The Size Adademy 2 [fan fiction]

castor12

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Some quick whispered instructions and the boys got into position as best they could. Tim did what Mark himself had done to Jason way back, before he'd done any fucking himself—it may have been only ten days ago, but it seemed like months, so much had happened since. He reached in around Mark from behind with both hands and found Junior's thick root. Damn: it was too hefty in its girth for him to encircle it in his hands; so he couldn't make a complete tourniquet. Instead he gripped the mighty beast as securely as he could, then felt for those thick veins which ran along the upper side and pressed down as hard as he could with his fingers. Damn, those veins were bigger than his fingers; he supposed they needed to be, given Junior's requirements for his blood supply. He felt Junior resist his squeeze and press hard against it; he must have got it right.

Jason was looking from the side, and saw Junior swell up another degree or two with the extra pressure from the partial tourniquet. His job was to enhance that swelling in one special area—his head. Junior's neck would be the easiest and narrowest point at which to encircle him, but it was right up at Chloe's entrance; to grab him there would rob him of movement. Two or three inches lower down Junior had almost widened out to the standard calibre he maintained all the way back to his base many inches lower down, but there were some prominent veins at that point and Jason was willing to bet that firm pressure applied to those would enhance Junior's swollen head very nicely indeed.

He reached in, carefully felt his way round the great beast, and began to squeeze, first gently, then more firmly. A groan from Mark; then a yelp of alarm from Chloe. Result! Jason peered in as best he could. He couldn't see his head, of course, but he felt Junior furiously pressing back against his grip, and what he could see confirmed what he felt—after days of almost continuous stimulation and training, Junior was bigger than ever.

It was often like that for really enormously hung guys, when they were growing. Jason remembered those times when something or other had brought Alex to the peak of excitement and to attain a bursting erection that looked and felt bigger than any he'd had before; the amazing thing was how quickly yesterday's summit became today's new standard until the next sudden gain.

Enough reminiscence; his growth, by and large, was safely over and done with. While this amazing guy was still setting new records. Time to help him. He began to shift the mighty beast, using his grip just below his neck to stir his super-swollen head against the stretched walls of Chloe's entrance. Clockwise. Anticlockwise. Up. Down. Left. Right. The great oversized head was stretched still further with its congested blood system: so, make her feel the size, make her stretch wider, make her give way to accommodate him. Then the inhuman girth of those final inches would come as less of a shock. Though from the limited view Jason had as Mark's body shifted forward and back down towards the bed—he doubted it.

Time to renew the fucking. The guys let go of Junior, Tim giving Mark a slap on the backside: 'Over to you, buddy!'

Of course they could all hear Chloe yell at Mark to come back in deep and finish the job. She didn't stop pleading with him to ram it all in, to bury Junior in to the hilt, whatever it took. Even if it half killed her. But as Karen watched the fuck resume she saw that her fiancé resolutely ignored these appeals and took complete control. He had the mastery, he owned what had to be the most spectacular pleasure machine on the planet. It was his right to deploy it, his freedom to exert its power in this fuck or any other fuck in any way he chose.

Patiently, carefully, with growing confidence and skill, Mark began to assert these rights. He thrust in a few inches and stopped. Then he began a series of short staccato jabs which despite the shallow depth of penetration were enough to drive Chloe to a frenzy, and she was dissolving round him. Then he drove forward again, inch after inch, until he was almost as deep as he had been earlier. Another series of short vicious thrusts; with so much more of him powering in and out of her, Chloe's orgasm came all the more quickly. Then he withdrew a few inches, deaf to all her protests, and repeated the process.

Be a control freak for a while. Don't let her discern any pattern at all to Junior's movements. Tease her and go on teasing her. Until her desperation for your size builds up to such a longing that she is driven crazy. Meanwhile, suppress Junior's own demands for quick resolution and make him wait. That will make him all the more ardent—all the more swollen. Just enjoy all the different sensations you can—deep fucking, shallow fucking, mid range fucking—they're a different, and all good. Yes. But deep fucking is best.

At last Junior's own needs and demands were no longer to be ignored. That's right. Wait until she has quietened down, until she has given up any attempt to tell you how to fuck, wait until the moment she least expects it. Mark was just about to unleash Junior's full power. To feel safer in doing so he supported himself on one hand while reaching down with the other to Junior's base. At the moment there must be at least a foot of shaft out in the open. But not for long! He put his hand on Junior's flank as a stop to prevent him going in all the way at the risk of injury.

OK. A little stir with Junior to mask his intentions. She mustn't have any idea what's coming. So now: IN BOY!

Oh fuck. What a fucking great lunge! Not only did that knock Chloe's breath out of her as Junior took her completely by surprise, after all the delay it was also too much for him. Junior began hissing and belching before he'd finished his stroke. And now, here he was, still discharging into the very furthest reaches of Chloe's body. But could he reach further? Mark waited for Junior to finish, felt him stiffen up, then removed his blocking hand.

