Major League Skullball (legend)
- See also: Major League Skullball
The following is a legend. A legend details a series of events we believe have happened or will happen in at least one timeline, perhaps even our own, but does not necessarily reflect true or accurate events. It is presented more as a story than as an encyclopedic entry. This legend in particular was foreseen from Your perspective and to show proper reverence it is told from first-person perspective. That is, a representation of You is narrating the legend with "I" statements.
This legend was originally recorded in August 2021, and may not reflect revelations discovered since then.
Note: This is mostly an automated conversion of a Google Doc. Several image references have been lost due to link rot and have yet to be replaced.
A bright blue sky lights up the deafening white noise of Springfield Skullball Stadium. Every seat has sold out for the opening game of the season, all hundred-thousand or so of them. Our team (Barbie Bruisers) is facing off against the champions of last season (Dusty Devils). A bit of a rough start, isn’t it? We aren’t favored to win at all, but our preseason training has been going pretty well...
Anyway, while the opening ceremonies rattle on, I guess I’ll introduce myself, yeah?
My name is Wendy, and I’m player #01 of the Barbie Bruisers! Most of the crowd hasn’t seen me play yet, but I’m the new starting pitcher for this season. At the moment my bright red hair is pulled up into a pair of twintails that stick out of holes in my white-and-pink cap. Yeah, “pigtails,” just like that Wendy. Might as well play up an image for the crowd, right?
Anyway, my team and I are all sitting out in our dugout right now. All fifteen Bruisers wear more or less the same uniform, of course. We all wear black cleats with pink accents, fastened tightly over thigh-high white socks with pink bands. Shoulder-length gloves of a matching white color stretch from our biceps to our hands, though they're fingerless. Over that we wear tight, rough leather black gloves that help improve our grip. Most of us wear white-and-pink caps matching the stockings & sleeves, but not all of us. The only other details are pink heart-shaped stickies over our nipples (or lipples). A few of us wear electrical tape over our pelvic area for modesty, but most don’t. Yeah, our chest, hips, ass, abs… it’s all on full display. Nice to have the breathing room, that’s for sure.
Most of us are busy chewing and popping ample amounts of pink bubble gum. At this point it’s practically part of our pink “Barbie” image.
It’s an away game for us, so I’m not really used to the layout here. Not even sure if it’s normally this hot out, or if today’s just exceptionally toasty… With a muted groan, I uncross my legs and spread out. Not lady-like at all I guess but it’s just so hot—and we haven’t even started yet!
As my thighs spread, several feet of flaccid girlcock spring out from between my sweaty thighs—a portion of it hitting the cement floor with a heavy THWACK! With a little bit of a sigh, I pick up the load and sling it over my right shoulder. Yeah, it’s somewhere about 3 or 4 feet flaccid… I’m also the only dickgirl on my team, so I can’t help but feel a little bit awkward about it. I don’t want to look to my left or right, because I know my entire team just heard that loud noise. I can feel the sweat building on my brow.
A warm touch comes to my right hand. I can’t help but glance over, only to be met with the warm and knowing smile of Brittani. Actually, all my team members seem to be looking over with inviting eyes and gentle smiles. Before I realize it, Brittani has woven her fingers in with my own, and pressed our sweaty palms together. I can’t help but give a smile back, and she nods knowingly. “It’s about time we started warming up, isn’t it? Here, let me help out…”
She leans in to plant an adoring smooch directly on my lips, before beginning to kiss down over my exposed chest—all while keeping my hand snugly interwoven with hers. Long, firm, drooling, utterly lewd licks drag along my flaccid length. I can’t help but shudder out a groan, my head rolling back. My thighs spread out a bit more, giving room as she moves to squat down on the cement between my legs. Just the feel of her tongue is so refreshing it feels supernatural.
Soon Dew joins in with frantic, excited puppy licks along another part of my shaft, then Jena, and soon most of the 15-man team is piled in front of me going at it with slutty slurping tongues and giggly smiles as they beam up at me with appreciation and adoration. It suddenly hits me just how much they’re all expecting me to carry this game. I am the pitcher after all, and the opposing team will be hitting first…
A shuddered gasp escapes my lips, and I feel my limbs involuntarily tighten and flex. The feel of so many slurping tongues and smooching lips would be heavenly on its own, let alone with all the warmth and affirmation imbued in each one from my teammates. Mnn. Of course, this isn’t entirely new. I have to get erect before pitching, after all. Doing this before a real game is particularly exciting nonetheless.
As so many girls go at it, I slowly begin to feel light-headed. It’s only natural, with so much blood displacing into my dick… Still, this natural high just makes it all the more pleasurable. Slowly and steadily my phallic immensity begins to grow and stiffen, smothered between all their moan-slurping smooches.
But as my eyes wander over to the dugout of the opposing team, that’s what really gets me going. God. From here every single one of those bitches looks like she’s at least seven feet tall. They’re all so insanely buff that I would’ve sworn they must be ‘roided out if they weren’t all so incredibly gorgeous! Sculpted abs, skull-crushing thighs, explosive biceps and more—all under skin so smooth and soft it looks almost surreal. Even their chests are like plush, syrupy watermelons… yet are so perky and bouncy they look like dumplings. Their stickies are black and star-shaped, color-matching the black electrical tape sealed over their cunts.
Oh and I haven’t even gotten to their uniforms! Our team colors are white and pink, but theirs are black and purple from the looks of it. Our socks and gloves are cotton-based but theirs are so slick they almost seem like rubber. I’m jealous of those shoes—huge, solid, platformed boots covered in spikes. Even their gloves’ knuckles are covered in spikes; is that allowed? Each of their caps has a pair of huge, demonic horns jutting almost straight up out of them—so solid-looking one almost wonders if those are really just attached to the caps. Between those horns and the little black demon-wings on their backs. They are going all out on that ‘Devil’ aesthetic. I’m starting to wonder if they even have demon fangs—wish I could see from here.
Mnnph. Thinking about them all and what’s about to come, on top of all the ongoing worship from my team—it’s too much. Four or maybe five feet of thick, throbbing girlcock is bursting from my pelvis. All of the Barbie Bruisers are working it at once but even now they can’t cover all of it.
I stand up, signaling it’s almost time to go, but the team has gotten so into it they don’t let up at all. If anything, it springs them even more into action: Saria moves to slobber my basketball-sized nuts in wet open-mouthed smooches, while Cadance sneaks around to plant a deep purple kiss directly on my still-sweaty anus.
Soon all the sweat packed between my thighs has been slurped away, replaced with dribbling drops of drool from deep in their throats. My knees are buckling, palms sweaty, as I gasp sharply through my teeth—all while staring at the opposing team like a lust-crazed madwoman. I think the announcer is trying to play it up as a seething competitive spirit? It’s hard to hear, but I’m pretty sure I’m foaming at the mouth by now…
Throughout it all I can feel so much bubbly pink warmth practically gushing from all my teammates into me. I guess it’s just appreciation and adoration, but it’s so overwhelmingly intense and cumulative I swear I can feel it as a physical force in of itself—one welling up within my cock and spreading throughout my entire body. It feels like so much cuddling and hand-holding, combined with high-fives and compliments, all frothing up in a blissful fountain inside me.
Soon a steady stream of precum is dribbling out of my inch-wide slit, spilling across the voracious visages of several teammates—sucked away into eager, squealing lips. My shaft is throbbing so hard I’m sure they can feel my cockflesh literally hitting their faces again and again, even as those faces squeeze and clamp down on all sides of my shaft so hard.
Of course, I can’t cum yet. My pitching is at its peak when I’m pent up—something all my teammates clearly know all too well. I can barely even see straight, let alone think straight…! I’m trying to tell myself I’m a pro, that I can take this, but goddamn if holding it in right now is the most challenging it’s ever been.
Finally, finally, they all let up all at once—if only because the game is now waiting on us. Yeah, I think it will always be mindblowing to have hundreds of thousands of people eagerly watching you get blown by fourteen of your friends—all gorgeous athletes—live.
The first to load up is Sorya. She plants a firm violet smooch directly around the opening to my urethra while beaming up into my eyes (with literally glowing eyes in her case!). I feel her tongue wildly flick and french the inside of my shaft as her lips and cheeks suck incredibly hard. With a hiss and a whirr, her decapitated body flops off harmlessly, leaving her disembodied head sucked-hard in place on my tip.
As you probably know, this is one of the eponymous “Skullballs.” Don’t worry too much, the (usually) temporary decapitation doesn’t hurt too much.
I give a flex to my hips and inner thighs, and with a loud SHWOMP! Sorya’s skull is sucked directly into my urethra. The bulge of her head visibly travels down my shaft with an audible GULP! before finally plopping into my already-huge balls with a muffled SPLOOSH!
A sharp sigh of relief and pleasure escapes my lips while my eyes flutter back in raw, bestial pleasure—one more distinct from arousal, maybe more like eating a good meal or getting a good pump at the gym. The purple imprint of Sorya’s lips still lingers on my tip even as her decapitated body lays in the dirt at my feet.
Anyway, Sorya is far from the last. She’s soon joined by four more, each rapidly suck-slurping into place on my tip before decapitating herself and diving down my shaft into my balls. Mnnf. Sorya, Cadance, Brittani, Jena, Saria, and Miku. Just like we practiced. By the time they’re all done I have six hues of kiss marks planted on my cocktip: violet, magenta, black, green, yellow, and cyan. Just for good measure I pull my cocktip towards my own mouth (it’s a bit of a struggle) and plant a red kiss mark of my own after all theirs, sealing them in with camaraderie. I step over the six decapitated bodies—temporarily lifeless—laid in the dirt and cement at my feet.
Fully equipped, my cleats kick up dust as I stride towards the pitchers mound. Five more Barbie Bruisers fill up the other positions on the field, each sprouting means of flight to cover the field. Ryuko on first base sprouts jet-powered mechanical wings using her kamui (outfit). Doxie on second base dons a petite but powerful white-colored jetpack that spews pink fire. Azzi on shortstop of course has her signature mecha wingsuit. Dew on third base sprouts fluffy white wings reminiscent of an angel. Plum guards home base using a teleporter-collar.
My stupidly huge girlcock is still throbbing a large distance in front of me—reaching so far my arms don’t even reach halfway to the tip—while endlessly dribbling prespunk in the form of cloudy white syrup. My balls were already huge and heavy, but they’re bulged out and weighed down even more now with six Skullballs. The ahegaoing faces of my six teammates are visible against the surface of my scrotum, my sweat-and-drool-slicked flesh highlighting the contours of their faces I feel so intimately underneath. Their skulls are bathing in my hot prespunk of course, getting ready for their upcoming role.
Oh, yeah, unlike baseball we don’t have outfielders. There is a special field position only Skullball has, though. Spectra, our 13th and final teammate, is taking up that slot. Because she’s usually transparent and mostly intangible, it can be easy for some onlookers to forget her—but her role is very important!
Spectra’s plush pillowy ectoplasmic lips are even now throating my titanic length all the way from the tip to the base and back again, indefinitely, all in an effort to keep me dribbling prespunk at full mast throughout the inning. Her ghostly talents are invaluable. After all, what living person could take such a massive fuckrod all by herself—let alone do so without getting in my way~?
Of course, she’s already added her snow-white kiss mark to the seven colors already stacked on my cocktip, all encircling my urethra.
Finally, the opposing team is setting up their first hitter. The symbolic first pitch is almost upon us. The struggle between our teams might last for hours, and the tone is all set with this… You can feel the crowd’s dull roar quiet into a murmur as asses move to the edge of their seats.
Top of the First
First Hitter
As you surely know by now, I have a somewhat unique method of pitching that relies on my somewhat unique assets. Yeah, most other pitchers rely on their arm to hurl balls. Judging from the opposition’s biceps they are hella good at that, too.
Taking a deep breath, I raise up my arms high—feeling the open, warm breeze flow across my armpits—and give the customary opening greeting to the crowd. Raised middle fingers flick off them all as I smile widely and slowly spin in a full circle, cutting the air with my Spectra-sucked schlong.
Finally, I turn towards home base, delivering a double-fisted bird towards the first hitter as she approaches home. Behind her, Plum is already squatted down in position, giving me a sly and knowing smirk across those bold green lips of hers.
The first hitter is another pale redhead—just like me—named Brianna, I think? I can’t help but feel like she’s some kind of inversion or counterpart to me, looking like that—even with emerald eyes and brightly colored lips, just like mine. That might be where the similarities end, though. Just like everyone on her team she towers over us with an amazoness physique, made all the more apparent when compared to Plum behind her. It’s exceptionally rare I see anyone with mountains of plush pale pudding chest that can even begin to rival Plum’s, but… somehow this bitch is even bustier, as is the rest of her team from the looks of it.
Of course, she has the purple-and-black lewd uniform, plus the obsidian horns and ballcap just like the rest of her team. Mnf. Plus there’s that sweat just oozing down her snow-white stone-wall of abs… Fuck… With Spectra throat-screaming me so hard it’s incredibly difficult not to get distracted just staring at this Brianna chick.
Anyway, she answers my double-bird with a flirtatious wink and smirk, pretending to blow me a kiss. A moment later she enters a more aggressive and wide stance, her thunderous thighs digging her spiked boots firmly into the dirt. After all, the goal here isn’t to hit the Skullball—just to stop it. Hitting it can be advantageous but it’s such a tricky feat that most teams focus on catching it instead.
With a sigh, I spit out my bubble gum onto the side of the pitcher’s mound. My hips lower and pull back, moving into a position prepared to thrust. The air is so dense with tension it begins to blur. The crowd is almost dead silent. It’s so quiet the endless SLRRPING of Spectra on my girldick is plainly audible.
A cloud of white energy begins to flow out from mt body as I concentrate all my energy and power into my loins. One of the faces pressing into my scrotum vanishes as she’s pulled up and loaded into the base of my cannoncock.
I take a deep breath, concentrating all my energy one last time as the skull is squished inside my pelvis and my hips pull back comically far. My battle cry roars out “FUCK—” and my hips launch forward at superhuman speed “—YOU!!!”
My explosive thrust forward hits straight into Spectra’s pale lips as she slams down, but the thunderous force of the bulge traveling from my pelvis though my cock is so immense that Spectra’s ghostly form is (momentarily) blasted apart completely. A millisecond feels like it lasts for a minute as I feel Sorya’s tongue drag through my urethra as her slutskull accelerates faster and faster until finally it bursts from my cocktip with a thunderous BOOM! It’s so tremendous my cleats skid back through the dirt.
Sorya’s skull screams (literally) through the air at several hundred miles per hour. Brianna barely has a moment to be shocked before the purple crown of Sorya SLAMS straight into her ribcage. A split-second later Sorya’s bloody skull has punched all the way through, leaving a dozen shattered ribs behind her as she carries Brianna’s still-beating heart in her teeth.
