Authored by xSini
Pillows cradled the heads of bloated rubbers. More of such surrounded Mid, depressing the mattress with their jiggling, gyring bulks; but he was still going. Still stroking his body-pillow-thick, though half as long, dick.
Huffing, puffing steam.
He was—but mostly I mean the condoms.
The fumes they emitted fogged windows, the humidity at butterfly enclosure levels.
Condensation dripped off the screen of his desktop he didn’t actually know the case of had been made from a recycled genie lamp. Copper and bronze alloy trimmed the—well, anyway, his chest ached in his sweaty, pantsless tux, and he was about to make a wish.
“I wish… t-to have the most intense orgasm anyone has ever nutted.”
Would the black cat have wished that, had he known the most intense orgasm ever to have been nutted had been so by a gigantic fertility god?
Yes.
The spirit inside of his Dell had been waiting for just this type of accident.
“WISH GRANTED.”
1
Although the mortal did not hear the reverberating voice inside of that soundproofed container, he DID feel a funny tingle dart down his neck, swish his cord-like tail. He DID feel the fur on his cheeks puff, for his balls rumbled louder in his lap—churned with greater ethic than they’d had even before his first nut. “U-uooah—I think it’s working,” came his glad cry as they tautened and boiled, burgeoning from the size of jack o’ lanterns before spilling over his spread thighs and smothering them. His meat bucked, begging to be the outlet through which he released his increasing volume of cat spunk. SHLRcK SHLIIk shlILk shlch sHLHhh! He obliged; beat the big, sweaty dick with a two-pawed clutch. “Come on, buddy… g-grow, just like your siblings!” The uncut giant twitched in obeyance, blimping fatter alongside the middle and thumping, wagging longer, harder. Leaking so much slippery spooge that foamed, frothed, spewed ivory along his bedsheets until a towel used at Seaworld would have been substantially dryer. The burn of his loins reached extremes that had choked him up. Panting, he implored, “C-c-c-come OOnn… m-m-M-mrrWWWooOOOaaaaoo!” One last stroke and he rocked his head back against the central pillow, pure astonishment and ravishing on his face. His cock lurched, chugged. Belched a spool of cum and another, each rope as thick as a dreadlock arcing as high as the backboard of the bed. SpluRbrubuck! —a SplUbuBubUlrb-ach! came the feedback from the floorboards. He moaned, kept rocking*.* Purring. Head reeling to a profile that drooled into his pillow. His foot kicked at the cord that was his renegade tail. SPuUUuRCch! SPuUUuRCch! SPuUUuRCch! Each cumshot, each buck of his cathood, made it extend a half-inch longer; fatten centimeters thicker. A vein forked devilishly along that growing, gushing member. “HuUh… yeEEa-YEAH! THAT was r-Rrrwrl-Really good,” chirred Mid, the silly cat feeling as though he’d be done cumming in a dozen more shots, after his 40-second binge…. But at about 45, the orgasm dropped the pretense of waning—reignited.
His cumslit gurgled—yawned wider. Belched stronger, higher arches that crashed a foot farther, a foot-and-a-half—two feet, a fourth shot SPLEP-SPLHP-SPLICKkp-schPLpep-PLIIIiiepch-ing all over his monitor and PC desk. “Ughnnnn-oh-ah…” Shuddering, Mid—now, with his blue-tied tux and face besmirched with smears of cum continuing to fleck and spray—extracted his cat-claws. He drove into the sheets; squirmed with each throe of pumping out the paint paws-free. “Ngghg-aah-aeeuuggh pl-please work tom-mh-m-mmmorrow,” he murmured about his PC. An entire fucking border of cum now sobbed, bubbled down the wall behind the soaked screen. The zinging ropes of seed progressed to beams in thickness. The sheer force of each jolt and the ensuing shudders of the felid shook the bed; wobbled and sloshed the surrounding rubbers. He breathed in through his nostrils a world of scent being remade in a godlier, godlier image: bit back an insane grin, the rubbers starting to slide off the oil-slick deluge of cat cum on the bed, backblasts bombing the nightstand. Furnishings. Painting the bed and every locality white, MARKING them. Soaking them in his delicious, musky scent that increased! That thickened the air into a… a beverage of balls and cock! His!
As he dumped out liter after liter; as he breathed in his unguent, each one of his cock’s backward gulps came with a stronger buckling of his body. Goliath heartbeats pounded his entire being until he could hear rumbling in his ears—feel rumbling in his bones—REALIZING that HE, TOO, was growing! “U-aaah-n-no-no f-FUCKing way, m-m-mMhhm-m… mM-MRraOooOOoOWwwwwwwwwwwwwwooooooooo—” From just an inch over 6 feet, he had throbbed to 6-foot-1, 6-foot-2, 6-foot-*3—*all the way to 6-foot-4. And he was STILL GROWING. Bed shaking, slumping more under his bulk. Groans deepening, the enlarging cat cummed his way to 6-foot-5, 6-foot-6… 6-foot-8… growing FASTER, QUAKIER. His cock and balls, as though jealous, shuddered; began undergoing another phase of adult puberty, his weight-bowed cock lurching a handspan longer; thickening beyond the span of his tuxedoed chest; belching gallons at the immediate wall that had mostly been engulfed. Issuing a monstrous burble his balls adapted—burgeoned, further producing, looming—spilling over the twin bed’s either side. Springs whimpered, further oppressed by the enlarging bulk of the kitty who pulsed to 7 feet—7-foot-4—7-foot-8—8-foot- 2, 8-8—9-3— TUOH- SbPLAWbSCH! Cum (from the cum pond) grenaded around the mattress of the cat who grew vigorously over the foot of the bed. His feet splashed and ankles spilled into the tarry pool of sweltering, bubbling spunk—especially now that apparently his bedframe had busted; dropped the bed, turning it to a malfunctioned canoe. The bed attempted to surge: to lift, float, drift a couple of times, encouraged by the jostles, the upheavals, of the roiling cum around; but, mostly, it would sink into what rose to 7 inches; what spilled, toasty and slippery, over his arms, legs and bare chest (that had, long ago, shredded the tux). What came from his cock that, with another LURCH, pressurized into a full-fledged fire hose.