Time to apply some gentle rocking pressure. Gently, back and forth a little. And side to side, let Junior probe. Let him find his own way in this sweet girl's secret places. Which would forever belong to no one else but him. As Mark wondered how many women might in the end be persuaded to reserve their own secret innermost recesses just for him, he felt Junior swell with pride. Boy he was getting a big head in more ways than one. Time to get back on the job.

Push a little, at just this angle. A little more. Yes! Junior began to sink in deeper. And deeper still. At last. Dare he put more weight behind Junior, and push him in all the way? Yes. As that last section juddered in Mark delighted in it all: the feeling of close tight compression all around his enormous glans, but also her warm body surrounding him, cosseting every inch of him all the way back to where that vast root was being deliciously but ineffectually squeezed by her overmatched entrance.

Fuck. She was coming, in great waves which seemed to be winding Junior's erection up still further. All the time she was telling him that there was no one like him, that she needed him to fuck her every day of her life. The next extra morsel of pleasure, however tiny, would send Junior over the edge. It came: Mark pushed down a little more resolutely on Chloe's mound and Junior was forced a quarter of an inch still deeper. Within seconds he was shuddering as he tried to cope with the oversized load being fired up his tube.

How to bring this fuck to an end, when Junior was still aching as if he were made of steel after his third explosion? Mark didn't like repetition, but he thought he'd make an exception today. The Tree. This time he could perhaps do it more or less on his own. He pushed himself down the bed. Great: as he had expected, the fit was so tight that Chloe came with him. Ok: Jason and Tim seemed to know what he was doing and were reaching in to help. That would be safer. His feet found the floor and now with their help and the strength of his own back muscles he was lifting Chloe up, still skewered on every inch of his cock.

Oh fuck. This felt great. He had never felt so powerful, so enormously potent. But for a moment, as he stood there letting them all admire his strength, or rather the strength of his fifth limb, Mark wondered his his life was going to go. There was no doubt he could spend twelve or sixteen hours of every day doing just this. Junior was equal to it. More than. But was he? What was his hope of a rounded, half balanced life in other respects with the insatiable demands of his terrifying penis to appease every day?

But put those thoughts aside. Just enjoy the moment. You thought you could never fuck at all. Now you have skewered no less than five women at full depth. And now Junior is bigger than ever, and you are parading around in front of a crowd of guys and girls with one of them supported just by his strength alone. They all love him. Enjoy it!

Meanwhile, Chloe had her arms around his neck and was leaning in to kiss him, all the while telling him how incredible it felt to have Junior all the way inside her. And to feel his power as he carried her around the room. As she planted her lips on his, Mark remembered that he still had one more 'student' to service tonight. Alysen. Mark grinned ruefully as Junior's immediate reaction to that thought was enough on its own to mean that she ended up planting her kiss, not on his lips, but on the end of his nose.
 
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[Back at last in the voice of Alysen.]

It was damn hard waiting on my own in that room down the corridor. What was I supposed to do? Catch up on my work? Put in a dutiful call to my parents? Watch TV? Read a novel? When it was clear from the shouts and cheers that Chloe was following Tiffany and had done the impossible—hidden every last millimetre of the monstrous penis from view—I leapt up from my chair and began to pace the room. It felt far worse than waiting for a school exam to begin, or to be called in for an interview. I had prided myself on my experience and skill in making love to men of size. I had given seminar after seminar: on how to prepare yourself to receive a very large penis; how to approach the fuck; how to drown a massive penis in pleasure; how to drive its owner wild. And so on and so on. Supposing now, as the self-proclaimed Mistress of Size, I should be the one who was defeated by Junior's astounding dimensions in front of all her students? Utter humiliation!

I thought back to my first ever meeting with Jason; and to the appalling pain radiating through my whole body as I tried to force myself to accept the final two inches of his massive cock. I had passed out with the pain and shock of it; but I had succeeded, and had never regretted it. My addiction and virtual enslavement to Jason had stemmed from that moment when I had refused to let the pain and terror defeat me. So the same must happen today. Mark had already pushed me further down this path than even Jason could, several inches further in fact. It had been fascinating and entrancing to watch this handsome, slightly bashful man grow into a sense of the colossal power and authority he wielded between his legs. And to see Junior himself grow and flourish through all the excitement and attention which had been continually and lavishly heaped on him since he came here. And grow he had. When I'd first saw Junior I had made the mistake of thinking he was just like Alex, though maybe a little bigger. What a fool I had been ... once Mark had shed his initial reticence and nervousness Junior had begun to show his full utterly terrifying potential. He was in a class of his own. But I must deal with him, take the pain, whatever it took.

At long last the door opened and Jasmine came to tell me that it was time. I followed her down the passage, my heart pounding away like a girl on her first date. The room was packed, but of course my eyes sought first for the man himself. There he was, leaning back in an easy chair, while one student was mopping his brow as another handed him cans of drink. He looked out of it, as well he might. How much rest had he and Junior been allowed since first thing this morning? Not much if my information was correct. I looked down to see my nemesis.