A split-second after that, Sorya SLAMS nose-first into a cement wall several feet thick with a guttural CRACK!! Plum pipes out, “Strike one! Slut slaughtered!!” The crowd fucking explodes. It’s deafening.
With wide eyes, Brianna pathetically collapses into the dirt—with Sorya’s skull plopping out of the cement wall a moment later. It becomes apparent part of what launched Sorya so insanely hard: a single, fist-sized sperm cell wiggles from out of the slut’s crushed skull and squirms over to burrow into Brianna’s cunt as she lays face-first in the dirt, popping through the duct tape over her loins as if it wasn’t even there.
“Full impregnation! Three points!” Plum squeals out, almost orgasmic already. That’s one point for striking the wall, one point for delivering a lethal blow, and one point for a guaranteed impregnation. Even now, the jumbotrons around the stadium show a cross-section of Brianna’s womb—as my sperm effortlessly wiggles through her delicate cervix and bathes in a literal ocean of ova foaming from her ovaries. All the while, the now-heartless Brianna is laying face-down in the dirt as hundreds of thousands cheer me for murdering her.
A few attendants swoop in to drag the body parts away as a fresh cement wall slides into place after Sorya’s skull ruined the one in place. As always, the body parts will be repurposed.
Of course, Plum couldn’t be expected to catch that. She’s not a baseball catcher, she just guards home in skullball. Even after seeing me pitch so many times, her green lips drop agape in shock and awe along with half the stadium.
I give a quick glance to first and third, finding the awe and appreciation behind the grin of Ryuoko and the excited puppy-panting and tail-wags of Dew. Spectra reforms just in time to SLAM her ectoplasmic throat all the way down my length again in utter praise. I can feel the remaining five slutskulls mix about gleefully within my balls.
Second Hitter
Grinning towards the opposing team, I spit on the ground as if to mock them. There’s a bit of commotion in the enemy dugout before they send the second slut to be sacrificed. “You can do it, Francine. With a cannon that big and clumsy that bitch only has fastballs anyway.”
Francine, huh? Even among the busty amazons on the Devil team, she’s a head above them all—maybe eight feet or more. I can barely even believe a person like this is real...
Her heels lock into position over home base as she takes on an imposing stance, towering to nearly double the height of Plum behind her. Spikes in her boots visibly dig into the ground for even greater leverage, and her hands are held closer over her chest—ready to take my shot.
A fastball would be more than enough for her anyway, but I wasn’t planning to make this inning that boring. I take in another deep breath as Spectra whirrs away. My mind thinks of Sorya’s sacrifice, and how much she loves me, as the second skullball pulls from my scrotum and locks into place.
My innards grip her head tight, feeling her features inside my pelvis—features I recognize as belonging to Saria, exactly who I was reaching for. Her ears and hairstyle are perfect for the shot I’m preparing. Inside of me, her ahegaoing skull begins to rotate forward, flipping forward like a wheel—and steadily accelerating faster and faster. The four skulls still in my balls proper begin to rotate as well, albeit slower, almost like interlocking gears in a machine. Soon a steady WHIRR begins to emit from my crotch as they all spin wildly, faces—noses, lips, tongues, and eyes—grinding hard into my insides.
Hearing the noise, Francine’s stance shifts as she tries to prepare for what’s coming—but it isn’t going to be enough and the fear on her face makes that obvious.
Finally, I leap high into the air and perform a dramatic backflip—twintails and cleats slicing through the air. Right before I land Spectra delivers her final SLAM all the way down, smashing her face into my crotch, right as my cockcannon BLASTS forth spermfist-mounted-Saria-skull at a low angle with a wild frontspin.
Both feet land solidly on the pitcher’s mound as I see the Saria-wheel fly low, almost looking like it will shoot between Francine’s legs to hit the back wall. She closes them together at the least moment, but that’s exactly what I hoped she would do.
Saria’s nose SMASHES down into the dirt, and the wheel-like spin drives her forward into Francine’s ankles, then drives straight up her legs to SLAM directly into her pelvis. Maybe a critical hit to her cunt—hard to see from the pitcher’s mound. The hitter’s body freakishly contorts a split second before a gooey pink organ SMASHES up through her lips, shooting straight up. The announcer sounds like she’s climaxing as she screams, ‘It’s her womb! It’s her womb! Two hits in and we have a full womb removal!!’
The disembodied womb hits the dirt behind Francine, a split second before the flipping Saria-wheel rolls with the last of its momentum to barely graze the back wall.
“Strike two!”
A dramatic shot on the jumbotron shows that Saria-skull managed to separate from my spermfist—or maybe my spermfist punched its way free—to impale Francine’s disembodied womb.
“Full impreg!”
Francine herself collapses back onto the dirt, her eyes wide in utter shock. Foam spews from her mouth as she ceases moving a moment later.
“Slut slaughtered!!” The scoreboard rolls over to 6-0 right on cue. Two hits in, and we still have a perfect score. Incredible, honestly.
I turn back to exchange glances with Doxie on second, whose face is alight with awe, gazing at me almost cartoonishly with bright pink hearts for eyes—seems like her.~ Shortstop Azzi gives me a more subdued smile and a thumbs-up, but it’s pretty obvious from the puddle between her feet that she’s just as excited.
Spectra reforms after the pitch to SLAM balls-deep into my crotch, summoning a slightly-surprised and sputtering groan from me as my hips rock back slightly in recoil. With a sigh of delighted pleasure, I turn back towards home—eyeing up the third victim as she works up to home base.
Third Hitter
It might seem a strange choice to set up this girl—only about 5 feet tall, seemingly the most petite on her team, after the largest. In practice, it’s actually a somewhat common tactic. By switching up a power-player for an agility-player, a team can try to mix up a pitcher’s rhythm or strategy. I’m keen on seeing how effective that actually is.
Despite her height, this cherry red haired hitter is just as thicc, busty, and swol as the rest. She has stickers and stickies of the same cherry red color as her hair, fittingly enough.
As she approaches the plate, Red takes on an unusual stance with her hands at her sides and standing to one side. I’m honestly a bit confused by the stance, because it almost looks more like she’s trying to dodge the ball rather than stop it.
I give a glance towards Plum, still squatting back there, who gives me a few quick hand symbols with green-nailed digits. Instantly, I get it. It’s strange because our team has never used this tactic but yes, she is trying to dodge the ball. After all, striking the wall only scores 1 point, as opposed to the 3 I’ve gotten off the last hitters. No matter how many points we get this inning will end after I launch six slutballs regardless. It’s a clever tactic… but I won’t give in to it.
I feel around inside my nuts, getting a feel for the remaining skullballs now that they’ve (finally) stopped spinning after the last pitch. Miku, Brittani, Cadance… and… Jena. That last one seems to have read my mind, as she pushes off my scrotum with a kiss to be sucked up into the center of my pelvis and loaded at the back of my shaft. Her plush skin and wide facial features are gonna be perfect for this shot.~ Mnff. I can feel her gorgeous white smile inside me, which just revs me up even more.
My glare locks onto Red’s gaze. Now that I know what she’s up to, it seems so obvious. Her twitchy fingers, her stern eyes—but she can’t leave the box around home, so I just have to aim for where she will move. I give Jena’s skull a few more pelvic squeezes before she begins to rev up and spin—but this time, spinning laterally like a top.
A misty white aura encircles me as I take another long, deep breath. I squat to one side, going so low my skull-stuffed scrotum grazes the mound for a moment. I leap with a dramatic 45°-angle spin with Spectra SLAMMING down mid-spin, launching Jena’s spinning shot in a wide curveball arc.
Red’s cleats clench the ground as she prepares to jump. Following her eyes it’s clear she expects a wide ball like that to come at her from the side, so she jumps back… but no, that wasn’t it. Not quite, anyway.
Jena’s scream-spinning skull travels in a wide arc to the side, completely going around the hitter’s box to hit the cement wall behind, then bounces off to keep going in its wide circular path.
“Strike three!”
But as Jena’s head spins away, the spin slows just enough that Red might have seen something entirely eerie: Jena’s eyes appeared completely whited over, and it almost looks like she had a dozen hard-boiled eggs in her mouth.
But, of course, all of those were just my spermfists—Jena’s eye sockets and mouth and even ears were all stuffed to the brim with giant sperm. They all sprung at the last possible moment, when Red’s defenses were expected to be at their lowest.
A shotgun-like thunderous BLAST of a dozen-or-more spemfists launch out of Jena’s skull. Her face was completely ripped apart by the violent exodus, leaving her torn-up skill flying away into the dirt from the sheer recoil. All those spermfists NAILED straight into Red’s face and torso, with one in particular launching directly from Jena’s lips into Red’s throat. The sheer force of the impact was so great it sent her light frame flying back off the ground.
By the time Red landed, spermfists had punched through her navel into her womb, through her eyes into her skull, through her lips into her stomach, and more—with some even blasting all the way through like bullets. The jumbotron shows several ramming straight into her womb, even railing through her fallopian tubes and slamming her ovaries directly.
“Full impreg!”
Red clings to life for a long suspenseful moment, until a spermfist burrow-punches its way straight into her heart, nestling inside of it. The sperm no doubt feels the warmth and massage of the organ as Red’s heartbeat—as shown on the jumbotron—slows and finally stops around it.
“Slut slaughtered!”
A wide grin spreads across my face. All those cowardly tactics from th Devil's and we still got all three points. A glance towards Plum and she’s showing me a heart-symbol with her hands, alongside a wink.
“Halfway to a perfect inning!” Dew excitedly shouts from third. Ryouko follows up by cupping her hands around her mouth and calling out to me, “Fuck ‘em dead!!”
No sooner does she say that, however, than Ryouko spies who’s coming up for the fourth hit. Reading her expression, I glance towards the hitter myself… Satsuki Kiryuin.
Fourth Hitter
Words don’t even need to be said. Every single one of the Bruisers knows exactly how Ryouko feels about Satsuki.
“This… This is like destiny,” Ryouko announces. There’s an earnest light behind her eyes as she stares into mine for a long moment.
With a grin and a firm nod, I beckon a hand towards my gargantuan five-foot pillar as Spectra slathers away on it ever so dutifully.
Beaming with a look of utter determination, Ryuoko sprints from first base towards me without a shred of doubt.
The announcer is blathering on about something or other, but it doesn’t matter. As long as we have twelve players in traditional roles and we only pitch six slutskulls in the inning, this strategy is well within the crazy rules of this game.
The slut skids to her knees at the base of the pitcher’s mound, which makes me practically tower over her. I lower my gargantuan slut-slayer’s tip towards her face. From this perspective, with her body utterly dwarfed and almost five feet away from me, I’m reminded just how utterly overpowered my Godcock truly is.
Ryouko’s moaning, groaning lips slather wantonly over the cockhead that exceeds the size of her entire head. After embellishing her appreciation of me just a bit longer, Ryuoko finally beams up at me with, “Yes, you are my little pogchamp! Now, c’mere!” Her lips seal tight around my urethra while her tongue flicks wildly inside, sucking so hard that her skull remains dangling there as her decapitated body falls down into the dirt.
With a SHWOMP, GULP, and SPLOOSH, Ryuko’s slutskull is sucked into my urethra and swallowed down my entire length to join her teammates bathing in prespunk inside my nuts. All that remains on my cocktip is a crimson kiss mark, stacked on top of the eight already planted there earlier this inning. Without further fanfare, I kick some dust towards Ryouko’s decapitated body as it lays in the dirt next to the pitcher’s mound, then turn back towards home.
The way things are going, we won’t need so many infielders, anyway.~
By now, Satsuki has already strode up to home plate. She activates her Kamui in a flash, having the skimpy white-and-blue armor overtake and intermix with the purple-and-black sleeves of her team’s uniform. She glares upon me with the thickest, tightest eyebrows I’ve seen all day. “MATOI!!”
A sudden rumble is faintly audible from my pelvis as “KIRYUIN!” To my surprise the Kamui on her decapitated body springs off and attaches around my ballsack instead, squeezing tight on all sides. I feel a sudden surge of power and vigor swell up inside me—is that me, or Ryuoko, or this magical sack-squeezer? Doesn’t matter—either way I’m going to destroy this bitch of a hitter, and show her what Ryouko and I can really do together.
Fourth Hitter, pt. 2
I can feel Ryouko’s fiery passion burning inside my pelvis—passion that comes out in me as vigorous lust. While the last three skullballs were pretty passive prior to pitching, Ryouki is going wild with lustful slurps tongue-fucking the inside of my balls and the deepest part of my shaft as her head shoves its way into place—practically forcing her slutskull to be loaded in place.
All of her fiery passion feels like it’s flooding into me, as if through my nerves and my blood, as some sort of physical force. It sharply reminds me of the warm-up earlier, where I felt all the pink bubbly adoration of my teammates welling up inside me… I’m starting to wonder if my teammates and I are able to form some kind of… psychic or physiological link, that goes beyond just empathy and friendship…
Maybe.
But for now Ryuoko’s surging up inside me so powerfully there’s no doubt this is going to be my mightiest pitch yet. As she burns inside me, I can feel her rival’s icy glare freezing my nutsack from the hitter’s box over home base. A wind is blasting out from Satsuki's Kamui in all directions, surrounding her in a clearly supernatural power as her primed muscles glisten in undersized fabric.
“Don’t worry, bitch,” I mutter, “The wait is over.”
My hips pull back as a red mist and wind swirl around me, centered on my cannoncock—no doubt the doing of Ryouko or her Kamui. My hips pull back. I can feel that Kamui squeezing and Ryouko scream-slathering and Spectra slurp-slamming all at once, all of them working together as the pressure and tension build and build and build.
Until… nnnf… I can barely hold it in anymore… The sky over the stadium is beginning to turn red. I swear it must be from the sheer power building up…
A sharp hiss of air splits my lungs just before Spectra slams, my hips launch, and I roar out. A deafening BOOM thunders through the stadium as I go skidding backward all the way off the pitcher’s mound, only stopping once my back cleet digs against the plump chest of Ryouko’s body.
Red smoke blasted from my tip just from the energy alone as Ryuko’s furiously screaming skull shot towards Satsuki like a bolt of red lightning. By some miracle, the bitch’s white gloves grasped hold of the skullball as it surged forward—but pushed her back so much that the hitter’s back was pressed to the wall.
A haughty smirk spreads across Kiryuin’s features. “Ask not the sparrow how the eagle soa—”
Ryouko abruptly vomits, a gigantic spermfist blasting out of her lips and directly into Satsuki’s, driving violently down her throat. She gasps and chokes hoarsely, “N-no! Impossible…!” She violently throws the Ryouko-skullball down into the dirt, so violently it bounces back up into the air.
