‘In his first year, he impregnated 102 women. As the son of a bitch wasn’t too exceptionally fertile back then, he managed an average of ‘only’ 1.8 kids per woman. Still, in a single year… he had 184 children.’
The woman’s heart jolted in her chest.
‘A hundred… and eighty!…’
‘Oh, my dear, now’s when the math starts getting interesting. Our male doesn’t impregnate our ladies just once; in reality, as soon as he senses they’re fertile again after giving birth to his kids…’
‘…he knocks them up again —every year, year after year, nonstop!’
The woman suddenly spread her legs open, making the dark spot on her pants… squiiiiiiissh… grow.
‘What did you say?’
‘The man is a bull.’ Another soldier continued. ‘Actually… a literal bull, wild in state of nature, wouldn’t be able to match his numbers.’
And another soldier:
‘He’s one of the most fertile beings in all the mammalian family. Even rats or rabbits can’t compare to his legendary fecundity.’
The general cut them both:
‘As soon as a woman gives birth to his children… as soon as possible, he goes back to fecundating her. The same works for every single lady in his harem —which, I must remind you, never stops growing.’
The poor journalist only swallowed up dryly, barely believing what she heard, but also barely avoiding the temptation of asking, nearly begging for more juicy information:
‘What else… what else does he…?’
The general continued:
‘From his second year of breeding onwards, his fertility became… truly scary.’ His face sunk into darkness. ‘That second year, his harem had 250 women… all of whom were impregnated! At year’s end, an average of 2.4 kids was registered. If you’re keeping track, my dear, that’s 544 sons and daughters.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. In his second year of coitus, he had already become one of the most fertile men in history.’
The reporter’s heart couldn’t keep still in one place, much like her enormous, extraordinarily thick legs couldn’t stop stretching the fabric of her pants after crossing so many times.
Cold sweat began to appear on her face, yet the general pressed on without mercy:
‘You should get a calculator, dear, because the math is going to get insanely complex from now on.’
The general breathed in deep and kept narrating the biblical fecundity of his soldier.
* * * * *
The whole world froze to the reporter. She wanted to know… but at the same time… she didn’t know whether she had the strength to bear what she was about to hear!
Gluuurb, gluuuurbb.. splooooshhh!! Her breasts ejaculated yet more teaspoons-worth of milk. A small dark smear began to show over the fabric on each of her breasts.
It was official: the woman was about to be majorly embarrassed before all the soldiers —yet, strangely, she seemed not to care at all.
‘P-please, s-sir… t-tell me: how many more kids did he have… at 23??’
The general gave her the intel straight, cold and blunt:
The number, however, was so vast that it flew over the reporter’s head, without actually coming close to entering her ears.
The general calmly detailed:
‘At 23, with a harem as big as 1,273 ladies… two hundred more than in the previous year… he inseminated each one of his ladies with an average of 3.9 kids, totaling… yeah: 5,092 children.’
The woman felt a ferocious squeeze between her thighs. The general, nonetheless, kept talking swiftly:
‘The whole score of kids he had sired by then… stood at 25,803.’
The woman leaned forward, almost dropping her equipment, feeling all the air leave her body.
Many soldiers approached:
‘Ma’am, please tell us what’s going on.’
She looked at them, then finally to the general, who knew all too well what was going on.
‘You’re aroused, aren’t you?’ The old man proceeded, very patiently. ‘Your newspaper should have sent someone a little tougher. If you’re already like that just by hearing about our man’s feats, what’s gonna happen when you actually meet him?’
The woman breathed deep, feeling a full ocean drip from her pussy.
Her nipples were so steel-hard they almost literally ripped two holes on her shirt. The soldiers then finally noticed the dark smears on her clothes.
‘Holy shit…!’ Some exclaimed.
The woman immediately rose, took another deep breath, and gave one more ample opportunity for the soldiers to see the other, bigger smudge in the middle of her legs.
‘I’m so sorry, b-but… all of this is… I need to…’ She lowered her head and tried to focus. ‘Can I have a moment alone?’
The soldiers looked to one another.
‘What would you like to do?’
She pinched her own arms and looked to the door, picturing the long white corridor in her mind.
‘Is there any bathroom nearby?? I mean, a more… private one? Just for us ladies??’
The soldiers looked at each other again, whispering something she couldn’t (or didn’t want to) make out.
‘Two doors on the right. You’ll….’
‘General!’ As soon as she got the directions, she reached out to the senior officer. ‘Could you give me… uh, this clipboard… these data sheets about the soldier?’
After thinking for a while, the officer gave her the document.
‘What do you have in mind, dear?’
She tried to answer something, anything, but she knew none of the excuses she could concoct would amount to anything.
Instead, she simply turned around and walked towards the door.
‘I’ll be back in a pinch… if you excuse me.’
As she closed the door on her back, she could hear the many laughs in the room. None of that disturbed her, however.
«I need to…! Oh!! I need to…!»
Desperately, with the documents in hand, she looked for the bathroom, where she would finally get…
‘Oooow…!!’ …some fucking release!