Mark had his massive thighs wide apart, and there, looped over the prominent pillow of his sack, then over the edge of the seat, then way down towards the floor, lay Junior. Lolling there, complacently accepting and lapping up all the attention being showed upon him. Somehow four girls had jostled into the space between his legs, and they were attending to him, two from each side. Under Erica's direction two of them were soothing him with moisturiser, while the other two were still milking him; as I watched they were tugging rather clumsily down towards his neck and a great splat of cum fell out of his slit. Just like burping a baby. But what a baby! I took all of this in immediately; and for a moment I felt very proud of the academy; whoever had asked those four newcomers to service Junior like that had been right on track. You could almost feel those girls having their lives changed for ever by what they had the privilege of seeing and touching.

I closed the door behind me. Mark looked up: doubtless other people did too, but I was oblivious to them. I was gazing at Junior; and I saw it: a slight twitch and a blush speeding down his shaft, and the dynamics in the room were suddenly altered. His 'master' might be tired. But Junior was clearly readying himself for action. As the girls took their hands away I gazed at him as he began the long process; however many times I witnessed it, I never tired of it.

Mark beckoned me over, and asked me, first if I was ready for him, and then how I would like to take him. Of course I wasn't ready for him; how could any woman ever be ready for that, I thought, as I saw Junior tremble and shake from a mighty inflow of blood. But of course I said yes, I was ready. Even though I didn't feel it. I wasn't at all prepared for the second question, and before I could get my brain into action I found myself pointing to the recliner. It was obviously the right answer as far as one person was concerned; Junior gave a great enthusiastic bound upwards.

Now Mark was up from his chair and as Junior put the finishing touches to a magnificent erection the four girls were tenderly applying lube under Erica's direction. While I was being seated in the same chair by no less a person than Jason himself; he knelt down and began to prepare me and test me with mouth, tongue, and fingers. I was soon dripping with moisture; what a lucky woman I was to have such a man in my life; he could have made my pussy liquify just by looking at me in a certain way, but of course he did so much more.

Then he was pulling me out of the chair, and leading me over to Mark. I came in from the side to avoid the great canon projecting from his groin, and embraced the man I was about to fuck, the man who might soon be destroying me. Then we held hands and I led him to the recliner. As if this apparatus was designed for his torture, as if he were the condemned person, not me. He clambered onto the seat with some difficulty, Junior swaying wildly about.

There was movement from the other side of the room; Brandon was at the panel of light switches. After a little bit of trial and error, he got the effect he wanted; the whole room was in darkness exept for an intense beam of light on the scene of my impending triumph. Or disaster. There was a thick strap coiled up under the seat which I'd only seen used once before. But once Mark had settled himself I attached it at one end, and then with Jared's help looped it tightly round his groin and thighs to leave Junior free, his balls unrestricted, his legs free to move, but his hips tied firmly to the seat. As if he were about to be the helpess 'victim', not me!

Mark was letting me take control, or at least the illusion of it. So I grabbed the control cord. I pushed on the button. And, with me standing carefully to the side out of the circle of light, the poor 'victim' lay helpless as his hips rose and his head and shoulders fell, the precisely applied strap maintaining Junior's absolutely vertical position. There he was, the mighty monolith, gleaming in the light, inch after inch after inch of him towering above the rest of Mark's prone body as if he were trying to touch the ceiling. His dominance of the room was absolute. Murmurs of 'Fuck!', came from where the guys were sitting; the girls were silent. Camera bulbs flashed.

Perhaps this was the nearest we had come to collective adoration: here was a monolith well worthy of it. But I made my own special contribution by going around to the opposite side from those watching and leaning over to plant a wet kiss on Junior's side, right at his base. This was a declaration of intent; this was where my pussy lips needed to be after not too many minutes. I looked again at the appalling girth—it was like a tree trunk, impossible. I felt my insides cramp in panic. But now I reached over to jiggle and jostle one of his outsize gonads, and was rewarded by a groan of pleasure from Mark.

Then it was time for me to complete my act of worship; tonguing and kissing my way up the impossible column until at last I was at the furthest tip. Cameras continued to flash. As I went I could feel and see Junior continuing to gain new vigour and new bulk; he was a willing recipient of all the loving attention and respect I was paying him. What a change from when he'd first come here!

But no more of this. I couldn't put off my ultimate test any longer. Every kiss and lick I administered seemed simply to make him bigger and stiffer and therefore the severity of my challenge that much greater. Somehow I was going to find room in my body for this monstrous pillar. Now or never. I stretched up to give Junior one last kiss, right on his tip, then prepared for action. A long steady push on the switch lowered Mark's hips almost to the floor, while simultaneously raising his head. Now I could stand in the stirrups, which anchored my feet well apart, and my pussy entrance was defenceless, just three or four inches above where Junior's 'eye' was fixed straight on it. A merciless hungry 'stare'.