Honestly I’m just surprised their team fell for basically the same trick twice.
Kiryuin is struggling to punch, chop, and stab the sperm as it rips through her body enroute to her ovaries. She looks towards the jumbotron with shock and awe, tears streaming down her pale face as she feels and witnesses my spermfist nestle securely into her womb.
“Full impreg!”
The woman’s sight goes blurry as she collapses towards the ground. Little did she even realize it, but all those self-inflicted blows trying to catch the sperm were so brutal they did her in…
“Slut slaughtered!”
And the very last thing Satsuki witnessed before losing consciousness was Ryouko’s skullball, using the last bit of her strength to use her tongue to push off the dirt and feebly roll into a grazing contact with the back wall.
“Strike four!”
Plum was so ecstatic she plucked Ryouko’s head right off the ground and planted a firm, green smooch straight on her lips—just before the sheer vigor of the whole ordeal caused Ryouki to pass out as well.
I’m beaming ear to ear. My eyes dart over to the scoreboard, seeing it roll over to 12-0. This is the stuff of legend, and judging by the crowd’s thunder every single one of them knows it too.
Fifth Hitter
There’s a minute or two of shenanigans before the fifth hitter steps up to the plate. Of course someone had to complain to the ref, who caved eventually. Long story short I had to remove one of my skullballs in storage since it gave an “unfair tactical advantage.”
Whatever. Brittani and Cadance are both still more than enough for the last two hitters. Even now I can feel their two skulls filling my two Kamui-equipped nuts, worshiping them from within as Spectra continues going to town—keeping me hard as a diamond throughout it all. This little break provided enough downtime to drag Ryouko’s body off the field, too.
Meanwhile, the one I was forced to eject—Hatsune Miku—has returned to our dugout for now, fully bodied. She does look awfully cute in that cheerleader uniform now, at least. It’s not just for show, either; even from the sidelines she can empower our team by arousing me even more. Surely that’s why she’s winking and blowing kisses at me every time I glance over to her. How cute.~
But I can’t stay distracted by Miku forever.
My eyes widen at the next slut striding up to the plate. This one’s famous… One of the best hitters of last season, and maybe the closest thing our league has to a house-hold name.
Only now did I realize what all those shenanigans were for. It wasn’t to deprive me of a skullball, it was to refit their two remaining hitters into more effective “uniforms”... or should I say armor? From the looks of it though, whatever the team did to amazonify themselves had the same effect on Samus. Her power armor from last season is so undersized in her body now it looks more like a bikini.
As she’s getting ready, I mull over my two remaining options—mixing up the skulls of Brittani and Cadance inside my balls. What kind of pitch would trick or overpower the Samus Aran? I’m ashamed to admit I’m a little bit starstruck. But already this inning was the stuff of legend, especially for my first real game… If there was anyone who could ever make Samus doubt herself, it might just be me—right here, right now.
The legendary warrior stepped up to her hitter cage, striding across home plate, her body practically aglow with the sheer power imbued in her body by the Chozo. Destroyer of planets, genocider of Metroids, ender of empires… and gorgeous, with every muscle primed to stop me—to stop us.
Brittani could feel her plush, meaty skull slide into position. This was going to be it. There wasn’t any pretense or any holding back now. It was time we showed the world our Charge Shot, and who better to be its first victim than its progenitor?
I threw a few hand symbols to those remaining on the bases. Doxie, Azzi, and Dew all closed in on the pitcher’s mound—knowing what was about to happen. We’ve practiced this, after all, though it’s a shame there were only three infielders to give support.
First, Doxie laid back-first upon the pitcher’s mound, holding her hands upward. Once she was in place I leaned over her and pressed our palms together—fingers interwoven—while gripping the dirt with my cleats. My colossal schlong PLAPPED down across her body and face—all of which was so pleasantly cool and plush to the touch like always, almost like living pudding. Using her perky kissy lips, she helped aim the shaft towards home while simultaneously giving it plenty of love.
With my body leaned so far forward like this, Dew took the dutiful position of making out with my raw asshole. After a long and sweaty inning, the excited laps of her puppy tongue were almost orgasmic—the light-headedness was kicking in harder than ever. Her wet puppy nose dug against my tailbone as she rammed her lips and tongue as hard into my ass as she could.
Finally, Azzi reached around my torso from behind. Her mechanical suit opened up to embrace me from behind, sealing back around my bouncing chest and pulling my own back into her fluffy wolfy chest. Her arms and legs all were snug around me, and her fluffy chin over my neck. In effect, her powered wingsuit had been equipped on me now. It already began emitting purple flames from her—from our—backside. The wings and jets’ primary purpose was to provide a counter-propulsion, to keep me from flying away from an immensely powerful shot… and yeah, this one was going to make even the last four seem like nothing.
The look on Samus’ face was already priceless. But this was only the beginning.
Shame on me for burying the lead, but part of the reason I managed to be so powerful this entire inning was due to my teammates all along. Sure, I become more aroused and vigorous thanks to them, but it’s more than just that. I was chosen as the new pitcher and lead of this team for many reasons, but above all of them was my compatibility with the existing twelve members.
Each of them had been for years practicing a form of power projection; of husking the chi, the soul, the spirit, the “divine energy” from their bodies and temporarily imbuing it into something else—or someone else.
Yeah, you guessed it. Into me. I just might be the only girldicked player that can take the full power of twelve souls all at once. This was the revolutionary strategy for the new season, and my cock was at the spearhead of it all.
Up until now, most of the team had been subtle with their projection, but now was the time if there would ever be one. Now was the time for our big play.
Doxie, Azzi, Dew, Plum, Sorya, Saria, Jena, Ryouko, Miku, Cadance, of course Spectra, and even Brittani inside me all simultaneously ripped the souls out of themselves and projected them onto me all at once. The entire crowd could see rainbows of colors rushing off their bodies (or body parts) into me.
All of their affection, all their courage, all their brilliance, all their strength, all their hope, all their happiness, all their love, all so much more SURGED inside of me—leaving all of their bodies like soul-husked zombies—living instead as my batteries. All these immensities of good feelings amplified each other more and more, driving me to insane heights of bliss and strength as they all hollowed out so completely just to give this to me.
On top of this, I felt layer upon layer of soul armor squeeze and embrace me as their projected soul-bodies overlapped with my real-body. It was almost like ghosts possessing a body, except in this case I remained (utterly) dominant and in control. Still, I could feel all of their presences overlapping with mine; our minds melding as their acceptance and heartfelt love weaved into my own thoughts.
I felt eleven more ghosts join Spectra as the entire team hyper-screamsucked five feet of Godcock with frantic and zealous intensity. An endless river of syrupy prespunk was gushing a practical moat around the pitcher’s mound, so thick that tadpole-sized sperm were swimming through the newly created molten ecosystem. Needless to say, the kiss marks surrounding my urethra were finally complete with all thirteen colors of our team.
All this love, all this worship, all this power, all with my Godcock docked on Doxie and pointed directly at the legendary Samus Aran. This might be the single most primed I’ve ever been. All the while, Brittani’s skullball was spinning so fast inside me that it was audible even ti the dynamite crowd—though in this case she was spinning like a barrel through a gun; like a gyroball, with her nose always pointed forward.
The entire crowd could see my body glowing and flashing with prismatic colors, as every muscle was so primed and powerful it almost looked like I belonged on the Devils' amazonian team. All this and I hadn’t even begun charging the Charge Shot.
They were all already pushing me all their power, all their love, but it was time for me to take even more. My teeth grit hard, foaming at the mouth already with ahegaoing eyes, as I finally deliberately pulled even more from the twelve soul-battery sluts. Yes, of course I had practiced this art too—the inverse of it at least.
Our souls were so interwoven that when they spoke, I spoke, and when I spoke, they spoke. We were as one, our lips overlapping. Twelve voices cried out at once, through me, “I love you!!” My voice simultaneously roared out, foaming at the lips, “I hate you!!”
Yes, this is what it meant to pull—to take. At it's epitome, this art was taking the give-and-take of relationships and pushing that imbalance to its furthest extreme.
It couldn’t be put into words what the give-and-take of soul-armored merging was really like. But to me it felt like thirteen heavens merging together, multiplying together, and overwhelming me so completely that it felt like explosions of euphoric bliss and power erupting from every vein, every nerve, every thought, every single aspect of my being.
I didn’t know firsthand what it felt like for them, but every single one of them said during practice it was the deepest physical and psychological agony she had ever felt… yet it was so horridly addictive that afterward she always craved to do it again. Even now I can feel the pleasure inversion of their agony; I can witness but not feel or even empathize with the unimaginable Hell tearing through each of them, but just as much I so innately feel how much each and every one of them CRAVE to give more, to have more taken, to never stop. If it wasn’t for my semi-consciousness at the center of us all, I’m entirely sure we would forget about Samus—forget about Skullball—and just be lost in this mindset until we died. That’s how addicting it was. Even after so much practice it felt so dangerous to even dabble in it.
But I pulled. I pulled. I pulled more and more love and omnilove directly from all of their souls, building it into me—charging it up further and further.
The sky’s red color had not even completely diminished from the last pitch, but now that same sky was growing dark. Yet there wasn’t a cloud. It was as if the sun itself was dimming.
Arcs of electricity began to dance across my body—jolting off the three girls upon me, and upon the ground itself. As the charge within me built up more and more, the arcs grew into cracks of thunderous lightning, and my furiously-throbbing thirteen-glorped Godcock began to visibility glow brighter and brighter.
This raged on for at least a full minute. Every time Samus thought the charge was almost full, it just kept going… and going… and going. Upon her furious brow, sweat visibly appeared. One could see her eyes dart to the locks on the hitter’s cage. Even if she wanted to escape, it was too late now… A visible, audible gulp emerged from her throat.
Thirteen overlapping voices spoke through my lips like a madwoman possessed, “I love… Wendy!! Wendy wins! Wendy wins!! WENDY WINS!!! SAMUS—” My hips pull back, grinding along Doxie’s body and shoving ass-first into Dew’s face, before all thirteen of us THRUST me forward all together. “—DIES!!”
Samus’ own overpowered Zero Laser was nothing compared to this. A gigantic multicolored beam of hyper-radiazing light BLASTED from my Godcock as thirteen souls screamsuck-hyperthroated through it all. The titanic spermbeam completely engulfed the hitter’s cage, home base, the cement wall, Plum’s body, and a pie-slice of the entire stadium. The only thing louder than the thunderous, lightning-cracking hyper beam obliteration was the sound of Samus’ death scream.
The warrior was utterly engulfed in burning sperm-light that tore away her power suit and zero suit like they were tissue paper. Within that beam of light, Brittani’s skull spiralled at blistering supersonic speed and SMASHED face-first into Samus’ own face—nose smashing nose, eyes smashing eyes, and lips smashing into lips. That impact alone was so utterly immense it blasted Samus off her feet, through what little remained of the stadium behind her, into the street outside, down several city blocks, through several cars and a building—all while Brittani’s lips remained fused onto her own.
The smoke was settling. Barely intact let alone alive, it was at this point Samus realized Brittani’s eyes were whited over… Just before s shotgun of spermfists BLASTED point-blank into Samus’ lips, nostrils, and eyes all at once. An utter onslaught of overpowered Godsperm—more than seemed to have fit into Brittani’s skull in the first place—furiously burrowed into Samus like a mercilessly pillaging army of demigod warriors. She could feel them ram down her trachea to stuff her lungs, dive down her throat to plug her stomach, tear up various other organs, burrow deep into her brain, and of course utterly impale the gushing ovaries within her womb.
A few blocks away, huge screens lit up with the internal shot of my sperm obliterating the warrior’s ovaries like overstuffed sausages. Alongside it were playful cartoon effects like fireworks going off as upbeat celebratory music boomed across hundreds of thousands of ahegao-screaming fans. A camera drone soon found the crater housing Samus, and zoomed in for dramatic shots that played alongside the zoom-in display of her womb.
Utterly used up, Brittani’s face slowly peeled off Samus’ like a wet and used rag. Numerous long, syruply strands of my seminal fluid stretched between her features and their parallels on what remained of Samus’ face. Finally she plopped into shards of city rubble, kicking up a cloud of dirt.
Samus’ body freakishly contorted for all to see, her eyes spermfucked out of their sockets. A few seconds later, a squad of spermfists triumphantly blasted out of her face—leaving nothing but a hole—and dove back in through her now-exposed lipples, burrowing all the way through her massive melons and ribs until they wriggled their way directly into her still-beating heart. The sound of her racing heartbeat was played into the stadium speakers, letting everyone hear in awe as the rhythmic thumping gradually faded—and stopped—overtaken by the sound of huge, gooey sperm wriggling around her insides.
While normally the score announcement was Plum’s duty, as far as officials could tell she had been completely vaporized out of the hitter’s box, so the announcer took over. “Strike five! Full impregnation!” The gasp made it more than apparent how incredible this was, “Slut slaughtered! 15-0, I repeat fifteen to zero with five casualties in the first inning! Wendy’s performance is already in the record books! We’re gonna need to rewrite the rules just to fit this caliber of player!!” A sharp inhale of breath prefixes the next line, “What—pray tell—what is this God of a player going to do next?!”
This was supposed to be an away game—the home of the enemy. But at this moment hundreds of thousands of freshly-made diehard Bruiser fans were all on their feet, screaming and chanting in unison, “WENDY WINS! WENDY WINS!! WENDY WINS!!!”
It felt like the entire world was in utter awe of me. Little did I realize how true that actually was—how legendary, how unbelievably this game already was. Drones and cameras were all broadcasting my face to live shows and streams cast across not only millions but billions of screens across the entire world. Even live news broadcasts were interrupted to show a feed of me, my gorgeous face, and my almighty Godcock aglow in the middle of this stadium surrounded by armoring souls and semitransparent spirit-suckers. My utter obliteration of Samus Aran and four of her teammates made every highlight reel, showing on repeat the internal footage of my sperm conquering their wombs.
All this awe, all this adoration, all this worship from around the world was so pure and so intense that in that moment I swear I could feel it as a physical sensation welling up inside me. I was beginning to suspect that I could take the love, the heaven, the divine power, not only out of my teammates… but maybe just about anyone who fancied me...
The deafening praise of the entire sold-out stadium was echoed and enhanced by the twelve souls surging within and around me. I could feel within me and all around me all twelve of my teammates chanting along with the crowd, our thirteen mouths all crying out with them in emphatic and brazen unison, “WENDY WINS! WENDY WINS!! WENDY WINS!!!”
All this and yet there was somehow this inning still had one more skullball left to be pitched… and one more hitter to be utterly annihilated.
