The Biggest Dick

"Now then Amy," Rocky continued, "just step over to our machine over there. Our 'Compliance Appliance.' What I like to call the 'Obediator.' You know, the little toy that will help our man Dave here run things his way. Now don't be shy, it won't bite you. Here, Delilah will show you exactly how to strap in."

Amy stepped over her crumpled pile of clothes and shuffled toward the apparatus. Dave enjoyed seeing her naked body in motion. The machine was configured like a chair—though not any chair Dave had ever seen before. It seemed all spindly rods and joints and pads, and as Amy got in he was happy to see that it covered remarkably little of her body. In no time at all, she was seated in the machine and carefully, securely strapped in—arms, legs, torso. "OK, Dave, she's all yours! You've won 30 minutes of quality time with our girl Amy. Go to town! Teach Chas a thing or two about how to satisfy this filly. Give our audience a good time! Show us why they call you THE BIGGEST DICK!" Oh my God, it was really happening.

Sadly, this really wasn't Dave's finest hour. He should have done his homework, visualized this part of the competition more clearly, developed a game plan. For all that his cock had yearned for this moment, it simply lacked the brains and imagination to properly prepare him for it when the time came. And, honestly, it would be hard for any experience to live up a buildup such as this. After all, Dave's was a hard-on three months in the making—heck, maybe 18 years in the making.

This is not to say that Dave didn't have fun with Amy. Only that later, looking back, he wished he might have optimized this rare opportunity a bit more, wringing every drop of sweet honey from it. Now, in the moment, he was operating mostly on instinct. All that he really knew was that he wanted, with every fiber of his being, to fuck this woman—to possess her, to spread her open until she could keep nothing from him, to enter inside her and plunge as deep as he possibly could, to pump two weeks worth of his seed into her innermost recesses, all while she could do nothing to resist. Amy's pale, creamy body sat trembling in the chair, a fruit waiting to be plucked.

Dave walked toward the machine. Amy craned her neck and eyeballs to try to watch him as he circled the contraption. Below the neck, he could see, she was immobilized in her current seated position, tits at the ready, legs together, arms at her sides. This was great, as far as it went; but in this posture her fetching little pussy was nowhere to be seen—only a flirtatious tuft of fur at the triangle between her thighs.

He fumbled with the joystick—why the hell hadn't he read the manual? This was crazy! The machine rotated and Amy tilted over on her side. He pushed some buttons, and her left leg shot out straight while her left arm curved up over her head. OK, don't panic, he told himself, and took a breath. He fiddled a bit more and got Amy back upright, limbs still slightly askew. She was breathing harder now, making her chest heave invitingly. Somewhere, at the edge of his consciousness, he was aware that Rocky was making jokes at the expense of his clumsiness. He didn't care—it felt like he was in an ever-narrowing tunnel, now, with every ounce of his attention bent toward the singular goal of fucking this woman.

Keep it simple, he thought. The key thing here is to open her pussy. He pondered a minute, and decided it would be most fun to fuck her on her back, face up. Surely that couldn't be too hard—she was nearly in that position now. Scrutinizing the row of icons on the controller, he thought he saw how to tilt her backward, and stabbed at the buttons... Oops! Too far—Amy was now seated upside down, with her back to him, bent legs high in the air. Her glasses clattered to the floor. The view here was not without its charms, but he was far too flustered to pause and enjoy it. Instead, he carefully reversed the process until she was flat on her back, still in a seated posture, about three feet off the ground. Amy's skin was flushed, her hair disheveled, and she bent her face away from him, to the extent that she could.

Already this was better. Her pussy was not yet fully open to him, but it was less protected, available for him to finger from behind—yes, far more accessible. Momentarily aware of a delicate choreography of cameras, he guessed that the production crew was out ahead of him on this point. Camera 4 had positioned itself down at floor-level, below her body, presumably in order to zoom in on the pouty little pussy lips that he imagined must be peering out from between Amy's pint-sized ass cheeks. Hell, the cameras had a better view than he did!