Mark reached forward to keep Junior on target. I pressed the button.
 
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The mechanism slowly lifted Mark's ass up from its starting position near the floor. Junior's tip was closing the gap. I took my finger from the button and held him there, with Junior just half an inch from plunging himself into my wide open entrance and shouldering my lips wide apart to clear his path. Man: the heat coming off him! I closed my eyes for a minute and let my pussy feel it. But Mark was losing his patience, and Junior was clearly wound up to fever pitch, and wouldn't tolerate delay. As I waited there a little longer, Mark began to grab Junior in a desperate attempt to reach me by shifting him from one side to the other. When that failed, he began to try to push himself up from the chair; twisting and heaving and grunting in a desperate attempt to close the gap and begin his assault. To no avail: the straps binding him to the seat were too tight.

But once Mark had ceased his futile squirming, and just as I began to fear I'd be lynched by the crowd for cruelty and disrespect to this truly majestic penis, I felt the unmistakeable touch of the hot smooth skin of Junior's tip nosing up to me—in his impatient fury Junior had surged up to close the gap himself. I looked down. Oh shit. With me standing up, with his body in front of me still only just above floor level; his cock was slanting all the way up, already at my entrance, prising my lips apart. I had to press that button and keep pressing it until Mark's crotch was right up in the air, pressing against mine, and that whole column was safely lodged inside me. 'Safely'? As if!

No more delay. I began, and Junior moved irresistibly upwards, with that arrogant pressure forcing me wider and wider as he entered that I ought to be well accustomed to by now. But could a woman ever get used to the shock of it? His size still came as a stretching, punishing ordeal, no matter how many times I received it. I held my nerve, and did my best to hold my cool, though I couldn't help but cry out when for a moment Junior's fat corona was held up from entering by its sheer girth and his flesh seemed to be bulking up behind my overtaxed pussy lips. In a second or two my pussy gave way—as usual, she had no choice, and I had the whole of his head inside me. Even after all this practice with him, his automatic surge and swell as he took full possession took my breath away. As I dissolved around him in my first cum I bathed him in warmth; he rightly took it as my pussy's first tribute to his size and power—he was thickening and stretching in his arrogant pleasure.

How to fuck him? I wanted to give him the best fuck I could devise, since Mark had in effect given me the control of his mighty dick; it was up to me to ensure that as much pleasure was heaped on Junior as he could handle. I wanted to take him to new heights until Mark was begging me to stop pouring the joy onto him. Not that I would stop, of course. Let's bring Junior to the biggest erection he's ever had, let's provoke him to such a level that he can't stop spewing out rivers of cum. Until even those vast balls are begging for an end.

Let's begin slowly and wind up and up from there. I reapplied the pressure, and held my breath as the first section of Junior's shaft drove up into me, pushing that swollen bulk of his head deeper and deeper, and my cunt began its familiar task of stretching and expanding for him. Oh fuck: despite all my experience with Jason, Junior's sheer bulk always felt like a sudden punishment. I was aiming to take him to roughly a twelve inch depth on this first stroke. Yes, this was about it; I felt him pushing up far beyond where any normal guy could reach, and he was already at that place somewhere under my belly button where months ago Jason had cruelly and selfishly planted a deep nagging itch that only he could relieve. Until now!

Ok. I was there. Now shift direction, and feel Junior's slow reluctant withdrawal. All the way, until I feel the terrifying rim of the corona just begin to tug at my lips. Further up my hungry pussy was trying to grip and seize what's no longer there. Ok: send him in again, just a little faster this time. And a little deeper. Eight inches in; seven inches out, as near as I could guess. Repeat. And repeat. Again and again. I knew that these would be colossally long strokes for even a very well endowed man, and for obvious reasons they would be impossible for 99% of the men on the planet. They were simply not equipped to give and receive the pleasure of the amazing pressure and friction, that glorious feeling Jason had so often tried to convey to me, when a hugely long penis is driven in, inch after inch after inch.

But of course for Junior these strokes were not long at all; to him I supposed they felt like what a mere two inch jab might feel to an average man. Pleasurable, but maybe nothing special. All the time, of course, I was working Junior in deeper, but taking a while over it, partly for my own comfort and partly to build up his own anticipation. I looked at where Mark was leaning back in the chair, his head lolling on the cushion and his eyes shut. He was concentrating on what Junior was feeling; the sensations pouring into Junior's vast nervous system must take every ounce of his attention. That's what he was doing; trying his best to process the pleasure signals cascading up into him. It can't have been easy for him. But I resolved to make it still harder for him. Now step by step I increased both the speed and length of the strokes, still doing my best to limit the net inward progress each time to an inch or less.