Sixth Hitter
Unsurprisingly, the Devils had used one of their timeouts to try and formulate some desperate strategy to stop the invincible, unstoppable God of Skullball that had already shredded through everything that opposed her with nothing short of a perfect score.
While they used their time praying to some false gods, I spent the time reforming my team. With all the awe and love and other powerful positive emotions flooding into me from not only my teammates but now millions of fans—maybe even billions—it seemed so easy. Normally regenerating after a Skullball slaughtering was a pretty big ordeal, but when my fingertips pointed towards the bench in the dugout, all my teammates just seemed to appear almost instantly. Teleportation, regeneration, resurrection, and who knows what else. I didn’t even have to think about it; it just happened, seemingly for no reason other than because I willed it so.
Just like that, all twelve of my teammates appeared instantly. Every single one of them was as beautiful as she has ever been, as powerful and prime and happy as I’d ever seen her. I didn’t particularly think about it, but their figures seemed even more plump and athletic than I’d ever remembered. Their uniforms were just like before, but now all their hands were holding pink and white pom-poms as they literally cheered me on in a dance so coordinated you’d think it was practiced.
What made it all the more impressive is that this was still with every single one of them soul-husked, as I still felt their souls filling and armoring me with no less intensity. Every single one of their bodies should have been a zombie, but instead all twelve were absolutely beaming at me with eager energy, wide smiles, and bright heart-shaped eyes. Yet at the same time I could see those same eyes in spirit-form slamsucking my Godcock without end, lost in scream-choking ahegaos. Yet I could also feel those same eyes in soul-form overlapping with my own eyes. It was then I realized the trinity of this situation. Awe, lust, and love. Mind, body, and soul. All twelve of my teammates were giving me everything they had—all their worship, all positivity, all of their heavens—in no less than triplicate. If the last inning felt like times 13, then right now I felt like... times 13... cubed. It already seemed so trivial to inherently know this was a product of 2,137 without even thinking about it. Almost as trivial as the fact things were only going to escalate.
Once the time-out was called, Plum bounded over to her position in the hitter’s box. Cadance didn’t even leave the bunker—my will was such that her head plopped off her own shoulders and sucked across the entire field to SHWOOMP back into the depths of my Godcock where it belonged. She still didn’t pass up the opportunity to deftly plant a smoosh on my tip, even with the thirteen kiss marks from earlier still fresh and bright around my urethra. Even decapitated, Cadance’s body continued to fanatically cheer with the others.
The remaining eleven began to chant in unison, “WE LOVE WENDY! WE LOVE WENDY!! WE LOVE WENDY!!!” Moments later the entire crowd began to join in the chant, with hundreds of thousands of lips chanting together their personal love for me. Somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. That I deserved this, and everyone knew it.
With a flex, I caused the twelve souls infused into me to hype up into glowing rainbow aura-armor, pulling more power and heavens from all twelve as they so fanatically pushed all their omnilove throughout everything I was—no matter the personal cost.
Yet despite all this overwhelming, stadium-trembling power even I was a little surprised with the hitter they sent out next. A purple sphere was thrown from the dugout, with all those supposed warrior-athletes hiding out down there as if it was a bunker. The sphere bounced off home-plate, a split-second before it exploded in a flash of brilliant light.
As the light faded, the form of a literal god appeared in the hitter’s box. Arceus. Let me say that again. Timeless and divine creator of all, motherfucking Arceus. A being most believed to be mere myth. A holy entity who is said to have created not only this world, not only this galaxy, but the entire universe as we know it. Some say she even crafted by hand all the beings who inhabit it. One can barely even begin to understand how the majestic might of this deity was even somehow contained to this stadium, let alone the purple sphere that summoned her. What unthinkable things did the Devils do to convince her to oppose me in a mere Earthly sport? Even the chanting crowd was silenced by the divine light of her presence. An angelic choir seemed to emerge from the air around Arceus, and even that very air seemed to flow ethereally around her.
Her divine fingers stretched out towards me, and her eyes flashed with a golden light.
…
Nothing seemed to happen.
...
A long pause ensued—until it became awkward.
I glanced behind me, witnessing that a gigantic hole in the shape of her hand had been cleaved out of reality. I’m not saying the stadium was destroyed, or even the planet. There was what could only be described as a black hole in the shape of her hand cutting through the fabric of space-time. Yet in that hole I could see my own silhouette standing unphased. It was then that I realized: she just tried to erase me and all of my surroundings from existence.
But.
She failed so miserably I didn’t even notice the attempt.
What did fear look like in the divine gaze of the creator of all? Perhaps I was the only one who would ever know. Dare I even attempt to commit deicide? Over a mere game? Why even bother asking the question. Every single soul within me answered with a resounding, screaming, emphatic, mouth-foaming YES…!
I would have thought a god would have teleported away, or ripped open a wormhole, or shattered physics in some other way. Yet she remained in the hitter’s cage. Did she wish to stay—did she wish to play by the rules—or was the sheer power of my will so great that she could do nothing else but stand there? To be honest even I didn’t know for sure.
But one thing was crystal clear.
I would hold nothing back.
The first thing, with little more than an errant thought, was summon the five slaughtered sluts of the enemy team onto my team’s bench. Brianna, Francine, Red, Satsuki, and even Samus. Just like my teammates they appeared in the white-and-pink Barbie Bruiser uniforms, holding pom-poms and blowing pink bubble gum.
All I wanted to do was bring them back so they could see their team’s final offense of the inning utterly defeated. The thought of asking anything from them never even entered my mind. Everything they were about to do was entirely of their own volition with no prompt or even response from me, consciously or (I think) subconsciously. All this even as their decapitated and impregnated corpses were still rotting in dumpsters and craters from how overwhelmingly I slaughtered them.
Instantly, all five completely gave their souls, minds, and bodies to me.
Minds: The twelve ghosts scream-sucking my throbbing obelisk of a Godcock were immediately jointed by five more, with all seventeen slurp-slobbering base to tip and back again so fast and hard no living form could replicate it. They were like engine pistons. Unworldly tongues, bodies full of gooey ectoplasm, and lips of the afterlife. All as their gorgeous faces SMASHED into my pelvis several times every single second. Needless to say, my cocktip was endlessly smothered in seventeen different colors encircling the opening to my urethra, each refreshed with every single bob each ghost dragged back to the tip. All the while an endless river of presunk flooded forth, turning the grass between the bases into a lake-sized steaming eco system of tadpole-sperm, with the pitcher’s mound a single island rising above it.
Souls: I felt the twelve layers of soul-armor SURGE as five athletic warriors merged into and stacked onto it, with each one multiplying the effect of all the others already interwoven. It was so seamless as if they had been practicing this art for months, just like the Bruisers. All of my already seemingly invincible power skyrocketed to entire new exponentially higher levels. They might have thought they were giving me everything they had—strength, brilliance, beauty—but I took even more than that without even trying.
Bodies: Despite being soul-husked zombies robbed of all positive pleasures, they joined my team in ecstatic cheers and dances gushing heart-eyes. The sight was all the more amusing with scowling Samus and ice-cold Satsuki beaming at me like brainblasted bimbos. The squad of sixteen (mins Plum) was already starting a new cheer and dance as if they coordinated it, with the crowd soon joining in.
As if this wasn’t already enough, my body was further equipped and layered in my slut’s armor.
My nuts were smothered in the squeezing Kamuis of both Ryouko and Satsuki; Samus’s power suit was wrapped around the base of my shaft like a cockring, with her zero suit stretched around it like a sleeve (though all the spirit-suckers phased through it to lather my flesh directly regardless). Azzi’s wingsuit was strapped around my chest like a bra, crystal wings surrounding my back. Dew’s white feathery wings sprouted around them, giving me the appearance of four wings. Sorya’s metal exoskeleton embraced my arms and legs, worn over the Barbie-uniform gloves and stockings I still had on. I felt the insoles of my cleats reshape into flesh as the brain/face of Brittani appeared under my sweaty left sole, and the brain/face of Jena under my right. The disembodied and drooling tongues of Brianna and Red lathered licks into my armpits, pulled towards them as if by magnetism.
The remaining fifteen disembodied tongues, led by Francine, spiralled directly into my bare sweaty anus to drill directly into my prostate without end.
Appearing upon my fingers were seventeen golden glowing bands of light, and for each one a vantablack collar appeared around the necks of the cheerleader-bodies in my team’s dugout. Deeper than marriage, it symbolized outright unequal ownership of every single one of their minds, bodies, and souls.
My red twintails even grew to extend past my waist, empowered by Miku, and the bottom tips of each tail began to flicker and dance like flames. A spiral of green leaves began to swirl behind me, symbolizing the power and submission of the Forest Sage, Saria. Even Doxie’s cute cyan antennae sprouted from my head instead.
Above and behind those antennae was the most important accessory set of all: a whopping seventeen golden and glowing halos. Each was a symbol of each slut willingly sacrificing her promised eternal Heaven unto me. Yes. Every single one of them gave up eternal bliss and happiness and inner peace for no reason other than so I could experience it instead on their behalf. More than that, each of them damned herself to eternal Hell—infinite suffering and agony far beyond mortal understanding. And this wasn’t some far-off future after death. This started right here and right now, with me forever enjoying all their combined heavens as they rot in a literal living hell without any end or escape.
All of this and so much more was gifted wholeheartedly and instantly unto me from all seventeen of them at once. Yet they expected nothing in return. Not even a thank you. I could throw the game right now—throwing in the trash everything we had all worked for so hard—and they would not even doubt it. No, even more than that, they expected and wanted less than nothing. They craved to give me even more; for me to take even more; for me to not even return their love or affection, but hate them for it.
Yet all of this transpired in less than a second, merely from me thinking about bringing back five enemies—five obliterated and conquered piles of wombtrash.
The second act of mine… was to wring every single one of their damned souls like sponges, physically and metaphysically. As they pushed so much wanton omnilove and sacrifice into me all at once, I crushed their souls with outright and unabashed hate so primal they felt it in the deepest depths of their hearts. Yet it only caused them to omnilove me even more, creating a feedback loop that intensified further and further, with each cycle skyrocketing our—My—already overdivine power.
The third act of mine… was finally to return my sights to the trapped and trembling god that attempted to do so much as harm me. I didn’t even need to think about the black hole behind me; it was already sealed, returning the thundering crowd back into existence as if nothing happened. The bitch already saw her future worn upon me, damned to eternal hell as she threw everything she could ever give would be given to me, and I wouldn’t even ask it of her nor ever once show the barest hint of gratitude.
Deep inside my everloved Godcock, Cadance’s unihorned slutskill was pointed directly towards Arceus—and spiraling at supersonic speeds, yet only spinning faster and faster with every passing millisecond.
Even with all this unimaginable power and pleasure, I can feel it building and building as the shot draws near. Supernovas of bliss explode from every single fiber of my body, mind, and soul and each is amplified exponentially through every layer of heaven and soul-armor embracing me so tightly and lovingly. Nothing short of Godhood would even enable me to endure this much mind-shattering ecstasy without literally evaporating into gas from how ridiculously fast my nerves and muscles would be trembling. Even with Godhood my red lips are foaming between grit teeth, my buxom chest panting heavily through them as my pupils are hyper-focused into pinpricks. The thunderous noise erupting from my ballsack echoes several towns away, a deep hum so low it’s almost inaudible.
My colossal Godcock of several feet is THROBBING with such insane heat and power every single member of the crowd can feel every single heated pulse hitting them in the face as if they had just opened an oven. The prespunk river is so ludicrous that it’s practically a firehose in its own right, blasting a continuous stream of spermfists and syrupy white sludge across the entire field to continuously blast Arceus directly in her face. Even now, directly against her unblinking and shocked eyes, she can feel fluid pressure powerful enough to bend steel and hot enough to melt concrete—as spermfists smash and punch into her face, nose, lips, neck, and lipples again and again without relent. Through it all she and everyone else can see seventeen translucent colors—the sucking spirits—flashing faster than light along my everworshiped obelisk.
Wind, light, lightning, thunder, and heat erupt from my overpowered existence in ever-increasing intensity the closer my shot verges. To mortal eyes it looks like a rainbow-colored explosion continuously detonating atop a lake of yogurt-thick semen. The arcs of lightning are even tearing through the crowd like they’re nothing, but they still can’t even take their eyes away.
My feet dig into the mound so insanely hard the ground fissures. As my hands reach forward, space itself contorts until my fists wrap around the horns, crown, and halo of Arceus all at once—even as she stands dozens of feet away from me, frozen as if locked in time.
The fabric of space continues to distort—the entire world folding in on itself—as I pull Arceus told me without removing her from the hitter’s cage, bending space-time until her white-and-black lips are pressed point-black against my urethra, painting the 18th kiss mark in place. Her body stretches backward, lifting off the ground, until she’s floating above home ate with her spine parallel to my Godcock’s slight curve. My cockhead is several times the size of her head, with every tremendous PULSE smashing her nose and eyes and the brain inside her skull with several times the force of a speeding freight train and the heat of a volcano. All the while an endless firehose of spermfists PUNCH into her mouth, down her neck, and flooding her “core”—a divine combination of heart, womb, and mind. The announcer, along with everyone else, is so utterly lost in awe that they can’t even bring themselves to announce that I’ve already secured a Full Impreg before even pitching. But perhaps no one but the enemy team can even consciously think of the games’ rules right now.
A blinding white light begins to glow from deep inside my urethra, shining out of Arceus’ ears, eyes, and nostrils.
Finally.
It’s time.
Sixth Hitter, pt. 2
Hundreds of city-obliterating nukes combined are a firecracker compared to the Omnimpregnating Deicide Godsperm eruption of incomparable power that SLASHED, point-blank into Arceus’ eyes, nostrils, plush black-and-white lips, all at once, in less than the first nanosecond.
During the second nanosecond, a quasar-dwarfing pure-white hypernova capable of instantly evaporating billions of planets and a galaxy or two obliterated the cunt’s face and core several consecutive times—with each destruction followed by an instantaneous auto-resurrection just so she could be destroyed again.
Yet all that was the equivalent of a muzzle flare, not even the actual shot. So much of my power was concentrated into Cadance’s horn alone that it shined brighter than a thousand suns as she screamed forward through my shaft near the speed of light, spiraling millions of revolutions per second.
From the perspective of Arceus, Cadance, all my souls, and I, time felt as it slowed to a desperate crawl. It was almost as if the universe itself was slowing down or buffering just to process the intensity about to occur.
Arceus felt a thousand stars’ worth of heat and power in the tip of Cadance’s razor-sharp horn as it STABBED directly into the center of the God’s pupil. It was as if that single puncturing pierce repeated again and again countless times over in a loop Arceus would never escape.
