Boobs. Breasts. Titties. Knockers. Shakers. Milk-makers. Gazongas. He’d spent the entire morning looking at breasts, and those weren’t even half of all titties he’d have to work with until dawn.
He stretched long and lazily in his chair, both happy and annoyed by the nature of his work. It could get tiresome, you know, working with the same damned thing all day long, day after day in the week, all four weeks of the month, for months and months on end until there were no more months left to waste. «‘Tis what I like doing, though,» he reflected, «so I guess it could be worse, right? So much worse.»
Playing with pictures all day long, building beautiful covers for raunchy and erotic books. Most of his clients used to write tasteless romances to be sold online for peanuts, yet sometimes he got the occasional big gig or had to edits so particularly nasty the clients were pretty much willing to pay him whatever he asked («if not me,» he reasoned, «who’d work for these degenerates? Psycopaths?»).
He looked at his computer and admired the sumptuous cleavages shining on the screen. They were all nubile beauties with overdeveloped, lactating breasts, their dresses stained with their overflowing milk, and the naked figures dripping with hot, thick mommy nectar from their nipples.
It was a lactation thing, the niche for that particular client, and his penis couldn’t quite decide whether to be hard or soft with those images. “I need you to make them all milk.” His client had especifically instructed: “breasts. All ‘em tits. Big tits, all lactating. The dresses are almost tearing up, you know, ‘cause ‘em tits so big! Really hot. Some them, really nasty tits, huge gazongas. I want them tits naked, shooting milk. Not all covers. Some covers, nasty tits covered. Some covers naked, big tits free. You got it? I tell which cover which. You cover tits and you not cover tits when I tell you, okay? Very fine. You can name price. I pay for first cover, just one cover, okay, with the tits out, then we see if we continue work, okay?”
There were really strange, uncommon types asking for gigs all the time, and he really didn’t mind them, quirks and all. As long as they paid, all clients were equal. «It would be nice, though, to make money without having to work for it.» To be born an heir, that would have been a sweet life. To be born beautiful, from a great family, attending top American schools, dating all the girls there, knowing that all the problems of his life would be taken care of because he was a spoiled-as-fuck trust fund kid. «I wish I were spoiled.» He sighed, returning to work after a long sip of coffee. «Life sucks when you’re not.»
The cover was partially done. He needed to add all the shine and polish, however, which could almost be another whole work in and on itself. He added a few effects on the tits, making them gleam like sweat, like dropplets of morning dew on their soft, velvety skins.
All the time he sucked his lips and bit them very lightly, his mouth getting drier as the hours mounted. The skirts of those nubile vixens were just short enough so one could think they saw their panties—a Sharon Stone-crossing of the legs type of effect, though way less artistic. Their asses, hips, and legs were just as he liked them: wide, thick, and meaty. Those were healthy, strong teenagers brimming with fertility and life, good wombs ready to produce great babies, their thight cunts inviting of big, unyielding cock worthy of their lush, fruitful innards.
His dick got a little softer as he thought of the kinds of men who could have such young beauties on their arms. «Men who are the total opposite of me.» His eyes swelled, and the pressure in his head got distracting, if not painful at times, to the point that he found himself struggling to focus. As it happened, the combination of six unbroken hours of work, three liters of coffee, and a lifetime of sexual frustration wasn’t a great recipe for his head.
He stood up. His penis made a tent in his lose shorts. A small tent, mind you, but still a noticieable one. «Some men ain’t even have this luxury,» he sighed, adjusting his cock on his pants and walking to the bathroom in his room.
Pants down. Cock up. Right hand down. Left hand on the wall. Jerk off.
He hated the mirror in front of him. Always forced him to look at himself, that bastard! He could try another position, but that was the absolute best one in the tiny bathroom. Everytime he accidently got a glimpse of his reflection, he felt he could rip his dick off in anger. To mitigate that, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine the kind of man he would have loved to see instead in the reflection: that kind of big-dicked, muscular studs who would have the girls just like the ones he edited into his covers.
In the porn videos of his mind, he imagined not himself, but other men fucking his women. Men he knew he would never be. Men he wished he’d been born as, but had been cursed never to be: big, hulking, hairy muscular daddies teaching those uptight little sluts a lesson. He would imagine their orgasms and their fountains of squirt. Rows of women standing in a line, waiting to be fucked by a single, tireless bison. Kings and noblemen in the Middle Ages used to have harems like those: dozens, if not hundreds of pussies on the side, ready to always satiate their masters’ needs whenever required. That’s the perk of wealth and power: all the finest pussy in the world.
He felt the sweat running down his cheeks. His breath was uneven, his head almost exploding. He hated himself for it, but his cock sure felt nice—and it was his cock, not his head, that needed explosion. “Oh, god!” He would imagine this one glorious, beautiful male, with his body sculpted in marble, his face carrying the smile of someone who never had a problem in his life, fucking rows and rows of ladies who could barely contain their own orgasms, one after another passing out with the mere penetration of his giant cock head on their squirting, quivering queenies.
“Oh, god, what…” He rolled his eyes and moaned: “what a man!”
He shot his load on the mirror: pitiful threads of transparent white, almost a watery goo without an ounce of the virility to be expected from real jizz. He jerked himself harder, trying to coax more of that paltry paste from his cock, but that was it. His hardened member was only a little bigger than his palm side-to-side, and his ejaculate was just as pathetic. In disbelief, he watched his semen slide on the mirror as the image of that powerful stud, still fucking his harem of mares, was still etched into his mind.
He came when he had come; and when he had come, oh, it was an orgasm like no other!
The beastly Alpha roared like a lion, thundered like a bull warning off his rivals. His load was enough to make a woman full for the rest of her life; both with his massive cock inside of her and his massive load now filling her up, she felt full like with no other man—or group of men—could ever fill her, stretched beyond the limits of even her wildest fantasies, and experiencing more orgasms with a single thrust of that stud than she had with all the (many) losers in her love life.
That was the image in his mind when he came with his eyes close: a giant, muscular stud ejaculating hot and hard in the womb of his submissive lover. The ejaculation of a powerful conqueror of cunts! The sexual apotheosis of a Real ManTM, not the petty little dribbling of flabby-dicked boy like him.
He cleaned off the semen from the mirror and returned to work, feeling sadly hornier. «Fuck.» Jerking off usually helped to clear the mind, but that one session had been innefective at best. He felt like dying, honestly, with the pressure under his eyes so strong he needed to squint, squeeze, and scratch them from time to time just to set his mind straight and his thoughts clear.
He always felt like dying, but never like killing himself. It would have been so much better if he’d just… never woke up one day, or had never existed at all in the first place. Never having been born. Never having to waddle through all that load of bullshit.
He stared at his own reflection in the dark areas of the computer screen, seeing his bonecheeks produding through his pale skin. Though he now made some effort in leaving his cubicle every once in a while, that country knew no sun; its summers would be winters back in his homeland, and its winters could barely look like planet Earth in some days.
No, it wasn’t a nice country at all to live in, yet thousands of people risked their lives every day to set their feet on those frosty shores. «Nature sucks, but people are nice.» His mind drifted back to his old place, where «people sucked, but nature was nice.»
Was there anywhere a good combination of both? He sure tried to find it: the Americans had long neglected the astounding fertility of their land, choosing instead to splinter into a life of petty, tribalistic squabbles, and they never wanted any business with foreigners like him anyway. He was mediocre and unambitious; definitely not cut from the superior cloth of the Yankee race.
France was the next best thing, but the country too was involved it own, peculiar sort of domestic squabbles to make room for mudblooded peasants like him. Everywhere else in Europe was a raging clusterfuck, just like Asia a few years prior. Would the Europeans end up just as as fucked as the easterns? Their entire continent turned into a depleted battlefield? Its massive populace, into a zombified, mechanized mass of slaves threading and toiling endlessly over the torn-out, bombed-to-oblivion fields that had once housed Earth’s fastest-growing, most technologically-dominant civilizations?
Of the East’s sad fate, only Japan, claimed the experts, remained a viable country to live in, and he even looked into immigration to that strange, unwelcoming land, but the Japanese indeed would rather all bomb the world to oblivion then to allow a single one of his kind even land a boat on the tiniest, most remotest island of their entire bloodied archipelago.
Through trial and error, rejection and capitulation, then, he ended up there, as close to the North Pole as humans could get without abandoning society altogether, almost as if the very edges of the planet, where the scraps of civilization fell, were the only place left for a scrap of human like himself.
Sighing with mild content, he lifted his shirt and looked at his belly. Damn! He could count his ribs on his chest. «Eat more.» He thought, but on most days his lips would know only the taste of coffee. He wasn’t particularly tall, and by no means could he ever be considered hadsome. Cute? Maybe, but even that would have been a stretch for some. He had a pathethically oblong face, like a piece of shit after being stomped by a boot on the sidewalk, and a nose too flat and wide in a skin too pale and graceless—African sharpness without African warmth; Caucasian blandness without Caucasian smoothness. He sometimes looked more like the sketch of a human being than a human proper—as if he’d been God’s first draft for Adam before He discarded it and started all over.
His release had given him no release. It had only made him needier. The heat and the touch of those young, virgin beauties; that’s what he needed! Sweet, inexperienced girls who nonetheless rocked the massive boobs and ass and thighs of ravenous succubi; lovely-looking angels with tight pussies swelling under their pink panties, their gazes like those of sex-starved demonesses in angelic faces with bright-colored eyes.
He leaned closer to the screen, wanting to lick the women through the pixels. The sooner he finished, he reasoned, the sooner his thirst would be quenched. He rubbed his thin thighs against one another constantly, adding extreme amounts of detail to those women, making them little by little more untouchable and impossibly erotic compared to any real one. By the end of his shift, it was night already. The cup of latte just kept magically refilling itself as the hours rolled over one another, without him ever noticing, and his stomach grumbled, churned, and turned in demand of some real food.
He reviewed each and every one of his finished covers before sending them off to his horny client for approval. They were all beautiful works of smut that would also sell beautifully. There was a fizzle of pride in his heart; all but a speck of the emotion he used to feel when he’d started that work, so many years ago, as an act of desperation rather than inspiration, trying to make some money—any money!—to keep himself from starving. It had been sheer, dumb luck that led him to his first clients and taught him that, no, he was not entirely useless, and it was over this sheer, dumb luck that he founded his entire career, built his entire life upon.
Though he was a loner and a crooked fuck—an autistic twat with as much social graces as a bat in daylight—he was not, despite everything everyone had ever told him, an absolute zero. No. He was zero point something. And it was that filthy, smutty something that managed to pay for all his needs and helped him to escape his compatriots and captors, finding solitude, even peace on the farthest edges of the Earth.
He both hated and pitied them. His people. They were not guilty of the rottenness of their souls, but that didn’t help ease the pain of all they had done to him back in his youth. From the day he was born to the day he would die, he would carry all those massive bags of shithead in his mind. His body would grow weary and weak, but the shit, the heavy pile of psycho-dung in his skull, it would remain the same size, the same weight, if not grow even heavier, bending his spine until it cracked and sent him (hopefully) into an early grave.
*Click!* He pressed the button and sent the covers. With a long sigh, he leaned back on his chair, thinking if maybe he should relax a bit. «No.» Another mind within his mind interjected. «I need money.» He carried on to the next client instead.
Money, yes, money. It was money that allowed him to escape his wretched place and rent that little piece of paradise. The nature of freelancing was just as unforgiving as it could be occasionally, rarely very fulfilling: some days you made bank, some days the bank made you. He both envied and despised the stability of more “formal” types of workers, who never had to worry (too much) about their next paycheck, but who also ended becoming such tame, compliant sheep—even evil sheep, on some cases: sheep who, to protect their beloved stability, were always ready to slander, to steal, to smear, or to vote for fascists.
There’s nothing as sad and pitiful as a man in a cubicle. It was like the anti-habitat of a human: the white walls of an air-conditioned office building, the thumping of the fingers on the keyboard, the occasional chat and sneeze of the coworkers, the mortifying buzz and hum of productivity.
He wanted their perks without their leash: a good salary, a career ladder, a nice dental plan without those detestable cubicles to rot away in Excel sheets, moving money from there to here and here to there, all for the fat profits of his uncaring masters, a mere engine to power the easy, unmerited luxuries of his robber barons—barons whose sons, by the way, would all end up tall and handsome and muscular; real studs meant to fuck, marry, and mingle with only the best females of the world, breeding the future princes and kings of humanity, who would go on to continue the endless line of injustice, oppression, and inequality that kept poor blokes like him on the mud—or rather, on the cubicle.
Sons of prosperity, heirs to happiness. How despicable was their existence, and how wondrous would be to have it!
He bit his lips, dreaming with the better rolls of the dice as he read the assignment from a different client. This time, at least, he wouldn’t have to suffer (too much) from his thirst: it was a regular set of covers for yet another run-of-the-mill series of wishy-washy romances. All very girly and very innocent, not the type of work which would require rolls of luscious lactating breasts; not the type of imagery that would have stirred too many emotions inside his flailing, wheezing dick.
Or so he thought.
The covers were in the style of old arcade romantic sagas, with a damsel on the strong, thick arms of a dark, shirtless, muscle-bound, long-maned man. He was already tantalized by the women—big-bosomed beauties whose tight, light dresses highlighted every curve of their healthy, fertile bodies, making them often more erotic than if outright naked—, but it were the men who completely threw him off.
As he laid his eyes on those studs, his penis grew harder yet again. The image was just as arousing as the not-naked-but-still-very-naked virgins. And painful. So bloody painful! The aggressive muscles of those studs, whose pants bulged generously around their crotches, carrying massive meat sticks between their thick, hairy legs, all of it reminded him of a virility he would never possess. Their legs were built like Greek columns, their torsos wide and massive and firm as the back of horses, with pectorals so enormous a single halve of their chest was wider than his whole torso.
He admired their six-, sometimes eight-pack of gorgeous abdominals, the shinny and lustrous hairs that adorned their chests, as well as the beautiful dark manes of their heads, and sometimes the vast, well-kept beards on their manly, chiseled jaws.
The boy picked his computer and stood up abruptly, almost knocking the coffee mug from his desk as he ran again back to the bathroom. He barely shut the door as he put the laptop on the sink, lowered his trousers and began to masturbate to the images of those powerful stallions. He closed his eyes and moaned as he beheld those portraits of obscene masculinity, getting in heat with the abundance of meat and muscles in those larger-than-life bodies. The images were rarely pornographic, but it wasn’t the prospect of their glorious, naked bodies that got him off; it was the sheer confidence in their posture, their gazes, their firm, authoritarian eyes commanding respect without a word.
The perfection of their physiques, living statues out of marble, contrasted with the flabby misery of his own. The thought of him being dominated by those studs—being chained to the bed and hand-whipped by their powerful hands, chocked by their swollen biceps while they sinfully sodomized him like wild males in heat, all of it brought him over the edge.
“Oh, god!!” He rolled his eyes and leaned to the the mirror, getting an glimpse of his reflex before immediately averting his gaze. Too late: the image of his own self got his penis softer and delayed the inevitable explosion. He needed to bathe his mind on those hundreds of powerful, virile bulls to get his cock hard and manly again.
Many of those males wore only black or white boxers, leaving little to the imagination about the size and sturdiness of their genitalia. Some clients asked him to make the bulges bigger, but he scarcely needed to be told that before editing them into obscenely well-endowed hunks, looking like they packed an elephant trunk and a pair of mangos in their boxers.
As he furiously beat his meat, he “accidently” clicked on the folders containing more pornographic images. «Jesus!» The naked crotches flaunted cocks so big and beautiful he almost felt them slapping his face through the screen. His penis vibrated and his balls shrank, filling the bathroom with squishy noises as he prematurely unleashed his load. “Oh, god!!” He almost lost the strength on his legs. “Oh, god!! Oh!! Oh!” He leaned desperately with an arm to the mirror, where his semen was barely visible—all two squirts of it.
He accidently took another peek of himself, and this time he didn’t avert his gaze so quickly. He stared at his reflection and let the anger brew. He almost felt the urge of spitting in his own image; at making a clone of himself and clubbing him to death. «Was that what they felt when they saw me?» The saliva was spilling out of his lips. «This great disgust and hatred?»
His fist was closed. He could almost throw a punch if the glow of his computer screen hadn’t caught his attention before. There, he noticed he had indeed shot more than two pitiful ropes of semen, as another one had actually hit the upper tab of his screen, prompting him to quickly scramble for some toilet paper to clean it up. As he wiped the cum off his computer, his fingers slid over the model’s hair on the screen, like a cuddle. He gazed upon that massive, muscular body, all culminating on a thick, long, soft penis that dangled between its huge, veiny legs, like the absolute pendulum of virility that it was.
The man was obscenely packed. His balls were so big and full the boy could see their bloated outline from behind the cock. Was that what a Real Man looked like? He’d never seen any in real life to compare (certainly not naked), though even the fake cartoon males or porn actors didn’t sport a penis so fabulously fat and gorgeous as that one. The fact that it was soft only made it more imposing, like a third leg so ungodly thick no hand could wrap its fingers fully around its girth. The big, main vein on it was very salient, with smaller, plentiful veins sprawing from it like branches through the rest of the gargantuan womb-smasher. It was such a big and heavy penis it looked like he needed an extra portion of blood just to keep it up there, dangling on his hips without falling off and rotting away.
His penis grew harder again. He felt like spending whole hours just looking at that model of masculinity. He ran his fingers across the screen, imagining his touch on that firm, rock-hard Alpha male, and wished for a moment that he was the Alpha male, before dropping the silly though and imagining himself instead being dominated, beaten, fucked raw in the ass by that powerful hairless bison, that raging human bull, that tireless fertile stallion. The shallowness of his own cum couldn’t compare to the scortching, heavy broth that bull was sure to cum on his ass, or to the massive buckets of load he came on the tight pussies of his hundreds of lovers. “A man like this…” He muttered to himself, touching his own pecs, pinching and twisting and pulling his own nipples, “must ejaculate like a fucking firehose.”
The minutes went by as he imagined himself being humiliated, subjugated by that mighty male in all manners of sexual depravity. Though his dick was fully hard again, his balls were probably as dry as the Cerrado. Nevermind. He was not supposed to be the virile partner there, after all. The man was. He had more pleasure imagining that stud plowing him with brutality or—even better—humiliating and derogating him before his harem of fertile females, than actually being that super stud or having sex with all those women himself.
He imagined himself as a better, richer man, for instance, trying to get a lay with a beautiful woman in a party. Then that stud, that Alpha male appeared and very easily stole the woman from his arms, laughing at him while heading to his bedroom, ready to take the prize on his own bed.
His dreams changed, yet remained the same: he imagined himself with a beautiful girlfriend, only to have her stolen by the stud. Then, the Alpha made him watch as he fucked his own girl, showing him how a real man fucked, mocking him at every opportunity as he took his woman to even greater heights of pleasure, her body twitching and her eyes rolling as he managed to extract one squirting orgasm after another out of her battered pussy.
It didn’t end there: after she was laid conquered and wrecked and ruined on the bed, the male withdrew that gorgeous pipeline of a penis from her and proceeded to jerk it off with both hairy, masculine hands over her body. As she panted and slowly recovered her breath, the overmuscular stud turned to him and demanded: “why don’t you feed your girlfriend a real man’s cock, huh?” The boy, in turn, just stood there, befundled, barely understading his Alpha’s words.
“Do you want this cock again?” The huge male asked his submissive princess. “Tell your pussy boyfriend how badly you want this cock.”