Mark began to groan; he was writhing about on the seat, which shifted Junior painfully and dangerously about inside me; when I began to cry out he immediately stopped still. But Junior was beyond the point of no return; he was fattening and stretching inside me as the familiar pouring and bubbling sounds in his groin heralded the jets of hot liquid he began to hose up into me. But I carried on regardless, still plunging him up into me and down put of me as he fired. One more stroke and I was coming too, and for a moment I let the control cord drop from my fingers.

As my contractions lessened I realised that at last, this was it. The moment of truth. An utterly massive erection, speared right into me, sending waves of pressure into every part of my torso. Filling me with his massive bulk and inhuman length. As big as he'd ever been, I thought; and I felt him quiver inside me with the threat of more size, more stretching and more pain. The room had gone silent. My audience was waiting for me to bring Junior's triumphant evening to its conclusion. They knew I was the expert; they had no doubts about my abilities. But I had plenty.

I looked down. Hell, I must be speared to breaking point on nineteen, more likely twenty inches of this impossible penis. My whole body was dominated by it, from where its probing tip was threatening to puncture me to where its sheer girth was threatening to split my labia wide open. I could hardly breathe around his bulk, he must be interfering with my heart beat and my digestion. The tops of my feet were aching where the pressure was forcing them up against the straps fixed to the floor. But I hadn't done the job; I hadn't even got as far as I had before. And there they were; more inches of Junior's fat base section, waiting, none too patiently, for the final brutal conquest. He would destroy me.

Should I stop now and admit defeat? I couldn't. I groped for the switch. For a moment I pressed the withdraw button, and as Mark's body lowered an inch was pulled out of me, bringing my poor pussy lips along with it. For a brief moment, blessed relief from the pressure, and I could breathe just a little easier. But before I could think again, I pressed resolutely on the other button and Junior was slowly reoccupying all the space and taking more. Shit. The pressure was unbearable; waves of pain were flooding out from where that colossal cockhead was drilled so far up inside me. This was the limit, surely. But no, I still couldn't feel the comforting bulk of his vast balls sack spreading up against me. He had more to give. And I had to take it.

I pressed on that damn button once more; but after that, I remember nothing .
 
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When I came to it took me a little while to get my head together. Where was I? What was I doing? And of course the first thing I was conscious of was the thick rod thrust so far up into my body and dominating me, filling me with its iron hard stiffness and its heat. Oh fuck: THIS is what I'm doing. Had I finally conquered him and taken him to full depth? The pressure seemed a little less, though it was still almost more than I could bear. Had I succeeded? Was the pressure diminishing because I was getting used to him? I opened my eyes.

I didn't need to ask. Several pairs of anxious male eyes were peering down at me; clearly the men were taking charge. I saw Brandon first of all; as I looked into his sweet troubled face I suddenly realised that he was cradling my head in his hands. To either side were Joe and Tim, who'd obviously jumped up from their places to grab me in case I fell. Not that there was much chance of that, I thought: with that great pillar jammed so far up in me there would be zero chance of me crashing to the ground—I would have retained excellent posture even while in a dead faint. Something about that struck me as funny, and I began to laugh. Or at least I tried to laugh; Junior seemed to be blocking me, and as my body began to shake I felt him stiffen and expand in response. Oh hell.

And there was Jason; obviously in command, standing just a little in front of me to the right. His troubled expression told me all I needed to know. I hadn't made it; I had failed. He was clearly worried that I might have injured myself by trying to take Junior in too far. On the other side was Jared, equally troubled. And—how utterly weird to see him last of all—was the source of all this pain and anxiety, Mark. He looked utterly exhausted, totally out of it, head right back in the chair cushion, his body completely prone, his arms hanging loosely down. No strength left in him at all: or at least that is what I would have concluded had I not been in possession of massive evidence to the contrary—inch after inch after throbbing and pulsing inch of it.

Erica later told me what had happened. For a moment no one realised that anything was the matter: as they saw the machine drive Junior deeper into me they thought I was flopping in reaction to an intense cum. But as soon as they realised I had fainted, it was the boys who sprang up to try to prevent a disaster. I was out of it; Mark was out of it. So as fast as he could Jason had grabbed the controls, first making sure which one to press, and quickly lowered Mark four or five inches back down; enough to reduce the appalling pressure without inflicting the pain and difficulty of a total withdrawal.

So that is how things stood when I finally gathered my wits. I realised that Jason's next move, now that I was back in the room as it were, would be to bring this overmatched fuck to an end by resuming his pressure on the button that would pull Junior out of me, inch by inch. Yes. He must have pressed, and as Tim and Joe reached around to hold me steady I felt the enormous rod begin to move slowly out of me. He was so insanely huge that even his slow withdrawal caused such dramatic shifts of pressure that my nervous system lurched back towards panic mode. But it wasn't that which made me cry out.

