It had taken him a while, longer than he had thought, but Cody had finally managed to make a habit of it.
Every day — or rather, almost every day, to be entirely honest — he'd slip into his sweatpants and some cheap t-shirt once he came home from work, put on his running shoes and go out to make his round. At first, he had felt exhausted after just a few minutes, but by now, he had enough stamina to reach the park, jog through it and back, take a little pause to recuperate (when he felt especially accomplished, he'd reward himself with a bear's claw or a donut from that bakery), and then return home, all while keeping his pace.
Cody had reason to be proud. In those last few months, he had managed to shed those nasty pounds he had gained over the winter, and had returned to the slender physique he had once had as a teen. It certainly felt good to be skinny again, though he still saw ample room for improvement concerning his body. Some muscles on his arms would make him more masculine and attractive, he thought, and a nice set of abs would easily counterbalance his weirdly broad hips and utter inability to grow hair on his chest. He knew that if he wanted to devote himself to any of those specifics, he'd first have to build a solid fundament and improve his condition, and then he'll be ready to go.
He wasn't that interested in the dubious shortcuts some people swore by, not ready to waste money on protein powders or any other shady food supplements, but Cody was certain that hydration was a central factor in his progress. He diligently filled up his bidon before going out, knowing that he'll sweat it out during his exercise. One warm spring afternoon, he had already quenched his thirst with about a litre of diet coke while at work, and by the time he had crossed through the park once, his bladder felt close to bursting.
Cody's first thought was simply to step behind some sheltering tree and let nature take its course, but even though the park was unusually poorly attended for such a nice day, the anxiety of being seen held him back. Fortunately, there was a public restroom not far off, a small building half-hidden among the bushes and overgrown with ivy. Almost too pretty for an outhouse, Cody thought as he hurried inside.
The facilities weren't as grimy as he had expected, though a number of graffitis had been smeared across the tiles — some childishly vulgar, some almost creative, many too faded to say much about. Cody positioned himself before the second urinal on the left, pulled down his sweatpants, and let go. At first, he simply groaned at the pleasure of the release, closing his eyes and wiping the sweat-drenched curls of auburn hair out of his boyishly pretty face.
Looking down, Cody saw yet another aspect of his body that he'd like to improve, though this would be far more difficult than loosing weight or gaining muscles. On the positive side, his cock was a good five inches when fully erect, uncut and with a nice thickness, but totally flaccid like this, it seemed like a pitiful little thing, a short and narrow trunk among his not-too-ample pubic hair, and propped up by similarly average testicles. He often told himself that size didn't matter, or at least that it wasn't everything, yet these phrases often felt like little more than wishful thinking.
At the edge of his vision, he saw someone else entering the restroom. Although there were multiple free urinals and empty stalls, the stranger walked straight up to Cody's position and took the one right next to him. The young man felt slightly annoyed, but held on to the most fundamental rule of restroom etiquette and kept his eyes to himself.
Well, almost. He couldn't help but throw a quick glance to his left, and what he saw left him staring open-mouthed.
No other jogger in sweatpants stood there, nor some denim-clad workman of the type that often came by here, but a girl about Cody's age. She wore a plaided skirt and a stylish white blouse that had been buttoned-up to accommodate her impressive bust, yet it weren't her breasts that enthralled him so. With a desultory movement, she lifted her skirt and revealed the, without the slightest inkling of doubt, biggest cock Cody had ever seen.
Sometimes he felt inadequate when sharing a locker room with those good-looking athletes proudly displaying their above average endowments, and understandably intimidated by the comically oversized cocks of male porn actors — but that thing vastly out-shadowed both. Seeming so incredibly incongruous with the rest of the girl's body and her nigh-hairless crotch, yet somehow strikingly natural at the same time, it was longer than Cody's forearm and thicker than his water bottle. And as incomprehensible as the thought seemed to him, the stranger's cock was entirely flaccid.
Beneath it, a scrotum the size of a handball hung down like a church bell, bulky and tight as if barely managing to contain the pair of gargantuan testicles inside. Even now, light ridges suggested thick veins marbling the colossal shaft, while the glans was almost entirely covered by meaty foreskin, leaving only a narrow circle of puce meat exposed. Cody felt an icy shower paralysing him, rushing though his veins and gnawing on his bones, and for a moment he thought he might pass out…
Something dashed towards his face and struck him with astonishing force, causing burning pain to smart his cheek, nose, and lips. The next hit, following so quickly that had barely comprehended the slap, struck him against the chest — a more than powerful blow that swept him of his feet and made him fear for the integrity of his ribs. Cody landed on his posterior, unable to breathe for a few seconds, yet he still instinctively pulled up his sweatpants as he looked up to face his attacker.