It seemed to Dave that Amy, too, sensed her increased vulnerability and heightened exposure in this position. Her pale face had blushed an even deeper crimson, registering rising emotion, and not simply her flip upside down. If nothing else, Dave, thought, this little exercise had demonstrated to Amy that he was in total control of the situation—that right now, her will counted for nothing; and that both he and the audience were going to soak up every intimate fold and curve of her body before this was through. In a way he mused, it wasn't even really her body anymore. At this moment, every part of Amy belonged to Dave. And forever after, her body—and what Dave did to it—would belong to the world... He bent over for a second, picked up her glasses, and slotted them back onto Amy's face. He didn't want her to miss a thing.

Yet despite his heady thoughts, Dave noticed (glancing down) that amidst all these technical difficulties, some of the edge had gone off his cock. It was drooping now, ever so slightly. He decided to take a break from the joystick and give Amy a bit of a test-drive. As he leaned over her prone torso, she strained her face away from him. His fingers tingled, and he gave free reign to his hands to roam over the smooth skin of her shoulders and sides, to trace the gentle curves below her breasts, and then to begin cradling them. Amy's breasts didn't provide heaping handfuls, but they still rolled and pinched nicely between his fingers. He reveled in the pliancy of their shallow, resilient layer of tissue, when he massaged it against the heaving firmness of her ribs beneath. He began to tweak and tease her already hard nipples, alternately rubbing them lightly and insistently, then deeply and assertively. He leaned over and took first one nipple and then the other in his mouth, sucking, biting ever so gently, tickling with his tongue. Amy's tits were just flat out fun to play with—suitable toys for a well-equipped man such as himself.

As he continued to suck her tits, Dave began working his right hand in between Amy's upper thighs. Hmm, she was dry—it seemed he was enjoying playing with her tits more than she was. He grabbed the lube bottle (Biggest Dick branded of course) and squeezed a dollop on his fingers. Amy winced a little at the chill as he began stroking her clit, and pulling apart her pussy lips. God, screw all this foreplay, he thought, I need to get in there. Bit by bit he worked her lips apart and began exploring the treasures within. He traced the outlines of lips and clit, fondling each soft fold of skin he encountered. Then... there! he felt the rim of her cunt itself. That was the spot. He massaged the entrance to her vagina gently with his fingertips, while imagining his cock,(oh so much more forcefully) breaking through its defenses. He still didn't sense any response on the part of Amy, or her pussy. What did this girl want, anyway? She knew what she was in for when she came on the show! Dave could feel that his prick was fully reenergized, and decided it was time to step things up to the next level.

By now the joystick was beginning to make a certain sense to him. It didn't take long to get Amy's legs unbent, so that she was as flat as a board. He gave the thatch of hair on the summit of her pubic mound a little kiss, and stroked the labia and hint of clit that had become visible once more. Then he began the crucial maneuver—prying open her legs. Amy grunted and he could tell she was resisting, straining to keep her legs together, to keep Dave from getting unrestricted access to her cunt. But the machine was simply inexorable. Operating with a velvet fist, ever so gently, so smoothly, so insistently, so irresistibly, it guided her legs apart. All her strength was for naught—she could neither be injured by it, nor prevent it from working its will on her.

Gradually the angle between Amy's thighs grew wider. Her pussy lips, already peeking appealingly out from between her legs, now became fully visible. The woman really wasn't aroused, Dave had to admit, but still the lips had a delicious puffy redness—maybe they were just a tiny bit inflamed? He gazed, entranced, as the angle continued to expand; and then suddenly his cock gave a leap. The spread of Amy's legs had become too great, and, aroused or not, her labia were beginning to separate. The sense of defeat that registered on Amy's face now was palpable—somehow, even though it was none of her own doing, the parting of her pussy, the opening of her clitoris, her vagina, to this strange man (not to mention to all the cameras) was a numbing blow. And Amy's treasures truly were all laid out before Dave's eyes now. Her broad outer labia were spread wide, her scalloped inner lips gently agape. At their apex, he noted, her clit now poked ever-so-slightly skyward, a pointy-little gem that begged to be tweaked, and tugged, and tickled. But the things that really drew his eyes were Amy's two cute little puckered holes—anus and cunt—laying open and exposed amidst the surrounding folds, and twitching slightly with her last throes of resistance. It made him want to cum right then and there.