'NOOOO!' I yelled it so loudly that I shocked even myself. But as I told them that having come so far I had no intention whatsoever of giving up, and that I needed the boys to help me make a final attempt, the atmosphere in the room began to alter. All the while Jason was peering at me, trying to decide whether I was in my right mind, whether he should permit this potentially destructive act of grossly extreme penetration. Jason and the others were all gathered round, wearing their robes, rather in the manner of medical staff round the operating table. But there was one difference: Erica told me later that she could tell when the collective decision had been made to proceed with this insane project, not so much by anything that was said, but when Jason's robe began to lift. Soon it was lifting and moving and projecting ominously way out in front of him. The others followed; once they realised it was game on five superbly well endowed guys could not conceal their interest.

Jason took charge. He told Jared to untie the heavy strap which was binding Mark so tightly to the seat. He needed to be able to move when Junior got back in very deep: he'd need that freedom to find his opening, to change his angles a little bit if he were to have any chance of getting right in. Jared obliged, not forgetting to gently add more lube to the seven or eight inch length of Junior now on view. Boy: look at those massive veins, look at that cum tube! To him it seemed thick enough to dwarf most guys' full erections. He reached down as took the liberty of stroking the side of one of those immense testes. What a guy this was! The size, the weight, the sheer scale of what he had to carry around each day. He deserved and needed any help the rest of them could give in winning this victory. Jared, for one, was happy to give it.

But now Jason was telling Brandon to keep cradling my head (the sweet guy leant over and kissed me on the forehead) and Tim and Joe to hold my shoulders steady. He asked me one more time whether I wanted to go through with this, and reminded me that I could tell him to stop at any time. Because it was Jason who was going to control the massive cock which belonged to his friend. Not the owner himself; not me. Who better than Jason, after all, to orchestrate this act of extreme penetration? He had been honing his skills in deep long-dicking for years; Mark, though much the bigger guy, had only just begun.

Jason gave the gentlest touch to the control, and watched intently. The mechanism stirred into life and once again I felt Junior move up to take possession of the territory he had been occupying. It felt frightening—it would have been easy to panic as the pressure and the stretching came back in full measure. But even up here, in the furthest recesses I could open to him, I had been longing for him. Desiring him, craving for him.

Jason took it slowly; so slowly that Mark began to groan in his impatience. He was so far gone by this stage (he explained later) that he was just desperate to ram the whole thing up into me so that be could come. And get some rest at last. Slowly, slowly. But soon I began to feel those feelings I'd had earlier—feelings of being utterly stuffed, of being at breaking point with no more room to give. Mark was shifting by now, clearly trying to find new angles for Junior, searching for an opening, for more room to fill. It felt to me as if I had reached the limit.

But I could see that Jason's finger was still gently pressing down.
 

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I was crammed so full, so tight, and it seemed to me that Junior's blunt tip must be throbbing just below my throat, somewhere just under my chest. How could my pussy walls have become so stretched, as to accommodate such an excess of penetrating flesh? I had no idea; I knew that some women make a huge fuss if their cervix risks being bruised by an oversized penis. Well, "oversized" doesn't begin to do justice to men like Jason and Mark: and I knew that my cervix had been brushed aside, by-passed, and left many inches behind. But now I felt the appalling pressure so intensely that I knew I had reached my limit; I must be where I had been earlier this evening—back at my absolute bursting maximum.

First I looked down and felt down with my hands. I couldn't see very well, but my hands confirmed that my fears were correct. I could still get my hands to cup the side of his shaft comfortably between his groin and mine. That meant nearer three inches to go than two. Had I lost ground or had he gained length? Probably, knowing Junior, the latter, but it didn't really matter which. Hell: it meant that either I must give up or accept the risk of more pain than I could bear. But maybe that was not after all such a difficult decision for an addict like me.

I gritted my teeth, looked across at Jason, and nodded. The mechanism whirred into action and I felt the impossible pressure increase still further. I tried to vent my pain, but somehow Junior was blocking me. And now I felt the colossal beast inside me begin to stir and shift inside me; finally Mark seemed to be recovering from his stupor and to be fully reconnecting with his cock. He was trying to be delicate with his probing and shifting, trying to move his hips just a fraction in order to alter Junior's angle of attack very subtly; but however careful he might be, Junior was built on a scale which debarred him from subtlety and finely controlled delicate movements. As his great dome shifted inside me I thought he would split me apart.

But Mark really was coming fully back on the scene, taking back control of his fuck, and I heard him talking to Jason: 'I think I can feel a hint of an opening: could you pull me out two or three inches for a minute so I can get a better angle?' Jason complied; and it was just as well that Joe and Tim were holding me up, or Junior would have forced my knees to buckle and taken me down with him. Now Mark shifted his hips a little further down the seat and I was overwhelmed by the mighty column as its upper reaches moved inside me, to a slightly more acute angle of assault. Damn: the feeling of utter helplessness as these guys worked as a team to subdue me to the power and pleasure of what had to be the mightiest penis ever to sprout from a human groin. But if I truly wanted to be the 'Mistress of Size', this was what had to happen.

He was coming back up; slowly he took back all the space; but this time Jason kept his finger on the button. I was in for it: a condemned woman. There was a moment when the pressure escalated to a point that I could no longer bear, and I was just about to call a halt and admit failure, when without warning I felt something shift and give inside me. Somehow my overtaxed body was finding still more room to concede to the implacable invader, and it felt as if Junior's upper section was now realigning more in accordance with his natural curve.

Jason kept the pressure at a constant and very delicate level, and at the slowest possible speed Mark's groin was being forced up towards mine. Junior took full possession of me, a tenth of an inch at a time. I felt every tiny fraction of him come in. Shit, I felt him. How I felt every inch of him!

I felt him force my widely parted lips even further; the pressure up in my chest had overshadowed the abuse my poor cunt was subjected to down there; but now I felt it in full measure. Boy: if a woman were ever to be fucked till she split wide open it would have to be me, right now. And at the other extreme I felt him probing still higher, finding still more space for himself and occupying it, as if he were taking full and permanent possession. And of course all those inches in between: throbbing, swelling, dominating. Has there ever been a cock more capable of filling a woman to the limits of her capacity and beyond? In those few minutes,while everyone in the room gd their breath, I was being reconfigured, totally dominated, enslaved.

At last I felt it; first the soft mass of his ballsack spreading wide over my thighs and ass, then the firmer touch of his groin on mine. I had him all! Oh fuck. With one final push on the controls Junior pushed in his final fraction and I closed my eyes and shut my ears to all the shouted congratulations and tuned my attention to the glorious painful feel of him as he began to heave and swell as he prepared to celebrate his victory by coming. I myself was already coming; I realised that I had been enduring a series of spastic cums for the last part of this fuck, finally my anxiety and fear had fallen away and allowed me to connect.

Mark screamed as he tried to force himself still deeper; even though my feet were still in the stirrups and two of the boys were holding me tight, it was to no avail, even his strong muscles failed to lift his hips more than a fraction. But that fraction was enough to launch Junior into the most lavish cum I had seen him produce; he hosed blast after blast of his hot syrup into me, and when at last I thought the flow was diminishing he simply thrust up his hips again, groaned, and began to unleash still more.

But now the villain was giving instructions to his friend. Not to do what I had assumed, to end this overmatched fuck and call a halt to his evening's work. No: he was asking his co-conspirator Jason to help him give me a final seeing-to, a final deep fuck. He asked for slow strokes out, just two or three inches at first; but fast jabs back in. I knew what he was doing. Driving my need for him still deeper into my body and my psyche. Carving out that space for himself that would always be there for him. And only him. Creating that cruel need in me so that I should always ache for him. Cruel: but as I felt him exert his power over me (with Jason's expert help!) I knew that I was his willing accomplice. I just had to make sure that I never lost touch with this amazing man and his brutal, glorious cunt-splitter.

Sophia later told me that this was the moment she finally realised that the seeds of her own addiction were beginning to take root in her. Even though it was a grotesque sight: the strange apparatus, the guys holding me down onto the cruel pressure, the obscene noises of such an extreme fuck, the enormous overladen ballsack grotesquely wobbling and jiggling as Mark rose and fell. She was hooked. And she knew that she needed to begin the training that would take her to where I was: so that she too could be fucked like that.

Eventually, just I was reaching the limits of my endurance, the merciful end came. Mark shouted to Jason to shove him in as deep as he could get, and as he rocketed up into me I felt Junior swell. Just as I felt his cum tube expand with the first blast of his flood of semen there was a loud explosion on the other side of the room. A champagne cork.
 

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As I saw Erica holding the bottle of vintage champagne, unable to prevent the nectar overflowing down the neck of the bottle before Jasmine reached her with the tray of glasses, I felt a similar overflow beginning inside me, though more powerfully and on a much larger scale. Wonderful! I felt fantastic, even though pressure waves were still radiating through the whole of my body—I had done it! Taken the whole of Mark's truly magnificent cock. From the furthest tip of his colossal head to the last brutal fraction of his tree-trunk thick cunt splitting base: I had him all!

But as Jasmine approached with her tray Mark was at last beginning to take full charge. He had one more surprise in store for me before he was done. Whispered instructions to Jason and the other boys. My feet gently removed from the stirrups, and Tim telling me to bend my legs and let Junior begin to take some of my weight. Jason beginning to reverse the movement of the recliner. Mark's head and shoulders at last coming up, his hips going down, but this time me going down with him, still impaled full length. Junior still finishing his cum. And then: the surprise. As he was lifted in the chair, and I fell, skewered on his mighty rod, Mark threw his arms round me, planted his feet on the floor, and with just a guiding and supporting hand on each side from Joe and Tim, he stood up. All I could do—all I needed to do—was to fling my arms round his strong neck. This amazing man, this handsome geeky bespectacled mathematician, this quiet, nervous, gentle, modest academic, was now parading me round the open area in the centre of the room supported by nothing but his incredible penis. The crowd were cheering him on. Though perhaps they weren't as shocked at this display as they might have been. He must have done it before. With Chloe, or Tiffany. Or both. Perhaps it was his new party piece.