From this involuntary new perspective, the girl's breasts looked even bigger, a pair of sizeable mounds jutting from her chest. The face looming above them would have been pretty under other circumstances, but now its mien was stern and full of something right between anger and disgust; framed by inky black hair that was cut to fringes over her forehead and falling to her shoulders at the sides. Her emerald eyes stared down at him with almost unbearable intensity.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you little pervert?", she said in a surprisingly calm, yet merciless voice.
"I-I just-I di-didn't want-want to…", Cody stammered, his lips twitching in fear. As much as he tried, he just couldn't help but stare at that monstrous column of meat that even now peaked out from under the girl's skirt.
"God, freaks like you are the worst", she spat back, every word as harsh and heavy as a bullet.
"Who do you think you are to creep up on me and gawk at my cock like you've never seen one before? Well, d'you like what you see? Want a closer look, you damn creep?".
Before Cody could react, the girl gyrated her hips to the left, only to turn back with a rapid movement, causing her cock to swing out like a flail and strike the young man's face with devastating force. Lights flashed before his eyes and pain shot through his entire skull, as the hit sent him sprawling onto the unclean floor. For a moment, he just lay there motionless and dizzy, barely aware of the blood now dripping from his nose. Right before him, a horrifying transformation was taking place.
The girl's cock, already grotesquely oversized the moment he had first espied it, had begun to grow. It seemed so absurd, so unlike anything he had ever seen on his own or someone else's body, that it reminded him more of a time-lapse of bamboo sprouting from some documentary he had once watched. Defying all logic, the monstrous thing rapidly gained both length and girth, pulling back its foreskin to expose the plumb-coloured glans, as big as a ripe mango. Along the shaft, angry veins began to jut out of the hardening flesh, some as thick as his thumb.
Cody was close to being paralysed by fear, faced with something so far beyond what he would have thought possible. There was no way of knowing what would happen next, how big this impossible thing would ultimately become, if there even was a limit to its unnatural growth. Arduously, he picked himself up, seeing with horror that the cock had long passed the girl's knees and stuck out from her thighs at a flat angle — and that she was gazing down at him with a horrible smirk.
"Damn, now you've made me horny", she said.
"Well, usually, I wouldn't lift a finger for some pathetic little freak like you, but I'm not gonna go out like this. So you better open your mouth, because I wouldn't be so gentle if I had to do it myself".
Cody's battered brain could barely comprehend these words. He sat on the cool tiles with eyes wide open, shaking with fear. A lithe yet muscular hand reached out and painfully grabbed his sweat-soaked hair, roughly pulling him forward, closer to the girl's impossible endowment — rushing towards him like an oncoming train, until the gargantuan mass of her engorged cockhead seemed to fill his entire field of vision. He could feel the deadly heat emanating from it, smell the musky odour worse than the dirtiest locker rooms he had ever been in, and sensed, in no way that he could explain or even comprehend, the overwhelming virility it represented.
Cody winced as the leathery surface first touched his smooth lips, tasting the strangely salty and bitter tang — then jerked, as much as he could, in stark pain as the girl thrust her hips forward and forced his teeth apart. His jaw was being brutally pried open and ached awfully, while his lips felt like they would tear any moment at the devastating girth of the invader. He tried to scream, but not the least sound escaped from his stuffed throat.
Almost gently, she began to inch in more of her member, and Cody thought that his jawbone would snap in half when the tip of her cockhead pushed against the back of his throat. Through teary eyes he looked forward, and his half-dazed mind realised with horror that the vast majority of this unnatural cock still separated him from the girl's crotch. The immense pain and exertion soon caused the lower half of his face to go numb, but that pain soon re-appeared further down in throat, as the bulky glans travelled past his pharynx and right into his oesophagus, making him feel as if his entire gullet was about to burst. While Cody suffered so awfully, the girl kept smirking and licked her cherry-red lips, appearing to quite enjoy the torture she was inflicting.
The strain pushed the boy's body to its absolute limits, and while more and more limb-thick cock passed his drum-tight lips, it not only made his gullet bulge obscenely, like a pelican swallowing a large fish, but also compressed his trachea from the inside. Breathing rapidly in utter panic, Cody soon began to feel like he couldn't get any air into his lungs, and a thought started to rise above the chaos of his disordered mind.
This is how I die.
A paradoxical calmness overcame him. Darkness began to encroach on the edges of his field of vision, until only a narrow window remained — showing the girl's awful, monstrous, beautiful face. Soon, this faded to blackness too, and with his eyes involuntarily turning upward, Cody became consciousness. His muscles lost any tension, and his body was held upright only by the steel-hard column that remained stuffed in his throat.
Seeing this, the girl's smirk turned into a frown, and with a sigh, she pushed the heel of her hand against the unconscious boy's forehead and slowly shoved him down her cock. With a wet squelch, her cockhead popped out of the strained mouth, and the unsupported body slumped down limply like a disregarded rag-doll. A putrid mixture of drool, precum, blood, tears, snot, and other fluids covered both a section of her still-erect member and his distorted face, while some also dripped on the tiles between them. Only now was the inhuman size of her member fully visible, so much of which had been forced into the virgin depths of Cody's body, while an even more horrifying amount remained untouched…
"Fuck", she hissed, "you'd think that a fit young guy like you could take more than some dainty little high-school girl, but you weakling passed out within a few minutes. And I didn't even get to cum, Goddamn!".
Looking down at the sprawled boy before her, and his distorted, yet somehow still pretty face, mouth agape, she fished her phone out of her handbag and began to scroll though and endless sequence of unread messages, most of them filled with saucy emojis, expletives in all caps and countless exclamation marks.
"Huh", she said while biting her lip, "I guess I'll have to let it all out on the next hole I get my hands on. Won't be as gentle as I've been with you, little freak. I almost feel sorry for them".
The girl put her phone down, and a wolfish grin showed on her face.
"Well, almost".
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna leave you here on the cold floor for everyone to see", she said. Grabbing Cody's shoulder, she dragged the unconscious boy into a stall, where she placed him right next to the toilet bowl. By then, her cock had deflated enough to be almost covered by her plaid skirt, though the obscene bulge between her thighs was still obvious.
"You know, earlier, when you stared so…insouciantly at my cock, you kept me from pissing. I'm gonna make for that now".
Pulling the rim of her skirt just slightly up, she released a stream of urine right on the boy's body. As if to keep in line with her stupendous cock and equine testicles, the volume of fluid she produced was likewise immense, a powerful stream blasting out of her urethra that continued unabatedly for more than a minute before finally weakening to a drizzle. The deluge had not only soaked Cody's body from head to toe, but also reached far beyond the confines of the cubicle, leaving most of the bathroom's floor covered in warm piss. The girl looked down, somewhat dismayed, realising that her shoes were immersed as well; still she smiled when seeing the boy's pitiful form.
"Oops", she cood.
"Well, that's what happens if you hold me back. Understood?".
Cody understood nothing. A hoarse croak escaped from his throat, but he remained unconscious for the time being. Giving him a condescending smile, the girl crammed through her handbag, eventually pulling out a black sharpie. She selected a relatively dry section of the toilet stall's wall and began to write down her phone number.
"You were pretty pathetic for a fuck", she said, "and seeing you losing your mind over my cock was more fun than your useless shallow throat, but perhaps…I can train you to become an acceptable cumdumpster. I mean, if I have the time…"
With these words, she left the stall and walked out of the restroom, leaving poor Cody in a truly awful state. Knowing that she hadn't acted on a whim, but chose him the moment he jogged into the park and followed him to the outhouse, would have hardly been a consolation to him.
------X------
When he woke, Cody wasn't sure how much of what he remembered would turn out to be real, and how much product of his overactive imagination.
Before he even opened his eyes, the strong smell struck him — definitely urine, but somehow less unpleasant than the usual odour of public restrooms. His clothing clung clammily to his limbs, and the tiled floor felt ice-cold underneath him. With a start, he realised that it was indeed him lying in a puddle of cooling piss that emitted that smell. Fragments of bizarre memories popped up in his mind; of seeing a gargantuan cock hanging from the crotch of a dark-haired girl that had accosted him seconds earlier, of his face being struck by this column of meat with such force that it might have fractured his skull, of being dragged up by his hair and having that frightening thing, now growing with impossible speed into something completely incomprehensible, stuffed in his mouth, his whole body being strained to its breaking point point, and then — blackness.
A dull ache throbbed through his entire body, while a sharper sort of pain pierced inside his skull. Arduously, he scrambled up and tried to comprehend what had really happened. He must have passed out for whatever reason, struck his head and dreamed this grotesque episode of being brutalised by a horse-cocked girl, while losing control of his bladder in his unconscious state. Oddly enough, his crotch region did not seem any wetter than the rest of his body, and the pure amount of piss all around him indicated that he must have drunk at least a gallon of water before, which he could not remember doing.
Cody was back on his feet when a frisson of pain stabbed through his jaw, just as he opened his mouth. Touching his lips, he found them bruised and frighteningly numb, while his throat felt strained and tender when he gently ran his fingers along it. Could it be that…
Immediately, he dismissed the thought. It simply had to have been a hallucination, a strange dream arising from some suppressed corner of his subconscious. It was less the idea of a pretty girl having a cock — he had seen some of those, alright — that the penis itself, which was multiple times as big as biggest one he had ever seen, and that was while it was still soft. No human body could support such a monstrosity, let alone supply it with enough blood to get erect. The thought was downright preposterous, yet he had to admit that something had happened to him, something that was more than a simple blackout.
After a while, he admitted that someone had, in fact, attacked and irrumated him, perhaps even a fat-cocked girl (the world is a crazy place, after all), but that his confused mind turned a more-or-less normal penis into the absurdity he remembered. For a very short time, he considered notifying the police, but what would he even tell him? They would think he had lost his mind, and maybe even chastise him for wasting their time — well, he had never had too much trust in the authorities anyway.
After making sure that he was alone in the restroom, Cody snuck to the door and peeked outside. To his chagrin, night had already fallen, meaning that he must have been unconscious for half a day at least; and to his surprise, a "Do Not Enter — Cleaning in Progress" shield was affixed to the door, explaining why he hadn't encountered anyone else in there. Still, he was quite certain that it hadn't been there when came in…
The way back home might have been the most embarrassing mile in his life — so far. Cody snuck from bush to bush, carefully evading the scattered pedestrians he espied here or there. Once out of the park, his task became no easier, as he had to slunk from dark alley to dark alley until he finally reached the block wherein he lived. After making sure that no one stood anywhere near the door (meeting his neighbours in such a state would have been a disaster), he slipped in and darted up to his fourth-storey apartment, the stinging in his chest soon reminding him that he was not as in-shape as he sometimes believed. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, the young man's right hand shook so much that he had to steady it with his left before unlocking the door.
Once inside, his body suddenly seemed to lose all tension, and he had to hold on to the edge of a table to keep himself upright. The urine soaking his clothes had, thankfully, dried into nothing more than moisture by then, and he was no wetter than he would have been if he had come home sweaty from one of his runs — just a thousand times more odorous. Cody slipped out of his ruined clothing, intending to get a new set unless he discovered an amazing way of exorcising the smell, and stepped into the shower. The hot water ran down his lean body, showing just a hint of muscular development on his limbs and his abdomen, and made his pale skin glisten. He stayed in the shower until the water ran unbearably cold, and used up half a bottle of gel, as much to wash away the stench as to get rid of that insidious, all-pervasive sense of shame — why didn't he do more to resist, to escape the vicious attack?
Cody tried to calm himself by remembering the girl's extraordinarily strength, concluding that any act of refusal would have resulted in her treating him even more savagely, while also distrusting the accuracy of his memory. And then, as he left the shower and wrapped his aching body into warm towels, something very unusual happened: He began to question his own assessment of the situation. Was it really something that had been done to him against his will, and not something that he, in one way or another, had incurred? Back in that public restroom, he had feared for his life, and indeed for a short time actually thought that he would die, but now in retrospect, it seemed like a painful and frightening, yet incredibly exciting experience; and, as much as it filled him with shame, could he deny that his little cock was throbbing and twitching against the fabric of his sweatpants the entire time?
The next moment he shuddered, unsure whether due to the cold rush of air against his wet skin or the realisation of the direction in which his thoughts were drifting. What had happened was awful, he reminded himself, and he'd take precautions that it won't happen again. Still…he couldn't help thinking about it, rewinding the bizarre scenes in his mind over and over again. Cody tried distracting himself by reading or watching TV, but couldn't concentrate on what he was doing. Ultimately, he decided it would be best to sleep it out, and see the whole issue the next morning with fresh eyes.
But he soon found himself tossing and turning in bed. After a while, he resorted to his tried and tested remedy, produced his laptop and began to browse for porn. Although his cock quickly became stiff, and he even felt more hotly aroused than usual, Cody had difficulty approaching his climax, and found himself drifting from video to video with increasing disinterest. Ultimately, he reached the category of male submission, strap-ones and the like, which he felt oddly drawn to. How strange — he was never repulsed by such things, and even had a fancy for girls with well-developed muscles, but never before had they exerted such a fascination on him. The video he eventually became stuck on showed a dark-haired, stern-looking woman mercilessly penetrating a whimpering, effeminate boy with a large dildo attached to her crotch.
Although Cody had assiduously tried to keep the bizarre events of the day from his mind and focus on the scenes of rough lust he was seeing, the memories still intruded into his thinking. Suddenly, it all seemed to merge — the vistas of him sitting in bed eagerly working his cock, the one of the boy being viciously plowed on the screen, and the vision of the female stranger's impossible, stupefying endowment being forced down his throat until he almost suffocated to death. He felt a cold shiver rushing over his body, not unlike what he had experienced when he was still very young and had just begun to masturbate; something unfamiliar, exciting, and sensually intense. In that moment, his brain short-circuited.
Cody could not stifle the high-pitched scream that managed to escape his throat as the strongest orgasm he had felt in many years, if not his whole hitherto life, overwhelmed him. His muscles stiffened involuntarily, his vision blurred, and his cock continued to twitch uselessly long after he had expelled his whole ejaculate. Usually, a climax was no more than a short flare of pleasure in his groin, but this was a fierce conflagration throbbing through his entire body. He felt dizzy and utterly exhausted afterwards, with a strange tingling in his limbs, and had just enough strength left to clean the mess off his smooth thighs and push his laptop aside before he fell asleep.
——
Cody missed his classes the following morning, and even in the afternoon he felt strangely groggy. Multiple colleagues commented on his aloofness, including a girl — he found her awfully cute, yet could have never brought up the courage to tell her — noting that he was unusually pale and asking if he was sick. All he could do was smile uneasily and admit that he did feel a bit under the weather, without revealing any details; they wouldn't have believed him anyway. Cody found his thoughts drifting, unable to stay concentrated on anything for long, while also circling around that one topic he tried to evade.
More than once, he became so obsessively occupied that he had to excuse himself, rush to the bathroom and let the insistent memories wreak havoc in his brain. The intensity of the arousal made him dizzy, and when he masturbated, he came within seconds; leading to stupefying orgasms that left him whimpering and his cock twitching uselessly. His mind was clearer afterwards, but he was overwhelmed by shame each time — what in God's name was wrong with him? There might be nothing objectionable about having some unusual interests and tendencies, but this was on a whole different level, something he ought to feel guilty about, to keep hidden from others, to suppress as far as possible.
But he couldn't. Cody soon came to the conclusion that he had to do something about it, that he couldn't go on living like this for much longer. Suddenly, he remembered that he had seen a number scrawled across the wall of the toilet stall where he had been assailed and that it had seemed fresher than the obscene graffiti and childish limericks surrounding it. The temptation to reach out to that number — Cody could recall the condescending, obscene things she had said to him in such a lovely, arousing voice and almost swooned at the thought of hearing them again — was overwhelming at times, yet he knew that this would also be an act of colossal stupidity. If someone had robbed and beaten him, would he call them and ask to repeat the experience?
It's not like that, he told himself.
Cody managed to hold out for a week; a week in which he became a shadow of his former self, both devoured by shame and trauma and driven by incredible excitement that made his heart race. He decided that he would send a message, tell her how awfully her assault had affected him and that he would not allow her to treat him like that again, hoping that the catharsis of that accusation would let him find peace again; but Cody also knew that he was a coward, a weak-willed insecure little thing that was about as far from the stoic, steel-eyed movie heroes he would have liked to emulate in such a situation as can be. Ultimately, he gave in; drawing the number from his crystal-clear memory and typing it into his phone, hesitating after each digit with uncertainty and regret. It was almost as if someone else took control of his hands when he wrote the first message.
"Hi".
Stupid, Cody chastised himself. How is she supposed to know who I am?
"We met in the public restroom in the park last Tuesday".
Cody's heart almost skipped a beat when he saw that she was typing.
"Lol", she wrote, "you gotta be a bit more specific".
Somehow, that apparent lack of interest — and implied promiscuity — both frightened and intrigued him.
"Washington Park".
"Ah yes", she replied, "ur that cut lil twink I messed up right?".
Cody sensed a shiver going through his guts. He felt dizzy for a second, had to clench his teeth and pull himself together to answer.
"Yes".
"Alright", she wrote almost immediately, "listen up twink, I ain't got time for flirting or whatever you want to tell me. If you want to meet up i'll give you my address. I'm free this afternoon if you wanna continue where we stopped last time :-)".
He felt like he might pass out any second. The reasonable part of his mind screamed for him to stop, that pursuing this course would lead him into a catastrophe beyond his wildest imagination, and even the basal section of his brain protested at the immense danger it sensed, yet there was something deep inside his soul, some stifled strain of his being that yearned for the danger, the pain, the humiliation, the damage it would do — and that part of him, barely a glimmer until then, won that day.
"Please tell me".
——
The address lead him to a part of the city Cody had rarely visited so far, where most shop windows were empty and dusty. Occasionally, he heard glass shards crunch under his soles and shied when a native, typically some heavy-set man whose skin was covered in fading tattoos or some gaunt, genderless figure clad in rags, gave him a questioning look. Once, he almost stumbled over a homeless codger who shot him a gap-toothed smile and wiggled his clanking cup of alms at him. Cody felt guilty over bumping into him and uncomfortable with the whole environment, so he surrendered fifty cents and received a thankful nod in reply. At almost any street crossing, he thought about turning around, about forgetting all all this and trying to get his old life back, but something drew him forward. At one point, he purposefully turned the wrong direction, only to round the block and carry on to his original target.
Finally, he stood before the grey, squalid building that the address referred to, located next to a small "park" that was, more accurately, a square space equally occupied with discarded, rotting furniture and other trash, and overgrown with tough nettles and ferns. Some ghostly impulse made him ring the bell, which buzzed quietly like a dying bug. Cody's heart began to beat like a jackhammer, even worse so when he heard footsteps approaching the door. He wasn't dressed especially fancy, considering that he wore a stained t-shirt and sweatpants the last time he met her. Would she open up and look at him with that devilish smile that made him feel weak and obsequious? Would she purr suggestive or even obscene comments until he could take no more? Would she invite him in, while explaining the unspeakable things she planned to do to his poor virgin body?
Cody almost passed out.
The door opened and revealed a woman, but it was not the one he had expected. This one was very tall, having to stoop under the lintel to get a good look at her guest, and was dressed somewhat oddly; wearing a conservative floral-pattern dress that reached to her ankles yet did little to conceal her mass bust, which was just at his eye-level due to her height. He had to look up to see her pretty face, which smiled down at him with just the faintest hint of condescension.
"Yes?".
Cody tried to speak, but failed pathetically. His lips quivered, his tooth clattered as if he was freezing, and his tongue seemed stuck at his palate; but the amazon before him showed no sign of impatience.
"This is a dangerous area. You better come in", she said, pushing her round glasses back up her nose.
He followed her with trance-like obedience, confused (and somewhat relieved) that she was not the one he had encountered in the restroom but nevertheless enticed by the tall woman's aura. The house's interior was strange; all furniture seemed decades old, reminding him of his grandparent's apartment, and the musty odour of these museum pieces mixed oddly with the acidic smell of cleaning agents that sometimes wafted into his nostrils. After passing a long hallway, they entered what must have been a living room, with a chafed and battered couch, a few chairs, and drawn curtains through which little light filtered into the room.
"Now, young man — what brings you here?".
Cody swallowed his fear, and after a few false starts, he managed to speak.
"I-I met a girl in the park, in a restroom…".
"Washington Park?".
Cody was baffled, but nodded. The tall woman rolled her eyes.
"Ah, I think you've met Natalie then".
"Natalie", he repeated, temporarily too stupefied to even wonder how she could know that.
"Yes. My sister".
"Your—what?".
She sighed deeply.
"Oh, she promised me she wouldn't do such things again. I've had to box her out of trouble so many times, and I'm just tired of it…but that just goes to show you how much a promise by Natalie is worth".
The woman took one of Cody's hands, and he was baffled by how big and strong they were.
"I supposed Natalie…didn't treat you too well, and later asked you to come here. She can be terribly cruel when she feels…engaged, and she really cares about no one but herself in such periods. God, I'm so sorry — you must have been through some awful things. And what a bad host I am! Please, make yourself comfortable. I'm Theresa".
"C-Cody".
That seemed to amuse her greatly.
"Oh, what a cute name. Now, Cody, would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea, maybe?".
Just in that moment, he became aware that his throat was as dry as a desert.
"Water, please".
Theresa excused herself and disappeared down some unlit hallway, and Cody sat down on the ancient couch. The more he considered his surroundings, the stranger they seemed to him — the cabinet at the other end of the room looked downright baroque with its body of dark wood and intricately decorated panelling, but right next to it stood a stack of rusty folding chairs. The most modern piece of equipment in the room was a laptop on a nightstand, yet its charging cable did not lead to a socket, and instead disappeared in some rough-looking hole in the wall. A thought began to form in his head; speculating that this woman might be squatting here without the knowledge of the landlord (if anyone actually owned this ruin) and therefor lacked luxuries like running water or electricity.
Theresa returned carrying a tablet with two glasses of water and a small bowl of cookies which she, lacking a table close to the couch, put on the floor before handing Cody his glass. He drank it almost within a single gulp.
"Thank you".
She sighed.
"Once again, I can only apologise for what my sister has done to you. I thought she would…calm down after puberty, but now she's an adult and it's only gotten worse. I shouldn't have to clean up the messes she leaves behind, yet I always do. Oh my, I'm going to read her the riot act when she comes home, and I know that she'll promise she won't do such a thing again, but a few days later, I'll have to get her out of some different situation. I really don't know what I'm supposed to do…I mean, I can't throw her out, she's my sister after all, and I do love her. Deep down, she really isn't a bad person…would you like some cookies? They're store-bought, but good".
"N-No thanks".
"I don't even think that it's primarily about lust for her. I've seen the kind of messages she gets every day, she doesn't have to go to some public restroom to get some…to get herself a partner, I mean. It's more a…way to feel good about herself, to feel mighty and superior to others. Even when she was very young, she loved to shock boys — and sometimes adult men — with the size of her you-know-what. When they ran away screaming, deeply shaken in their masculinity, she howled in triumph. I guess that later turned into some…mechanism for sexual gratification to her".
"I see", Cody said, understanding absolutely nothing.
"It's not just that she's embarrassing me", Theresa continued, "it's that she's reinforcing those awful stereotypes and damaging the reputation of our entire kind. When you hear the term gynandromorph — or dickgirl, or futanari, though most of us discourage the use of such terms — you think of some sex-crazed she-stud with a married woman in each arm and an endowment the size of a limb; and that's just the type of negative picture that Natalie re-enforces with her carelessness".
"But that does not correspond to reality. See, recent studies show that while gynandromorph people have on average somewhat larger penises then men, slightly higher libidos and number of sex parters, along with a marginally higher semen production, most of us are normal people. Natalie is an outliner, a one-in-a-million case, and should not be taken as a representative of an entire gender, you see?".
Cody nodded, but then a realisation pierced like a spear of ice through his soul. Our kind? We? He stared back at her like the proverbial deer in the headlights.
"Y-You…".
"Yes, I am one too, but unlike her, I can control my urges. It's genetic, running through my mother's side. All three sister are gynandromorph".
He gulped. Suddenly, that drape in her dress didn't seem like an innocent fold anymore.
"It's not all sugar and sunshine, Cody. Sure, I'd be easy for me to go out there and gather myself a nice harem, like Natalie keeps doing, but finding someone who sees you as more than a walking sex machine is frustratingly difficult. When they see you naked, they tend to forget that there's a woman attached to that wrist-thick fourteen inch cock".
Cody's brain had stopped working somewhere through that sentence. His whole world seemed to collapse around him, rapidly metamorphosing into something that made not the least bit of sense. He had heard the term gynandromorph before, but had thought that it was nothing but a rumour, an idea concocted by the porn industry to reach new viewers. Suddenly, so many things — strange comments he read on the internet, hushed whispers in the back of the classroom, news of scandals he had dismissed — all fell into place. It made him shiver in fear, and his tiny cock throb inside his boxers. Theresa smiled again, but this time there was something lascivious in the curl of her full lips.
"I…I certainly won't condone what Natalie did, but I can see why she chose you, Cody. You have a pretty face and a…nice body".
"Thank you", he stammered, wondering if he might not be hallucinating the whole situation.
"You know, I too have desires, and trust me, they're no less than Natalie's, but I don't allow myself to be controlled by them like she does. I find…reasonable ways to release them. I do my best to keep it as orderly and clean as I can, but sometimes…sometimes even I'm prone to act on instinct".
With that, Theresa reached out a hand, raised Cody's chin and kissed him. The way her lips completely sealed his, and her long tongue invaded his mouth made his body go limp. Once, he had thought his ex-girlfriend — the one who ended up cheating on him with that football player — was a good kisser, but compared to this experience, the girl was milquetoast. Theresa's kiss alone was enough to almost make him faint, yet after a few seconds, she withdraw, leaving him dazed and with a bridge of spit connecting their mouths. Her face contorted in a grimace, and she grabbed her own thighs through the fabric of the dress with such force that her knuckles whitened. Cody did not even dare to look down at the monstrous elation that had begun to rise between her legs, but it still managed to further enthral his already deeply stupefied mind.
"Cody", she said in a pressed voice, "I know I told you that I have good self-control, but if you do not want to continue, if you are not absolutely certain that you want to go down that path…you have to get up and leave now. I'm not sure I'll be able to hold myself back in a minute or two, no matter how much you scream and beg. Do you understand?".
He understood nothing, his mind ran at a glacial pace. Yet he nodded.
Theresa immediately kissed him again, her large and dextrous tongue seeming to fill Cody's mouth entirely, and guided one of his hands to her chest. Her breasts truly were enormous, tightly compressed by the dress yet amazingly soft to the touch. That proved to much for him to take; with a shiver and a moan that died deep in his throat, he came untouched, spilling his semen inside his jeans. Usually, this would mean the end of a sexual act for him, but Cody was caught in a maelstrom of unfamiliar yet inescapably overwhelming desires; an alien lust that seemed to have replaced any other sensation in his mind.
Theresa in turn slipped her hands under his shirt and began to caress his hairless chest with her strong fingers, paying special attention to his perky, pink nipples that he had felt so ashamed of just a few weeks back. She undressed him with surgical precision and frightening speed, and immediately laid her hands around his hips — giving his frustratingly broad and bubbly ass a more than playful squeeze. Cody was beyond logical thought, beyond fear or even desire, becoming no more than a will-less slave to the woman's superhuman lust.
"Damn", she croaked as their lips parted for a second, "I can see why Nat didn't want to miss this".
Like the human rag doll that he was at that point, Theresa picked up Cody and effortlessly turned him upside-down. The boy only grunted weakly as the air was pushed from his lungs by her forceful grasp, while she laid down on the couch with his posterior towards her face. His legs straddled her immense breasts on both sides, but he barely noticed — all the remaining attention his diminished mind could muster up was focused on the divine tower of meat that rose right before him. Cody saw nothing but the colossal, throbbing shaft lined by grotesquely thick veins like snakes climbing a tree-trunk, heard nothing but his own heartbeat and the sound of his laboured breathing, smelled nothing but that musky, overwhelming aroma it emitted.
In this moment, Theresa's cock was Cody's god, and to worship it the sole purpose of his existence.
Theresa, however, had a different target. Laying one large hand on each buttock, she used her thumbs to open the boy's smooth ass, and smiled when she saw the beautifully pink, tight hole that had been hidden. For just a moment, she smiled like a predator certain of its victory, then pushed his posterior down into her face. With great pleasure, she began to lick and then rim his sensitive keister, keeping an iron grip on his hips while he squirmed and her tongue explored his virginal depths.
This was an entirely new experience for Cody — all his previous girlfriends would have turned away in disgust if he did so much as just suggesting such a thing — but one that he felt he might grow addicted to. Strange, warm pleasure seemed to fill his mind; utterly unfamiliar but so much more satisfying than any orgasm using his cock could have ever been.
Still his attention (or what was left of it) remained fixed on the absurd girl-cock before him, so immensely big that he had to raise his head to get anywhere near the glans. It must have been at least as big as Natalie's — in absolute numbers, it could not have been much shorter than two feet — but in relation to Theresa's far bigger body, it did not seem quite so grotesque, if still incomprehensibly large. Cody grabbed the steel-hard pillar of flesh, barely encircling it with both hands, and instinctively tried to force the glans into his mouth. He reached new pinnacles of pleasure when his tongue came into contact with this divine cock, and the pain as his lips were pulled taut and threatened to tear due to the enormous girth, as his jaws were forced apart, as the tip of the glans pushed against his uvula, registered as nothing but another facet of heavenly pleasure.
It was forlorn hope — despite his enthusiastic efforts, he had barely managed to take her glans and was already struggling to breathe and just so managed to swallow the hot, sticky precum she continued to produce. Tears welled up in his eyes and rained down on Theresa's thighs, showing how overloaded the still function part of his brain was. Any second of this was more intense than the best orgasm he had ever experienced before, a mind-destroying bliss beyond his wildest imaginations. They spent almost half an hour in this position — Theresa enjoying the boy's virginal ass, and Cody enthusiastically but hopelessly trying to fellate her. He could feel her heartbeat thrumming through his jaw, filling up his entire being, while his body slowly grew numb.
And then she came.
Theresa withdrew her face from Cody's posterior and groaned; a sound so deep and guttural it could be more felt than heard. As all her muscles tensed up, she involuntarily buckled her hips and forced another two-or-so inches of her inhuman cock into the boy's strained mouth, pushing the tip of her glans past his pharynx. Suddenly, her urethra started to bulge obscenely from the underside of her shaft, and a true deluge of semen erupted directly into his oesophagus, hitting his mucosa with such force that even his benumbed mind still registered the sharp pain somewhere deep in his throat.
Theresa's ejaculation could not be divided into spurts, like a male's laughable orgasm, but was rather a single, uninterrupted stream of high-pressure semen. Although Cody's stomach, already containing an obscene volume of gloopy precum, was quickly filled to the brim, her climax showed no signs of abating. He was vaguely aware of the hot, thick-flowing stuff making its way through his guts, overstuffing and distending his intestines, of the way his stomach was blown up far beyond its usual size, first as a diffuse pressure in his abdomen and then as a sharp pain as his belly started to bulge out, rapidly growing towards its biological limits. Somehow, a thought manage to form in his run-down, overstimulated mind —
This is how I die.
The last working remnant of his brain made him grab the enormous, continuingly ejaculating cock with both hands and jerked it forward, managing what his paralysed neck muscles were too weak to do and possibly saving his life. The glans slid out with a wet pop, but did not stop spurting semen like a high-pressure valve, now shooting straight upward and hitting the ceiling, where the stream bounced off and splattered through the room as a myriad of viscous, pearl-white globs. Theresa had thrown her head back, too overwhelmed by her own orgasm to notice what was happening all around her.