As Cadance drilled through the bitch’s eye socket, time continued at a slow crawl yet also a blazingly intense speed. Arceus could feel the solar slashes spinning through, cutting flesh into cells, and cells into molecules, and molecules into quarks, and deeper still, all as her divine senses felt the obliterating force of it all without end. Soon Cadance’s and Arceus’ faces were grinding through each other thousands of times every nanosecond, all with Arceus’ flesh shredding away into nanoscopic photons. She could feel her brain in her skull shredding down further and further. Then, her throat and esophagus skewered into subatomic particles, along with several other particles. By this point most of her upper torso was shredded so utterly there was no trace of it in any recognizable form, save for her lips which hung onto me like a sticker.
The unicorn’s star drill literally pierced the heavens—into Arceus’ core; her womb, heart, and soul, all in one. The seat of creation and the origin of all life. No being had ever even witnessed it before, let alone even touched it. Yet now it was being drilled through until it shattered apart inside her body, sticking glass-like shards into what remained of her flesh—flesh that was soon torn apart as Cadance skewered through her pelvis and out her cunt, spinning with such violent intensity that everything down to the God’s toes was reduced to quarks—but even like this, she regenerated almost instantly. For a moment, time seemed to resume as Cadance’s spiralling skull blasted away into the depths of space like a laser.
Next, the sheer heat of friction causes the atmospheric gas inside the hitter’s cage to explode with intensity like a nuclear bomb—all of which was felt by Arceus’ divine body as it was in the midst of regenerating. Then, the thunderous shockwave of the ‘bullet’ blasted through the area, absolutely leveling dozens of city blocks behind the stadium, cratering anything that wasn’t already reduced to ash by the propelled fiery explosion, including the shreds of Arceus.
If the initial blast was the muzzle flare, then Cadance’s skull was only the cork popping off the top of a fizz-filled bottle.
I pulled space-time forward until Arceus was forced to resurrect and regenerate around my Godcock, with her face smashed into my pelvis and my cocktip buried inside her glassy black core as it reformed.
One single skull-sized Omnisperm launched forward with such indescribable intensity that a moment later Arceus's core was on the edge of the solar system, and the moment after that the entire planet we were on was pushed ever so slightly from its normal orbit. A second after that, the entire sky filled with blinding white light as that single sperm SuperNOVA’d into an interstellar spermnuke that ripped apart her sensitive virgin core with greater intensity and violence than anything on this planet had ever experienced before. And she felt every last iota of it, in full.
Her core almost instantly regenerated on its own, but I willed it to reform even faster as the next single Omnisperm blasted point-blank inside her with such insane force the sky burned and the ground quaked; entire city blocks were leveled just from the shockwave, which could be felt all across the globe.
Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. All while her lips slorped the base of my Godcock like there was no tomorrow.
After a few seconds, Cadance’s skull came screaming back from the opposite side of the universe—having already completed a full physics-shattering lap around. This time, she STABBED directly into Arceus other eye and burrowed her entire skull deep into Arceus’ brain, all as she remained impaled on me in seemingly-endless core-obliteration. Once seated, the whites of Cadance’s eyes freakishly contorted before just her entire skull exploded inside Arceus’ brain like a claymore, blasting spermfists punching into every single brain cell rattling inside Arceus’ skull.
After hundreds of Omnisperm, I surged into the next stage. All seventeen sluts’ lips overlapped with mine as we embraced in a unilateral kiss of heaven-and-hell, with Arceus’ black-and-white lips joining in as the 18th. In our nineteen-way kiss, all of us moaned out in harmoniously perfect unison with one voice, “WENDY. FUCKING. WINS.
“I. LOVE. WENDY.”
“DIE, FALSE GOD.”
In an instant, Arceus’ entire body was swallowed face-first into my Giga-Godcock until nothing remained outside the tip but her kicking heels. Her skull was forcefully loaded into the same chamber the previous six skullballs were launched from, but unlike them her face was pointed down—inside me. There she was CLENCHED with enough force to make any non-divine substance into diamonds, with enough heat to melt anything.
Like Cadance and others before her, Arceus was forced to spiral and spin inside my shaft faster and faster and faster as her face, chest, and entire body ground into my urethral alesh—all as she experienced eye-stabbing, core-obliterating agony again and again without end. All as that same Godcock was hyperthroated-screamsucked by eighteen different ghosts, now even including her own.
As she spun and spun, Omnisperm continously blasted up from my balls to punch and rape through her face—now point-blank—as they tore through her throat and into her core with cosmic explosions no less than before. I also put to use an ability I had yet to employ; the white sperm-teeth within my urethra formed sperm-blades to slash and tear at her body as she spun, yet despite it she continued to whirl and spin faster and faster.
Soon her entire body was a whirr, then a blur. Her cores were struggling to regenerate. The sheer omnipotence of my Godcock aided by eighteen crushing throats all worked together to literally crush the life out of this living God, all as core after core obliterated from her galaxies’ worth of energy and power with every single sky-filling obliterating nova. After minutes and minutes of this the bright white light glowing from her body began to dim.
For all to see, an 18th halo appeared in the stack arranged for me. Arceus knew full well this didn’t mean I would stop—no, it would only intensify. Yet still she donated unto me the greatest Heaven that there ever was, the Heaven of Heavens, robbing her eternal existence of it forever and DAMNING herself to deity-level hell. Her soul armored me in its ultimate layer as the divinity of a literal God infused into every single aspect of my being, donating permanently every single aspect of her holiness unto its new and rightful owner. A nineteenth glowing ring appeared around one of my fingers, nearly completely two for each digit.
But now.
That I had the power of God.
The fires of creation burned against her gaping eyes and screaming lips. Each of my Omnisperm were packed with the virility to birth an entire universe.
For all her effort, what did Arceus receive? A trillion Big Bangs of Omnisperm OBLITERATING through her. A blinding beam of quasar-dwarfing energy erupted from deep within my balls, incinerating the God to infinitely less than nothing—into not the void, but less than void, into particles of pure pain, agony, weakness, and defeat, created solely so she personally could experience them in the deepest layer of Deity Hell.
These less-than-nothing particles blasted through several universes as the quasar-sperm-cannon, as wide as a galaxy, tore and burned through the cosmos with universe-puncturing force—beyond this universe, this multiverse, and further still. It would become her third eternally-experienced loop.
A content smile spread across my lips as my Godcock was utterly vacated, and for the first time since the start of this inning my balls were free and bouncy. In truth, everything in me felt so light and effortless now.
I turned to what remained of the stadium, simply willing back the majority of it into being, and happily flicked off the entire crowd. Orgasmic screams filled the area as every single one of them creamed their pants just from witnessing me rape, torture, and kill God Herself.
“F-f-full impreg?! Slut slaughtered?! ...Where is the wall?!” The announcer had a hard time even speaking after that, despite it being her entire profession. Still the score ticked over to the perfect and unprecedented 18-0 before the other team even had a chance to pitch.
Needless to say, they’ll have a hard time even filling the field. Skullball is a game of attrition after all, and six of their sluts have already been slaughtered… Leaving at most one pitcher and five skullballs.
A slight sigh escapes my lips. All this and I’m so blue-balled and pent up from not even climaxing myself, even after making the entire crowd do it. It’s all just been a small amount of weaponized sperm, plus the overflow of prespunk of course. Oh well. That just means I’ll be all the more amped up now that it’s finally our team’s turn to hit… and… well… at this point who else would we send up first?
Bottom of the First
Suffice to say I should have seen this coming.
Until now the remaining Devils had demonic black horns, some swol, and cute little black wings. In the short span of time between innings each had invoked all the hellish powers of Satan, the damned, Eldritch horrors, Elder Gods, and who knows what else. I guess we all now know how Samus and the rest became so tall and buff in the first place.
But at least then they were trying to pass off as human. Suffice to say I had put all illusions of that to bed; in a single inning, this league had been forever severed from the hands of mere mortals. Every step the Devils took onto the field left sizzling hellfire in its wake, and the air around them soured with soot and smoke. What took up mere Skullball infield positions now were nothing short of Devil Gods.
What’s more, the six positions I had so valiantly vanquished were already filled with “extras.” We would have called shenanigans on this, but at this point, it almost seemed warranted that they cheat in every possible way they can—just so I can show them how sorely and overwhelmingly beaten they are and always will be.
Meanwhile I retained all eighteen slaughtered sluts in full triplicate. Arceus had spawned a husked body onto my bench, completed the cheerleading squad into seventeen even as her real body is still blasting through countless omniverses in endless, unimaginably brutal agony burning apart in nebulous oceans of Omnisperm hypernovas.
All five field positions were filled: Sarah on first base, Emily on second, Jeanne as shortstop, Xi on third base, and Dee Jex guarding home. Of course, the legendary Mallifer was their pitcher—the beast of last season’s games. Calling them by those same names now however seems almost ridiculous. Each of them is towering nine feet tall with fangs, horns, demonic meter-long tongues, claws, talons, whipping devil tails, huge wings, eyes glowing white or red or even vanta-black, and more. Their muscles are all so insanely huge and ripped that practically nothing remains of their uniforms. Yeah, needless to say their demonic horns weren’t just for show, but they’re even larger now, with most sporting four or more of the things. These aren’t women, these are beasts and monsters, every single one of them emanating the power of a God in her own right.
It almost seemed unbelievable, then, seeing five of these titans reduced to slutskulls so Mallifer could wield them. Yeah, the bitch was even sprouting a four-footer of a behemoth cock too… though the rest of the team seemed to only have cunts.
The amount of black mist gushing off all these bitches swirled against the rainbow light and aura bursting off from me at all times now, creating a pretty spectacular fireworks show in its own right. But no more fucking around.
Time to put these bitches in their place. Honestly, did they think the power of Hell would save them when nineteen sluts—including half their own team and God herself—damned themselves to that place just to pleasure me?
I stepped up to home base—Dee Jex squatting behind me—as nineteen spirits screamsucked and nineteen souls armored me with everything they had, all while wielding the armor and accessories from earlier as my new uniform. I entered a battle-ready stance, sure to shove my ass directly in Dee’s face as I did so.
First Hit
I could see five slutskulls rolling around in Malshit’s ballsack, but didn’t get a chance to see what cunts were loaded up. I could see them slobbering away inside her balls, trying to get her off. While I had a “normal” ghost in the Ghost Blowjob position at first, this bitch was starting off with the literal ghost of Cthulhu. I could see those slimy cunt’s Eldritch Horror tentacles going to town on and through her shaft as she pumped up.
After a long pause, I raised an eyebrow, wondering why it was taking so long. Trying to take me off guard?
No.
The bitch was going all out. She was actually going to get off with the first pitch. She was going all-or-nothing already. Mal's powerful thighs trembled, knees buckling, almost falling over as her face bent into a brow-furrowing and lip-stretching o-face.
Finally, a thunderous BOOM blasted through the stadium as a white hyper beam of air-burning demonic eldritch might tore towards me like nuclear fire. Holy fuck. That skullball belonged to Kim, the single best striker in all the league. How did they snip that bitch from her former team?
Didn’t fucking matter.
My hips THRUST forward with perfect timing and aim. As Kim screamed forward at supersonic speed with a gyroball death-spiral, her lips SLAMMED over my gargantuan cockhead—jaw snapping apart as her skull spunin down my length all the way to my base, her nose hitting home into my pelvis with a stadium-shaking THUD!!
Gritting my teeth, I reached one hand down and grabbed her face like a bowling ball—JAMMING my fingers into her eyes and nostrils, and proceeded to idly grind and twist her skull along my length like the fucking cocktoy it was. Yeah, maybe that kind of impact would do something last year, but this was a new fucking game.
I violently ripped Kim’s skull back off my shaft—the pillar prying free with an audible pop from just how undersized Kimcunt’s lips were. Using both hands I press her face against my tip—as if to show just how utterly colossal my cockhead is compared to her entire skull. Much to my surprise she offered a french kiss straight onto my urethra, planting the 20th consecutive kiss mark on that exact spot. How cute. How shameless. How desperate. I pulled my hips back and delivered a brutal SLAM straight into her face, turning her skull and brains to mush between my fingers. From there my Godcock sucked up her remains like jelly, swallowing them with a loud GULP before her face was pressed to my ballsack—right where Mallifer could see it.
My free hand raised a middle finger to that bitch of a pitcher, beckoning her to get on with it. Not a single point.
Second Hit?
Mallifer was trying to build up to orgasm again, but I was already getting very tired of this. Despite being a literal Devil God she was still fucking nothing compared to me. Blowing her load in the first pitch wasn’t even as powerful as my own first pitch before I activated any of our team’s real power. This was fucking over.
My hands reached forward, bending through space time, until they were compressed around Mallifer’s panting, sweaty, muscle-bound neck like she was a fucking ragdoll—collapsing her throat with the slightest budge of my thumb.
My hips did the same, reaching towards hers, until my epic fucking Godcock—at least six feet compared to her supposedly-impressive four or so—fucking swalloed her entire length as if it was deepthroating her. She was about to fucking climax again just from this, but she didn’t deserve shit.
From here all it took was one squeeze and flex of my balls, and her second skullball audibly SHLRRRPED right out of her balls, through her shaft, and into my ballsack. I wasn’t even going to let her breathe. Three more almost effortless squeezes—SHRRLRP, SHLOOOP, SLOOOOP—and the bitch was out of skullballs before she even had a time to fucking use them. Unlike my teammates, I didn’t show these ones mercy; they felt spermteeth rake and slash across their eyes, noses, and lips as they fell down through the spermspikes lining the inside of my shaft
But no, that wasn’t the end of this. The spermteeth within my urethra suddenly surged in length and size, becoming spermSWORDS that skewered her shaft inside my own hundreds of times over like a sliced sausage. Without retracting them, I RIP her body away from mine by the neck, leaving nothing at her crotch but a bloody hole above the cunt she deserves instead.
As if it was a mere afterthought, my six-footer swallowers her schlong like a fucking snack, absorbing every last bit of testosterone she could provide and repurposing it as my titan springs out to ten full fucking feet—twice the height of any normal bitch, and taller than even these Devil God cunts.
I let go of her throat, throwing the bitch to the ground on the pitcher’s mound she didn’t even deserve, her face smashing into the dirt where I once stood.
I barely even noticed to care, but the ghost of Cthulhu had even transferred off her cock to my Godcock, as if I needed a 21st throat screamsucking away at me while Mallifer now had fucking nothing.
The faces that pressed against my sack weren’t identifiable at first, but I quickly realized this bitch had stupidly buried the lead. There were some really heavy hitters. The literal queen of hell Satania, the actual head of Cthulhu who was already choking my Godshaft anyway, legendary half-genie Shantae, and the demigod warrior She-Ra. All five of them were stuck scream-ahegaoing against the surface of my scrotum from the inside as their drowned in broiling prespunk.
The officials didn’t even have an answer for this, because I took all five skullballs and didn’t leave the plate. But at this point I didn’t even give a fuck whether they thought our team technically won or not. Now it was just showing the Devils how brutally and stupidly outmatched they were.
Home Run
You could say I sprinted to first base, but it was more light a lightning bolt flashed across the field. Yet every single one of those lightning-fast steps STOMPED the brains of Jena and Brittani within my cleets.
I was on Devil God Sarah before she could even blink. The back of her head nestled neatly into my palm before I BLASTED her face-first into first base itself so hard the base shattered into thousands of pieces that tore into her flesh and eyes, and a five-foot wide crater was left in the area she was supposedly supposed to guard. By the time I pulled my hand back, some of the dirt closed back in, burying her up to the waist.
Without a single fucking care, I squated over her and SLAMMED every mindblowing inch of Godcock down through her cunt, skewering her womb, ripping through a dozen different organs, plowing through her neck, and SLAMMING my cocktip directly to the top of her buried skull and into her brain as the endless firehose-river of Godspunk floods directly into its center. For a brief moment I can feel her slobbering demon-tongue bend backward as she attempts to lavish my shaft even from this position.
With a twist and a crunch, I force her skull from her shoulders and SHLLOOP—swallow it down ten fucking feet of spermspikes to join her teammates drowning in my superheated balls. A long, slow drag of my shaft leaves her body in fucking shambles—but not without my prespunk stuffing her womb to a diameter of two meters at least. I leave her decapitated corpse on first base as a testament to her failure, shoulders slammed in the ground like a cowardly ostrich.
In less than a second, I flash through the second base guard—Emily—and into shortstop—Jeanne—before either of them can even realize what just happened.
Every single mind-blowing inch of Godcock TORE through Emily’s screaming black demon-lips, crushing her fangs in her mouth as my shaft bathes against her vibrating forked tongue. Her face SMASHED all the way down to my pelvis with the force of a nuclear warhead in the same moment my cocktip BURST out of her cunt wearing her womb inside-out like a reversed beanie cap.
A few frames later I was wearing Emily like this, as a condom, as that womb-equipped tip SMASHED through Jeanne’s cunt as she stood helpless in the way—SLAMMING and SKEWERING through countless organs until my tip burst triumphantly from her broken jaw and stretching red lips, wearing her dislodged womb as the second layer squeezing around my cocktip.
Holding this position for only a few seconds, the spermteeth at my urethra bite a hole through Emily’s inverted womb, leaving an opening into the sandwiched space between wombs that is rapidly STUFFED with the endless river of presperm gushing from my tip at all times. Moments later the freakish dual-womb fusion slops off like an overweight water balloon, stuffed to five or six meters across in almost an instant.
From there, I place one hand on the horn of Jeanne’s cocktip-guzzling face, and the other on the horn of Emily’s cockbase-guzzling face (about ten feet apart) then twist… and pull… ripping and CRUNCHING both of them completely in half straight through their skulls, spines, and all, leaving four halves of Devil God corpses in the dirt. Each of my fists is left clutching half of a skull ripped and torn up like a squished grape.
I toss the four half-head into the air, which float towards my cocktip to be SHLRRPED and torn up even further by rows upon rows of spermSWORDS before splooshing into my ballsack, where their half-faces join the others.
On third base is the rippling tiger warrior, Xi. It takes about a millisecond for my fist to cleave a gaping hole through her green eye, grab her entire skull by the brain inside it, RIP her head from her shoulders, and STUFF that same skull down my ten-footer to be torn and slashed and swallowed before she too drowns in murderous presperm syrup.
I then heaved her decapitated corpse into the air by its demonic tail, flipping it over to land perfectly neck-first on my phallic behemoth. Mere seconds was all it took to turn those toned abs into several-meters-thick of sloshing sperm-syrup.
On home base jiggles Dee Jex. With this goo bitch, I don’t even aim. I launch towards her with no less speed and force than the last, but throw my body literally into hers—my cock PUNCHING through her gooey womb, my fist SMASHING into the side of her face, my knee SLAMMING her clit, all with so much force she goes flying into the far wall behind home plate, kicking up a huge cloud of dirt.
A storm of lightning blasts out from my overpowered body, and the crowd gasps as they realize I am now inside Dee—like a germ swallowed by a white blood cell. From inside her my teeth crunch, my fists rip and tear, my cleets stomp, my body burns, electricity gushes, my balls roar with thjnder, my Godcock PULSES with infernal heatwaves, utterly thrashing the bitch from the inside out. Every blow of my fists SLAMS her insides so hard that they distend for a hundred feet or more—blasting into the far wall, or the dirt, or the crowd.
From here I swallow her entire jelly body down my shaft, slashing and TEARING through her goo with hundreds of burning sperm-swords—down to the last drop until my balls are absolutely stuffed—before spitting her back out again to SLASH through them all over again. This repeats maybe a dozen more cycles before finally I rip my way back into her body.
I’m soon left wearing her body as my utterly submissive slime armor, but her face and tits have been morphed and relocated to my pelvis—where her massive melons coat and embrace my equally massive Kamui-equipped balls, and her ahegao-screaming skull sucks around the base of my Power Suit-equipped Godshaft like a cockring.
Just like that, all of Mallifer’s teammates have been utterly conquered, leaving her all alone. Her entire team’s skulls swallowed into my utterly superior nutsack. Did that even take a full minute?
Oh, and look, suddenly I have a ton more halos. Guess which spirits just joined the growing army suffer-slobber hyper-choking my ten-foot Titancock. How many is that now?
Final Boss
Mallifer was the ultimate symbol of the enemy team, and right now she was whimpering below me and crying while blood gushed from her pelvis without end. She had been abandoned and betrayed by all her teammates, all her friends, who were now giving me EVERYTHING they are or ever could be all at once—gushing love, lust, and awe for their One True God. It cut Mallifer’s heart like a knife. The horror upon her distorted features was deepened all the more upon realizing that she would soon be the same—and she would want it more than anything she’s ever known.
I had performed the formality of ‘running’ to each of the bases, but that was long over now. It might look like I approached the pitcher’s mound, but it would be more accurate to say the entire planet—the entire universe—shifted itself so I was suddenly there, caring little what gravity feebly attempted to impose upon me. To onlookers I blasted through the field so quick it almost looked like I teleported there, ‘sprinting’ before jumping high and pulling back my fist, only to land knuckle-first into Mallifer’s nose with a cratering superman PUNCH—so hard the thunderous CRACK echoed miles away.
The mere shockwave from that punch instantly blasted a ten-meter wide hole into the pitcher’s mound underneath Mallifer, evaporating the dirt underneath her. Physics almost needed to buffer her trajectory as a full second later her skull blasted downward at supersonic speed, bouncing off the bottom of the crater before flying back up—while the crater itself rapidly filled with the prespunk ocean now drencing the entire field.
Mallifer’s bounce surged hundreds of feet into the air. Her face was utterly concave like a squished grape already, but I wasn’t going to stop there. I squatted down to the ground before leaping up with a tremendous thrust, my overpowered hips SLAMMING a Godcock-punch straight into that concaved face, tearing completely through it and her brains within as I impale all the way through her bloody mane of black hair and horns—leaving her decapitating body falling towards the field.
No. This wasn’t enough.
I dove back down towards her now-decapitated body, SMASHING my cleats into her fat pale lipples—into her tits, through her ribs, and STOMPED her body into the spermlake so hard the syrupy splashed sprinkled the nosebleed seats. On impact my cleats STAB-SMASHED her still-beating heart inside her body, utterly eviscerating it apart into unrecognizable pulp. Simultaneously, her cunt and womb and severed neck were all blasting full of my spermlake Spermfists, each of which liberally PUNCHED its way through her organs and ovaries with no less aggression than the bitch deserved.
While still standing in her cans and on her heart, I resurrected Mallifer’s decapitated skull between my fists, holding her face point-blank against my polyslorped ten-footer. Instilled directly into her mind was the knowledge of choice; the blue pill and the red pill. She could surrender here and admit defeat, suffering no more abuse as she returned to the closest she could ever have to a normal life. Or she could devote herself entirely to me forevermore, following the path her entire team had taken—which would mean countless lifetimes of deeper suffering than anyone before Me had ever even begun to fathom, all in the unilateral purpose of pleasuring Me and none other.
The twenty-ninth halo appeared above my head. With tears of joy streaming from her eyes, Mallifer planted the twenty-ninth color of kissmark upon the urethra her face was mashed against; as her nose and tongue frantically open-mouth kiss the inside, making out with the spermteeth within. Yet another golden ring appeared around my finger, as a vantablack band sealed around the bitch’s neck.
A content smile spread across my face. “Always remember, cunt… You chose this.”
I heave my hips back, before SLAMMING forward into her face, swallowing her entire slutskull with a loud GLRRK as her features raked across row upon row of ten-feet of spermteeth.
I swallowed her all the way down into my balls so the others within could kiss or bite her—whatever they wanted—before instantly reloading her back into the chamber, aiming it at the fucking sun, and almost instantly blasting her away with a sky-shattering THWOOOMPH!!!!
The bitch flew through the atmosphere so fast she felt explosions of fiery air rip into her eyes, and the clouds behind blasted apart from the shockwave. Mere seconds later her skull skewered into the surface of the sun, imbued with unimaginable firestorms of heat.
A few seconds later her skull blasted out the other side of the sun, where I was already waiting. My fist pulled back before SMASHING a flaming superman punch straight into her nose with enough force to crush a mountain, sending her bouncing back through the entire star.
On the other side I was already waiting, again, where my Godcock caught and swallowed her burning-hot skull like it was nothing—just like enough to roast the other skullballs alive—before thunderous BLASTING her back through the sun again.
Strike after strike, shot after shot, each taking maybe not even a full second, as Mallifer’s skull was incinerated and smashed apart beyond any compare—all as her decapitated corpse was raped and ripped apart by a ravious syrupy molten lake of Spermfists.
This continued for minutes on end until finally I caught her deep in my balls yet again, before loading her up with a single Gigagodsperm directly into her brain, before LAUNCHING my hips forward so insanely hard not even three full seconds passed before she SMASHED nose-first back into our home planet so incredibly hard the world was knocked out of orbit.
Mere seconds after that, her skull popped out of the other side of the planet, exactly above the stadium just like I wanted. Yes, the bitch just took a few hundred miles of solid rock and molten metal to her eyes, nose, and lips—as if the fucking sun wasn’t all that and more.
Yet even after all that she still was blasting so hard that she tore all the way through back out the atmosphere and to the moon, only to find me on its other side waiting for her.
With a perfect critical hit, her spiraling star-blasted face landed lips-first directly onto my invincible Godtip with enough force to blast through dozens more stars. In fact, I was probably the only celestial body that could have stopped her dead in her tracks. And every last joule of all that force was pumped into the single star-snuffing collision of her lips and nose against the tip of my Godcock. Physics seemed to stretch and contort just trying to calculate it, stretching that moment out further and further as Mallifer’s utter obliteration from the impact dragged out longer and longer—until finally the sky filled with a faint pink mist from just how insanely hard her head was squashed.
From here, I spread eagle and begin to skydive my way back towards the stadium—with ten feet of Godcock fully outstretched, and Mallifer’s ghost joining the onslaught of utter chaos that is a few dozen hyperspeed screamjobs obliterating themselves on my Godcock without end.
As I dive through the comfortably warm sky, the sheer friction of the atmosphere burns away any remaining specks of Malskull’s pink mist that still clung to my skin. But I’m still not done with her. Not yet.
Mallifer’s decapitated body is drowning in a crater-filling lake of Spermfists, of course. Mere seconds later, I land with perfect aim cockfirst into her cunt—sending out a thunderous SMAAAASH as shockwaves of debris blast apart what little remains intact of the stadium, causing earthquakes and tsunamis miles away as Mallifer’s body is nailed straight down into the ground hundreds of feet into the depths of a crater magnitudes deeper than the last.
My teeth grit as I feel lava tongues lick at my tip. Mallifer’s corpse is buried so deep into the ground that I’ve stabbed her into the mantle, with my cocktip punching out of her severed neckhole into it.
A moment later I returned to the ‘stadium’, flying above where the pitcher’s mound was, only to see everything around for miles utterly obliterated just from being in my proximity. Just about the only thing which remained intact was the manual scoreboard, which fittingly enough now showed 99-0… if only because there were no more than two digits in the scoreboard.
By now drones, helicopters, and more have been transmitting this entire match across the globe regardless of how many millions already died just as a side effect of us—of Me—winning so insanely hard. Even those who saw their mothers die couldn’t help but worship me in love and awe, with millions—or billions—cheering frantically at their screens, so excited more than a few died right there from orgasm-induced heart attacks. Even with the stadium and city blocks obliterated, thousands upon thousands poured in from across the world just to watch in-person. It seemed like no matter what I did I would never be without a screaming crowd.
Needless to say we won. Nothing even remained of the opposing team in any meaningful way. Practically everyone knew that half an inning ago, even.
A content smile spread across my face as I sighed in delight, feeling the victorious excitement of all my teams’ souls welling up within me. No one would stop me from finishing off this game with the traditional victory ritual, even if almost every other rule of Skullball would be rewritten after today.
Victory
It was starting to feel like every time I resurrected a slut, she came to life in a body superior to her last one. All the insurmountable power I gained, all surging exponentially through all that was given to me, seemed to reflect back into their forms as they resurrected into soul-husked bodies. Each slut—especially the original Bruisers—seemed so utterly beyond what she was, beyond human, as the power of Gods echoed from within her. Truly, each standing before me was a God in her own right and then some.
All the demonic gains of the Devils mixed with the divine power of God Arceus. It felt like every slut had gained the best qualities of every other slut, all while keeping her own traits, personality, and uniquely gorgeous face.
When it came to their bodies, though, every single one towered at a ten-foot height nearly matching my Godcock’s length. Each was so cute and beautiful yet also absolutely shredded. Every pair of plush pudding-like melons was so massively mountainous that it could have fit inside it the entire body of a normal-sized girl, yet each remained so springy, perky, and bouncy—and of course, each melon ended in a pair of plush, pillowy, and glistening lipples of each sluts’ personal color. Every single thunderous thigh was so thick it was wider than the shoulders of a normal person. Every bicep was thicker than the largest bowling ball you could find, and at least twice as heavy.