She resisted, she bit her lips, but she inevitably relented, looking almost pitifully to the boy: “yesss. I want this cock!”
“Then ask your boyfriend to put it inside you.” He laughed, clearing any lingering trace of doubt: “not his pencil dick, of course. My cock.” He grabbed his manhood. “Tell him to come here and guide my stallion cock into yout cunt.” They were both shocked by the command, and he, the little boy, almost had tears in his eyes when his girlfriend finally relented, the ectasy dripping on her voice: “please, honey… do as he says.”
He crawled towards them on his knees, weeping and yelping like a hurt puppy, a lonely tear sliding down his cheeks, and grabbed that massive penis as respectifully as he could, like the handling of a divine relic, and felt its hardness, its lusciousness, its liveness, its granite-and-steel texture, as well as the its immense girth, taking the chance to also touch his immense, throbbing balls, who were so full of virile semen you could hear it sloshing inside.
“Good pup.” The mighty male fondled his cheeks. “Now, put this cock where it belongs.”
He moved the penis inside his girlfriend’s pussy, seeing her being wholly stretched by the helmet of that monstrous manhood. «Oh, my god!» He thought to himself, moaning in the bathroom. «His head alone is bigger than my whole penis!»
“Deeper.” The Alpha commanded, and he silently wept as he pushed the cock deeper into the woman, seeing parts of her groin bulge as the immense serpent penetrated her innermost womanhood. “Look how deep I can reach, and I’ve got barely a third of my cock in her.” He silently obliged, guiding inch after inch of that endless cock inside the woman. “Now…” The male leaned to her and sucked her tits, making her moan and wet herself like crazy, “feel it. I’m deeper than any man has ever been in her, and there’s still another half of cock to go.”
In the end, the man could never fully penetrate her. The cock easily hit her cervix with many inches still left outside her cooch. Sadly (for both partners), she didn’t quite enjoy cervical penetration, therefore, with utmost control, his body being both a force of destruction and ecstasy, the stallion proceeded to fuck her pussy senseless for another whole hour, drawing so many orgasms out of her that the poor little being didn’t know what’d hit her when it was all set and done. She yelped, screamed, moaned, and fainted more times than anyone could count, and the little man, both within the dream and in the bathroom, came hard by watching that superior male conquer the ever-living soul of his lover.
Despite his third ejaculation, no semen left his penis. His little, shrived balls were exhausted—the exact opposite of the raging stallion in his dreams, who nutted like ten men inside his girlfriend. Still, the pleasure was even more sublime, and he found himself fumbling his own buttocks, teasing his asshole with his index finger as he descended from ecstasy and found himself again, rather anticlimactically, on the same dark, dreary bathroom, in front of the mirror still smeared by his previous load.
The computer was still on, its screen slightly dimmed after so many minutes of inactivity. “What a man,” he muttered softly, and then more loudly so: “what a man.” The swelling of his eyes got more pronounced, and he closed the laptop quietly and returned to his desk. «Fuck,» he thought. «That’s three jerk-offs.»
He didn’t like the habit a lot, though he admitted it was the only thing that kept he sane, even alive. «Fuck idiot.» He hated himself for having failed to remain “chaste,” nutting three times in the same day and still not feeling sathed. «You fucking piece of shit.» He opened the laptop and stared at the same erotic image of the stud dominating the busty damsel, with his wide shoulders and Greek-column-thick arms. The sight of his exposed, muscular back got his penis twitchy again, and by the end of that shift, a few minutes past two in the morning, he had jerked off again in his seat, without even taking his pants off, making a mess of both it and his underwear.
He changed his clothes quickly, and half-heartedly cleaned the bathroom mirror, where his semen had nearly solidified, leaving two tiny, ugly smudges in the glass. He was in no mood to do anything else. After sending those last covers to the client, he sank into the bed with his head heavy, aching and throbbing like his brain had morphed into a nest of hornets. «This doll… this doll…» He though to himself, holding back the flood in his eyes, «she can’t arrive soon enough.»
His fingers hovered on the keyboard. Tits. His eyes gazed upon two glorious breasts. He moved the mouse cursor over the “size” option, clicked the dropdown menu, and hovered over the many available options: C, double-C, D-, double-D, E, double-E, F, double-F.
The standard was double-C, which was still some of the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. He’d rarely consumed porn. Too fake. Too ugly. «Porn women ain’t real women,» he used to think. They were, however, much more real than that, weren’t they?
He wasn’t sure. Those breasts looked much more natural—much more real—than the breasts he’d ever seen in porn. Only the titillating titties of film stars, in the rare moments when they were allowed to shine onscreen, could compare. For all purposes, those breasts were real and gorgeous—yet he wondered if they could be even more so.
He clicked on the double-D option. His eyes almost left his skull. He spread his legs a bit, adjusting his posture on the chair, and felt the fire burning in his groin. Those were truly astounding tits.
«Jesus!» He was amazed by the realness of the pair: their softness, their roundness, their hazelnut shape. It seemed too good to be true—and, given his line of work, a pinch of skepticism was always warranted. After all, there were only images were available. A video or two wouldn’t be too much to ask for, would it? Unless the sellers were trying to hide something.
«Still… looks so good, though!»
Yes, it did, and for a damn good reason: if there was a brand that could only stand to lose with false advertisement, it was that one. The most expensive dolls in the market, and one of the few notable companies of its kind that had managed to break into the mainstream: the big papers, the big shows, the big tellies, it seemed that everyone had written or talked about it. Celebrities had gone on camera to gush about their experiences with their products. Sex houses in the Old Riverlands even offered them for people who preffered them over real women—real whores, that is.
“More real than the real deal” was their tagline, and his hard penis seemed to concur. «Fucking… hot!» He found himself rubbing one thigh on other, stimulating his member, even touching and rubbing his pants with his palm, nearly hypnotized into jerking himself off. He shook his hand and moved his warm, cock-smelling fingers back to the mouse.
«Fuck. If this is the reaction a fucking doll has on me…»
He didn’t finish his trail of thoughts. The rest of it was clear and predictable, yes, but still he felt like he should have finished it. When he spoke, in fact, rare was the sentence that ended up intact. He mostly broke them in the middle, too afraid and too ashamed for having spelled them in the first place.
With pressure in the back of his eyes, he selected the largest option: double-F. Now the breasts, once glorious and gorgeous, were bloated into abnormal ballons of titflesh—so much tit that the damned milkers went down to the woman’s navel. He had to click on the previous option several times, instinctively, just too erase that hideous image off his head. He didn’t judge it, though. There certainly were people who liked that sort of stuff. «People will fuck anything, really.» He looked to his own body. «Except me, I guess.»
The double-D breasts were big—massive, in fact—but still believably so. He liked breasts that huge and shapely, much more than most men. The thought of their fertility aroused him. The perfection of the dolls nipples made him pucker his lips and gently suck in the air. He wanted to eat those tits and suck their imaginary milk. Were those globbets of mommy love real, they would certainly be lush, hot, and delightful to touch, never for a day dry of their creamy content, their life-giving nectar.
He was so much closer to the screen, puckering his lips like he was trying to kiss it. He spent so long looking at that doll that he’d basically forgot it was night already, and that most of his room was falling into darkness. Only the burning of the screen in his eyes woke him up. When he straightened up and moved his chair back, his penis hit the top of his desk, forming a visible tent on his pants—a small tent, but a tent nonetheless. At the tip, he could already see a moist, sticky smudge in the fabric. He was lubricating himself, but not yet so aroused that he felt he needed to leave the bedroom and let off some steam—and spunk—in the bathroom.
«Damn!» He bit his lips. «The breasts even got weight on them!» He loved the way the tits arched down on the chest, pulled by gravity. Their silicon (and whatever materials they were made of) was so smooth it actually behaved like real skin in a real breast of such size—or at least, well, how he imagined a real breast would behave. It was firm, yet still meaty; dense and heavy like it was full of milk and healthy fat, but still soft in a very natural, human way.
He spent maybe half an hour looking at those knockers, gawking at their shape, rubbing his penis between his thighs. When he accidently zoomed out and had another look at the full body of his goddess, he very nearly lost it.
She was even hotter the second time around. Exactly his type. «Oh, Jesus!» Poor boy was nearly drooling! Her name was Yara (spelled “Iara,” but who cares), and the site described her as “powerful queen of a long-lost Amazonian tribe.” They even had a cute bio for her, story and all. Just the right amount of cheese to be served with good wine:
Yara is a tall, muscle-bound Amazon for the fearless soldier who love ‘em rough. A goddess amongst queens, leader of women and lover of men, endowned with mystical powers of the forest spirits, this steadfast, unwearying warrior is a match for any men in both the battlefield and the bed. An avid horse-rider and thirsty cock-rider. Are you strong enough to take on her? Nights of fire and fury await!
She stood at exactly six feet tall, and had enough muscle to set herself leagues above even very fit ladies. She clearly belonged to a more risqué, niche selection of the company, and her price tag dearly reflected that.
She wasn’t no monster. She wasn’t no lady either. She was, indeed, like a comic book superheroine, only a little more buff. She had aggressive, bountiful breasts and butt paired with a lady-like trim waist, wide hips, and legs big and powerful as a horse’s. Her construction was so perfect he could even see the strains of the muscle fibers on her thighs, which themselves were each as thick as his own whole waist.
She was big. She was buff. A true gem in an otherwise very samey, predictable roster of babes. Her rareness was only accentuated by a glaring red text blinking above her pictures: “LAST UNITS REMAINING!”
Very few dolls had that sign. «Fuck!» He hated to be pressured for a buy, and he knew how those lame sales techniques worked. On the other hand, he usually could sense when such pressure was valid. Though he had flirted with that kind of buy for a long time, only now did everything seem to align: he had his own apartment and enough savings for such a purchase to not sting him (well, not too much).
«Hundred and fifty grand.» That doll was basically a car. «Fuck.»
It seemed fair, however. She was so tall and thick she easily used up more silicon than two, if not three regular dolls. «She’s just! So! Big!» He admired the thick veins carefully sculpted on her arms. «She’s just… so… pretty.»
Perfect. She felt perfect for him. Even after many years admiring girls of that body-type, he’d never actually found one quite so… right. «It’s like she’s custom made for me.» A doll blue-printed straight ouf of his fantasies. He looked deep into her eyes, captivated by her smooth, royal air of serenity. She really had that stern, peaceful look of a queen, that very suble grim of someone who’s perfectly confident in her own abilities, and who doesn’t need to brag or flaunt them even in the face of the staunchiest opponents.
She was, in short, so completely unlike him.
For a moment, the price didn’t seem to matter. Rather, it was whether he was worthy of even having her in the first place. «What a woman. Fuck.» Even that fake, silicon-based creature felt like too much of a woman for him.
He felt bad. Humiliated. He even considered closing the screen and going back to work—which he should have done about an hour earlier, really. It was foolish to dream with love. Better to not feed his heart any more false hopes.
His finger pressed the right button of the mouse very lightly. The muse’s stern look, however, kept him from hitting that red X on the screen. It was a firm, but caring gaze. Strong and loving. Hard and soft. Her facial features were beyond human—they were almost godly. Though her body was Spartan, her face was cherubic, like a beauty from some Mideastern background. Her skin was so much hotter and more lively than his own palish look. She struck a beautiful balance between the tenderness of Europeans and the strength of North Africans.
«She is, like… perfect. Absolutely perfect!» His eyes glided back to the annoying, blinking red sign: LAST UNITS REMAINING! It wouldn’t be a surprise if she were the very last doll in stock. He had seen that warning on some other premium offers before, and every time, once he least expected, poof!, someone bought the very last one of them, and he’d have to wait at a full year (usually longer) for them to come back on the shelves again. Some dolls weren’t even restocked, and instead replaced by new models entirely. What’s more, older dolls that happened to be resold on other places where offered for two, sometimes three times the original price—which begged the question: who the hell buys an used sex doll??
«From this company, well, I think that, for many people, it’s a risk worth taking.»
While he was thinking, the sign was blinking, the clock was ticking. His work apps were open on the taskbar of his computer, waiting for him to come back and be productive again. It was usual of him to stop in the middle of labor and just… daydream. To peruse useless shit online while thinking about better, more exciting things to do—things he’d never had the balls to do, and never would have.
A trip, a better job, a fresh start. «So many more people have such a worse time that I do!» He thought, punishing himself for being so ungrateful. «Such a worse lot in life.» He looked around his room, which was clean, organized, almost asceptic. «I could be worse off. So much worse off.»
If this line of thinking ever brought him any confort, though, he’d be the happiest man alive. Instead, it only got him mad. Or madder.
The powerful woman kept looking at him, her face both the same and slightly different at every gaze. More compassionate, even. It was like she knew what was going on in his mind; almost like… she was the one—and only one!—who could confort him in those times of need.
He couldn’t find the strength to close his browser—not when that could be the last time he’d ever see her again. «It went for sale yesterday. Yesterday!» He thought, biting his nails. «This red sign wasn’t there when I first saw her. Now, it’s almost out of stock.» Her face was so serene he could hear the waves of a calm ocean in it. «Like she’s begging me to buy her!» Like she was meant to be his!
His indecision got to a point where he found it easier to just get up his seat and walk in circles around his condo—not that it was a very long walk anyway: his apartment was just his bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room slash dining room, and a decently-sized storeroom, with a tiny corridor linking all them together—his bedroom and bathroom to one side, the store and kitchen to the other, and the dining/living room in the beginning of the hallway. It wasn’t considered a studio proper, but only because of some foxy technicality the realters used to upsell that property. It wasn’t a football field worth of space, no, and it wasn’t even his (being rented for a hefty price every six months at a time), but still… it was home—and much better than anything he’d ever thought he would ever get in life.
He walked around the place like it was his very first time. «So calm. So peaceful. Neither downtown, nor the suburbs.» He liked going to his tiny balcony and smelling the fresh air from that twelveth floor, from where he could see the calm ocean shimmering under the placcid northern skies. It was cold—almost bone-chillingly so—but he loved it that way. It made him fell much safer than the unstable, unforgiving hotness of his homeland.
Calmed by the view of the ocean, cooled by the air and the hypnotic sight of the few cars whistling by the streets below, he walked back into his bedroom, where the Amazon goddess still awaited. «You are never going to see me again,» she told him clearly, with all the words.
He looked down. His head felt heavy. A hundred and fifty grand were no piss money. «But, anyway, what else do I have to do with it?» He had worked for so long and lived for so little that he ended up sitting on a pile of cash. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it, for all those efforts to feel like… a waste? If there was one purchase his cash would be useful for, wouldn’t that one be the purchase of love? «Love. I will buy myself some love.»
He sat on the chair, his muse looking much softer, much warmer on the screen. That body! That tall, strong body! How firm and lovely should be her embrace, how tender and confident would her lips feel on his neck!
He refreshed the page. The dool was still there, but the sign… it seemed to be blinking faster, didn’t it? More unforgiving. It was now or never.
«Fuck.» He browsed through the many options for his doll, selecting the small details (he thought) he’d like the most: the type of her hair, the varnish on her nails, the texture of her skin, the color of her eyes. «Green.» He thought, finding the whole combination with her Middle Eastern skin very fascinating. «She looks absolutely beautiful with strong, Northern green eyes!» And so he chose it, going on to other details he felt a little embarrassed even having options for—like, were there really that many shapes of vagina in the world?
In the end, once he had assembled his perfect woman, he clicked the big, yellow buttom at the end of the page, and then only a credit card payment screen separated him from his true love.
He scrambled to find his card. Everything was tidy in his desk, and he wondered if he was being clumsy on purpose just to delay that process and to give himself some excuse to not purchase the doll, not change some things around. It wasn’t only the cost or his insecurities that hurt the most. No. To him, to buy that doll was to admit something intolerable; a truth he’d spent his whole life running away from, but that faced him every day, every time he looked at himself in mirror: «I am undesirable.»
With the card in his trembling hand, he typed the info very quickly, looking away from the screen as he hit the big, bright yellow “proceed” button.
A few seconds passed. After a flicker of the screen, his transaction was confirmed. His love was readied for shipment.
He stood there, unmoving, not a thought in his head. Whatever was done, was done. No reason crying about it now. Just out of curiosity, he went back to the salespage and hit the refresh button one last time. The red sign above the doll was no longer blinking. Instead, the words simply stated: “OUT OF STOCK.” He leaned back on his chair and smiled. «Maybe that wasn’t a bad decision after all.»
The Doll who Loved me is a serial novel about an incel being haunted by his sex doll.
[Read ***Part 7*** if you want to skip all my ramblings]
Part 1: My situation with Amazon (TLDR: been banned; ain’t going back)
Part 2: That book I kept talking about (hint: it’s about incels and haunted sex dolls)
Part 3: Release and readership (it’s FREE, baby!)
Part 4: Finally, my f#cking Patreon (come join the Gigi gang!)
Part 5: The good stuff—of horny futas, giant dongs, and everything in between
Part 6: The future of Gigi Potemkin (“what about NEW porn? I’m still waiting for more sweet-ass futa content, you know!”)
Part 7: So, in short… (TLDR of everything!)
Hey, there, my mares and stallions. My gals and pals. My dudes and dudettes. I hope you’ve been doing well these past few weeks.
I guess it’s high time I’m updating you on my whereabouts, as well as what I’ve been planning for you since I was kicked out of Amazon. These have been some pretty eventful past couple of months for me, and I’m very glad to finally get you all caught up on my plans.
Without any further ado…
Part 1: My situation with Amazon (TLDR: been banned; ain’t going back)
First of all, a bit of clarification on what most of you probably know by now: I have been banned from Amazon, yes, and I’m not going back—at least not for erotica.
Indeed, “banned” might not actually be the best word to describe the whole situation, as my account received only a temporary block from the Amazon admins.
To put it simply, the folks at Big Z didn’t quite like my writing—to be precise, they took umbrage with the content of the books—and temporarily suspended my account until I promised to clean up all the potentially “problematic books”—which, as it turns out, were all of them.
There are a handful of works still remaining on my sales page, as you can see, but even these are going to be removed as I expand into, say, “more serious” literary endeavors—which is the main subject of this update (read below; Part 2).
So, before we dive into the meat of this sandwich, a few more comments on this whole Amazon debacle, based on the questions I’ve been getting from some of you on my DMs: no, they didn’t tell me the exact reason why my books were banned. I think we can all pretty much agree that the books were getting too “saucy” for Amazon’s liking, so the company had to ax them.
Some of you have warned me that the covers and the descriptions were getting very, very R-rated for a store like Amazon, and I totally agree with that. As a matter of fact, it was a conscious and intentional decision: I was pushing the envelope to see what I could get away with, and, as far as envelopes go, and in terms of sales and raw revenue, the strategy *did* pay off big time. I was finally getting close to my goal of becoming a full-time writer (if “only” a smut writer, mind you), and my name was getting out there, which was awesome. Many of you have met me precisely during this phase, from late-2020 to early-2021, and I felt like I’d finally gotten a handle over my business and style, totally on my groove. That was also when the content of my work became extra spicy and truly, truly filthy!
(And, by the way, if you’re one of these recent readers… hi! My name is Gia, but I go online by my brand Gigi. Nice to meet you! I hope you love everything else I have to offer here! Now, back to the goodies…)
I actually wish the descriptions of my books or my covers *were* the problem. The actual books that Amazon had flagged before my temporary ban had nothing to do with any of these issues. As I went into the books trying to find some pattern in the content and the stories and figure out why they were deemed inappropriate, I came up with nothing. Even the content in some banned books felt rather tame compared to my latest (and unbanned) entries.
