block without lifting a finger was simply unimaginable for them.
It was in this state of productive boredom that Heather was summoned to the distant governing body of the psychics of the world. In theory, they were responsible for all psychic activity on the planet. In practice, they were little more than a travel agency for getting the psychically-gifted to the places in the world where their skills were most needed. They also could be asked for advice and suggestions, and were seen by the rest of the world as polite anachronism, like a medieval trade union. Heather had never been to their headquarters.
As she approached, she was impressed with the amount of mental energy that the converted castle in the Alps gave off. While obvious – it was full of psychics – its dense web of mental energy drew Heather in like a candle in the dark.
Inside, Heather was greeted by a woman with a medium-sized skull, perhaps a foot across. “Miss O’Brien, it was Miss Regan Murdoch who asked for your company. This way, please.” She let Heather through the castle’s twisty passages, finally arriving beside a tall wooden door.
“Enter,” came a voice from within, before either of them had a chance to knock.
“Miss Murdoch,” Heather’s guide said, and ushered Heather inside.
“Hello, Heather,” Regan said. Heather simply gazed at the woman before her in amazement.
She was stretched out over a pile of pillows on the floor, which was the only furniture in the room, and most have been at least twelve feet tall. She was incredibly corpulent, her body appearing as if it had been inflated with fat. Most of her weight appeared concentrated in her domed belly, which put Heather’s to shame. Regan’s breasts were each nearly as large as Heather’s entire body, and her thighs were enormous, firm but fat, and probably wider than Heather’s entire body. Atop all of this rested her skull, which was nearly six feet wide and as beautiful as any Heather had ever seen.
“I summoned you here, Heather, because I sense in you a kindred soul,” she said, hands caressing her belly as she spoke. “We are both blessed to be able to consume and grow without natural limit, without end, and I have long wished for someone to share in this blessing with.” She shifted, and Heather felt her pussy twitch uncontrollably at the view. “Come, let us commune.”
Heather stepped forward and gingerly touched her hand to Regan’s. In an instant, they were joined, their two titanic minds sharing the same slice of eternity. Nothing was held back; not Regan’s fear when her hair started falling out, not Heathers’ incredible orgasms from caressing her own brow, not their mutual love of food and growth and constant, eternal expansion. Heather could not have guessed how long the moment lasted, but she felt as if she had lived another lifetime alongside hers; Regan, the same person, her mirror image, the one whom she knew would complete her, physically and mentally.
They disengaged, panting and flushed, and gazed with infinite passion into each other’s eyes. There was no need for words anymore; they were still communicating psychically, a constant torrent of subvocal sharing that went beyond any union that Heather or Regan had experienced before. Heather would stay there, they both knew, at Regan’s side, growing and expanding as a perfect, fated pair.
They kissed.