Oh shit. He knew what he was doing. As the onlookers continued to cheer him on, Mark was still moving around the space, walking, stopping, turning. I felt my weight begin to tell, and as he moved I felt myself settle in little juddering movements just a little more firmly on Junior's great root. Now at last he stopped, moved his hands to my shoulders, and sighed. And then this kind, gentle guy was kind no longer. He pressed down hard to make sure that every fraction of his monstrous pillar was buried in me, and as he pressed I felt Junior jump up in response; he was undergoing his final triumphant expansion. That's how he probed me deeper yet.

And that is the moment when Mark finally consented to take notice of Jasmine and her tray of brimming glasses. He took one glass for me, and one for himself. Holding on to each other with just one arm free, we stood there, toasted each other, and began to drink. Since that moment, every time I drink sparkling wine of any sort, but especially when it is good champagne, I remember that moment and my pussy trembles and begins to run with moisture as she remembers what she felt that night. We drank the wine, and Erica came up with the bottle to recharge our glasses. With my first sip of the second glass I felt the tension and stretching build up to crisis point; Junior was pulsing up and swelling towards his come, but the extra pressure was bringing on mine.

Mark put his finger to his lips as he sipped. Yes, let's keep the fact that we are about to cum private, and just enjoy it to the full between ourselves, even in this crowd. As we sip our Moët Chandon. So I didn't cry and I suppressed my moans, he didn't grunt or groan. But of course he couldn't stop Junior breaking the silence eventually: and as he began to splurge out his load the bubbling, hissing, squelching, and burping gave the game away.

We had brought Junior's day to a triumphant conclusion; it had been the most amazing session yet in the short but eventful history of the academy. Time for the party to begin.

* * * * * * *

Although the main cast of the show had already enjoyed a glass or two, it was a while before the party could begin in earnest. It wasn't just the messy and difficult business of extricating a now tired but very heavy and swollen Junior from Alysen, or the need to take a shower, not even the need to clean up the copious traces of Junior's activities in this room. Five very highly sexed men had been watching a brother stud engage in serial heavy duty fucking. His enormous cock had scarely gone properly limp for a second in the two or three hours they had been watching him, and he must have enjoyed ten or twelve lavish orgasms. To their none. If a very well-endowed guy happens to see another guy like himself enjoying a fuck, deploying his size, exploiting it to the full—it has one simple effect: he wants, he needs, to do the same.

So five guys looked in the crowd of students for willing victims, each man seeking out one or more members of his current 'class', and the next half hour or so was filled with the sounds of urgent heavy-duty sex. There were going to be some very sore and stretched out pussies in this house come tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile Alysen was soaking gently in a scented bath, wondering how far her abused pussy could recover. And then how soon she could get hold of Junior again. At the same time, by special dispensation Karen had accompanied Mark down to the den, and was sitting next to him in the hot tub.

He was trying to let the foaming water soothe and caress his tired aching dong. And his bloated overworked gonads. Had they ever felt quite this heavy? He didn't think so. He thought back over the day. Hell: he must have had twelve, thirteen, fourteen separate fucks. The whole day had been full of it. Even when he wasn't fucking something else had been going on. Jelqing for instance. And mostly each fuck had meant two three even four cums. Shit: he was just a cum factory, he was churning out gallons of the stuff. No wonder Junior felt like one giant ache. No wonder he seemed to be even bigger and heavier than ever. Fuck: where would this end?

They got out of the tub, and as Mark pulled a towel round him and sat in one if the chairs, letting his massive genitals spill over the edge, he was glad of the warm breeze soothing him. Karen came and knelt in front of him holding tubs of cream and ointment, and began to apply them to her fiancé's exhausted hosepipe, working her way slowly and carefully up from the furthest tip of his cumbersome foreskin.

But she was working slowly and thoroughly and hadn't got more than a few inches when Jared called from the open door. 'Time to come guys! They want to start the party. But they can't start without the King!'

Mark groaned, heaved himself up, and went back inside, wincing as his overtaxed groin muscles took the strain. His genitals felt as if they weighed a ton, and he walked they began to swing. It was too much. Mark found his jockstrap and began to pull it on, heaving a sigh of relief. But Karen had other ideas.

'Oh no honey. This party is in Junior's honour. He needs to be on display. Don't hide him away! Be proud of him: they want to admire and adore him. I know he belongs to me, but there's far too much of him to be kept for just one person, and he needs his devoted harem. Come on Junior! Your devoted subjects are waiting for you.'
 

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Karen was just on the point of grabbing her exhausted fiancé by the hand and leading him upstairs when her feminine intuition intervened, and she told him she needed to take five or ten minutes out 'to change into something a bit smarter'. Mark sank gratefully and carefully into a chair. