Makti: Pt. 02

They say in space no one can hear you scream. While the truth of this claim can be verified undeniably across all points of scientific history, it—like many other fundamental laws of the universe—ceased to work when they encounter an alien called Makti. Her snores reverberated through the fabric of space, a loud and irritating alarm for the unfortunate staff and crew of the Voidlight that shook them to their souls. A flock of Alpha Centurion sparrows chirped a tune outside her window, pecking on the vacuum-sealed glass. The song was "Baby Blue" from Bafinger's 1971 album, Straight Up.

"Uuurrrhhhhh," Makti groaned. She spat a dirty curse. "Mornings."

The 7ft blue creature lazed in her bed like a dead weight. Her arms and thigh were wrapped lovingly around a tube-like object, the approximate length and thickness of an adult man. The pillow supporting its head was sodden wet with goop, warm and wafting with the smell of nature. The lower half of the blanket bulged with twin domes, gurgling, glorping, swelling at the size of yoga balls. There were not, unfortunately, prizes for guessing what hid beneath. (No, it's not a Diglett.)

Makti sighed deeply, eyes sleepy.

Time to get up.

She whipped the blanket off in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. She rolled to the edge of her bed and dragged her overgrown genitalia along; her balls thumped! onto the steel floor, toes curling at the icy bite of cold metal. She slung her man-sized penis over a shoulder, the massive weight barely noticed. She walked to the bathroom, kicking her low hanging fruits, the orbs stewing and churning with untold quantities of seed—

And got stuck in the door.

Makti rolled her head back and groaned.

"Whhhhyyyyyy..."

This was, she remarked, the dead last thing she needed in the morning.

Her nutsack popped from the door frame as she reversed backwards, slapping against her shins. Ugh. Makti rubbed her blue balled babies with a tender hand, pouting. The nightly build up was usually bad, but not this bad. What had she dreamed about? She couldn't recall.

Suffering with indignity, and grateful she was alone, Makti squatted down and lifted her balls. She could tell in a distant, numb sort of way that they were immensely heavy. Hundreds, maybe a thousand pounds. Such a trivial mass was lost on musculature like hers, however.

What wasn't lost upon her was their volume.

"Why are you so. Damn. Big," Makti huffed, cheeks squished against the purplish-blue orb. Each gland was too full to squeeze through the portal alone, so Makti just stacked them vertically and applied her most brilliant tactic; brute force.

On the other side, a wall of blueberry cake completely dominated the portal. The twin boulders strained and groaned as Makti pushed, creeping in inches at a time. Deep, terrible noises bellowed from deep within, cum factories waking. Her nutsack creaked like strained leather as the internal organs bloated with hot, waxy seed, the beginning of a flood in the making. Makti twisted her hips at an awkward angle, surgically attached to the wall by a mountain of meat, and thrusted. Metal protested against the tide of flesh, but it was a losing battle.

Snap!

Thunk!

"Oof!"

The doorway succumbed to Makti's perseverance and snapped apart, crumpling inwards like a paper bag. The azure alien yelped as she smashed nut-first to the floor, a single tear welling in her eye.

"In," she huffed. "Finally."

Makti looked at herself in the mirror. Her untied hair stuck up in a giant, frizzy mane like a dark storm cloud. She wore a simple white vest that struggled to fit her braless sweater-puppies, thumb-size nipples tenting through the fabric. Ugh. Everything was so big. Her hair, her tits, her hips, her cock, her ass, her everything. Big wasn't even the right word; excessive. She was excessively huge in every facet, overgrown beyond the point of need. The sea of testicles blocking her legs was a testament. Why?

Splat!

Makti's head snapped around to the noise, as if someone had dropped a balloon filled with jelly. "Oh."

Her fat, veiny hog extended from her flat crotch, snaking over the swell of her balls. It lay heavy like a giant copper cable and out beyond the bathroom, the foreskin-sheathed head resting on the floor eight-feet away. Makti's heart skipped a beat. Space-Jesus, she mentally cursed. I know I'm huge in the mornings, but this? I'm not even turned on! Did the sex-suppressors stop working?

A fat sphere of fluid traveled up the neck of her shaft, bulging like a creature beneath the surface of the water. A massive glob of pre—indistinguishable from her regular thick, steamy soap—drooled on the floor. A white puddle blossomed and spread. The stink of sex was ripe in the air, making Makti's nostrils flair.

Her balls groaned as they inflated, excited by the smell of its own produce.

"Shit," Makti hissed, slowly sliding away from the sink. "Ahhgghhh, come on, guys! Can't I catch a break?"

Her balls responded by brewing a fresh vat of pre.

Gllloorrrrgggggg...

Splat!

The puddle doubled.

"Pleeeeaasseee, just stop. I'll empty you out in five minutes, I swear. Just let me freshen up, clean my teeth, and—"

GWWWLLLLOOOOGGGG!

A starburst of ecstasy exploded from her nethers. The base of her cock swelled as a thick payload struggled up the urethra; gallons of white, stinky gunk splattered into her bedroom like spilled paint. Not to be left out of the action, her cock inflated by a foot, pressurised blood thumping through its arm-thick veins. At 9ft, it wasn't close to erect. But it would be soon.

"Fine, fine, fine!" Makti yelled. "Ugh."

A steel sealed hatch connected the bathroom to the wet room. Makti geared her dumptruck ass into reverse, dragging her waking leviathan with her as she thumbed a button. Pressurised gas hissed through the cracks as the hatch swung open.

Beyond lay Makti's Garden of Eden

The 'wet room' was a cutesy term she invented to ease the burden of knowledge that she alone required a dedicated room with sixteen industrial hydraulic pumps just to process her morning wood. Livin' it up like royalty, says she.

Makti backed up through the hatch and into the wet room, slipping off her vest and tossing it over her Herculean junk. Hopefully it didn't land in jizz. Cum boiled and brothed inside her gargantuan gonads, glorping and gurgling grotesquely, the surface rippling and jiggling as it over-pumped itself silly with multiple swamps of cum. And then some more. And more.

The wet room was built like a swimming pool. Ceramic tiles, chloric scent, and a lot of free space. Makti stood atop of a sheer ceramic cliff, a great squared pit extending past the lip of Makti's feet. 20 meters deep, 30 meters wide, and 100 meters long. Over 15,000,000 gallons capacity and Makti had it all to herself.

She just prayed it was enough.

Her 10ft floppy anaconda smacked against the floor tiles, bouncing and wobbling like a wet sponge. Several feet of wrinkly foreskin remained, sheathing the head entirely. Precum oozed from the opening, drooling into another puddle. Humidifiers detected Makti's—or more importantly, her cock's—presence and altered the drainage system.

Mighty machinery whirred into action, great turbines beginning the long and arduous process of heaving themselves into motion. Makti was an organic melody to the buzz and clangs of metal, her balls chattering with explosive fertility—

They got stuck again.

"NO!" Makti screamed, tugging her ball sack forward. It was positioned behind her legs, wedged in the hatch. Makti was stuck in the middle, balls halfway through the room, cock rapidly growing further inside. Tiles cracked under her heels as she tried with all her might to free herself; it was no use. The blue boulders continued to balloon and swell, unabashed by the military-grade reinforcements encasing it. Makti's impossible durability was truly a blessing and a curse.

Despite her best efforts, the effects of her growing manhood began to take a mental toll. The swaths of pleasure she'd blocked out tore through her defenses. Overwhelmed her. Made her feel alive and amazing and powerful. She was a force of nature, a goddess encased in mortal flesh. Ichor surged through her veins like molten gold. After all, why shouldn't she be allowed to devastate landscapes with her might? Why couldn't she finally just let go and permit her body to finally get some well-fucking-deserved relief?

"Urgh," Makti growled. She wiped a sheen of sweat from her brow, cheeks flushing with colour. "Fuck it." She began rubbing the sides of her cock, playing her hands across its hard, soft meat. "Come on, baby. Grow for mama. Grow big and don't stop growing..." desire bled into her voice, pink mist descending upon her vision. "Mmmmph~ ooh yeah, baby. That's it. Keep going. I want you so fucking huge, baby. Bigger than you've ever gone before; I'm sick and tired of always holding back... let's burst through this little tank and fuck a path straight to Gilson's office!"

GLLWWWOOOAAALLLLL... her balls rumbled.

Her cock suddenly lurched and straightened, as if some one had yanked the head on a string. An enormous geyser of hot wax exploded from her cumslit, bolting out like a pressurised hose. The first rope of pre was thicker than her thunderous thighs. It soared in a downward arc and splatted in the base of the tank, lewd echoes rebounding off the walls long after impact. Pre streamed from her nozzle at a constant rate, tens of gallons spewing lazily forth every second. Oh, but a drop in the ocean.

Makti swallowed as her heart rate leaped. Blood rushed through her core and into her dick, veins creaking and full to bursting. Angry veins popped from the surface in a spider's web, networked yet independent, fighting to be the thickest. Some were as thick as her wrists; then many became that size; then many more grew even thicker, cock disappearing over the edge. And still the pressure rose. And still the feet piled on.

The blubbery, fat, yoga ball sized cockhead peeked out from its sheath, a curious turtle inspecting the coming storm. Tens of square feet of foreskin pulled back in a grand curtain reveal, Makti's true cock breaking out to its comfortable size. A god in the waking.

The nympho herself, meanwhile, was a hot mess.

Her face was splashed with hot pink, flushed and bothered. Her tongue lulled over her teeth like a panting dog, needy, desperate, helpless. Blissful. One eye twitched half-closed, the pupil dilated into love hearts. The sweat glistening on her skin evaporated to hot steam, rising around her body. A local sauna.

"FUUCK! AAaaahhHHHH!" She bit her lips, wildly thrusting her siege weapon across the heated ceramic tiles. "Mmmm~, oh fuck, it feels so goooddddd~~~"

She felt, rather than heard, the bathroom dismantle. The tide of testicular destruction tore through the room, spreading and dominating every available inch. The shower stall crumpled inwards like a paper bag. The mirror smashed into a puzzle of glass. Plastic whined and metal shrieked as her balls pressed against the walls and ceiling, a caged animal fighting for escape.

A white waterfall of pre rained down upon the canyon floor, 20 meters below. Her cock curved over the edge of the cliff face, 15ft long yet not hard enough to support itself. Foreskin peeled back to reveal a purple-shaded body, enormous industrial veins pumping fluids by the tens of gallons. Each beat of her heart shot a wave of pressure through her bloodstream, dumping more hormones, more pressure, more need into her system.

"AaaaAAAaahhahAAAhhhah! Yes!" Makti's screams we're barely audible over the deafening crash of cum hitting the floor. "Keep going! Get. Fucking. Huge!"

And then she flexed.

Tens of feet of cock ripped forth into existence. It smashed a path through the ceramic tiles as tons of girlcock billowed and bloomed, like a runaway train tearing through the tracks. The outer layer of foreskin pulled taut around 30ft with a stinging stop; the beast buckled, reigned back and curled upwards in a stunning display of strength—

And it kept going.

Makti's brain shattered to pieces, unable to process her infernal lust. Too long had she been on sex-suppressants. Too long had she restrained herself for the safety of others. Fuck it. Fuck. It. That little release on the beach with Lulu? Nothing. Barely a shave off the top of a backlog of sexual neglect. She'd played nice for far too fucking long. Something incredible was happening to Makti on a genetic level. Molecular. Spiritual. A terrible awakening, an ancient beast summoned to life. Possessing her; pushing her.

Freeing her.

The steel hatch choking her balls exploded in a barrage of shrapnel, bouncing harmlessly off Makti's skin. Her balls burst through the walls and into her room, smothering her bed and belongings. She didn't care. The only thing that mattered now was growth.

Her cock surged endlessly, spewing jizz by the ton, reaching its limit and breaking it again and again. 40ft away, her manhole sized cumslit gaped wide open, stretched to accommodate the offspring of her balls' machinations. Makti flexed once more, and the cum canal doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled in girth.

Fear didn't factor into the equation. She was beyond such emotion. Only one drive mattered now. Breed.

50ft...

Makti's eyes rolled in their sockets, glowing pink, pupils shaped like love hearts. Pleasure threatened to snap her mind beyond repair. She'd loosened more semen in the last several minutes than she had in her life, yet she still hadn't cum. But she was close...

60ft...

Her toes curled. Burrowed through the ceramics like cardboard.

70ft...

She arched her back, a howl of ecstasy prepared in her throat.

Her mind snapped.

Everything happened at once.

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

100ft of girlcock violently exploded into being. Cords of veins hugged and stretched around her Herculean mast, the smallest no thinner than a man. Her mawing cumslit ripped painfully open, gaped so tremendously you could park a car inside. Kilotons of hot, fertile matter rushed like a geyser, splattering into the rising sea of baby batter. Makti's ear-splitting screams were drowned out by the growing sea as it rapidly developed its own currents, the mass large enough to sustain a greater level of fluid dynamics.

Beneath the surface, sixteen state-of-the-art pumps struggled to process Makti's output. They hacked and wheezed, gears wheeling sluggishly as dense goop clogged the systems. The Voidlight's network highlighted the area as a hazard and soldiers rushed to escort crew members away from the impending disaster.

Orgasm piled upon orgasm. The pleasure multiplied logarithmically; every new climax outshined the previous, stacking exponentially. Makti entered into a transcendent state of bliss, literally indescribable. The only reason her brain hadn't exploded was because her skull was too thick to break so easily.

Several minutes passed. Then several more.

Eventually Makti's output tempered down, her cock softening from a hardness of diamonds to mere titanium. All 15,000,000 gallons of volume were filled. A sheer lake of cum extended from the ceramic river bank Makti stood upon. The steamy produce fogged up the air, reeking of sex and fertility.

Her balls mercifully deflated as they emptied their last several tons of jizz, a drop in the ocean. Makti collapsed back upon them, foam bubbling down her chin.

Somewhere from her ruined chambers a gruff voice barked an order. White hot sparks from a plasma cutter melted through the door, it's shape bent and locks broken.

Makti's limp body rested upon a throne of flesh, glorping and brewing. Beyond lay a kingdom of cum, a domaine shaped by godly organs and ruled by a reluctant queen. A single, terrible thought drifted on the edge of her consciousness:

It wasn't enough.

Darkness consumed her.

* * * * *

Hours later, she awoke in the Medical Ward. A team of armed guards wheeled her out into the screening room for inspection, whereupon she endured another hour of humiliating check-ups, the doctor pushing strange tools into places she didn't know she had.

Fortunately it was Doctor Wesler who conducted the screening; the old Irish woman had a severe face and a rasping voice, her silvery hair kept in a bun. She was the sort of woman who was used to people denying what she wanted and then getting it anyway. Despite being built like a fairy, she was the scariest woman Makti knew.

"There's good news and bad news," Wesler said, lighting a cigarette. A red sign blinked above her head reading 'NO SMOKING.' She popped open a compartment and ripped the wires out, killing the light.

A knot of anxiety twisted in Makti's gut. "I guess I'll take the bad—"

"Here's the good news." Wesler blew out a plume of grey smoke. Makti recoiled, nostrils flaring. "First; you're alive. In the medical business we call that A Good Bloody Start. Second; you didn't break the ship. Barely. That Gilson cunt's been ragging on about it for hours now." She spat in disgust. "I'd like to carve that cockney English bastard up a new arsehole if I ever saw him. Would you like a sweetie, dear?"

Makti stammered. Blinked. "What?"

Wesler puffed her cigarette. "A sweetie, dear. It'll help when I tell you the bad news."

Makti gulped and accepted Wesler's treat. "Thank you." She popped the red sweet into her mouth. Strawberry; her favourite.

"Now, the bad news. Miss Gahea, before I recount to you the findings of my research, I must stress a simple preface; no one has any bloody idea how you work." She sucked in another breath of smoke. "To be frank, your existence spits in the face of Einstein and pisses on Darwin's grave. You'll notice that I'm the only doctor present for your inspection; that's because all my staff have either sworn off science and taken jobs in the fishing industry, or have deigned to become cultists and worship you. They call their little faith 'Gaheanism'.

"Anyway. I went and scanned through some old records and put together a graph. Wouldn't be a proper doctor if I didn't."

Wesler produced a digital tablet from her pocket and showed it to the alien. The bottom axi were labelled 'OUTPUT IN LITRES' and 'MONTHS' respectively.

"The first record of your output was three months ago; you produced one-million litres of..." she took a hard puff and cocked her head."...yep. Frankly, mystifying. We're still not sure whether you obey the laws of thermodynamics at this point." She pointed to the graph. The red line which marked Makti's output rose steadily, curving up at an upwards angle. "A month later you produced five-million." The line curled up even harsher. "And now, fifthteen-million." After the present date marked on the bottom axis the line bent vertically and disappeared off the chart, dashing past 100,000,000 litres and never to be seen again.

Wesler shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly. Something terrible's coming. How hard do you push to make so much?"

A lump formed in Makti's throat.

"Um... actually I hold back."

Wesler's expression was blank.

"Sorry, dear, come again. I must have misheard you."

"I hold back. All the time." Makti took a deep, shuddering breath. "Doctor Wesler, I am horny... all the time. I literally can't remember the last time I was sexually satisfied. It's like... it's like there's a well inside of me, and it gets deeper everyday. But I can't let it all out because I don't know how deep it goes; I might hurt people. And it drives me crazy. Honestly, Doc, that release this morning? I could have gone all day easily. Even if I flooded the ship and popped it like a balloon... I don't know if it would be enough."