It seems that either someone was trolling with me or Amazon just really, reeeally didn’t want me there. Probably a combination of both: some of my most popular books got banned due to the greater exposure I was getting (resulting in a lot of butt-hurt Karens reporting me to the system), whereas others just seemed to have been caught at random by Amazon’s review algorithm.
There is nothing I can (or, at this time, want to) do about it. The books were banned due to their content, nothing else, and trying to change this would mean completely changing what I write—and, in great part, who I am. There is no work-around on that. It’s bye-bye, Amazon, and thank you for all the fishes (and readers).
Also, yeah, just one more final (this time, truly final) note before we head into the main attraction of the day: Amazon’s official statement in their email to me was that I had violated they content guidelines against “hardcore content” and “pornography.”
Now, what constitutes “hardcore content” or “pornography,” you might ask? This is the thing: there is no pointing asking! To Amazon, “hardcore” can mean anything that goes just a little over the edge of vanilla, and any description, literally any description at all about two naked adults doing the funky already technically falls into “pornography” boundaries, so… the game has been rigged from the very start.
These are catch-all terms purposefully designed to get rid of whatever books and authors Amazon doesn’t like in the moment—and, in this particular moment, the unlucky fish happened to be me.
And yes, before you remind me again: I know, I know that there are authors out threre who can publish far worse stuff than I do and get away scot free. And, yes, also yes, I’m surethere are big publishers who create way saucier covers than I could ever come up with and splash them all over the store for everyone to see, adults and kiddies alike. I’m quite aware of all of this, and it changes absolutely nothing. I’m not one of those privileged (or just straight-up lucky) authors, nor am I a big publisher of such caliber to get away with any content violation, so the ax for my neck it comes regardless.
Part 2: That book I kept talking about (hint: it’s about incels and haunted sex dolls)
Even though I’m one-hundred-percent dropping my erotica work from Amazon, I’m not leaving the store outright. In fact, I’m taking this “ban” as an opportunity to clean up my act and clear up my sales page to my “real,” big, baddass book, which I’d been working on for quite some time now—I think it’s been three years since I started it, with big intervals as I improved my porn-penning skills.
Now that the first draft of my work is complete, I’m confident in finally presenting it to you.
My first ever novel is called… *ruffle the drums! Pull out the curtains! Suspense, suspense, suspense, aaaaand…* “The Doll who Loved me!”
Yep, that’s the title of my first book: “The Doll who Loved me.” It is about a mentally-tortured incel who buys a sex doll to relieve himself of his loneliness and depression—only to find that the doll is actually haunted, and that’s she’s out for his soul… as well as his dick!
The book cover is this one, which I think is pretty neat:
It is a “working/concept” cover, yes, but I’m confident the final design is either going to remain like this or it will end up pretty similar nonetheless, at least while I’m publishing it independently.
Yes, I am publishing the book myself. No middlemen. No censorships. No headaches of any sort of this kind, at least not yet, not so soon. I will be sending out the books to whatever agent/publisher finds the concept interesting, but I won’t be anchoring myself on this strategy (traditional publishing) nor making it my priority—again, at least not for now. The book is far from 100% finished (will talk about that shortly), and it takes a really long time to get the slightest of responses from traditional media anyway, be the book of “meh” quality or the best thing since sliced garlic bread.
As cliché as it is to say it, my work’s got everything: it’s drama, horror, dark comedy, and yes, it comes with loads and loads of eroticism (call it erotica or outright porn, it doesn’t really matter to me: it’s the kind of ‘good times’ you guys have come to expect from me and my writing, just a little “tamed” for more general audiences).
It is, in short, a black-comedy horror drama with loads of porn and social commentary sprinkled throughout.
I promise it’s good. For real.
It is my first “pro” work, yes, and I think it’s quite impressive for what it is. To say that it’s got all these elements is still selling it too short, I think; the truth is that, as I was writing it, it just felt right for the book to transcend its catchy premise and rather simple storyline: it *is* about an incel being haunted by his sex doll, yes, but it is also about him growing as a person, slowly, as the horror and uniqueness of his situation teaches him about his flaws and helps him, with lots of both soft and harsh love, become a better man.
The story also comes with a pretty deep, yet somewhat opaque lore—a little bit Dark Souls, a little bit “Her” (the Spike Jonze movie with Scarlet Johansson as a sexy operating system). Not only was it super fun to write this detailed, intricate lore, but it also helped me make the world feel more lived in, to keep it intriguing and engaging even through the book’s more “mundane” sequences.
Being the author, yes, I loved (and still love) everything about it. This is not as given as it sounds, for I am incredibly self-critical and rarely ever think that what I do is ever any good. Writing porn was actually one of the few things in life that helped me become a little “less serious” and stuck-up as a writer, freeing my mind and allowing my style to flourish, as well as helping me beat that bitch of a “writer’s block.”
With this book, I feel everything’s different, and that the whole game has changed. Unlike my erotica, which just unashamedly goes all over place, my novel has a single, streamlined plot, clear structure, and carefully planned narrative arcs for all its characters. It’s the typical Three-Act-Structure, Hero-With-a-Thousand-Faces type of story we have all come to love and respect (at least in the West), so it’s definitely way less “permissive” than everything else in my pornographic ouvre so far.
Still, it’s just as engaging. Just as I loved writing my erotica (and many of you loved reading it), I loved writing (and now re-reading and editing) my first draft.
It kind of, like… really rocks! I’m super proud of it, and I hope you will be as engaged by it as I am right now.
Part 3: Release and readership (it’s FREE, baby!)
So, about the release of my work…
The date and further plot details are yet to be announced, but the first book *is* coming up soon, some two months after this announcement at the latest.
The book is going to be released just like my erotica works: in parts, serialized, and for free for everyone who wants to read it. Let me explain…
As much as I think I’m the last ice cream cone in a hot summer day on Miami beach, truth is… I’m kind of a nobody. My branding is ultra-niche, my erotica production pales in comparison to that of other content creators, and my personal finances aren’t as abundant and overflowing either, so that means that, welp, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
I think that the best way to attract first viewers and readers is to simply… put it out there. For free. For all those who are interested. Sure, there will be a bit of fanfare here and a little promotion there, yes, but for the most part it will be me just putting the work out and waiting for the reactions to come.
As first steps go, heck, I think this is by far the best I’ve got, not to mention the simplest.
Read as you go. No subscriptions. No payments. Nothing. Leave a like and a comment at the end of my posts, if you so fancy, but that’s it: no strings attached. If you enjoy it, welcome to the fandom. If you don’t, well, thank you for your time!
No promises made, no hearts broken. Just a swell time on the Webs, that’s all.
Of course, there is a lot I plan to build upon this simple foundation, especially if the work gets traction and is as well received as I think (or at least hope) it will be: the book will be one of the main selling points of my Patreon (more on that below) and, hopefully, a great vehicle to garner more attention, readers, supporters, all that good stuff.
There will also be paid versions. My novel (both in its serial releases and its finished format) will be available on Amazon—though not through Kindle Unlimited. Even at the height of my porn-publishing success, I made only 50% of my Amazon sales on KU. In most markets, the non-KU sales (i.e.: e-book purchases) accounted for about 60-70% of my earnings, so KU turned out to be not that great of a deal as Amazon had advertised.
I’ll be publishing every installment of my book on Amazon as well as every other major digital store available. You wanna read it in your Kindle, Kobo, phone, whatever? You can get it anywhere.
The free versions will go up in every single platform I currently publish on—that is Reddit, Hentai Foundry (it is still a work of erotica, after all), my website, and a few others. More venues might be considered, but I’m already pretty stuffed managing these platforms as is.
And, yeah, the most important thing to note is: because the work is so long and complex, and the current version I have is pretty much “only” it’s very first revision, the final, “finished” version might differ greatly (or not) from all the parts that I had previously published online.
I wish I could just, you know, get the whole damn thing finished and published like a “normal” book, but I’ve got to be real with both you and myself: right now, the book stands at over 700 pages. Yep. That’s over 350,000 words, or 2,000,000 characters (with spaces). To put it into more context, it’s like publishing almost 60 Reddit posts at their absolute max/allowed character count.
Best case scenario, I’ll need another whole year just for the first revision, then probably another six months to a year polishing it further and giving it the finishing touches. This is assuming, of course, that I have the privilege to work on the book full-time, no stops, without gigging or freelancing my way out of poverty. In short: an absolute best-case scenario.
Considering the amount of work, side gigs, and official government paperwork (related to other personal issues) I currently go through day in, day out, the most realistic time-frame for the full book to be finished would be three years.
Yeah. Writing is a pain sometimes. Which leads me to…
Being kicked out of Amazon has prompted me to speed up a lot of things. As fun as it was making some sweet cash selling smut on Jeffie’s turf, the whole process of publishing through an store—from prepping the content to checking metadata to trying to stick to the guidelines and all that—was very time-consuming and, to be blunt, not really fun at all.
As much of a bummer as it is to lose my income there, especially when I was so close to becoming a full-time smut writer, the freedoms this has afforded me turned out to be quite unexpected—and sweet! Instead of worrying with covers and metadata and all that jizz… I mean, jazz… I will now try and connect directly to my readers. Even the feedback I’ve been getting on my free content has been way more than I was ever expecting.
I’m really grateful for your attention and readership, my beautiful people. You guys rock!
I’ve been doing a lot of back-and-forth with Patreon, just kind of trying to figure out what to do with it. A bunch of you have subscribed to it even though I had nothing to offer, and some of you (rightfully so) were pretty bummed out once you discovered there was nothing inside it.
Well, no longer: after a lot of sweatin’ and tinkerin’, I’m happy to announce my Patreon page, locked and ready!
There are still some little things to be arranged, sure, and you never know what kind of sh#t these platforms can throw at you at any given moment (always a concern for risqué authors like yours truly), but for the time being I’m reasonably secure of what I have to offer.
My current Patron tiers and rewards are as follows:
All my Patreons will get a shout-out on the published formats of my novel, be then the finished version (months or years from now) or the serial releases. I’ll not be adding acknowledgements, though, to my free, public releases (like here on Reddit), because that’d would be both too much of a mess to read and quite a hassle for me to keep track of.
Given the “controversial” nature of my writings, though, of course some of you wouldn’t be comfortable with having your usernames associated with me, so no worries: no acknowledgement shall be given if the subscriber in question doesn’t want to. Conversely, every subscriber who wants to get a shout-out will get one, regardless of their subscription plan.
Of course, all acknowledgements are equal, but some are much more equal than others. Based on the plan you’re paying for, you’ll get a more (or less) detail shout-out, accordingly:
For $3/mo supporters, you’ll get a name drop and… well, that’s pretty much it.
For $5/mo readers, you’ll get a more dedicated message on my books. DM me on Patreon and let me know what kind of message would appeal to you the most. ❤
For $10/mo readers, you’ll get a paragraph (if there are not too many of you) or at least a couple of sentences (if you guys are too many) on my published works, all carefully-written and sweetly-crafted specifically for your tastes.
I’m not stingy in regards to subscription time, duration, or “seniority.” If y’all want to subscribe to a higher plan, say, one month before me publishing a new work or chapter, I see no trouble in that. Of course, longer-term subscribers will get way more attention on my acknowledgements than “last-minute” arrivers, but that is only natural, isn’t it?
Though I pay attention to all my readers and followers, paying or otherwise, those who subscribe to my Patreon will obviously get priority over non-subscribers when it comes to contacting me, giving feedback, and all. It’s not just a matter of rewarding you for your monies, but one of basic time-management; even as is, with my Patreon only now going official, I’m already struggling to keep up with all the messages and requests for commissions, so this subscription tier system will come in handy to help me sort out my priorities.
Subscribers of the $5-plan or higher will also be able to vote on my opinion polls and participate on Patreon-exclusive “chat rooms”—I’m still working on this, yes; if my Patreon gets successful, I’m even thinking on making AMA-style forums for my highest-ranking fans to discuss feedback on my work and plans for future releases.
Then there’s the matter of my entire body of erotica and porn writings, which deserves a chapter of its own.
Part 5: The good stuff—of horny futas, giant dongs, and everything in between
From the basics: subscribers of the $10 plan will get premium access to all the filthy porn I’ve ever written, including those who were deep in my backlog and never ended up published on Amazon in the first place.
For the $5-plan subscribers, you’ll get a handful of my erotica upfront (check out the list below), plus early access to the stories in the series I’m currently publishing for free online (read stories weeks, maybe months ahead everyone else).
Again, just to emphasize, the $10-plan subscribers will get everything from the get-go. Everything. I mean: every-fucking-thing. All my books, past and future; all my erotica, early and late. All the porn books I’ve ever written, including those that I never even came close to publishing; even series that barely got started at all and were dropped before I finished the first few of their stories, they’re all yours to read and enjoy.
There is a ton of content to consume. Here’s a quick preview of everything you’ll be getting, including a word count (thousands of words) per series:
Even when excluding all the stories I’d published on Amazon, there’s still, like, two-to-three years-worth of porn content—assuming I release only a handful every month! That is way more porn than anyone would be able to consume in a lifetime… or, well, maybe I’m just too innocent, I dunno.
Part 6: The future of Gigi Potemkin (“what about NEW porn? I’m still waiting for more sweet-ass futa content, you know!”)
Here’s one thing that, at least for now, is still a little fuzzy on my schedule: all the porn I have listed above is already written and wrapped up. When it comes to writing new smut, though, I’m pretty much on the fence so far.
My future, I believe, lies in novels; “actual, serious” writing, you know. Not only is it more refreshing and rewarding to write these bigger stories, I also think it’s the only path to “profitability” now that my erotica career is over.
I started writing smut both for fun and for improving my English skills. I believe I succeeded on both fronts. As my style improved and my reputation grew, I went on to make some pretty decent cash on Amazon, and this added a whole other layer of incentives for me to continue writing filthier and hotter erotica.
To be very honest (if I weren’t being honest enough, that is), I don’t believe my smut career would have lasted this long without this financial boost. Now that the boost is gone, I pretty much see no reason to continue writing porn. The current (and extensive) backlog of porn will serve as a very convenient and consistent vehicle to advertise my new book and my keep growing my brand. That aside, I just don’t feel that motivated to keep writing new stuff, porn-wise speaking.
This circles back to my Patreon: if it is successful, will it be because of my porn, my novel, or both in equal measures? I don’t know; hence, I’ll keep my options open.
If my Patreon (and other venues) is successful (i.e.: I’m able to support myself just from it), then I’ll listen to my fans and readers: if you want more porn to come out, then more porn will come out. If you want more futa stuff, then I’ll give you more futa stuff—that’s quite important to stress, because I really got a boost in sales after I published my African Futa erotica series, heh, heh.
Buuut… if, let’s say, hypothetically, for the sake of argument, that my novel (The Doll…) is generating all the traffic and most of my income, then I’ll definitely be focusing on the novel and keep porn on the closet.
This is going to be a very, very long publishing schedule, after all: unlike my porn, which is easy to write, review, and read, the novel requires much more muscle behind it; I’ve been proofreading, correcting, and revising its first couple dozens of pages (a hundred or something) for about two months now, and I feel I’m still barely scratching the surface of it all. There’s probably going to be many more revisions and proofreads to come, and that’s not even including the comments, feedback, and reception I get from you, my beautiful.
Give or take, it’s gonna be a year-long, maybe 2-year commitment from beginning to end—from the first chapter I release for free to the full, complete, finished novel on Amazon. For better or worse, I was caught really off-guard by a lot of the stuff I wrote in my first chapters, all the way back in 2018: some of it is really, almost shockingly good, and some of it just just… like… yikes. You barely have an idea of the crazy stuff I’ve been having to fix, polish, refine, and conform these past few months.
Soon, though, you will. Or so I hope.
So, my point is: I’m not sure if I’ll ever write new porn again, or if I’ll be taking requests for specific genres or storylines, but I’m still open to the idea. Writing porn has been (and still is) a very fun activity, so I will definitely not mind writing new, sexy stuff… if I am adequately rewarded for it. >:)
If I ever cross a certain threshold of monthly income that allows me to write full-time and still save some money for the future (in case, you know, disaster strikes), then I am all yours again! I won’t mind keeping you, *cahem*, entertained with brand-new, filthy-hot erotica if that’s what you’re begging for on my Patreon and social media.
With my Patreon polls, you’ll be able to vote on whatever flavor or erotica you want to see next, and our community discussions and chat groups will further add to this relationship.
However, this is something of long-shot for the time being. I’ve barely given the first baby step yet, so only the weeks (or months) ahead will tell how my career and my literature will play out. My gut-feeling tells me everything will coalesce into my novel-writing career, but… let’s see. I can only lay down the bricks and wait for people (hopefully, many of you guys) to travel down the road with me.
My hopes are high, but life, ya know, it has a way of keeping us down, sometimes. As long as you’re down with me in this path, I’ll consider myself a happy and accomplished writer—be it of erotica or whatnot.
Part 7: So, in short… (TLDR of everything!)
Boy! Do I talk, right? I’m sorry if it took me so long to get to the point. Without a lot of prepping and editing, I tend to just go on and on and on…
My novel will much more concise and to-the-point than this update, though. That’s a promise!
Now, if you skipped to this section to avoid all the talking, or if you still have questions about what you’ve just read, here’s a quick recap of everything I said:
I have been banned from Amazon thanks to the contents of my books. There’s no chance I’m coming back. It’s over.
I was getting close to making a full-time income on Amazon, so the banning came as a bit of a bummer and terrible timing.
Because my banning came so much quicker than I’d expected, I’m moving plans forward and finally releasing the project I had been working on for almost three years now: my very first novel, called…
“The Doll who Loved Me.” That’s the name of my first novel, yes.
It’s about an incel being haunted by his sex doll.
It’s over 700 pages-long in its current form and…
It’s going to be published in serial form here and on my other social media, both for free and as part of a subscription plan for…
My Patreon. Yep, that’s the money shot right here: my Patreon is finally finished and you can subscribe to it right now.
Overall, it’s going to support both my erotica and my novel writing;
For my novel (“The Doll who Loved Me”), my Patreon would (ideally) provide stable income for the serial releases, as well as the editing, proofreading, and overall polish and refinement of the work;
For my erotica:
I stopped writing new porn, focusing instead 100% on my novel (The Doll who Loved Me).
I have, however, a supermassive backlog of works, with over 1.5 million words of filthy content—both from books previously released on Amazon and works that never, ever saw the light of day.
Subscribers of my $5/mo plan will get loads of this erotica, as well as early access to all my ongoing (public) releases;
Subscribers of my $10/mo plan will get everything all at once. Everything. No bullshit and no questions asked.
If my Patreon is very successful, and if that’s the general desire of my Patrons, sure, I will go back to writing erotica. If y’all paying, I’m slaying. I’ll dance to the tune of your music, my luvs, like a monkey who’s been dancing her whole life. 😉 ❤
Overall goodies and rewards:
Y’all get credits on my novel, both the finished work and the serial releases, whatever the plan you choose;
You get access to polls, discussion boards, and priority contact with the author (that is, moi);
If anything happens to my any of the social media or online stores (banning, shut-down, stuff like this), you get a cloud backup of my novel and, for the $5 and $10 subscribers, my erotica too.
Thank you so fucking much! Words cannot describe my gratitude for your attention, support, and feedback on all these previous months. Thank you very much, and enjoy everything that I still have to offer!
And that… is… it! If you read it all from the very the beginning until here, congratulations! This is the end of my update! I hope to see you either on my Patreon or my other online venues.
For those who would like to support me with a one-time, no-questions-asked purchase, buy something from me on Amazon.
My novel will be released serially on all major online stores too, so if you want to support me on an occasional, non-recurring basis, you can always hop onto these stores and buy a copy there.
For the time being, this is all I have to say. If you have any questions about anything, you know where to find me:
It must have been a confusing sight, you know, for my alien masters to arrive at the planet and see it all so… white!… from the vastness of space. Their floating black box, flying in space at hypersonic speeds, suddenly came to a halt once the planet’s surface became visible. They surely thought it wasn’t the planet, but actually a dim, white star of some sort, for all its surface was covered in a glistening white substance, so smooth and perfect that it allowed for no meaningful elevation whatsoever in that vast plain.
The black box hovered around the planet for a while, unsure of what to do next. The five (or so) moons were orbiting the body just as they would expect, and the coordinates in the box’s complicated, indecipherable panels were all correct. It was just the planet that was… just!… so!… different!
Ha, ha! I wonder what those creatures said to one another other in their control room, wherever it was. All I could know—and see and hear and feel—was their box suddenly piercing the planet’s atmosphere and descending to its surface at near-light speeds, creating shockwaves so powerful that they tore holes in the satellites hyper-condensed atmosphere.
Even those clouds and gushes and masses of steam shouldn’t be possible. The black box floated around for a while until its systems detected the surface, almost imperceptible under such intense, scorching haze. The planet was once a green, lush paradise, yet now its surface burned at consistent temperatures of eighty degrees Celsius or more. Only the surface of Venus could have been more hellish, and even then, there would be more color to the burning, hot planet than there was to that one.
The box spent many hours trying to find its way into the mist. Once they found their target—once they found us—they were met with an outrageous sight that defied even their wildest, most optimistic expectations.
My stud laid morbidly on the sea of white, his legs and arms spread out like a starfish, his entire body shivering, his long tongue partially out of his mouth—some twenty, thirty inches of it. His muscles roared and trembled, making his massive, gigantic body jump on the surface from time to time, but, that aside, he was pretty much dead, brought back from unconsciousness only by my voracious blowing of his whale-sized penis.
My hands brought out moans and grunts from his breast, with the waves of pleasure spreading on his muscles like bursts of orgasmic delight. That I brought so much pleasure and such intense joy to a guy almost twice my size (and ten times my muscle mass), that was… oh! How the fuck can I possibly describe it?! Instead, I let my hands to all the describing, sliding up and down that gigantic cock, coaxing the semen out of his balls and making it explode in heavy messes all over my muscular frame.
The black box approached us, its smooth hovering making no noise at all. “W-what…?!”
For once, I heard my “masters” studder. None of them, even the ones who truly believed in my potential, ever imagined a scene like that to be possible. After a brief cleaning of their throats, they repeated: “what happened here?”
I was too distracted by that delicious, elephant-sized dick to actually pay heed to them, though. The beast was almost entirely soft, yet still it broke through the 25-inch barrier easily. Squeezing and pumping that prick with my full arms, I flexed my biceps and my torso to lift it up, inspecting every inch of that gorgeous breeder like my whole life’s job had been just that: evaluating and ranking the male genitalia, and tasting all the best testicular juice nature had to offer.
The size, girth, and power of that penis shocked me all the time. It’d been four months since I’d begun screwing that impossible male, yet the existence of such gorgeous genital always drilled a few more squirts out of my cunt. Like a queen, I was laying on my man’s torso with my back on his fantastic abs, my head resting on his gigantic chest, my legs wrapped around the base of his unbelievable shaft, mounting it like a unicorn, pushing the prick up and feeling it ooze fresh semen on my face. I opened up my mouth and drank that nectar loudly.
My pussy unloaded a few more pints of squirt when the voices in the black box repeated the question: “earthling, tell us: what happened here?” My squirting was getting much stronger than I could control, so much so that much of it sprinkled loudly on the box’s rectangular surface.
Gargling and gorging on that virile nectar, I made my neck throb to twice its size while gulping its humongous volume, making my bulging belly bloat even harder with the pounds of fresh semen I kept adding to my stomach. It’s been a few weeks since my man and I finally stopped fucking, yet his jizz still kept flowing out of my cunt, my ass, my nostrils, even my ears; every inch of my body colonized and violated by his burning, virile seed.
I couldn’t care less for my “masters” at that moment, to be very honest. “Oh, mm!” I spit a huge load of semen into the air, with pints of it coming through my nose. “Isn’t he a wonderful horse?” Hugging that prick with both of my arms, I flexed my muscles and crushed the penis against my own abs and tits, pulling my biceps to make a huge load of jizz flow into the urethra. The balls of my monster stud rumbled with virile power. I had my feet firmly placed in them, and through my soles I could feel the truckloads of spunk slowly refilling their tanks.
My man could cum like a breeding machine, and nothing made me feel hotter than that! Placing the tip of his jaw-breaking crown on my mouth, I received the gigantic load at full force—a fist-sized, python-like thread of sperm so heavy and powerful it immediately exploded out of my nostrils, making my very eyes bulge and, soon enough, cry tears of sperm. My throat immediately doubled its width to allow for the passage of that endless corridor of virile spunk, burning in its contact, yet begging for more.
*Gloorsh!! Glooorsh!! Glooorsh!!* You could hear the powerful, heavy semen being unloaded in my stomach, making it bloat and my belly bulge while the previous loads already there were pushed down into my guts, and then further down until my anus, from which they burst into his throbbing cock. Once fucked by that human horse at full force, my body could easily become as big as a truck to accommodate the full hard length of his breeder, and even more so to hold all the hundreds of gallons of jizz that he could come in every second. However, at that resting state, after we’d done things that would make Satan’s dick blush and shrivel in fear, I preferred to now deform myself so hideously, and instead to let the cum bloat me up like I had, uh, a baby rhino in my belly, and then flush out the rest through my guts, creating a constant, endless stream that burst out and free through my anus.
I had to control myself so as not to bite and eat that monster cock up. The semen kept flowing inside me, a powerful river of masculine breeding juice keeping my fecundated womb always warm, even scorching, as well as massaging my crowded placenta with loving care, tucking all my babies to sleep.
Every time I was satisfied with the newest load of cum, I lifted the penis up and turned it slightly to the side, letting it ooze spunk on my man’s breast or on the ocean around us. Even without my vigorous foot-massage of his massive testicles, those cum bombs just kept churning out wad after heavy wad of virile junk, the flow of it so perceptible on the monster cock. Despite its immense girth, the cock bulged and boomed with the flow of cum, sometimes shooting fatter loads at considerable distances—enough sperm to rival the full, collective orgasms of ten stallions, yet barely registering as “proper orgasm” for my man. To him, those huge, loud, heavy bursts of cum were akin to nocturnal emissions; that was the cum he unconsciously and carelessly ejaculated when he wasn’t paying attention, not nearly the volcanic power of his orgasm when he was “warming up,” let alone that planet-destroying gushes that his monster balls could muster when he was really aroused.
Sliding my fingers along the titanic veins and arteries that covered that cock, I talked about it like a faithful praising her god: “isn’t this the most massive, gorgeous cock ever known to nature?” My fingers squeezed his balls harder, sinking their skin on the pools of spunk that swirled inside them. “By the gods, he’s soooo virile! Not even in my filthiest dreams could I conceive a man even a thousandth as virile and powerful and cum-full as this wonderful stud. The amount of jizz he can pump in a single second is enough to fill a freaking bathtub. Look!” The penis throbbed and exploded with a particularly savage load of cum: countless gallons flying in an arc and exploding heavily on the ocean dozens of feet away from us. Whenever the prick was not shooting those monstrous loads, however, was when it became even more arousing, drenching my pussy with the countless wads of oil that it squirted in ecstasy: the sound of the jizz coursing inside it was, like, hot marmalade bubbling on a tank. If there was a sound that perfectly encapsulated raw, beastly masculine power, that was it. “Fuck!” I bathed myself on my squirts, feeling my muscles seizing up with the tremendous pleasure. “He’s such a man! Such a stud! I want to worship every inch of this perfect, virile specimen.” I stuck my tongue out. Strange noises came from the floating black box as inch after inch of my tongue revealed itself from my mouth; maybe the aliens hadn’t accounted for my powers of growth, for they reacted with utter surprise, even shock upon seeing the full thirty inches of my python tongue. I wrapped that tongue around the monster penis, coaxing more virile oil out of it along with my hands. Despite having my tongue fully out, my speech remained perfect: “how dare you say that this is the weakest man in your harem? How dare you!” My pumping became more violent, inadvertently coaxing gallons of burning jizz straight on my man’s anesthetized face. “He’s my stud! I feel offended that you call such virile male specimen ‘weak’ in any capacity. Oh, my fucking god!” My feet were making loud, crumbling noises while masturbating his two gigantic testicles. “Do you fucking see the amount of semen this horse is cumming? My god, I can barely see his balls, but I already feel them inflating with… so!… much!… spunk!!” I came. My squirting became deafening for a while. My pussy literally made rain girl cum all around us. My fluids were thick enough so that they hurt upon impact with my skin. My man’s jizz was insanely thick, like semi-hardened cement, but my own pussy juice wasn’t too far off. “Maybe you are jealous.” I cast a nasty look at that floating box. “Maybe your species consists of a bunch of pin-dicked dwarves. Are you jealous of my stallion?” I massaged his balls and pumped his dick even harder, feeling my feet sinking along the sack’s skin on the tanks of semen. Jizz was bursting loudly from the prick. Oh, god! It exploded in loud messes, not ejaculating, but just oozing and bursting above my body, unloading buckets at every blink of the eye. My voice was muffled by every massive wad of jizz that hit my body. Soon, both me and my awesome stud were oozing spunk. “You’re so jealous of this huge cum fountain. Look!” I pointed the dick up and pumped it with my forearms and my elbows. Indecent lassoes of jizz exploded into the air, rising a few feet above us, then massacring our muscles with their weight. “Literally a cum fountain.” Crushing my bloated pussy against the base of that shaft, I turned the soft cock to my mouth and… ate it! My jaw cracked as my lips stretched to over nine inches wide—the width of my lover’s soft cock. Again, strange, uneasy sounds came from the black box, with the aliens so surprised by my sexual abilities.
The truckload of semen invaded my body so hard that, in a fraction of a second, I felt it immediately sloshing inside my stomach, with the stream on my throat and the bloating of my cheeks felt only a second later. The semen snorted out of my nostrils and fell from my eyes. I actually loved filling my skull with so much spunk that even my tear ducts were drenched in semen. Soon, I was openly and unashamedly crying cum! Huge tears of sperm flowed in fat, steamy streams from my eyes; more obscene loads of semen burst from my nostrils, and my cheeks were as huge as a squirrel’s after eating too many accords.
The black box came closer, trying to get a better view of my carnal debauchery. “You have no idea of our species, human.” Strange chats followed in a language I could not understand, like the people behind the microphone were admonishing each other, not talking to me. “We weren’t lying. We never said he was weak.” They quickly changed their tone. “He is, however, the weakest.”
Those words actually had an effect on me, and I gargled noisily on the cock, losing control on the stream of jizz inside me. My pussy squirted fat wads of nectar while my ass shat a volume so huge of sperm that I actually felt my hips cracking a little. «The weakest??» In my mind, those words made so little sense. «How the fuck can this man… this fucking male?!… be the weakest?» My feet were lost in the endlessly virile, dense, and hot masses of sperm inside his testicles. The sensations were actually so out of this world! His actual testicles were “only” a big bigger than ostrich eggs, and heavier as if they were made with pure titanium—in fact, the heaviest material in the universe, even harder than his flexed mega-muscles—, but his actual sack was now surpassing the size of two basketballs for each testicle. How did he accomplish that? Well, for starters, there’s the obvious, humongous loads of semen he produced. We had flooded an entire planet—an! Entire! Freaking! Planet!—with his jizz, and now we were actually floating on the ocean of his still-hot spunk.
Even though he had come a lot of that spunk many months ago, it still burned as if it had been recently ejaculated. His semen was so powerful and so virile that, even after exposed to the open air for decades, it could still fecundate any woman many times over with a single droplet. Coming to think of it, I don’t actually think there was any “expiration date” for his semen; my man was so ludicrously fertile that I could throw a bunch of his spunk in a literal trash bin, let it rot for an entire century, and have my descendants grab the seed, clean it, and then fecundate any woman with it as if nothing had happened. In fact, his seed would probably eat away all the bacteria and all the “junk” in the trash, keeping itself perfectly clean no matter how nasty or deplorable was the environment it found itself in.
To say that his semen was alive was not an understatement. Every time I ate and swallowed those endless gallons he produced, like now, I could feel every individual sexual cell swirling in the stream. His sperm was like tadpoles! If you looked closely at his mass of semen, you could actually see the little bastards swimming and swirling about, their muscular tales propelling their engorged heads with more power than a freaking boat!
Since I had been impregnated by that oversized stud, his semen never actually left my ovaries. All the time I felt it pressing and crushing my eggs, attempting to fecundate my womb itself, and even while pregnant my ovaries obeyed their will and unloaded hundreds upon hundreds of giant eggs in my system—which sadly had to be squirted out along with my orgasms so as not to literally tear my belly up with endless quantities of babies. In a way, I felt really bad for that god stud: a stallion such as his shouldn’t be “wasting” his time with a single woman. Oh, no: every fucking second, his seed could have fecundated literal millions of fertile women. I could sense the anguish, even the desperation in his sperm cells all around us—literal oceans upon oceans covering the entire surface of a whole motherfucking planet, without a single fresh womb in sight! The fact that the semen was so powerful and undying only made the fate of its sperm even worse: unlike normal human semen, which dries out almost instantaneously, his would remain alive on that cum planet for centuries upon centuries upon centuries, his sperm uselessly waddling around without ever fulfilling its breeding destiny.
These thoughts made my tits harden and the milk inside then burn and… burst! Huge geysers rose in the air as I lactated insane amounts of motherly nectar into the skies. My pussy, not one to be surpassed, followed it with insane gushes of womb nectar, and thousands of fecundated eggs were spat out from my ovaries, pushing away even the ravenous wads of semen that were constantly entering and flowing up my cunt.
To be fecundated and bred by that superhuman stud meant to have literal “tentacles” of semen constantly flowing and sliding around your body, with a massive tentacle forever penetrating your cunt, spreading up out legs and stretching out your pussy as wide as it could to allow for even more cum to roam inside. It’s not a joke, nor an exaggeration when I say that the semen was alive: it literally made its way inside me like a snake. The place where we laid was not even a plain, but a mountain—and the tallest geographic element in the planet; that was actually all the semen in the planet gathering around us, or rather, around me, smelling my pussy and wanting so desperately to fecundate me.
And that was “only” jizz. I didn’t even talk about the insane network of ducts and arteries and veins that powered his balls. Whenever I didn’t fill the thick mass of his burning semen (and it burned at no less than a hundred degrees Celsius inside his sack), I felt the endless, serpentine swirl of throbbing veins and ducts that surrounded his titanium testicles. Those were the engines of his frenetic sperm production, as well as the connectors between his over-sized gonads and his body-long penis.
The man was a god. How much a god, you may ask? Well, the smallest, thinnest ducts around his testicles were still as thick as thumbs. Inside them so much jizz flowed that you could literally hear the grave, coarse sounds of its fluid motion. His semen burned like lava, and those monster balls had to account too for that inhumane temperature: in his largest veins, some of them as wide as forearms (and very bulky ones at that) flowed not only blood, but actually cold water and other mysterious fluids, as if his balls were so beastly hot that they needed a cooling system just for them.
“Ooh-eeeh!!” I came like the bloody mess that I was! The squirts left my pussy so hot and hard that I was conscious of every single inch of my battered genital. Steam rose from my cunt, hitting that monster penis just as hard as my gallons of squirt. I was an uber-muscular, virile and powerful Amazon, with muscles so big and strong I could literally wrestle Earth’s strongest man into a quick, humiliating submission, yet on the body of that godly stud, oh!, I couldn’t help but to whimper, moan, grunt, and cum in a very passive, feminine way. “Fuck me, stud!!” My feet sank deeper into those monstrous balls, masturbating gallons of cum into them. “Fuck me with this god rod of yours!!”
I was literally out of my mind, and the aliens watched me silently—curious too, no doubt, about the aphrodisiac effects of that superhuman stud on my body. I lifted my waist and, painfully enough, allowed my feet to lift off from the balls, preferring instead to wrap my thick, ultra-muscular legs into the raging, pumping rod of that stallion. I clang on it like a spider monkey, hugging it with all my might like a bear, crushing the cock against my mighty 10-pack abs and between my mountainous, rock-hard tits, which lactated milk into the skies.
My pussy was raging hydrant of cum, and I wanted it to literally burn in the virile surface of that god penis: I pushed my crotch fully against the base of the prick, then dragged my cunt violently up-and-down on it, striking multiple orgasms after countless, multiple orgasms to every fucking inch of my body, seizing myself up with such tremendous discharges of electricity that many times my body froze completely still, like a fucking statue dominated by orgasms—well, almost completely still, you see, for the raging climax still made me tremble and shiver like a freaking human vibrator. “O-o-o-oh, m-my g-g-g-g-o-d!!!” The words barely left my mouth, completely broken by my outrageous bodily earthquake.
Gallons of spunk soon followed. The bursts were considerably more violent and messier, with spunk flying in all directions, the prick still essentially soft. My man grunted and roared in his sleep, but he was still just that: asleep! After four months of intense fucking, it still amazed me that I, a fucking Earthling, had managed to fuck that human bull into near unconsciousness. “I am… so!… powerful!!” I proclaimed while grinding orgasms after nerve-wracking orgasms from my pussy. Steam and literal fire burst from my gaping cunt. The friction between his cock, my labia, the steam, the gushes of my womb nectar created a sort of flammable air where spontaneous combustions were all too common.
Those orgasms were no joke: in the body of any other woman, any regular human, they would have literally left them tetraplegic for life.
“Have you all done this?” The black box asked, yet I could only rage at it:
“A little busy right now!!” Orgasm after orgasm stole my brains and shattered my mind. Everything in that fucking god was arousing to me: the way his balls throbbed so hard that I could literally hear their rumble, even amidst the wildest electrical storm in my mind; the way his semen flowed continuously deep inside that cock, an ejaculation so strong that it didn’t stop even when the male was unconscious; the way his muscles roared and trembled under me, his body hardening and expanding on its own, like the muscles and his cock were similar in their autonomy and life-like nature; the sheer size of that human bull, that breeding stallion, who was literally bigger than any bull or stallion I’d seen on Earth: fifteen-feet tall! Fifteen thousand pounds of pure muscle! His cock and balls alone weighed a total of three thousand pounds, with a ton right there, over my body, nutting endless cum while I pumped it with my entire being.
His cock was five fucking feet long! I knew it, for that was approximately the size of it covering my ankles all the way up to my face. I had grown into a mighty muscular Amazon of approximately 7ft6in, yet still that cock was almost nearly the size of my entire body! To worship it fully, I couldn’t just wrap my hands around it or my mouth on its fucking tip; I had to literally wrestle that beast with my full body, then use that said body to pump it into orgasmic oblivion.
The semen kept flowing while my muscles all sang and roared, my entire body expelling steam. It always became something of a competition, you see, between me and that wonderful stallion: who was the strongest, who was the horniest? Despite having drained his energy away, enough to literally knock him down, I had failed to drain his balls. «My god!» Deep within me, that great, primordial fear I’d felt after first meeting him had never truly disappeared: «how strong is his truly??» His balls. His penis. His semen. How fucking endless was his virility? How truly inexhaustible was his stamina?
I had defeated the man, the stallion, but not his balls. Was there really an end to his godly sexuality, his planet-drenching pools of cum, or were they really just that: interminable, supreme, a force of nature superior to the Universe itself?! As the cum kept flowing inside that monster dong (and flowing and flowing and flowing and flowing…), I feared I already had my answer, yet still I couldn’t accept it.
I had, oh, I had to defeat that man fully! “Cum oceans, you fucking donkey!!” With a powerful, almost cruel blow, I pulled my legs beg and crushed my feet against his balls, making them sink on the ocean of cum below. It was like crushing those balls against titanium, really (his cum was soooo thick!), and the monster roared and jumped as his balls responded with truly gargantuan loads of burning seed.
I placed my mouth on the cock, kissing only the very tip. His urethra was a wide as a fist, and once fully aroused, cumming like a horse, it literally allowed for a first to be thrust inside it. The only fist that passed through it, though, was the forearm-sized train of sperm, now gushing out at near-ejaculatory strength. My nose and lips and eyes exploded with the invasion of semen, with my belly quickly bloating to two feet high (in relation to my hips) as the semen filled my stomach, then flowed aggressively into my guts.
Damn, my intestines were inflated like party balloons! Everything inside me was big and getting bigger, with literal truckloads of male milk being injected on me every second. My ass was stretched to the size of two whole fists, and through it wad after wad after gut-wrenching, stomach-bloating semen jizzed through, exploding in messes so extreme and hot of male magma that the surroundings became completely covered in dense, white fog, blocking the view of even the aliens near us.
The black box didn’t approach us. Instead, the aliens on the other size, wherever they were, discussed between themselves what they were seeing while I voraciously consumed all that semen inside the fog. Two whole hours had to pass until I was satisfied with that little banquet, yet even after all that time, with my muscles throbbing a little bit sore, asking for a time-out, the man still regurgitated gallons through his prick. “Are you fucking…?!” I puked. Semen came out through my mouth and nostrils. “Kidding me??”
The penis was never even semi-hard. Fuck! I could still hear the balls roaring like engines as endless amounts of jizz kept courting through that cock. Letting go of the titanic prick, I saw it loudly fall on the size of my man, twenty-eight inches of soft breeder regurgitating endless amounts of gunk, huge hills of spunk being formed around its tip. My man snored, making his breast rise and fall with me on it, as his cock just kept coming and coming and, oh, coming so fucking hard!
The beast was soft. Soft, I say! That orgasm was not exactly “cumming,” not a proper ejaculation. His semen was just… leaking! Gush after gush of steamy jizz just pouring out of his cock, like some kind of hyper-virile damn had been ruptured inside his balls! Looking around us, heaving and panting after all that effort, I sat on my man’s iron abs and leaned forward to puke gallons of semen. My body shrank a little, with the excess jizz finally moving out. “Fucking hell!” Every time I tried to speak… *gloorsh!!* More jizz came out exploding through my orifices. “Fuck!!” I laid my hands on my ripped, muscular belly, making sure that my babies were still all right. “I think your stud is broken.”
I grabbed a fistful of semen from the stud’s muscles and spread it over my belly. The legion of babies kicked and swam inside my placenta, reacting to the virile broth of their father. I chuckled. They could literally feel the presence of my man’s semen—not that was any surprising, anyway; my womb itself, surrounding their placenta, was stock full of cum; the wads still kept bursting out from my vagina, a leak almost as endless as that from my monster’s cock. “Not in a bad way, I mean. I love how he’s able to produce enough cum to cover an entire planet.” My feet once again massaged his balls, and every little movement coaxed gallons from his virile ducts. I bit my lips and squirted gallons of my own. “Damn, that’s so much virility for a single pair of testicles! I can never get enough of his breeding juice.”
“Mm. We can see that.”
I cast another naughty look to that black box. “Is he broken, then? I think I broke him, somehow. Something in me tells me, uh, he wasn’t supposed to be this virile.” My feet crushed his balls, which roared back with oceans of semen. His dick enlarged and, upon the explosion of the mountains of burning cum, twirled on his abs like a snake. “Fuck, look at that. You can actually hear the spunk like waves on a beach!”
The box approached my giant’s titanic ball sack, inspecting it closely. “He’s indeed much bigger than we thought he could get. His balls are producing at least twice as much heat as they did on their previous records.” The box got even closer, almost touching the testicles whenever they throbbed to their maximum size. “It is impressive. He was never supposed to produce so much seminal fluids.”
“So… is he broke?” I bit my lips. “Can I keep him, then?”
The box flew over me, hovering menacingly over my bloated belly. “What have you two done?”
I sat again on my titan, feeling his hyper-shredded abs massaging my gigantic buttocks. “Why do you care? I don’t like your disrespectful tone, you see.”
The box hovered closer to my belly. “You’re pregnant.”
I couldn’t hide my pride. “Heck yeah!” I coated my muscular belly with yet more fistfuls of semen, adding incredible warmth to my powerful babies. “I feel like a have a bunch of little mules inside me. God, I can barely imagine how big and strong these babies are going to be!” I looked at the box. “How many?”
I almost pushed my belly against it. “How many babies do I have, d’uh! I know you can see them, with these alien technologies of yours.” I slapped the tree-trunk thigh of my man, who grunted lazily in response. “How many babies did this awesome stallion fill me with?”
Just as I expected, a green light appeared from the top of the box and was cast over my belly. After it scanned my enormous waist up-and-down a few times, I heard a brief discussion, then the alien’s nonchalant response: “sixteen.”
I… I couldn’t… what? “What??”
The aliens repeated: “sixteen babies.”
My jaw… honestly, it didn’t fall immediately. My mind was, like… burning. It is right now, really, as I recount this tale. I mean…
The aliens were not impatient. Even they knew that the number was too great to be believed. “We know you cannot understand it, and we too are very surprised by it, but that’s the exact number of kids this specimen has bred you with: eight males, eight females.” Then… “Are you okay?”
Heck, no, I wasn’t. I was floored, I was stirred, I was fucking flabbergasted, that what I was! “You mean to say…” I laid my hands on my belly again. The aggressive, unending movements inside of me now made so much more sense. “I’ve got sixteen kids in me? At the same time??”
“Yes.” The bluntness of their response just added to the shock. Sixteen kids! Sixteen freaking…! “We will assist you in the birth. We never had a single female die on our hands, and you won’t be the first.”
“We know what you’re thinking, and we…”
“Oh, no.” I quite surly replied. “You really don’t know what I can possibly be feeling right now, ye bunch of freaks.”
The box stood still and silent for a moment. “We do. One day, we hope, you will know how much we do understand it.” It hovered closer to me, casting a few more lights of different colors on my bulging, twitching belly. “The pregnancy will be safe, though we cannot assure you will be able to continue on the program once the babies are out. Even for our technology…”
“Oh, I will!” I snapped out of my shock only to defy them: “I will continue!”
“Please, let’s us finish, earthling. You’re not the first, not will you be the last of our females who experience this over-breeding phenomenon. Sadly, most of the women who are bred with so many offspring can rarely give birth again. Their wombs are wracked and misshapen to the point of uselessness, and even…”
“Don’t bother me with this nonsense any longer!” I fondled my belly. “Don’t insult me by suggesting I am like one of the weak bitches you breed.” I lifted my right arm. I flexed it. *Boom!!* Muscles atop muscles atop sheets of yet more muscle hardened like titanium, a biceps, triceps, and shoulder growing so massive it felt like I had a tree trunk of pure muscular power for an arm. The veins spread all over my skin, throbbing with so much power. “How many women are more powerful than that?” I flexed my other arm, making by chest boom and my abs ripple. “Are you seriously telling me you’ve got stronger bitches in your harem?”
The sounds from the box got me, I confess: it was the first time I heard such a reaction from them. «Chuckles??» I lowered my arms, letting my impressive guns rest for a bit. “What are you laughing at? What kind of women do you have there?”
After a few more disparaging noises, came the answer: “it’s still too early for us to share with you our secrets. Things must be experienced each according to their own time.”
“Mmph!” I crossed my arms. Heh, heh! It was even funny, honestly: when crossing them, my tits roared and milk splashed on the box’s surface. I felt my muscles sore and cramping. I was so fucking built, so utterly massive, that even crossing my arms was a challenging feat.
“We can say, however…” There was a brief, insecure pause before they accepted to humor my ego: “you’re the strongest beginner we ever had.” Another pause. It was like they were really trying to not puff me up so much. “By a wide margin.”
My muscles roared on their own. Fuck! It was so magical to have that body. At times, it didn’t even feel like my own body, like an armor made of muscles that I was just wearing temporarily. I flexed my arms and felt my immense biceps squeezing my even bigger, harder breasts. Fuck, that was just so much meat everywhere! My tits, which already on a “natural” state produced milk in great volumes, now were leaking constantly during my pregnancy, an at every tiny movement they lactated gallons, pushing the limits of my rock-hard nipple. “Mm, oh!” I grunted. A great fire consumed me on my cunt. My man’s semen and our babies had a play in it, yes, but most of it was my pure power. “Shit, just you look at me!” All of my muscles flexed on their own, with my legs straightening up and my body freezing like a plank as my sheets of muscles acquired intense definition. “Fuck, I’m a fucking machine!”
I stood up on the man. His back sank a little on the spunk. The massiveness of his frame, however, and the insane thickness of his spunk prevented us from sinking completely, even with our tons and tons of muscles. Once up on my man’s abs, I could flex more freely, feeling like a titaness who could crush a planet under her feet.
My thighs roared with the insane definition and girth of their muscles. My legs had always been mare-like, able to scare even horses into fleeing, yet now they were… fuck! So ridiculously huge! My pussy was bloated like a peach, and scorching red compared to the Yankee-like whiteness of my skin, and crushed between the muscles of my massive legs. I legit couldn’t stand up with my legs straight; they had to always be a little spread out, you see, for their muscles were so thick! Even in a thirty degree angle between them, the pussy was still crushed, semen and nectar still squirting out of it, the babies in my belly—all sixteen of them!—dancing and swimming in absolute ecstasy, praising, and worshiping the glory of their super mother.
I flexed my arms, my shoulder, and my chest, and my monster tits sprang up to shoot gallons of milk into my surroundings. Upon contact with the surface of semen, powerful gushes of steam rose into the air, pillars of volcanic eruptions, all thank to only the intense heat of our combined fluids.
The black box moved aside, keeping its rectangular face on my body at all times. “How do you like your new physique, human?”
My breath was animalistic. It was beastly, really, like the grunts of a bear ready to charge. I always knew power, but never a power like that. “I feel like God Himself.” I struck an arrogant pose, making the muscles of my right leg explode as veins covered the entire right side of my body. “Ooh!” I squirted. The fire building up inside me was so much that steam rose from my every pore. “Maybe I am God, with all these muscles!” I lifted my arms up and flexed them in pure muscular perfection, and my biceps and triceps formed a mass of muscles bigger than my own head. “I feel like a fucking man, to be honest!” Unflexing my whole body, I slid my hands over my sides, checking up on my shape and my form. “Do I look like a man?”
“No. You look pretty much like a woman, albeit an incredibly muscular one.”
“Oh. ‘Incredibly muscular,’ huh?” I clicked my tongue, throwing flirty looks at that box. “You’re not coveting my body by any chance, are you?”
The box then turned into a mirror, reflecting my body without any imperfection. “Do you think you look like a man, earthling?”
Damn! Like… hot damn! God fucking damn it! I trembled upon seeing my insane size and musculature. “Fuck. I’m hot!!” Yes, I was, and I was big! The phrase ‘muscles upon muscles’ couldn’t even begin to describe the obscene bodybuilding statue that shone in that reflection. I felt like I had muscles crammed between the muscles, with yet more muscles fighting for space, struggling to come out from the depths of my being. I moved my right hand to my belly to poke at one of my ten rippling abdominal muscles, yet the muscles on my side, my chest, and my belly all rippled slightly, as if the smallest movement already sent shockwaves of power through my body.
Never in the entire Universe there had ever been a woman more ripped than I. Only my gorgeous stud, unconscious beneath my feet, was more muscular and shredded—vastly more so, I must confess. “Come closer.” I commanded to the box.
“Earthling, we should…”
They immediately stood silence upon my angry look. “Come. Closer.” I stretched my arm and pulled my finger. “Now.”
They obeyed. My masters moving closer to me, the mirror gave me a lesser view of my whole body, but a much closer one of my intense muscular definition. “Muscular.” I flexed. “Muscular!” I flexed some more, turning my body to the side and seeing the insane!… the freakishly enormous!… the bulging, rippling, planet-like shape and size of my butt! “Fuck! I’m obscene!” My tits roared, the milk spilling out even when they were not squirting it out. “Goddamn it! I feel like I’m about to explode!”
With one hand on my tits, I felt the tremendous mass of milk swirling inside of them. With the gentlest squeeze, *boom!*, gallons came raining, the same for my other tit, and my left hand descended to my pussy so as to praise its feminine perfection: so big, hard, bloated, juicy. “Cum!!” With a simple penetration of two fingers, I drilled gallons of squirt from it. The squirt exploded on my man’s abs and crotch, then rained all around us. Steam was coming out through my nostrils, like a bull in a snowy, winter plain, ready to charge, and aggressive fumes rose from where my pussy juice splashed, as never-ending as my gallons of squirt.
My muscles hardened on their own. Humongous veins covered my body. I was in heaven! Usually, orgasms so intense left me feeling gutless and void; whenever I squirted too hard, I always felt like my womb had come out through my cunt, and the resulting sensations sapped the strength of my legs and, overall, my entire lower body.
That time was different. That time, the harder I squirted, the harder I felt—the harder I actually became. All my muscles were roaring and hardening, with massive veins covering me now almost fully, rising inch by inch on my neck, surrounding even my own incredible tits. I exploded sexual fluids from every major pore: massive gallons being squirted through my tits, volcanic loads being erupted from my cunt. So continued my orgasms for many minutes until I shook my head and shouted: “enough!” Then, like an obedient slave, my body complied, and the torrential rain of fluids diminished to a more manageable outpour.
The box, now black again, was dripping with my junk. I had come so much clear, hot, transparent squirt that my man’s lower body was now completely clean of semen (his dick, though, kept trembling and wobbling as it vomited load after load after load of hot, thick cum). I looked to the box, smiling like the goddess I was. “I’m the best, am I not?”
There was an insecure pause before the answer—or rather, the correction: “of the beginners, yes. You’re the greatest there has ever been.”
I flexed my arms again. I loved seeing those rippling, vascular biceps achieving never-before-seen dimensions and weights. “Really? How can any woman be bigger than this?”
“Easy now. One thing at a time.”
“I suppose so.” I sat on my man again, making squirt fly all around as I let my gigantic buttocks fall on his harder-than-the-core-of-mountains abdominals. “Well, what are you here for? Checking out on my babies, I suppose?”
“Yes. We were scheduled to come here much earlier.”
“About a week after you and out breeder met.”
I cast a cocky smirk, sensing the general direction of that conversation. “Just one week? Oh, let me guess: you didn’t think I was going to last that long, huh?”
Again, an awkward pause. “Correct.”
Leaning back lazily on the body of my awesome lover, I threw mighty slaps on his left thigh. “Lift up your leg, honey.”
“Mm, grrr…” The beast grunted, and I felt the hesitation in his shivering muscles, like he was split between obeying me and, well, keeping his Alpha decency intact. I solved that impasse by throwing a cruel, almost painful kick on his right ball. *Booom!* The semiconscious stud sprang back into consciousness, eyes popping and tongue sticking out, and roared while his penis hardened a bit and shot a volcanic load into the distance.
“Obey me, stallion!” I grabbed that prick, tensing every muscle of my body, and wrestled it into submission, getting aroused by the loads that ran inside it so powerfully. “Do not forget who your master is, my breeding horse!”
“Oooh… uuuh!!” The pitiful giant wailed a little longer before pulling his left leg up. I rested my back on his thighs, using that leg like a throne while crossing my own legs and wantonly flexing my abs, showing off my shredded state and awesome definition in spite of my four-month pregnancy.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” I coated my hard, muscular belly with yet more seed from the stud. “Look at my size! Despite all my muscles, I still look fat as fuck!” I slapped my belly hard, knowing that my children enjoyed it. “But I love it. It is the destiny of any woman to be bred like this.” With my right hand, I tried to grab that prick and adjust it on my body. I was actually sitting on the massive bastard, which lazily flopped to the left side of my man.
While I adjusted that prick, the box moved around us. “What did you two do all this time?”
A loud noise echoed in the distance as I dropped the soft, orgasming penis on my lap: *flooomp!* With the twenty-eight inches of that thick python resting just under my big, pregnant belly, I massaged the prick and pulled it against my skin. “Wow. Wow, wow, wow!” My eyebrows were raised just as my jaw was dropped. “Look at the virility of this stud!”
“Please, earthling, we need to know.”
Treating those aliens just as bossy as I did my stallion, I grabbed the dick with both hands and moved it over to my belly. It was even hard to see anything beyond it, you see, with my huge belly and not the eight, nine inches of girthy cock on top of it! The penis throbbed every time a new bulk of cum coursed through it, and the semen now splashed on my man’s pecs. From his crotch, the penis now rested on my belly like a huge dead python, its veins hypnotizing me, its arteries pumping blood harder than the hearts of whales. “Come again, loves?”
The box moved closer. “What did you two do all this time?”
“Well, I think you know what we did.” I spread my legs just to squirt an awesome load into the box. “We fucked.”
“All this time?”
My smile became cockier every time! “Yes.”
“For four months?”
“Oh, why are you bothering me with such questions? Didn’t you see the action? Didn’t you come only now because you knew we were screwing like animals?”
“Yes, that’s what the intel told us, but we were not actually watching you.”
“Oh, you weren’t?”
“No. Privacy is important for the highest-quality coitus. We don’t want to risk any imperfection on your offspring.”
“Oh, with a human stallion like this, you need not worry about that.” I grabbed the penis and pulled it a little higher on my body, coating my right side with jizz. “With a massive, hard male breeder like this stud, imperfection is absolutely impossible.” My belly throbbed and I felt intense pangs of pain in the vicinity of my womb. I shouted like a beast, but never undid my proud smile. “Oh, you little beasts, quiet down!” I lovingly fondled my belly with my left hand and the sprawling body of that penis. “Don’t you love feeling your daddy’s dick?” I pushed the monster cock harder against my belly. The movement inside it seemed to calm down for a while. “Oh, you love it, don’t you? This is what a man feels like. A real man! A breeding stud with more cock than what he knows what do to with it.” Pulling the prick higher, I turned its gigantic, bloated helmet to my face. “That’s why a real man needs a strong mommy like me—to show him what to do with his monster penis.” With light taps on the side of the penis and careful foot massage on one of his balls, I coaxed another wave of semen from him. The cum fountain splashed on my face, giving me a facial superior as if I were kneeling in a circle of hundreds of horses. “Oh, my god!!” The semen splashed and burst from my mouth. Whenever I wanted to air, I turned the fertile cock to my tits, bathing them on his milk and lactating the milk of my own on the sex soup. “I love his jizz!” I kissed and bit and sucked the very opening of his urethra. “I love bathing on the spunk of thousands of horses!” My right foot worshiped his right balls, coaxing gallons and gallons and more gallons of it every second. “And to know that this superman cums the same as thousands of stallions every second… fuck! You’ll have siblings for life, my children!”
The alien box hovered near my head, unsure of what to do. “We see you feel well.”
“Fuck yeah, I do!” Jizz was spilling out of my mouth and ears. My beautiful, blonde hair was now one huge mass of cum. “What? You thought I weren’t gonna make it, right?”
“Yes. As we said, your performed much better than expected.”
“No: you said I performed the best. The best!”
“Yes. Indeed, you broke past every record.”
“Of course I did!” I squeezed the monster cock right in the middle, managing to bend its girth under my grip. A pool of cum formed under my grapple, making the lower half of the prick bloat before I relaxed it and left a volcanic explosion almost rip my head off. Once all the jizz stopped exploding—two minutes later—I was laughing and gargling, planting my lips on that cum fountain and drilling it with my tongue for more.
The box rumbled near my ears, its mysterious engines and motors (whatever they were) working in mysterious, alien ways. “Do you enjoy power?”
What were they getting at? Now I was quizzed. “Yes.” I set the prick aside for a moment. “I always did. Now that I come to think of it, I always basked on my superiority towards all other people. I loved being the biggest, hottest woman, as well as irresistible to literally any man I knew.” My foot tortured his balls a little harder. My monster grunted and his muscles roared, all their power now under my thumb—and feet, and buttocks, and my whole damned body! “To have beaten a stud like… oh!” I squirted. “You can see how that doesn’t help my ego at all, right?”
“Do you want to be much str-?”
“Is he dead?”
I looked at my man’s face. It twitched and quivered, with his eyes moving to all directions under the lids. “I’m just curious, you know. Despite knowing I’m awesome, even I doubt sometimes that I have really taken this beast down with my pussy.” I flexed my arms, felt the power ripple all over me. “Is he really knocked-out or is his just pretending?” I punched his pecs. Damn! Those beasts felt like iron walls! “It still feels like a dream, you see.”
“Yes, he is unconscious. His energy is depleted.”
“Well, almost so.” I felt the thick, gooey cum flowing endlessly under the sole of my foot. “Can you scan him, just to be sure? I want to know exactly how defeated this beast of a man is!”
They complied to my every request, talking to me now with a much more noticeably kind and even tone—it was like we were becoming equals of some sort! “He’s near unconscious. We estimate he will be deep asleep in a few hours, and will only get up again in two weeks.”
I laughed. “You mean to say I—a mere human!—have taken this horse down for two weeks? Ha!” I flexed and roared. “I’m a fucking god!!” Again, chuckles came from the box. I looked at it almost defiantly. “You care to tell me what is so funny?”
“You might be getting away of yourself, human. Remember: he’s our weakest, meekest stallion.”
“And how many pussies has this ‘weak, meek’ stallion ravished before me?” The box moved back. I was having none of its silence: “answer me, servants!” I snapped my fingers at it, and the aliens obediently replied:
“Over six-thousand women. Six thousand, five hundred and thirty-eight women, if you want a precise number.”
My heart skipped a beat. “He slept with… fuck.” My touch became more adoring on his skin. I whistled at him. “Wow. You really are a sex machine, huh?”
“Why do you want to know it? Is it just to measure the quality of your man?”
“His quality needs no measuring.” I placed the cock besides my lips and lapped at the incoming semen with my tongue, just like a pussy drinking her milk. “You can taste it on his jizz alone. No. What I want to know is this: how many of these six thousand bitches have achieved what I achieved?” My gaze became feral. “How many have knocked him out for over two weeks, or lasted over four months of near-uninterrupted fucking with him?”
Undecided noises came from the box, the aliens again discussing amongst themselves. “None have achieved what you have. Of the six and half thousand women he fucked, only three hundred were able to resist sex with him without being knocked out themselves in less than thirty minutes. Of these three hundred, the number of those who resisted a full day with him is less than forty.”
“And, of these forty…”
“Their strength is much superior from this point onwards. These women discover, just like you did, the raw muscular power within their organisms. Of these forty women, a full half resisted with him for over a week. Of these twenty remaining, only two fucked him (or resisted his fucking) for over a month, one having gone as long as four months, however. You’re the first one in history to take him down… at all.”
My pussy squirted a long, triumphant load of nectar on my stud’s legs. I spread my own monstrous legs farther so as to bathe as much of the planet as possible with my juices. That was a squirt of victory, a gush of triumph. By god, I felt my insides emptying themselves out by the sheer strength of my orgasmic ejections! Fuck me, I was squirting harder than a bunch of mules taking a piss! That was filthy, yeah, it was indecent, but hell if I cared! I squirted like a fucking whale and I wanted more! “Grrr!!” I showed my teeth and let out a mighty… *roooarr!!* My pussy was stretched. A true ocean blasted through it. The faint, delicate rain of woman cum became a storm. I lifted my waist up so as to squirt hundreds of gallons straight at the clouds. My wonderful, super strong female ejaculation reached up to a few hundred feet of height. I felt power and heat on my breast, with my guts moving around. My womb throbbed against my belly, showing its contour on my abs. You could see some of my babies—half a dozen, if not a little bit more—swirling and swimming in it. They were the mighty horses I would give birth to. “By god, I’m a fucking goddess!!” I let out explosion after explosion of frenzied lady-jizz, finishing it off with a monstrous, three-hundred-feet-tall ejaculation after eight crazy minutes of cunt-pissing. By the end of it all, a vast dome of water assaulted me and my man’s body, and the black box was like a puddle of gel in the air, my squirt dripping slowly and heavily from its edges.
“Have you ever squirted this much?”
I flexed my muscles, never tired of seeing the veins sprawling all over them. “Fuck no! I was always a mere, measly woman!” I flexed my abs, counting the beautiful muscles pushing the womb back into the place. “One, two… four, six… mm. I’m a monster now! I never thought such power would ever be possible!” I took huge masses of the semen on my man’s body and ate them up, gulping so loudly. “Something to do with this awesome sperm, I suppose.”
The black box moved up and down, very delicately. “No. Our males’ sperm have little effect upon an alien body.”
I looked to the box, cum dripping from my lips. “Then what…?” I smiled. My muscles flexed and roared on their own, and squirts of milk blasted through my monstrous tits. “Oh. I get you. You mean to say all this power…” I flexed my arms. My tits jolted, almost hitting my chin. Milk and sweat flew everywhere. “All of this… comes from me, and only me?” The box, again, presented me with an annoying pause. I was having none of it anymore: “just say it, will ya! Stop pretending like I’m not a pretty big deal.” I raised my arms besides my head, and the swelling of their muscles was almost great enough to crush my skull between them. “You and I know I’m a fucking god!”
“No, you are not.” The box sounded serious enough. “You might be the greatest novice we’ve ever had, but you’re still untested. Truly untested.”
“Ha, yeah, like hell I am.” I relaxed my muscles and sat more straightly. “You mean your other studs, right? I haven’t yet fucked the hell out of them.”
Their tone became slightly surprised and somewhat amused. “You fancy yourself powerful enough to fuck our studs—our real studs—dry?”
I nodded, though a bit of insecurity made my heart skip beats frequently. “Yes, I am.” The box moved from side to side, almost as if mocking me with its movements alone. “Send me them.”
“Your studs.” I licked my lips. As I talked, I raised my hands and took literal bites of the thick cream my man had ejaculated. It was so sweet and tasty. God! It felt like a really fancy banquet, tastier than the dearest desserts on Earth—maybe that’s why I’d managed to survive four fucking months drinking and eating nothing but his cum. “Send them all to me.”
“Send them all?”
“All of them.” I flexed my muscles. My body literally increased in size, height, and girth as I made those beasts roar like engines. “One by one, I will destroy them. I will milk their cocks dry and drink them like bottles. Your studs will not be even sex dolls once I’m done with them.” I licked my lips again, making sure that always a little bit of cum was oozing through them—a sort of instinctive sensual primitiveness, you see. “They will be cups. Bottles of cum! Mere tanks of semen I will exhaust whenever I feel thirsty enough.” I grabbed the monster penis of my man. Girl, that thing was heavy! After not touching it for some time, it was easy to forget the thing weighted a literal ton of pounds! Still, with those powerful muscles I’d endowed myself with, I could now lift that 28-inch soft cock with relative ease. My muscles hardened, my arms flexed, my chest heaved, and my breath became fast and difficult, yeah, but still… “uurh!!” I could lift that beast and handle it as if it was my own cock. “Like this!”
I ate the nine-inch-wide helmet and pumped the cock violently with a single hand. The jizz flowed hot and hard. I ate it all, however, without letting it ooze through my mouth or nostrils. In a way, the monster was much more exhausted now, and I was still taking easy on him. His soft penis was harder and bigger than two or three aroused stallions, and the volume of seminal fluids that coursed through it was enough to drown a person in mere seconds. Again, my pussy showered that rod with praising juices. Though I was a goddess, even I had to gush on a penis whose power was literally unmeasurable.
My belly grew and bloated and hardened as the single first wad of the jizz filled up my stomach completely—like, thirty gallons or something. The rest, well, you know the drill: filling up my guts like balloons, then blasting noisily through my anus, serving as filling between my massive buttocks and that man’s divine abs. And so it went on for many minutes, until I was done tasting that seed and allowed the cock to merely pour its gallons on my tits and my whole body. “Good stud.” I massaged his balls with my fingers and one foot, praising their virility. “What a good boy you are.”
The box moved closer. “You pretend to turn every stud in our arsenal into this sorry state.”
“I told you ‘yes,’ already.” My tone was of sincere aggravation. “You’re the ones who keep wasting my time. What the hell are you waiting for, honestly?”
The box lowered itself upon my bulging belly, squeezing it just lightly enough so we both could feel the babies swimming inside it. “Them. We’re waiting for them.”
Their statement did little to pacify me. “So what? You think I cannot power-fuck, exhaust, and deplete a stallion while pregnant?”
Odious chuckles came again from the box, stirring up my blood like boiling magma. “Even if you could, we wouldn’t risk the safety of our offspring.”
The box moved away. “Don’t forget why you were brought here: you are meant to breed endlessly and give birth to increasingly perfect, stronger, more virile and fertile members of your species. The final result, if you’re strong enough to survive and see it, will explain a lot of the questions you might have in the moment.”
I smiled, moving the prick over any area of my body that was buried under at least three hundred pounds of thick jizz. “So, can I have your men once I’m done pooping out children? All of them?”
“You will have one of them. Omega.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Omega? You mean…?
The box ‘nodded.’ “Yes. He is the weakest of our proper studs.”
“Omega. Huh. Why don’t you send…?”
“Be silent, earthling.” My muscles flexed, my body stiffened. There was something really eerie about their tone now. “We will give you Omega, and then you will finally understand what a true Stud of our harem is like. Until now, for pure lack of perspective, you think this little failed experiment of a male you just fucked is a ‘real man,’ a ‘real stud,’ or whatever your petty human mind fancies. He isn’t. You will begin to grasp what a God is… once you’re absolutely beaten and broken and torn apart by the weakest of our raging stallions.”
My heart was bumping against my chest. My massive milk juggers dripped constantly, and often they squirted at the pace of my heartbeat. “The weakest, huh? Just like my man…” I touched my stud’s abs, under a whole foot of semen, “was the weakest too?”
“This man is not a stud. He is a sample.” I gulped upon hearing it. “He doesn’t come close to qualifying as a stud, so we use him and other ‘sample males’ to test the unproven females. Even amongst other samples, he is the weakest, the most pathetic by a considerable margin. Once you finally taste a Stud—a Stud proper!—you will see that their different isn’t as much as a canyon as it actually is like the distance between two galaxies.” The box moved closer at a very fast speed. At that distance, it could now hear the uneven, hasty pace of my heartbeat. “This sample you fucked is about twenty times weaker than the weakest of our ‘samples.’ We’re confident enough, however, that you can beat our strongest sample, even after a lot of pain and a lot of blood.” For some reason, I could sense that the aliens behind that box were actually smirking at me. “The different between Omega, our weakest Stud, and the strongest of all the samples is on a factor of about seven hund-”
“Stop. Stop it.” I threw a huge wad of spunk on the box, almost like a child.
“Oh. Afraid of the truth, we see.”
“No.” I smiled. “Afraid of you jerks spoiling all my fun.” I spread my legs and squirted a huge, powerful blast on the box. “I will destroy Omega.” I cleared my throat, swallowing every bit of insecurity that could still be heard in it, making my words as firm as my body. “I will destroy him and all other studs you have in line.” With perfect control of my muscular cunt—itself as hard and big as many men’s biceps—I shut the stream of girl cum to then ask in a genuinely curious tone: “mm, how many would they be? Your studs?”
“Why don’t you concern yourself with the task at hand instead of…”
*Splaash!* Actually, the mass of spunk I threw at that box, upon hitting its surface, didn’t make a single noise; that was just how I imagined it, or how I remember hearing it. The jizz was so thick that it behaved more like a solid than a liquid; a ball of pure testicular rubber, stuck at the surface of that box, barely sliding down after I threw it. “Just cut the bull crap and tell me, fuck!”
The box distanced itself from me gradually, giving me the impression that the aliens were grumbling amongst themselves. They were annoyed, they were teased, but they were also attracted to me—and they hated me for this attraction. “Fine.” Came their voice. “Our harem contains ten studs, of which Omega will be your first—and maybe your last.”
“Fuck you.” I flicked them the middle finger.
“After Omega stands Upsilon, Lord of the Hundred Thousand Ravished Cunts.”
I shivered. My throat, as big and wide as it was, could barely swallow all the saliva I produced when clearing it at that time. “Your second weakest stud has fucked over a hundred thousand women?”
“Yes. A pitiful number, you might think, but that’s because we focus on quality over quantity.”
I cleared my throat again, making my muscles rumble as I adjusted my posture on my man’s even more muscular body. “Mm, yeah. Pitiful.”
After a brief, tense pause, the box continued: “if you survive Upsilon, your next lay will be Sigma—our first Lord of a Million Femmes.”
My eyebrows went all the way up. “Let me guess: your third weakest member…”
“Correct. He has fucked over a million females, and keeps fucking and breeding them on rotation, with an entire solar system of harems at his disposal. He’s got claim to the lays of all the inferior Studs, yet he naturally still can’t fuck the billions of women of the superior studs.”
“Billions of…? Wait a minute! How can these men fuck so many women if Earth…?”
“Do you presume Earth to be the only planet with life in the universe? The only planet where young, lush females, with the hidden power of Raging Arousal and Shadow Muscles laying in their core, exist? Silly mortal! You’re not competing against the mortals of your planet. Once you surpass Sigma…”
“Oh!” I smiled. “Don’t you mean ‘if?’”
The aliens ignored me. “If you surpass Sigma, your competition will be the female-kind of the entire universe.”
“And how many are these women?” I clutched my hands and punched one palm with my knuckle. “How many weaker cunts will I have to outfuck and turn obsolete?”
I could hear chuckles again. “Past Sigma lies Omikron, the Angel of Gushing Cunts. Lord Omikron has his own designated Solar System too, with the difference that many of its planets he created himself.”
“Oh! Is he, like, literally a god?”
“A sexual god? Definitely.” Did I detect… arousal??… in those aliens’ voices?? “An actual god? The likes of which you humans imagine? Not quite so. He creates planets not with some magical or mystical powers, but by ejaculating so much and so hard that his semen coalesces into a hot, burning planet on his system. The same happens with the squirts of his women, which creates water planets just like your Neptune—with the only difference that they are perpetually hot, if not hotter than the sun itself.”
I puckered my lips and felt an intense motion in my womb. «Damn! Is that the level I’m competing in?» Taking the massive, spasming cock on my hand, my imagination wandered to the humogouns sizes and girths of the studs to come. Were they as heavy as mountains? Fuck! Were they, like, literally planet-sized? “A whole planet… made of cum!”
“Planets, dear. Planets.”
I sucked gallons out of the cock. The gurgling sound inside me… oh! Who could ever get tired of that?! (I know you don’t, my reader. Oh, you’re just like me: an adorer of big, fat, monster cocks, who always get moist—or hard—whenever you visualize that stallion-sized super dong producing sweet, fat cum like whole factories of semen! Ha, ha! Don’t you tell me you’re any different!).
My throat bulged and throbbed as the gallons made their way into my stomach, which grew insanely heavy, almost crushing my spine, with the iron-like weight of each load. «Fuck me, god, this is like liquid metal!» And the heat certainly wasn’t much cooler. “Tell me, aliens, how many planets of cum has this god ejaculated into existence?”
The cum exploded through my mouth and nostrils, even a little bit through my eyes as I spat it out and struggled for air. “What the fuck?”
The aliens appeared arrogant. “What? He is literally a hundred years old, and able to produce enough sperm in a day than all the volcanoes of your Earth could in the entirety of your planet’s history. It’s even a low performance for him, indeed, who after hundreds of years of age—for he is so genetically perfect that one year for him is about fifty for you humans—still came little over a two hundred planets of semen and three hundred with the squirts of his lovers.”
“A million… fuck! And that with only a million lovers?!” I could barely hear myself straight, you see, for it really took a hell of an evolution for me—or any woman—to say ‘only’ in such a context without the slightest hint of irony.
The words of the black box kept dumfounding me: “his harem is fifty-million strong, actually.”
“Holy hell! Mm, well,” I looked around myself, seeing the entire surface of the planet covered by my man’s jizz and my own milk and pussy nectar, “guess it’s not that impressive, indeed, once me and my man alone have covered this entire planet with junk.”
“You’re starting to get it, my dear.”
“Well, huh, and after Omicron, I suppose I will be fucking a quasi-literal god, isn’t it?”
“Oh, dear earthling…” I could hear them rubbing their hands, so cartoonishly evil, “you have no idea.”
I bent the fully-soft cock at the box and pumped it so that it jizzed a powerful blast at its surface. The aliens allowed themselves to be bathed in the spunk, almost as if they liked it themselves. “Then give me an idea.” After that, I hungrily ate the prick again, and this time I really wanted to taste the deepest recesses of its cum production, sticking my tongue in its urethra and making its already-enormous girth swell even wider.
“Lambda is your next stud, as well as they Vice-Roy of all Lower Studs.”
“Mmph… shit…!” I kept slurping on and sucking that cock like a kid on a candy bar. Jizz oozed through my nostrils. I allowed it to flow up through my tear ducts and rain from my eyes. Once again, I made my entire face into a living vessel of semen. “Lower Studs, uh?”
“These are the five weakest members of our Ten Breeding Gods. Lambda is the second most powerful amongst them, weaker only the Theta, King of the Low.” As I was too distracted with the influx of jizz, the aliens continued to speak on their own. “Above these Five Lower Gods you will meet the Upper Gods of Reproduction—studs so powerful that their very physiques defy even our own comprehension. We created them, you see, but that’s the case in which creation surpasses the creators, in a way.” The box hovered closer to me, letting the oozing cum splash in its surface. “Epsilon is the lowest, weakest of all these gods, and still he is a thousand times more powerful than Theta, billions upon trillions of times more powerful than the lowest of Studs, Omega, and near-infinitely more powerful than this petty male you so avidly suck.”
With semen bursting through my every hole, I puked gallons on the body of my vanquished breeder only to blurt out the question: “right, cool. Tell me their names and how many women they laid!”
“Epsilon lays with a billion women, each of them more beautiful and a thousand times more fertile than even the highest, most sexually arousing of Earth’s femmes.”
“You’re not including me in this account, are you?”
“No. You transcended all of Earth’s females.”
“Good, good.” I went back to sucking the endless cock, snapping my fingers at the box so that the aliens could carry on.
“Delta is the next one. A hundred and fifty billion women.”
«Fuck… me!» I just couldn’t believe those numbers! «How the fuck are these studs able to breed entire solar systems’ worth of pussy?!» I was even amazed that the entire universe contained so much life, let alone such beautiful, hard, and lush forms of it—but maybe the domains of those studs wasn’t just our universe; maybe their real domains… were countless universes spread across the multiverse!
“Gamma is the third strongest stud. Crown Prince of Breeding Gods. He’s ravished over a trillion women, and his domain is an entire universe.” My heart sank. So that really was the scale we were dealing with! “Beta is the Supreme King of Breeding Deities. His is the domain of a hundred thousand different universes. The number of gorgeous females conquered (or killed) by his god dick and his endlessly virile balls is too great for your little mind to even begin to fathom. Suffice to say that he is the greatest of our creations, and that nowhere in the Multiverse anyone can find a being more perfect, more virile, more ludicrously muscular and ravenous as the supreme breeder of existence. If there is something of a God in this realm, he is it. His semen can literally breed life on its own. His ejaculations form galaxies, and his penis, while soft, has the power to terraform a planet. He is the beginning and end of all sexuality. We ourselves have built statues on His name, for his prowess is so extreme even we are willing to recognize him as an equal… of sorts.”
My mind was swirling—and not just because of the indecent amounts of cum I was sucking at every second. Popping the dick out again, I vomited oceans of condensed man-milk for a solid ten minutes until I had enough strength to breathe and ask: “wait… if he is merely Beta…”
“Yes, earthling. There is One above this god.”
I looked to the box, yet the bastards didn’t seem quite willing to tell me more. “Who is him? Who the fuck can be yet more powerful than a literal god?” My heart was sinking, yet my face was burning with excitement. “Tell me! Tell me now! Who is the most powerful creature on this universe? On all universes?? Who is… Alpha?”
After a long silence, the box simply said: “Seedmaker.”
I tilted my head a little. “What?”
The box corrected me again: “his… their name…” I could sense their smiles, “is Seedmaker.”
A bunch of questions exploded in my mind, my arousal so intense I felt my pussy literally swelling, the skin of its labia stretching to such a point it almost tore itself up. My nipples hardened just like the rest of my body and my awesome muscles, sensing the tremendous weight and power in that name. «Seed. Maker!» I licked my lips. I blinked. The box was no longer there! “Wait…!” I looked around, seeing nothing. I didn’t even see that thing moving away! Was it all just…?
“We told you enough.” I heard their voices, now ethereal and spirit-like, coming from the cum-clouds in the sky. “Rest easy and breed nicely. Once you give birth to your first litter, your challenge will truly begin.”
I was left alone in the sea of spunk, with only the gurgling noises of the ejaculating monster penis to make me company. Bringing that penis up to my body, I cradled it between my tits, moving its head over my face and giving myself an epic facial of boiling cum. “So be it.” I opened my mouth and gargled on the jizz. “At least I know who my ultimate foe is.” Cramming my face into the dick, I swallowed as much of it as I could while keeping my absolute calm and ease. Even with ‘just’ ten inches of god-cock inside my throat, and barely making an effort to squeeze it or arouse him, my stud trembled, shivered, and grunted under me. Puffs of steam left his quivery face, and his eyes twitched under their lids, my love sure experiencing tremendous amounts of pleasure within his fuck-drunk, comatose wet dreams.
I fondled that magnificent face. After four months of fucking, the stud had allowed a shallow, blond beard to grow. Even after so much time without care, his beard grew at a perfect pace and stopped at a perfect height, naturally trimmed without anyone grooming it. “Gorgeous genes!” I felt the firmness of that jawline. “You can cut diamonds with this! Such a stud!” I pinched his immense, thick lips and pulled them. “Such a big-dicked god stallion!”
I pumped his dick while swallowing his unending loads. As I said, I was never getting tired of their taste, which was different, yet just as heavenly at every gulp, and now that I fondled that giant’s face with my foot (and occasionally my hand—he was so tall it was very difficult to reach his face when sitting on his crotch), seeing the perfection in all his constitution, I stood confident in my dick-bending abilities, knowing that, if I took out a man such as him, I could easily destroy any other stud that came my way.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” I asked myself, and blissfully gulped the endless gallons my gorgeous horse kept ejaculating.
* * * * *
The following months were fuck-fest the likes of which no human could imagine, let alone understand. The monster stud didn’t hold back because of my pregnancy—and neither did I. If anything, the later stages of my pregnancy only made me hornier, beastlier, more fertile and ravenous, like I was eager to remind him of the pussy-power that sucked his cock into absolute submission.
As the months went on, and both me and my belly grew to abnormal levels, I really came to understand what the aliens meant by saying he was the ‘weakest, meekest’ of studs. Despite still standing six feet taller than me, and having literally five times the muscles mass, with a dick so big it could pierce me from anus and through guts and still break free from my mouth with many free inches poking from my lips, at no time did that stud present me with the same challenge he did in the first months of our fucking, let alone the brutal first week when he had me.
At any given time, you would find me literally riding that beast into exhausting, muscle-tearing, nerve-bending orgasms. The aliens had brought us to a whole new planet, leaving that previous one to burn and dry all its cum out throughout the eons, yet the vast mountains and deep valleys and canyons of our new planet, with its paradisiacal valleys and sprawling oceans, none of them could resist the massacre I did to that man.
“Punch them!” At times, around the seventh and eighth month of my pregnancy, I turned my swollen, yet still muscular belly to the stud, and slapped it to invite him to throw his mightiest punch. “Do not hold back. Crush your babies!”
He was exhausted. He was heaving. He was almost crying, the poor stud. In a way, I lamented the fact that he couldn’t throw his strongest punch even if he wanted, because for the past months I had tortured him and massacred his muscles with my pussy until he was nearly paraplegic with exhaustion; still, even in his depleted, quasi-annihilated form, the stud still could punch through a literal mountain, leaving cracks from his fist that went all the way to the tip of any mountain of any planet.
When he punched the face of a canyon, even at his most exhausted, dried-up form, I always got wild orgasms upon seeing the cracks spread all over the canyon, with huge sections falling around us—the power of my super stud literally rivalling that of a comic book hero!
Hence, when I turned my baby-full belly to him, he looked at me with absolute shock, even contempt, the dripping, raining sweat in his face almost preventing him to speak. “What do you…” He paused and breathed hard. He was so short of breath, the poor boy!
Even though my own body was sore, bruised, and hurt, and even though my legs trembled a little upon standing, I managed to keep an upright pose next to that broken giant. He stood at fourteen-feet, but now spent most of his time bent over, fighting for breath, and the sweat from his body almost built, like, a whole damned lake around us.
Canyons and lakes had been filled with his semen. Entire mountains had been painted by it, and I made sure to aim his ejaculating cum-cannon to them, coating them with his virile seed. By that point, oh, we had managed to fill (and ruin) half the planet with his jizz, and I was working hard to drown the other half in cum.
It became clear to me, however, that the stud was nearing its end. “What’s up, baby boy?” My muscles roared. My arms remained constantly flexed—or looking like it—regardless of what I did, and my body had inflated to such size and weight that I left cracks on the ground at every step. As my hips jiggled while I marched towards that man, the ground kept constantly breaking under my feet: *craaarck! Craaack!! Craaack!!* If I stood completely still, I would sink on the solid rock just the same. “Afraid of your goddess?” I lifted my monstrous arms, playing with my long, ass-whipping hair, making my giant tits rise, exposing to that man the bloated sphere of my pregnant belly.
Pregnancy could be a pain to normal humans, but that one… oh! There was literally not a single bad thing about it! My babies had grown to the size of little fillies inside of me, all sixteen of those giant beasts, and my belly had swelled to such a size I could literally store a fucking car in it, yet the monstrous pregnancy also gave me all the tools required to deal with it. For example, my belly had grown, but so did my body: I now stood at frightening nine fucking feet, with my muscle mass alone adding up to more than two thousand pounds! If you counted all the milk I produced in my tits, oh, those would be another five hundred pounds total, and even my hair gained consistency and weight, like I had chain of iron swinging from my head.
I walked towards that super stud, whose head was well lower than mine, his hands holding on to his knees, his curled posture trying to not let him fall. I grabbed his chin and pulled him up. His face was still much bigger than mine, but now I felt we could both look at each other on equal footing.
I wish I could have actually trained those muscles to make them bigger on purpose, but the stud didn’t let me; instead, we fucked like wild beasts, bringing havoc to the entire planet, and now I grabbed him by the face as if to finally establish my utter dominance upon him.
With my left hand, I leaned down and grabbed one of his balls. *Crunch!* You could hear my fingers sinking in the semen, the many hard veins feeling like iron ducts bending on their tips. “What do we have here?” I smiled, teasing that stud with my mouth. I no longer felt an overwhelming size and fluidity in my hands; now, when I touched his balls, I only felt the pure hardness of their many veins, arteries, and cum ducts, with the semen still flowing hard inside them, but noticeably more depleted. “You’re drying, my stud.” I kissed his cheeks, making sure my lips teased the very edges of his own. “Your penis is not producing the gallons it once did.” I looked around us. His jizz was everywhere, even raining down from the skies, yet there were still many parts uncovered by his cum; a lots of virgin territory he’d yet failed to fecundate. “In your first two months, you managed to cover an entire planet with your semen. Hundreds of feet deep, my stud! Now, after five more months,” I kissed him, showing pity, “you can barely cover half a planet with just a few feet of your awesome sauce.” I grabbed the bull by both balls—those ostrich-egg-sized testicles still dwarfing my own hands. “Your cum tanks are all veins and muscles, now.” I licked him, my tongue salivating all over his face. “You’re finished. You pathetic, weakly virgin!”
Bingo! That was all I needed to reawaken the ferocious monster I’d fallen in love with: his muscles soared, his fibers roared, and a shockwave of power almost pushed my body away. His face contorted into an expression of pure rage, his body crashing against mine with sincere murderous intent. His massive abdomen, shining with its twelve-plus gorgeous muscles, crushed my belly, and his tree trunk arms locked me and crushed me, squeezing semen and lubes out of my mouth and my pussy.
My babies danced inside my womb. There were bulges all the time hitting against my monster’s abs. They too were fighting their daddy. Sometimes, the biggest pain came not from that monster, who attacked me from outside, but from the virile beasts that counter-attacked him from inside out. Their punches and their kicks would have torn any other woman in half; at points, their power was such I knew they could punch horses or bulls into puddles of blood. As my monster carried me over the spunk-ridden valley like a tractor, I squirted all the way under our feet, building a huge trail (or a literal river) of nectar. It was too much joy to experience so much power!
Me! My stud! My babies! We were like a burning sun, so hot and powerful, and the earth cracked easily into a small canyon under my lover’s feet as he careened me against the slope of a mountain and pinned me against its wall. Cracks immediately covered a surface superior to entire football stadiums, and I felt the pebbles and the dust from the cracked mountain on my body as the monster pulled a fist back and looked at me with literal blood in his eyes.
“Whore!!” His grunt made the earth tremble.
My heart shivered with a bit of fear—and that’s precisely what I wanted. “What?” I adjusted myself in the mountain’s crust. My body had caved a few inches into the slope, with pieces of the stone wall falling around me. “Punch me.” I slapped my swollen belly. “Punch me, stud.”
The monster roared. Columns of steam burst from his nostrils. His whole body was trembling; his muscles so insanely hard! The exhaustion and literal depletion of fluids inside him actually made him much sexier than before: if once he had a healthy—albeit minuscule—layer of fat to his muscles, plus a lot of water to both power and cool off his amazing physique, now he was tethering on the edge of negative fat! It was amazing! His muscles fibers were, like, almost pure form and titanium! He was still white and beautiful, yet even then the red of his scorching blood shone brighter and redder, almost turning him into a living piece of amber iron.
Fumes and steam rose everywhere! He was a living, breathing machine of cum, now struggling to keep his cock hard. Oh, yes, because all his hardness was no longer being translated to the hardest feature in his physique—and his very reason for being: his cock, now, was only semi-rigid. After those five-or-so-months of near-continuous fucking, it was not only his balls there were almost completely dried out, but his cock, too, was beginning to lose it luster.
Yes: it took me basically eight months of almost uninterrupted fucking to take that weakly stud down… yet I had finally done it! I could sense the frustration in my man’s body: the way he moved, the way he grunted, the way his eyes twitched and he looked briefly to his crotch, trying his best to keep that penis up! His semi-flaccid pecker still stood at over forty-inches of length and ten inches of width, yet for him, the awesome breeder, that was the same as having a micro-dick—and I pushed my finger against this bruise as soon as I smelled it.
“Pussy.” I licked my lips. “You’re as weak as your penis is small.”
I could barely see his fist as it crushed my belly—and the rest of my body—into the surface of the mountain. A giant crack sprawled to the mountain top; dozens of tons of stone collapsed around us. My body sank three feet inside the stone, a huge, vertical crater forming on that slope. *BOOOM!!!* Once the monster pulled back his fist, he had tears in his eyes, and suddenly the shock colored his face. What had he done, he probably thought? Did he really kill all his children along with his woman?
With frantic motions, he wailed his arms on the veil of dust that was formed after the blow. He was so tired he was beyond words at that point, simply grunting and roaring like an animal until he saw a peek of my body crammed inside the mountain.
Jizz oozed through my mouth, nostrils, and eyes. It was a slow, continuous flow, unlike the violent and loud bursts of cum and nectar though my pussy. There was a lot of blood too, but mostly coming from my nose, and, as I looked up to my man, I saw his expression of fear replaced by one of utter shock—and, later on, absolute humiliation.
I spat blood and cum to my side. “What?” With one hand, I blocked one nostril and sneezed cum and blood through the other one. “Wait?” I laughed. My laughter echoed in the distance. I think that even on the moons someone could have heard it. I laughed long and hard, seeing my man getting bigger, harder, and redder (albeit with his dick remaining painfully semi-hard) with anger. “Oh, my god!! Did you, like, actually think you could hurt me? Like… for real?” With a mocking gesture, I threw some pebbles at his burning body. “If this was really the best you could do, I will rip your cock off and use it as a dildo. I’ll get more power and anger from my own muscles, thank you very much!” I flexed my arms and then savagely slapped my belly, where you could see the babies swimming and fighting back, begging for more. “FUCKING HIT ME, YOUR PIN-DICKED LOSER! Give me your all!! Come on!” I spat on him. The saliva was immediately vaporized upon contact with his vein-ridden face. “Virgin! Hasmter-cock! You truly are the weakest of your species, huh?!” Craters formed under his feet. The beast was charging up! “Pathetic. Can’t even keep your flaccid dick up.”
Gotta admit: I didn’t expect blacking out. The following minutes were a bunch of colors and lightning bolts and weird figures dancing in my sight, and the burning pain on my belly, my legs, and my crotch showed me that, yep, the guy was going all out.
When I recovered my consciousness, fuck, I was flying in the air at high speeds, the mountain where I was pinned against no longer in front of me, but getting distant at every second, completely split in two and crumbling like a sand castle after that monster had literally punched me through it.
He wasn’t done: I saw his massive, superhuman body now flying to me at even higher speeds. My heart throbbed with apprehension; my body stopped feeling its lips for a while. Yes! I was afraid of him again. «Kill me!» I dared him, licking my lips. «Fucking try and kill me, you living horse of a bull stud!!»
His subsequent punches and kicks pinned me against the massive walls of a canyon. The place was a beautiful, large, and mostly of straight and clear surface, where you could see all the deformations of the stone as the beast pinned me and pummeled my body against it, foot after foot of depth being carved out with my back. Despite his vicious blows, I only spat cum and squirt through my holes; my body was now as strong as the planet we stood on. The harder he hit me, the wider I smiled. There came a point where I actually grew tired of his punches, and instead, catching him off-guard, I grabbed him by the jaw and pulled his face closer to me.
“Harder!” I commanded, and the beast finally surrendered to his fear: the punches died out along with his lips. His ultra-hard body went limp, and for a moment I felt he was going to kneel before me. He didn’t, but what came next was equally more humiliating: a giant, gushing noise came from his dick, yet the texture and the heat of that fluid was all too different from his semen, even from sound alone.
I looked down and felt the aggressive smell hitting and burning on the face. His legs were trembling. The monster… my husband… he was pissing himself in fear!
I wrapped my fingers around his neck and asphyxiated him; it was so shocking to see his thick neck sinking under my fingers. My arm, though, was a swollen muscular beast. Parts of my body were becoming just as big, hard, and heavy as his. I was literally becoming bigger than him, and in terms of strength I had actually long surpassed him.
With my other hand, I grabbed his cock. The meaty surface of that cum—and piss—cannon now easily bent and caved under my fingers. I crushed the cock until the flow of the piss was heavily blocked. The monster wheeled and whined in pain, and I added to his misery by… *BOOM!!* Kneeling him on the fucking balls!
The monster collapsed. *Blaam!* The ground caved under his knees, and frightening cracks grew around his legs as he kneeled before me. “Aww!” I told him, venom dripping from my tongue, and with my hand I almost crushed his mighty throat, making him struggle for air. “What? My mighty stallion ain’t strong enough for a human bitch?”
He looked at me with ire. I could see what was about to come as he pulled his fist back. His muscles were trembling with pent-up rage, but at this point I knew they couldn’t enact his rage with nearly enough force as they desired. The monster threw a punch in the middle of my belly, and the resulting shockwave created cracks on the stone even a hundred miles away from us; my back hit the canyon again, adding a few inches to its cracked, wrecked surface, but overall my body remained sturdy, and the babies in my belly danced yet more vivaciously, finding those blows all too amusing. “You see?” I walked back to my giant, whose jaw was falling lower and lower. I grabbed him by the throat and cock again, leaning to him until my mouth was almost moistening his lips. Rubbing my belly on his abs, I massaged his body with the kicks and blows of my babies. “It tickles. They love it.”
As the monster pulled his fist back again, roaring and puffing steam, I decided I was having none of it anymore: I crushed his neck and prick, now with the intention to hurt, and the monster let out a sound he never ever thought possible; as he opened his mouth, a high-pitch scream of pain burst through it. “Aaaahh!!” His eyes were watering, yet it was hard to see his tears amidst all the redness of his bloodshot irises.
My hands did a monstrous torture on his neck and prick: my fingers crushed his skin as easily as if it was made of soft silicon. His muscular frame and dense constitution wasn’t any different from before, mind you; in fact, all those months of strenuous exercises had only made him harder, hotter, and bigger, probably twice as strong as when I met him. When my fingers sank on his skin, they bent his muscle fibers like iron. I could feel all their strength and consistency, tasting a man who was indeed much more powerful that he’d ever been, yet…
I was more powerful. By a fucking mile! My right hand crushed his penis so much that his pissing was completely interrupted, and the lower half of his penis—that closer to his crotch—began to swell and bloat with all the incontinent blasts piling up inside them.
I crushed that penis until I heard something like bones cracking. My left hand began to literally pull his Adam’s apple into his throat. The monster wailed, then punched the sides of my body, trying desperately to release himself from my grip.
My body was pushed and pulled from its place, sometimes hitting the walls behind it, but I remained sturdy, and whatever attempt the giant made to recover was easily beaten by my stronger, mightier grip. “What?” I pulled his cock. “Do you want me to rip your cock out?” The monster wailed. His asphyxiation was such, however, that only broken whimpers left his throat. I pulled his cock so hard I felt his balls shrinking and throbbing in desperation. His whole crotch began to stretch, pulled by my hands on his iron rod. “It’s not like it’s gonna make any difference!”
“Oor!!” With a loud crush in his neck, I pushed that man back, laying him on the ground and exposing his ripped abs to the skies. Raising my right foot, I flexed my horse-sized legs, then blew a massive kick on the man’s face, pinning him to the ground and creating a huge crater around his skull. Steam burst through my nostrils. My muscles were swelling and getting more ripped, with veins sprawling over me like snakes. The power never stopped rising, with my weight getting so extreme that the ground cracked continuously under my other foot.
I raised my right foot again and flexed my thighs to their maximum. *Boom!!* That muscular monster bloated and throbbed, with every freaking fiber visible to the naked eye. I lowered my foot on the monster’s face again, sinking his head deeper on the stone. I raised my foot and lowered it one more time. I did it again. And again. And again. Vast sections of the canyon began to unravel. The cracks spread through the earth like new canyons, and the body of my man descended on the earth deeper and deeper and deeper, sinking many inches (eventually feet) as I kicked him hard and fast.
The speed and power of my horse kicks were otherworldly. At times, all I saw of my huge leg was a blur, and once I was done torturing that man’s beautiful face… *booom!!* I threw in him such a mighty, merciless kick that the crater around us grew many hundreds of feet in diameter, with millions upon millions of tons of the big canyon collapsing under the earthquake of my blows. When I was done with his face, the man was a bloody, bruised, battered mess—yet still his beauty remained intact under all the blood, his sturdy skull proving it was made of a supremely strong material.
Pulling his cock even harder, I took my foot from his face, pulled my leg back and… kicked his right testicle. *Boom!!!* The pain! Oh, dear, the pain that stud felt…! He could barely vocalize it! His eyes almost popped out, and his muscles, instead of hardening as they usually did, shivered and spasmed like they were going to snap and unravel at any moment. The cracks grew under and around him, with the monster shivering and jumping so hard he was almost a living, breathing driller, but I kept him in place by crushing his body and pulling his cock harder, as well as devouring his ostrich-sized testicles with my touch and gaze.
I put my right foot over his right testicle, then crushed him. My stud began to cry. “Please!!” The tears left him in a mess. He was snorting and puking, my milk coming out through his nostrils and his mouth. “Stop!! Please, stop!!” He tried getting up, but with a single punch I threw him back into his place: *booom!!* After my fist met his face, his back cracked the ground again, and his right-cheek was left with a fist-sized bloated bruise. I crushed his ball harder, turning it into an oblong mess of veins under my foot, all while twisting and pulling his pecker to a tearing point.
His huge testicles bloated, and I knew—by their deep sounds—that they were producing cum again. “What? You aroused by mommy’s power?” I raised my right arm, flaunting its virile hardness and strength. “You want to cum for mommy, huh?” I twisted and jerked his prick, making its lower half almost explode with all the fluids inside it. “Or do you want your mistress to rip your cock out, and turn your balls into pudding with her feet?”
He wailed. He cried. He tried to attack me again. *Boom!!* Cracks formed under his right testicle as I crushed it to a bursting point. The once-invincible, unbendable egg was now being grossly distorted under my feet—a task that, no matter my power, still required every ounce of strength in my overblown physique.
My body shone with sweat and might as steam burst through my every pore. Veins were growing atop of veins, and my height increased gradually as new layers of muscle were added everywhere in my god-like physique. Relieving that ball for a while, I threw one massive kick on his left testicle once more. The resulting shockwave made even the clouds move away. The monster puked milk into the air, in a fountain blast that reached many dozens of feet into the air, and I showed him even less mercy by alternating kicks and crushes on his testicles, now destroying the entire continent around us.
Our bodies sank deeper… and deeper… and deeper as four minutes went by with uninterrupted kicks and blasts on his testicles. By the time I was done, his balls were actually bigger—not so much because of the cum, but mostly because of the hideous bruises I had left in them.
My man was squirming and panting. His face wore an expression of perpetual almost existential horror: how…?! How could a mere human like me…?! Do things like that to him? Him?! An almost-literal god of sex!
I release his prick. The piss exploded in a volcanic blast. “Eww!” Even though I moved away quickly, the blast was so powerful that it sprinkled all over my body. My disgust, however, was short-lived: the piss of that stallion was just as strong and powerful as I expected it to be from a creature so perfect; though not arousing, it was certainly impressive to witness the density and sheer volume of that bladder sauce. Mules and donkeys were always known for pissing ludicrous amounts of liquid, and so dense and strong that their smell could be felt from afar, and that stud was no different: his piss was so fucking hard and heavy and dense it was almost a gel! I saw the deep crater being quickly filled with his piss. “Come on, honey.” I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out the hole, letting him fill it with his millions of gallons of mule piss. “That’s not my kink. Piss all you want in this crater and let’s finish fucking somewhere else clean.”
This is the quickest and most reliable of making a one-time contribution to my pornographic empire. If you’re a fan, oh, don’t hesitate in barging in with a contribution or two. 😀 ❤ ❤
I’m working on my first novel ever!It’s super exciting! Ever since I was axed by Amazon, well, I turned my writing efforts 100% to my long-slumbering project, and all is coming together nicely!
If you ask me, the biggest, biggest, BIGGEST contribution y’all can make is to wait… and wait a bit more… and then, when my novel is released… BOOM! Y’all buy it and make me a very happy woman, okay? 😀 😀 It’s also kind of a very good book (spoken so modestly from yours truly), so I’m pretty darn sure that y’all those who buy it will enjoy it BIG TIME!
Keep this note in mind for when the time is ripe, my darlings. 😉
It is really half-baked, to be honest, and there’s actually no special rewards for you or anything fancy so far, so… well, we’ll see. I’ll be working in the following weeks (months?) to see how the page develops. For the time being, if you want to contribute with anything, oh, well, be my guest! ❤
That’s it for the week, my luvs. I hope you loved this book and be back next week for Chapter 3 of the Seedmaker series: “‘Til the Last Drop!”
La bite française était l’un des meilleurs que je n’aie jamais eus ! Je n’ai fréquenté que deux Français de toute ma vie – les deux gars, au fait – mais l’un d’eux avait la MEILLEURE BITE EUROPÉENNE de ma vie ! À l’époque, je ne savais pas honnêtement que vous, les Euro-Caucasiens, pouviez avoir des dotations aussi belles, viriles et massives que cette magnifique qui m’avait baisé, mais vous m’avez certainement appris un sacré – euh, disons – interculturel leçon !
Grâce à cette expérience, j’imagine encore aujourd’hui que les Français sont, comme les chevaux pendus de l’Europe. Je n’ai pas pensé aux Françaises, alors j’aimerais bien en essayer une un jour.
C’est un travail humble et simple, réalisé avec le meilleur de mes ressources, mais je m’engage à continuer de vous fournir les meilleures versions possibles en temps opportun ! J’espère que je pourrai continuer à grandir et à vous fournir non seulement mieux, mais aussi plus d’œuvres de charbon scandaleux et de sensualité brûlante ! Voici encore des centaines de livres pornographiques dans le futur ! Maintenant, mes chéris, revenons à jouir!
From her spread out legs came a steamy squirt. The thread of nectar splashed on my legs and bathed them in woman cum. I smiled as I flexed my guns and showed her the sheer power and hardness of my biceps; a leathery, stretching sound came from them, like two thick belts being twisted to a ripping point. The labyrinth of veins and arteries that covered them could hardly be described; my guns swelled to enormous proportions while she could literally see, from the distance, the pints of blood being pumped in my arms, giving them the strength of a goddess.
“C-can you crush a boulder with those legs?” She asked me, her tongue dripping with desire. I looked down at her body and genuinely admired her. She was like a supermodel, if supermodels had boulder-crushing thighs and asses of a Brazilian goddess.
She was a blonde Barbie girl from a perfect American lineage, daughter of a massive, rich Alpha stud and a drop-dead supermodel, but she had also inherited an ass and legs able to rival my own.
“I bet you could.” I snapped back, and she replied by loudly flexing her own, fair-skinned legs. I could see the hundreds of fibers hardening and her Greek-column thighs swelling to obscene proportions. “Damn, girl!” I commented while also flexing my abs. “You’re a mare!” And she giggled, feeling the ground shake around us.
There was an earthquake going on in those hills while we showed each other our muscles. Per my friend, the stud of her farm was plowing relentlessly through his two hundred mares, fecundating them with his seed and guaranteeing new, healthy breeds of strong horses to her parents.
I doubted the validity of her claims, however, as I heard and felt the powerful rumbles and quakes of the land; the barn was still a mile away, yet I could feel the action as if it was happening right by my side.
Sometimes, the quakes and the booms were strong enough to steal our attention. Her body lightly moved on the ground whenever the stud seemed to be particularly active up there, though this could have also been explained by her sheer arousal for me.
As my blonde girl felt the energy rush through her legs, her incredibly swollen and hardened pussy expelled more thick juices of cum on my body. Every time she squirted, she did so loud and messily, with brothy juices squishing out of her cunt.
My abs burned, hit by that awesome juice. My lips drew the most beautiful of smiles as I looked down and saw my body dripping with her nectar, the sheer testament of a woman’s fertility coating my skin.
I flexed my six-pack and enraptured her gaze. Powerful veins sprawled through my neck as my six muscles throbbed and bulged obscenely, and then two new more muscles were added to the pack right above my pussy, the sheer power creating an aura around my body.
The two roared like animals, and there was a loud thud before the catacombs fell back into the most mortal of silences. Vanessa opened her eyes and felt them almost popping out of her skull. The pleasure was just too inordinate for her to even comprehend. She felt herself stretched to a splitting point and her womb moved to unnatural places inside that body.
Gaston wasn’t on a much better state either, roaring and wailing on the ground like a desperate beast, as if Vanessa’s grip on his cock had been a jaguar’s fangs to a poor prey’s neck.
In one swift motion, Vanessa had gone balls-deep in the man. Poor Gaston even felt inadequate as he saw that body suddenly making his entire cock vanish.
“Fuck you, woman!! Oorhh…!!”
Vanessa had to quickly retake control, lest she wanted her man to go mad. Shivering with cold as she descended from the mighty orgasm, feeling her cunt squirt juices all around the man’s mighty rod, she looked at him and said:
“Don’t cum. Do. Not. Cum.”
Both man and woman were going mad with all that was happening at once. Gaston felt his balls being showered by Vanessa’s nectar, which was squirted at high pressures from her cunt. Vanessa not only crammed that entire 24-incher inside her, but she also locked the beast in a tight grip with all her muscles. Hell, even her womb had closed on the beast’s watermelon-large head like one powerful hand-grip, crushing the entire muscular mast under every square inch of its surface.
Vanessa entered a long, orgasmic state that made her tits squirt milk. Gaston too was suffering tremendous, immense orgasms, though of a more agonizing kind –he, after all, could not unload.
Vanessa’s muscles rippled constantly and uniformly. Long and unbroken threads of milk burst from her tits, showering the sides of her man, hitting the many bodies that he had fucked to oblivion, but missing her man, who wailed and begged: “Vanessa!!” She heard his cries and, with her eyes still shut and her face still looking at the ceiling, turned her chest to him and showered him with one tits.
The man didn’t even open his mouth, as much as he tried to. As the creamy milk hosed his face, he was still experiencing a discharge of orgasmic power. «Fuck…! Fuck this woman!!» He cursed his lover as she made him suffer like no women ever came close to. “Oh, fuck, you potent mare!”
But Vanessa wasn’t even working him yet. In her body, she felt that world-of-a-cock conquering every organ and viscera in her, pushing against her insides as it throbbed mightily and beamed with masculine power. She felt, due to the change of pressure and heat at the base of the cock, a new, massive load of jizz climbing up the beast. She turned her angry eyes to Gaston and barked: “no. Cumming.”
And Gaston roared. Oh, the poor thing roared and beat his head against the bodies he used pillows as he shut the influx of spunk inside his mighty rod. Vanessa felt all the jizz he had previously let ooze to the tip of his cock now in her womb; a blob of cum so large that, as she sat on the cock, the liquid had covered her entire pussy and burst through her labia, coating the man’s balls on their own seed.
And what balls he had! Vanessa was sitting on them, feeling all the jizz that flowed monstrously inside them. She felt another wave of multiple orgasms rush through her body, making her smile so beautifully and squirt more milk through her tits. Her orgasms were both powerful, but controlled; it was not that the orgasms had grown weaker, but that her self-control had grown so much greater.
She’d promised herself she would not stop for anything, however, and stop she didn’t: her body rose and fell on the man’s balls, pumping that miles-long rod with all her mighty as she literally heard the milk sloshing inside the man’s seed-makers, heavy enough to make his legs slowly spread apart as his sack reached the size of two bowling balls. “My poor, little bull!” She pitied him while pumping him in a delirious kind of frenzy. She was torturing that stud and loving every second of it.
She felt that dick increase in girth and power all the time, yet still she felt completely in charge of him, like she was finally a woman who discovered her proper dominance of her man. She tamed that bull like the most experienced of cowgirls, and as she opened her eyes and saw his desperate, quivering face moving from side to side and his head repeatedly hitting the ground, she realized her victory was not a too far-off dream.
She kept pumping. And pumping. And pumping some more! She pumped until splashes of sweat and lube were falling all around her, sprinkling on the man’s enormous muscles and turning into steam upon contact with them, and her breasts were hosing milk at a maddening pace, her huge gazongas throbbing and producing gallons of that sweet juice, which was shot far beyond the guy’s body, painting the bodies of the dozens of other passed-out women white.
“Fuck!!” She roared, her eyes burning with power. “Fuuuuuck…!!!” She pumped that dick with her whole body three times a second, crushing the man’s balls each time and feeling the dick gain outrageous girth with all the veins that multiplied on it.
At one point, her monster begged: “fuck you, woman!! I’m gonna blow!!”
“No, you’re not!” She quipped back immediately, pumping him mercilessly. “I’m gonna pump you for as long as I wish and you will not; I repeat: not gonna cum!!” She licked her lips. “You only cum when I say so, which is not now! Do you hear me? NOT NOW!” And she pumped him mercilessly
The walls of the catacombs quaked again as her body deliriously pumped that monstrous dick, making the man’s whole body swell as the pent-up energy grew to insane degrees in his sack. Rising and falling with ludicrous power, the Amazon wondered whether she wasn’t awakening something dark and dangerous inside that man’s body. «He’s growing!» She realized, trying to focus her blurred, dizzy sight at him and seeing every muscle of his bigger, heavier, and his whole stature much more imposing that his already terrifying self.
As her pumping motions made louds booms every time she sat on his balls, the woman tried to gauge his height and realized that the man was at least five inches taller than his old self. «He’s about 8’8-feet now!» And her heart throbbed, realizing that he was taller and mightier than even the heaviest of gorillas!
She saw his muscles throbbing and rumbling every time as she pumped his dick, like she was an air pump making her man grow more and more swollen. She felt power and fire on the man’s veins, the blood literally making his skin shiver with the speed of its flow.
She did so for ten minutes: pumping! Ravishing that cock with her full body, making the man quiver on the ground until he was periodically screaming for mercy: “fucking whore, you cunt!! Stop it! I’m gonna blow!”
Yet she confidently admonished him every time: “no, you’re not, my bull. You’re way stronger than that!” The dick had grown to about eight inches of width –two inches of which were pure veins and blood. “Fuck, you’re so built! You’re hot like a volcano! Fuck! I wish I could see your balls now!” She licked her lips, delaying her gratification too for as long as possible so that the pleasure of her eventual release would be unbeatable. “They must be so swollen and heavy!” Her ass, smacking the man’s balls, let her know that she may have been underestimating it all. «Fuck!» She always tried to hide her fears as she though. «Fuck, this bull is big! It’s like I’m sitting on a bag of cement! Seriously, though, how big are his balls?»
The little girl then started to violently, uncontrollably hit her with mighty blows, throwing her head, her legs, even her ass against her muscles, screaming like an animal as she fought like three huge bodybuilders. Her strength was such that Vanessa couldn’t could her up for too long; she was just too unprepared by that surge of power to quickly adapt to it.
“Fuck me!” She dropped that woman, who quickly lept to her left and landed about ten feet away from her. As Vanessa and the other girls looked at her, it was almost as if that girl had transformed into a different beast.
“Well, would you look at that.” Gaston mightily played with his cock, making his balls slowly rise and sink on the ocean of spunk he had come after all those hours of orgy. “You awakened her Devil’s Cunt.”
Vanessa held on to the question while she first saw that massive body in front of her: the girl had not only increased in size, but her body seemed harder and more powerful than ever. She was almost looking at a being a pure muscle (if not for her fatter tits and ass).
The ripped woman was covered with thick, throbbing veins from her toes to her forehead, and steam came through every pore of her as she puffed smoke and looked at Vanessa with her gritted teeth and her eyes shining with a bloody red.
Vanessa stepped back, her heart trembling in fear. She was facing a wild animal; an over-muscular, super-aroused wild animal.
“The fuck is a Devil’s Cunt??” She finally asked, and Gaston calmly answered:
“It’s sort of like an inner goddess of a woman. Well, not exactly a goddess, but a devil.” He looked at that mighty beast, who was grunting as she breathed, still cumming milk through her tits and squirts through her cunt, powerfully and mightily feeling a discharge of a hundred electric power grids in her nerves. “You see that she’s still orgasming? You’ve struck all the right nerves in her. When a woman has their pleasure center sufficiently stimulated, she can turn into a beast mode like you see now.” Gaston smiled proudly at her. “I’ve never seen anyone do it except for me. You’re amazing, Vanessa!”
“T-thanks… I guess.”
The massive, muscle-ridden beast gave a little wince forward, making Vanessa vacillate by stepping back again. If not for Gaston’s sudden raising of his arm, that situation could have ended on a blood bath.
“Watch out, Vanessa. She’s a beast now. Don’t have mercy on her.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The furious girl was expelling steam though every pore, her breath so powerful and hot Vanessa could even see some flames coming out of her nostrils and teeth.
“I mean that… you can go all-out.” He smiled. “Or else you’re just going to die.”
“No, Vanessa.” And he turned his gaze to that bloodthirsty animal. “Fuck her.”
When he lowered his arm, the creature lept to Vanessa. The giantess didn’t even see what happened as her body was violently thrust against a wall and her muscles were massacred by the sheer force of the impact. *craaarsh!!* The other girls saw cracks grow all over the wall and up to the ceiling as Vanessa was crushed against the stone, repeatedly beaten by that bestial, muscle cunt. “Rooooaarr!!!” The powerful little woman, who was so much smaller than Vanessa, squeezed the giantess by the waist and effortlessly lifted her up. The wall cracked and turned to dust as the beast kept crushing and pushing Vanessa’s body against it. The giantess felt her insides being squeezed out of her like toothpaste; her organs almost popping like ballons as the smaller beast held her with just one arm and… sank her fingers on her cunt!