Bawled loudly the cat. Voice pitching another octave—another octave, and another, deeper. 10 FEET TALL (“THUMP-THUMP,” his heart)—11 FEET TALL (THUMP THUMP)—12 (THUMP THUMP)—13—
Squirming, struggling—
QUAKING with each spurt
He CLENCHED his teeth—reeled BACK as he embiggened—
Bones POPPED, CRACKED, SNAPPED as his size vaulted out of the league of domesticated cats, becoming something that would intimidate jaguars and lions. The sloppy GLUG-SPLWSH-GSlpPslshw-Pap-PAwwGPLSSsshUSsh of his seed dumping into the apartment below resounded—his own room rumbling—floorboards creaking, walls distending in the likeness of a bloating rubber. From the yawning gaps between brick and beam, leaked hundreds of gallons of cum.
SPLI-TACHACHCAHCACHC!
“Whaaaaaaagg… oohhh… fuuuuuU~”
Floorboards SHOUTED. HATCHED beneath the weight of him and his cum lake.
Wauling, he, his bed, and the jiggling torrents of cum crashed into the kitchen of his neighbor.
His bed chopped a dinner table like a WWE prop. The giant cat on top of it landed where supper had been washed away to the gasp of a gowned wife—who, presently, was washed away too (into the living room).
But he couldn’t—c-couldn’t focus on that—still BLOWING!
Blowing a load that fracked right through the sink (as well as the dish washer and the wall behind).
The cum erupted from a brand new orifice onto the urban residential street, dousing cars with washes they’d never asked for.
14 FEET—15 FEET—16 FEET TALL— Beneath him the floor gave—and the next floor; and the next—and the next, until the complex buckled from a heavy fall on ground level. The exterior rumbled before, like a shoddy rubber, BURSTING out from a burgeoning pea-seam at the bottom.
Tumbling to the street, the giga-cat *“MreEEEoOoooOOooOW~”-*ed, mowing back cars. Huffing, puffing. Squirming out his orgasm right in the center of a lane—much to honks and screams. 18 ½ FEET… 20 FEET… 21 1/2 FEET… (THUMP-THUMP, THUMP THUMP!)
2
Delirious with pleasure, the kitty cannonaded the concrete street, splatters from his lurching megalith accumulating until the sloping concrete had become a cum slide. Windshield wipers got gunked into place, trying to wipe away what now covered vehicles like parasols cover pale women. A half-inch of cum burped, gargled, steamed up from the frames of traffic and glued up gutters. But it was never enough—it was never enough cumming to beat the production, the BOIL—the EXPAND of his balls. And he needed a taste! “MmHhgg—mrr… mrrrr—!” With effort, Mid had bent the tip of his quaking cat-peen close to his mouth… but failed to get the vascular blimp arched enough to suck himself… until, with a quake, it… BENT of its own volition! No—not its: his! He could steer it, if he willed it, this prehensile megalith. And so he focused: drove it as he would an arm, or a leg, and then “Mrraaa-OOLlPp—ULLmmMMpp~!” Lodged it in his jaws.
Moaning, he chugged it. Stroked out those wads that blimped his cheeks; that reprised at the neck before ballooning his belly that, just as quickly, contracted, absorbing the load; causing every growth spurt to metastasize.
With appalled cries, people jerked open car doors to vacate, many doors requiring much effort, due to being glued at the seams by giant kitty cum. Even as he sucked his column-sized member, the overflow continued to deluge down the sides of his sucking maw; to wash shoes and socks in surges, waves, spilling over, across the sidewalks.
“Fuck, it,” said a dog who was, in Mid’s eyes, kobold-sized. He threw off his leather jacket, unzipped his pants, then granted his own wish, which was to fap to the giant, growing house cat, no longer giving a fuck about the public opinion, since this very well may be the apocalypse or its origin story. As the cat’s balls loomed and rumbled—grew from the peaks of truck roofs and bodega signs to the floors of second storeys—the pedestrian beat this quick one, like a hammer, before letting out a groan that the towering balls totally cancelled out with their boiling rumbles, blowing a little drop into the overflowing barrel that was Tourniquet Street.
“MmrrggghhhWWWwwlll… I-I-I can feel another one coming,” the giga-kitty purred… by which he meant another fucking spurt.
He quivered—seized up! Spasmed to 32, 33, 34, 35 feet tall—the rumbling reverberations, and moans, that deepened to subway levels, much to the mounting horror of everyone.
“Scramble!” cried one; cried as the giga-cat’s body pulsed again, his big-beaned paws buckling into—pinwheeling—cars like they were sold by Mattel.
“Duck for cover!” cried another.
“Call FEMA!” a third.
But the bangs of shoulders into brick high-rises ensured that two landlords, without immediate action, would not be passing OSHA inspections.
All one could realistically do, though, to pass through this, unscathed? Unseminated?
Was to wish he didn’t grow any bigger.
And that wish?
Was at a lack of a desktop genie.