By this point, Amy was arranged something like a lady visiting the gynecologist, except with her legs more out than up. Not terribly inventive spotting, Dave thought, but it gets the job done. And hell, what a view! His blood was raging, fire coursing through his mind. There was no way he could restrain himself any longer. Subtlety be damned—he needed to fuck her. Moving to position himself between her legs, Dave found that Amy was suspended at the perfect height for his dick to drive into her vagina. Nice touch, that. Pressing up against the inside of Amy's thighs, he wondered what it was like for her to look up, immobilized, at the man who was about to trespass into that most private spot, the one at her very core. He fingered her again... still dry. He had no desire to hurt the girl, so he doused his prick liberally with lube. No condom, of course—everyone had been tested ahead of time (and with happily-married couples the risk was low anyway). The Biggest Dick always rode his women bareback.

Relishing this moment, Dave placed the fleshy tip of his cock against the dimple at the entrance to her temple. At this touch, Amy tried (unsuccessfully) to suppress a writhe and a whimper. Then he dug his feet into the industrial carpet, grasped her hipbones firmly, like handles, and began to press his way inside. Each thrust took him no more than a quarter of an inch deeper. God, she was tight. Not virginal, but definitely taut. Somehow this surprised him—for most of his married life, Dave realized, he'd been fucking a vagina that had undergone childbirth, and he'd long since forgotten how much of a difference it made. He knew he was supposed to enjoy this snug little twat, but instead he found it somewhat disconcerting, or maybe just disorienting. Of course the fact that Amy wasn't really liking this didn't help either. And then, too, his tool wasn't only long, but carried a pretty decent girth as well. It was a good thing he was so hard, since this was clearly going to be a struggle.

Fortunately, Amy didn't want to get hurt either, and had at least stopped actively resisting him. He could tell she was trying to slow her quick, shallow breaths, to will her muscles to limpness, to suppress the instinctive resentment triggered by his assault, and to just let the whole experience wash over and past her. She no longer tried to look away, either, but just gazed in his general direction with a blank stare. This woman was his, he thought, she'd given up trying to avoid getting fucked by this strange man and was resigned to letting it happen.

He began to thrust harder, deeper, more aggressively—and inch by slow inch, his cock burrowed its way into her vagina. He looked down, and his excitement only heightened as the visible part of this shaft—the gap between balls and pussy—gradually narrowed. He began to give a raspy grunt with each drive of his pelvis. The rhythm was becoming unstoppable, irresistible: pull out just slightly, gather himself, dig his fingers into her flanks, and then, wham!, another quarter inch deeper. Over and over and over. Amy's breathing was even shallower now, almost a pant. Her lips hung open slightly, and with each push a little moan escaped them—not a moan of ecstasy, he had to admit to himself, but perhaps of mourning for what he was taking from her, or maybe just of soreness.

It was at the very moment when he hit maximum depth—the first time his groin made contact with Amy's pussy and rubbed up against her clit, the first time his balls gave a satisfying thwack against her ass, that Dave suddenly felt someone's gaze. He looked up and locked eyes with Chas, squatting naked on his haunches now, at the other side of the room. What was the man thinking?, Dave wondered as he took another heave into Amy's cunt. It was hard to tell. The haggard look on Chas' face seemed a mix of emotions—anger, yes, but also loss, and fascination, and revulsion, and defeat.

Rocky had caught the glance, of course. Dave had been ignoring the emcee's idiotic play-by-play, but now that booming voice broke into his consciousness again. "Chas, my man, you're one tough hombre! Sitting there, looking that man in the eye, while he fucks your old lady's brains out. Just look at how Dave's working her little pussy!" (Dave had started rubbing Amy's clit again, while grinding side-to-side, pelvis to perineum, trying to work his dick just another millimeter or two deeper inside Amy's body.) "I mean, my God man, it's not just that he's got his pipe up Amy's cunt. Sure, that'd be bad enough. But then you know, like I know, that that pipe is about to spill! You know that's one fertile little bitch you've got there. She ripe. She's in heat. And here you're watching this man, going deeper inside her than you've ever been able to do, about to squirt his sperm all up inside her ovaries, man! Yup, he's about to fill that girl up with his mighty seed. Why, I don't know how you aren't just bawling your eyes out right about now." A tear tricked down Chas' cheek. Amy flinched.

Dave continuing pounding his cock rhythmically into Amy's hole. She still wasn't really wet, but her cunt was stretched out a little now, and the lube helped. What had Rocky been blathering about?, he thought to himself. Fertile? Sperm? With a start, Dave realized that despite all his fantasizing over the last three months, somehow he had never quite thought this game all the way through to its ultimate stakes. It had seemed odd that they made Brenda have her IUD removed. At the time, he had assumed it was just one more of the medical requirements. Yeah, he recalled, there had been pages and pages of medications and medical conditions that were banned, or cause for rejection. And scattered among those restrictions had been things like... birth control pills, right? And vasectomies... God, how was it that he had never stopped to consider what this all meant? Was it that he and Brenda had been out of the baby-making business for so long now? Or was it just that he was a guy?

At any rate, his lizard-brain was considering the implications now. Its drive to reproduce was in high gear, and it was whispering sweet nothings in his ear. This fertile young woman, lying with her legs open before him, soft little pussy spread wide, his dick jammed inside: she hadn't just given him her marital fidelity, hadn't just given him her cunt—no, she had opened her unguarded womb to him. He was about to put a baby inside her, and limp-dick Chas was going to raise it for him. What a chump!

This realization would have been too much for most men to bear. Certainly Dave couldn't hold out any longer. He pulled his cock back one last time, leaving just the head inside her. Then he let out a guttural yell—maybe of triumph, maybe purely emotional release—and slammed it home, as goddamn deep as it would go. He arched his back, ground his pelvis against her, and felt his prick swelling and pulsing as it gushed jet after jet of sperm high up into Amy's womb. Two weeks worth of cum surged through Amy's cunt, swirling in and around his cock, as it continued to thrust and tingle, questing for any unfilled corner of her body. Then, abruptly, its mission accomplished, his dick began to shrink.

The stage was hushed as Dave pulled out. Amy closed her eyes and scrunched up her face. Oily white blobs of cum oozed out of her red and swollen pussy. Brenda, he saw, had by now backed to the very edge of the set, hunching her shoulders slightly as she stared resolutely offstage and tried to maintain her composure. Dave looked at the clock: he had used seven minutes out of his half-hour.

"Jeez man," Rocky said with just a hint of disdain, "I didn't mean you needed to fill her up right away!"

-----

By the time they returned to the hotel suite that evening, Dave had his swagger back. He felt like a conquering hero, in fact. He knew Brenda hadn't enjoyed the day's events, that was clear enough. And, really, why should she? No, the only reason that she had come here was for the money—and for what that money could mean to her family. Her nature was just too conventional, and too risk-averse (he told himself) to appreciate a game like this in all its dimensions.

But still, he reflected, she must be impressed with him after that performance—mustn't she? Surely, in her heart, she felt lucky, and proud, that she had hooked up with a man who had proven himself so potent as Dave had today—a man whose superior phallus was a signifier of his ability to protect his wife, dominate women, and work his will on men. No doubt in time she would come to appreciate having had the chance to see her husband in this new light.

He stripped down to his boxers (second time today) and sat on the side of the bed. He was wired after the excitement of the afternoon, and his mind raced. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for hours. The running commentary that filled his head was all about the scenarios for tomorrow's match—especially for the last segment, after he had won. Now that I've had my hands on that damn joystick, he thought, I'll be ready. Next time I'll give that machine a run for its money. And I'll manage my time properly too. Won't be so quick on the draw—really draw out the game with the woman before I inseminate her. The crowd is going to eat this up!

He was daydreaming about what tomorrow's victim (the female half of the couple, to be precise) might look like, when a cough from Brenda brought him out of it. She was standing near the foot of the bed, half-turned in his direction, still fully dressed. It appeared that her train of thought and his own inner conversation had run in very different directions. "Dave, I'm glad things went... well today. We did what we came here to do, and that's a good thing." She smoothed out the wrinkled cashier's checks and laid them in a pile on the corner of the bed. "We won a lot of money. But this resort's not so hot, and I miss the kids. Honey, let's cut the trip short and just grab a flight home."

Jeez, he thought, she never had even glanced at the rules, had she? Did she honestly think this was a one-and-done deal? Well, in point of fact, it could have been one-and-done. Winning contestants on The Biggest Dick had the option to play again, up to a total of three days. However, there was no requirement to do so—only the inducement of exponentially increasing prizes. The truly salient fact was that Dave had no intention of quitting now. This game was pussy in the bank, so to speak.