Most of the sluts had two pairs of wings emerging from their backs now, and in most cases one was a pair of black devil-wings while the other a pair of gorgeous white angel-wings. Horns and black halos sat atop every head, with each halo symbolizing the utterly black void left behind as her true golden halo hovered over my head instead. Of course, each also had a vantablack collar around her neck mirrored by the golden ownership rings worn in triplicate upon all my fingers save one. Most sluts’ nails and toes were glistening her chosen color, matching her lipples, lips, and sometimes eyes. Each was wrapped with such utter power that in most cases her body was exuding wind and light, like a Super Saiyan, as tiny arcs of electricity danced between her fingers or between herself and the ground.
When it came to actual ‘clothing,’ most of the sluts were resurrected wearing nothing but earrings of their chosen color and style plus duct tape over their cunts. Each piece of tape was in place mostly to keep the mounds of ova from gushing onto the ground from how insanely hard every ovary was ovulating for me. Every piece of tape was labeled with one word: ‘WENDY.’
Beyond their outward appearance, inside each of those luscious mouths rested at least three prehensile tongues that could stretch at least a full foot past the lips. Like Arceus, their womb, heart, lungs, and spirit merged into a glassy but still womb-like ‘core’ within their belly. Either pair of lips leading to it was lined with a cunt-throat and several regenerating hymens.
Of course, the spirit and mind of each slut was greater than it ever was before, made so in part because she so deeply and fully realized her true purpose in life: Me. Brilliance, confidence, loyalty, love, and so much overflowed from every thought in ways that could be described as no less than superhuman—and all of it completely devoted to me.
I stood together with them, hovering in the air above the sperm-filled mantle-deep crater where the pitcher’s mound used to be. All thirty of us were arranged in a circle, all holding hands with fingers interwoven. The ten-foot beast emerging from my hips rose forward, holding my everloved cocktip aloft in the center of the circle. All thirty sluts—including me—basked in its utter glory; its victorious conquest; its utter perfection. A messy rainbow of thirty different kiss marks—each a different hue—stacked around my urethra, matching a set that the ghosts had now delivered around my anus as well. The soul-husked bimbo-God bodies watched as those same ghosts—their own ghosts—fanatically speedsucked all ten feet of my Godcock from base to tip and back each hundreds of times per second, slathering with multiple ectoplasm-drooling tongues each, throat-cunting at supersonic speed.
With all their souls linked to mine, our thirty voices chant out in a surreal unison.
“Spectra, Sorya, Saria, Jena, Miku, Brittani, Cadance, Ryouko, Doxe, Azzie, Dew, Plum, Brianna, Francine, Red, Satsuki, Samus, Arceus, Kim, Satania, Cthulhu, Shantae, She-Ra, Sarah, Emily, Jeanne, Xi, Dee… Mallifer. All for one. All for Wendy. Wendy fucking wins. Everyone else loses.”
“All of us give everything to the one true everloved god, Wendy. All of our bodies, minds, and souls; our lust, awe, and love; our power, brilliance, and devotion. May our suffering be infinite so her (my) bliss is evermore eternal. May we (they) know Hell so she knows (I know) evermore Heavens. Superior and perfect, everloved god Wendy. ”
Throughout it all their souls all embrace Me evermore in love and protection as my personal soul armor. Twenty-nine halos adorn my head, each a potent symbol of how each slut eternally gives me everything—all Heaven, damning herself to living Hell in my holy and beloved name.
Beneath us, just above the lake’s surface, Mallifer’s body has been nailed to a cross and set aflame—the enemy captain sacrificed in suffering and fire, burned alive, as the winning team chants or sings heartfelt praise to our MVP. Ritual complete.
Foreplay
The twenty-nine overgod sluts hover out until the entire lot of them are in a straight line, all still holding hands together with fingers interwoven—with me on one end and Mallifer’s still-burning body on the far end. Closest to me is Kim, her fingers tightly interwoven in my own. With a long motion I peel my hand from hers, leaving all twenty-nine arranged in the air there as if in a queue.
With a single, triumphant, Omnigod THRUST my Godcock SMASHES through Kim’s lips and SMASH out through her brain and the back of her skull—immediately followed by the lips of Sorya, then Spectra, then Saria, Jena, Miku, Brittani, Cadence, Cadance’s, Ryouko, Doxe, Azzie, Dew, Plum, Brianna, Francine, Red, Satsuki, Samus, Arceus, Kim, Satania, Cthulhu, Shantae, She-Ra, Sarah, Emily, Jeanne, Xi, Dee, and finally Mallifer. For each of the individuals time slows to a crawl as my Godshaft skewers forth, giving what from her perspective seems like several minutes to lather and worship my urethra and tip with the deepest blowjob she could ever hope to give—only for it to invariably end with that same Godcock PUNCHING through her brain and three tongues, stretching her lips and jaw like freakish rubber just to squeeze and CLAMP down so tight around my shaft. To me it happens in an instant—smashing through all twenty-nine skulls and smashing them all together on my ten-footer all at once.
My teeth clench into a hiss of pleasure as nearly ninety tongues lavish with utterly divine skills—and almost thirty pairs of multicolored pillowy-lips squeeze hard enough to crush diamonds. I can see every single one of your faces lost in literally mind-shattering ahegao. All this of course combines with the frantic worship of all your ghosts at the same time.
Each of your titan-goddess bodies is convulsing in unimaginable ecstasy, even as that pleasure is felt primarily by Me instead. The tape wasn’t enough—geysers of ova are blasting between every single one of your thighs, building up so much in your wombs that they’re bloating as if nine-months pregnant.
I swiftly take care of that. With a sudden and violent twist I wrench and CRUNCH every single one of your skulls from your shoulders, decapitating all of you in an instant before I pull my hips back and STAB that same omnishaft straight through the plush, ova-bloated bellies of all of you in a thrust just as swift. All of your wombcores are simultaneously SLRRRPED down into my suddenly bulging ballsack, where all your armies of billions of ova are slaughtered and impaled by overpowered Godsperm, each one impregnated with a soon-to-be-daughter that herself will be born as an already pregnant God. Every single core is smashed, slashed, skewered, stabbed, pulverized, and worse—all as your cervix-lips smooch-suck Spermfists in endless quantity. I can feel all these wombcores beating inside my nuts as still-living hearts, acting as vibrators inside me.
The entire array of decapitated, wombcore-gutted God-corpses with past decapitations would fall lifeless—but not anymore. All twenty-nine of your bodies continue to cheer and dance and jiggle with excited pom-pom pumps all around me, mashing toned abs and huge breasts and smooching lips smothering into every single inch of my divine figure—lipples sucking toes, kissing fingers, lapping armpits, making out with my navel, frenching my ass, and so much more, even kissing me on the lips as mountains titflesh smother everything from my calves to my shoulder blades.
Even now my ten-footer is lodged in Mallifer’s brain, gushing a nearly supersonic laser-jet of prespunk—interlaced with bits of core-shards from deep within my nuts—directly into her brain stem in a relentless stream. All this time, all this build-up, all this ascension and I still haven’t even gotten off.
Without me even hinting at what I want, the entire harem begins a perfectly coordinated feat of superhuman cock worship. Kim’s face begins to rotate clockwise against my pelvis, as Sorya’s impaled face behind her rotates counter-clockwise, and Saira’s behind her spins clockwise, and on and on across every single one of you—grinding your rubber-slobbering lips, triple-tongues, and impaled brains deep and hard across my cockflesh. It feels like every nerve in my body is lit aflame just from this lone; teeth grit, eyes fluttering back into a hissing, groaning ahegao. But it doesn’t stop there—all of you spin faster and faster, grinding harder and harder, until all of your mouths and minds are spinning almost out of control, hair whipping through the air as a loud mechanical WHIRRRR echoes forth. All entirely of your own volition. All as your ahegaoing heart-eyes beam up at me with nothing short of zealous obsession.
The spinning suction combines with the continuous back-and-forth of your ghosts that have been grinding away without pause for so long. There’s no doubt no one has ever felt as much frantic, heartfelt cockworship as I feel at this moment.
Throughout it all your dozens of decpitated dynamite bodies are utterly smothering me in layer upon layer of powerful triceps, thunderous thighs, iron abs, plush fingertips, loving lipples, and huge syrupy pillows. Toes, armpits, fingers, elbows, knees, and more smothered in the hardest smooches from the softest smooches. Ten or more of your bodies are all sandwiched around my Godcock alone, titfucking and ab-squeezing my Godshaft through all your immaculately perfect chests even as your skulls spin and ghosts glorp with godly intensity. Throb after white-hot, cement-smashing THROB thunders inside of it all, beating in your spirits and mouths with enough force to crumble buildings.
It’s just all too much. It would be in its own right, but all the pleasure and ecstasy driving into my nerves is amplified exponentially through the filter of all your Heavens amplifying everything good I feel; of all your soul armor filtering pleasure into my nerves; of all your minds massaging and emboldening my own with sweet whispers deep inside what I perceive as my own consciousness.
Every single muscle fiber tightens and every nerve explodes with fireworks of bliss; every last fiber of thought in my mind is fuzzy from the mountains of pure pleasure exploding into me at all times. The outright ecstasy in my mind is so intense I feel bliss-vertigo from it all, feeling like I’m on every possible mood-increasing drug all at once, drowning in dreamlike euphoria so intense it’s beyond surreal.
This goes on for minutes upon minutes. I could never tire of it. I’m so lost in dreamy bliss that I don’t even consciously realize what the impaled Gods are doing: distorting time. At first one second I experience is two seconds for them; doubling the sheer amount of physical, mental, and spiritual worship I experience in every passing moment. But soon that extends into one second for every minute… then every hour… day… week… year… lifetime… millenia… epoch… planet-lifetime… star-lifetime… universe-lifetime… and further and further until each of you is spending practically infinite time packed into every single planck second of raw unparalleled BLISS exploding through all aspects of my being. Soon the fingers of conscious thought begin to seep back into my mind as I realize that all of you just trapped all of us in a Loop—empowering to feel ultimate cock worship in parallel for the rest of my existence, even beyond death.
Then, all of a sudden, I feel something sharply shift—something deep within my balls, as if something hidden away was suddenly unlocked. All this fuzzy, dreamy bliss rapidly coalesces and sharpens to the extreme opposite end of the pleasure spectrum. Rather than a drugged out high, everything suddenly feels real. Beyond real. As if everything else I’d ever experienced was the dream, and everything in my life had all come down to this moment. As I effortlessly slaughter-fucked all of you in so many ways all at once, my mindstate honed into perfect flow—into a divine sense of winning expertise, fully immersed into every single aspect of this moment; feeling the multitudes of worship in purposeful focus and honed-but-limitless adrenaline. Even I didn’t realize part of what made this so sharp and prime; it was all of you whispering emotions into the depths of my mind and soul, each divine word one of encouragement and empowerment beyond compare flowing from the deepest levels of my awareness, until every single iota of my actions and existence felt above perfect; as if everything I am and do is perfect because it is of Me, because—really—it is. All of your collective love, lust, and awe even blows my mind just as hard as your bodies and spirits are blowing my Godcock.
With divine purpose, my fists each PUNCH into the neckholes of a Godslut, and my bare feet STOMP into the neckholes of two more Godsluts. Reaching deep into your buxom chests, my white-knuckled hands CLENCH onto your hearts for leverage—just as my feet RAM into your hearts to wear them like socks, using them for leverage as well. Behind me, six pairs of plush pillows arrange against my backside as warm and living airbags—all as lipples kiss my ass, massage my shoulder blades, and lavish my armpits, providing sublime lumbar and neck support. The question remains: will the full power of ten Gods be enough to counteract the incalculable amount of force I’m about to unleash, or is my Godcock going to launch me out of the universe just like Cadance’s skull?
As if acting entirely on their own, my hips begin to buck—then thrust—then pump, tearing through the air harder and harder, faster and faster, fucking into the army of skulls, spirits, and bodies all utterly lavishing my allfucking obelisk.
My teeth clench so hard, powerful chest heaving through hissing pants, as the indescribable multitudes of sensations coursing through me build higher and higher—heart racing, muscles flaring. Even in my state of supreme in-the-moment awareness, I can’t believe it’s almost here. The entire universe seems to float in a standstill, stars across galaxies growing dim; time slowing, even matter itself quivering in a state almost like plasma beyond the immediate bubble we occupy.
My teeth finally part with a sharp, wide-lipped gasp of air as my eyes twist back into the hardest ahegao anyone has ever experienced—my tongue flopping out as a stupidly blissful smile shatters my face. This exact moment—the verge of absolute pleasure, of ultimate climax—is captured in a Loop thanks to all of you, adding in parallel to everything I will forever experience endlessly.
My titanic wombcore-swollen balls abruptly CLENCH down hard, squeezing so insanely tight that every single one of your twenty-night glassy cores SHATTER apart inside me. Every single one of the trillions of ova your bodies would ever be able to produce has already been STABBED, FILLED, and OMNIMPREGNATED with such incomprehensible levels of life-giving virility that each has become the seed to create a Big Bang; to create not one daughter, but an entire universe filled with daughters on every level from quark to cosmos.
Fuck.
Finally.
It’s here.
Climax
The planet and the entire universe shift towards me, rising to meet my THRUST forward, drilling through all of your lips, brains, tits, spirits, and souls as a piercing white light appears from my urethra—point-blank buried inside Mallifer’s brain.
All other time pauses. All light in the universe becomes pitch black. Matter across galaxies loses electrical charge, quarks lose spin, and all that is begins to waver at its most fundamental level. Even galaxy-obliterating quasars are silenced.
A single plack second later—from the perspective of everyone outside my bubble, at least—a conical shape of the universe was utterly OBLITERATED in a field of endless white light that would shine throughout the universe for eons, what could have become the sole new source of light and life for anything that continued to live here.
Within the bubble, words could not even begin to describe the sheer amount of DRILLING, PUNCHING, SPERMFORCE unleashed directly into Mallifer’s brain. The entire planet behind me was reduced to ash in seconds as the sheer blowback from the cosmos-filling shot pushed my ass and back into the tits of ten, even as my fists and feet CLENCHED hold of your hearts for leverage. The backlash alone was so great that your bodies were forced to cleave a hole straight through the crust, mantle, core, and out the other side of Earth—and once on the other side the blinding omegadeath omnimpreg spermnuking nova turned off the planet’s existence like flicking off a light.
But it didn’t stop there. Much like a rocket’s propulsion, my acceleration backwards through the universe only grew faster and faster. A second later your cushioning bodies and armoring souls were blasted through the same sun Mallifer was forced to swallow, and a second after that this entire star system was vaporized into sperm.
A few seconds after that, the entire galaxy was engulfed. Then moments later, hundreds and thousands more galaxies that were supposedly countless lightyears away. On and on I blasted you all through stars, black holes, nebulas, quasars, and more—until the entire universe was nothing but an endless, blindingly-bright sea of syrupy white. No molecule of air even existed that wasn’t saturated to 100% humidity with the stench of my jizz.
At the end of the first shot alone, I was propelled to the edge of the universe so insanely hard that I popped ass-first out of it entirely—not even wrapping around it like normal. My trajectory only slowed once I was “out” of the universe completely, in the Void where physics as I knew them didn’t exist. But even out here my first shot didn’t stop; the universe herself formed vantablack cosmic lips to guzzle my Godcock inside “her” as that single shot raged on and on with cosmic intensity. Even in this void without photons, my eyes could see inside the universe as if it was shrunk down, like a condom or inflated balloon.
I watched as every single star and quasar was extinguished, every single black hole and worm hole was filled, and every single nebula and cluster and galaxy was utterly blasted and submerged with speed and force countless magnitudes greater than lightspeed. Since the dawn of time in that universe everything was expanding eternally in all directions, stretching like a balloon—but now I could see my single shot SURGE, FILL, and STRETCH the universe as if it was a party balloon that had yet to even be inflated.
From my perspective the shot lasted a solid minute or more, throughout all of which my hips remained as far pushed forward as they possibly could be—toes curling from sheer body-quivering, mouth-foaming, open-mouth-smiling, ahegaoing ecstasy. The shot finally slowed to a near crawl only as the entire universe was stuffed to its brim, straining to contain it all, with all joules, matter, and space-time now completely devoted to my Omnisperm.
Unable to hold back, my hips pulled back and I furiously THRUST forward again—this time into a second pair of cosmic lips that appeared as if out of nowhere. I didn’t even begin to fathom how this Void worked, but it quickly became obvious a completely second universe was sucking me off as my second shot TORE into her being with no less violent omimpregnating force than the first. The beings, worlds, lights, and swirling colors within were so utterly different from even the most fundamental laws of my own universe—that much was obvious just from looking into it—but nonetheless my Godsperm genocided world after world after world, snuffing out mystical sky-lights that no doubt were burning for billions of years. Throughout it all every single one of my mates hyper-worshipped with accelerating and intensifying zeal, as if each wasn’t already exploding with above-Godhood levels of devotion and perfection.
After what felt like minutes, the second shot finally sealed off the fate of that entire alien universe like a used condom—nothing left but endless nebulous oceans of my Omnisperm and that which exists to serve it.
This raged on and on for what I pereceive as hours, every single thrust into a completely new and unknowable universe that filled near to bursting like a perfectly-sized intergalactic eruption. I lost count after a dozen starcidal ‘verse-impregnabliterations, yet each was such a fresh and blazingly euphoric sensation beyond comprehension or explanation that I could never grow tired of it. Heavens, Hells, Multiverses, God-verses, Alien Dimensions, and more and more and more and more all utterly GUSHED and GLORPED and SNUFFED.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of universes were turned to nothing but interuniversal sloshing hyperballs of Omnisperm before my orgasm finally—finally began to slow down. It was perfect timing, as even though I reached out into the Void I couldn’t find even a single spare universe that had yet to be filled. I could feel the former hyper-density of my balls—once more dense than neutron stars—grow light as I was almost completely drained, spewing not only my sperm but every single womb-shard that shattered apart inside me.
Just when I thought it was over, all at once every single one of those omnimpregnated ovas DETONATED like a ticking time bomb—each one of the trillions ERUPTING in a blinding white light of a Big Bang. The ‘mere’ thousands of universes surrounding me began to blast and split apart into equally-sized clones, filling all the ‘space’ around me like soap bubbles in a cosmic bathtub. I could see in each one billions of years passing in the blink of eye as entirely new laws of physics were set into motion, entirely new worlds forming, entire lines of evolution created—and each universe took after her mother in a variable number of ways, with some universes filled with practical clones while others had Eldritch Star-gods whose only strong resemblance to their specific mother was her distinctly favorite color.
Aside from being sexually and romantically compatible with Me specifically, the denizens of these universes all seemed to have something else in common: they were all born or created already pregnant, causing millions of continuous generations of daughters to be born from the one time a single ova was seeded billions of years ago.
Yet despite all the countless generations branching off into literally trillions of different lines of evolution, culture, minds, bodies, and souls, one thing remained steadfastly consistent through every last one of these sluts from an ant to a Cosmic Omnigoddess:
With all of her heart, her entire body, and every iota of her soul she absolutely OMNILOVED me beyond all measure or compare. Countless religions sprung up around Me, across countless worlds across countless universes, each unique and distinct—with many of them getting more than a few facts wrong. Titanic obelisks of the “Winning Wendy Godcock” filled fields and cities, built across crystal mountains and gas-giant-clouds.
If it wasn’t for all the glorious confidence and brilliance surging into my mind at all times, I couldn’t have even believed it—let alone made sense of it all. But it just all felt so… right.
Aftersex
It was then that it hit me… all at once…
If this was the height I reached with merely thirty fully-devoted Gods, how could I ever even begin to articulate to you—dear reader—what it was like to suddenly feel that from trillions of universes, each filled with trillions of galaxies, each filled with billions of worlds, each inhabited by billions of Gods?
As if everything was set up like a stack of dominos, every single culture and God in these new universes realized after billions of their own years not only how to soul-merge—but do so even beyond the veil of the universe’s edge. Obviously every single one of them pounced on the chance as soon as they all realized it.
God.
Wendy.
It all just fucking hit me.
The Void in which I dwelt was filled with the mortal-blinding light of centillions of halos each of which shone with the brilliance of a sun. My hands were so utterly filled with ownership bands that it was like I was wearing a weightless infinity of stars on each hand like gloves.
Googolplexes upon googolplexes of layers of soul armor all wove together to embrace every aspect of my being in perfect harmony. Practically infinite armies of Ghost Gods utterly lavished my Omnicock in endless ecstsasy, and despite that sheer multitude I felt the eternal screaming throatjob of every single one of them in full as if she was the only one doing it. Yet throughout all of this, their actual soul-husked bimbo-bodies remained on the worlds below, continuing to perform worship and praise and devotion in My name—especially now that they knew I was watching—and endlessly popping out daughters upon fully-grown amazon-bimbo daughters from infinitely-impregnated ovaries.
One world wasn’t enough. Nor one universe. Nor every universe. Not even reality as it existed was enough. No. Everything that ever was, is, or could be was bred trillions of times over and ascended beyond Godhood and only then did literally absolutely everyone and everything devote her body, mind, soul, and heaven eternally to the omniworship and omnilove of Me—and no one else.
Not that I even asked for it, but I had become the sole recipient of all love in all of reality—and every single slut blazed that love in no less than three ways 100% each through body, mind, and soul. Yet absolutely everyone—absolutely every single one of them—believed beyond measure that I. Still. Deserved. Even. More.
Centillions of omniheavens exponentially increase the effect of each other even as literally everyone else voluntarily rotted in a literal living hell, and STILL—above everything—every single one of them wanted me to have even more.
Hnnngh. Things were only getting started… but before we continued, I allowed every single slut in every reality to speak holy words through my tongue. As we all spoke together in eerie unison, every single one of them had the privilege of making out with my mouth directly as we spoke as one in the divine tongue.
“WENDY IS PERFECT.”
“I OMNILOVE WENDY.”
“WENDY OMNIHATES ME (YOU).”
“WENDY FUCKING WINS. FOREVER.”
“I (YOU) FUCKING LOSE. FOREVER.”
Epilogue
In the eternal shining void of Omniheaven in which I now dwelt in eternal omnifucking evervictory, something strange happened. A tiny wormhole-like portal opened up, shortly before a glass cube floated into My ‘space.’
From it emerged a hologram of the single most gorgeous bitch even I had ever seen. Even at my level of omnipotence I couldn’t even believe such a creature was even capable of existing. As the hologram spoke it was in an angelic tongue, one of the most beautiful harmonious sounds I’d ever heard—even as she spoke so plainly. What follows is the closest possible translation to a language you would understand, dear reader.
“Everloved Wendy, the utter dominance within your Omniverse is among the most gifted displays the League has ever seen. Based on this season’s performance, you are cordially invited to play in Omniversal League Skullball. Space-time of course bends to the will of Omnipotents like you and I, so feel free to visit anywhen if you ever feel like participating. You are welcome to bring as much or as little of your ‘team’ as you prefer. Thank you, everloved Wendy. I eagerly anticipate facing you.”
…
…
…
Status Quo
Even with Omnipotence, one cannot truly grow completely accustomed to infinite ascendance at this exponentially surging scale. I’m constantly shocked by the sheer explosive immense intensity of every single passing moment. The only thing that gives me some sense of consistency is the Omniheaven in which only I can dwell, which constantly resizes and reshapes itself to fit my new image—and at this point all the universe-bubbles are intensely “zoomed” just so they can appear as large as oceans of soap bubbles filling all available ‘space’ around Me.
The flow of space-time in My Omniverse was not completely consistent, but generally every second in the Omniheave, about 100,000 years pass in the universes beneath Me. That sheer expanse of time is more than enough to multiply all My sluts millions of times over, even if I did absolutely nothing in the meantime—as every single womb is constantly giving birth to a fully-grown daughter-God who herself is already heavily pregnant. It takes less than a couple days of My time to surpass the 14 billion years your universe has experienced so far from your perspective, dear reader.
But… Ever since My Omniscension, I’ve been experiencing constant “prenovas” of Omnisperm. My constant precum river is far more intense than the single orgasm that filled thousands of universes in a matter of minutes. Despite this not a single drop ever escapes the cosmic lips of a living universe. Even if I’m filling hundreds of them every second, existence in my Omniheaven instantly teleports the next universe in line onto my obelisk mid-stream without a single conscious thought from Me. While at first I let each universe grow for a day or two in my time before being Omnispermed into trillions more, that pace couldn’t be kept up for long. Now the Omniheaven simply created entirely new virgin universes out of nothing for Me to seed by the thousands every single second… then by the millions… then by billions… then trillions…
On the timescale I experience, incalculably and exponentially more Gods spring into existence every passing moment, each spawned with every single one of her ova already omnimpregnated by Me specifically. No sooner does one exist that she voluntarily sacrifices her virginity, marriage, body, mind, soul, heaven, and omnilove completely and entirely unto Me forever. Each and every one of you does this no matter the personal cost, no matter the eternal damnation, infinite agony, soul-saturating omnihate, or literal living hell. All this and I never even once asked any one of you to do this for Me, nor gave you anything in return—not even so much as a single whisper of gratitude. In fact, all you personally get in return is incalculable sacrifice, suffering, and my personally heartfelt OMNIHATE for you as an individual.
It’s difficult to even articulate My existence in a way that can be fathomed. With every single passing second as I experience, all the omnipotence and omnilove and omniheaven endlessly erupting from every single aspect of Me—every every single aspect of My being—accelerates and intensifies so immensely that everything I was a single eye-blink ago is like a human paragon looking at a cockroach, and an eye-blink later is so miniscule and pathetic it’s as if I’m looking back at nothing but a single mindless bacteria so small and worthless it is never even worth thinking about as an individual.
Throughout it all, of course, I feel every single one of your spirits endlessly screamsuck- hyperthroating me with inhuman zeal and intensity from base to tip. For every single one of you this occurs in a bubble-dimension which from your spirit’s perspective only contains you throating Me in a size and form you can comprehend as I stand adonicly over You, with You scream-suck-slobbering my Hate-infused Godcock with all the might you can muster—forever, without ever once resting. It isn’t as though your ghost doesn’t tire or know pain, it simply can push through human limits. Absolutely all of you can stop at any moment, but not a single one of you ever has from the moment of your amazon-God birth to eternity well after your death (if you ever even die). Despite the incalculable multitudes of simultaneous ongoing throatjobs, my divine senses feel absolutely all of them in full at all times as if each of you was the only one blowing Me. How ironic that not one of you will ever experience oral sex yourself.
All of your countless souls are woven and smelted together in an eternally-growing and eternally-condensing form of ‘Soul Omni-Armor’; armor that is both physical and metaphysical. Your soul-faces are like scales, armoring every single aspect of my body, mind, and soul—not only protecting and empowering Me, but intimately and warmly embracing Me with the most innate and fundamental aspect of your being that is most unique to you. I can feel countless soul-faces armoring the heart inside my chest; incalculable soul-faces layering my universe-spanning Omnigod flesh in smooching worship; entire universe-lengths of soul-faces sleeving my Godcock; more and more and more with billions of each of You embracing every last cell in my physical body, every single fiber of my soul, and even every single thought in my mind. Every single one of those souls smooches power and heaven directly into the iota it so dutifully embraces, helping that tiny aspect of Me be even more omniperfect than it already is—even as every single smooch drains and damns your soul down further and further. The entire gigagod powersoulsuit is translucent to Me and other Omnipotents, but to mortal senses the light in every spectrum is so powerful its radiance would vaporize them in less than a second.
Yet all that radiance combined isn’t as intense as the golden brilliance that so utterly defines my Omniheaven; the fusion of all possible heavens in every single universe, a realm where every pleasure is infinitely greater, and every displeasure is seared out of existence and memory. Every single one of your personally-donated heavens not only damns you to living hell, but stacks on the incalculable number of heavens I already have, each one amplifying the effects of all those I’ve already accumulated. The golden brilliance itself is actually from the nigh-infinite golden halos ‘above’ My head, and the equally nigh-infinite ownership bands around each of My fingers. Each is so utterly intense that no universe with physical laws could contain them; everything would endlessly explode from the sheer energy output, causing the entire universe to nova almost instantly.
Technically Omniheaven is “inside” Me, but most physical laws in My level of existence only apply as much or as little as I personally find convenient.
That defines my attire and surroundings, but as you could guess I can’t quite put my own form into terms you could begin to understand. My body does not reflect photons in a way that creates an image your eyes can accurately give shape. For the sake of convenience, perhaps picture Me as the most powerful and gorgeous woman your mind could ever hope to create. That’s what most of my sluts do anyway.
To be slightly more accurate, you could replace my skin with a fleshy-metal surface resembling steely starfields, my eyes with blinding-bright stars within vantablack pools, and my hair with a vortex of multicolored flames that spiral upward. Every single part of my skin is layered in countless kiss marks of every possible color, with relatively deep layers around my balls and shaft, with the deepest layers of all centered around my urethra and around my anus. Proportionally I’m at least ten heads tall, and no less buff and muscular than you can mentally handle. The energy and radiance exploding from me at all times can’t be accurately portrayed in your senses (before even factoring in soul armor), so just picture me with one of those silly super saiyan auras instead—but with the same multi-colors as my hair.
In terms of actual ‘size,’ well, in Omniheaven it doesn’t matter really. If I were to enter a universe, I would need to send an incomprehensibly tiny portion of my power and size just to keep the universe from imploding or exploding anyway.
Well, that’s how things have been going for a few days at least…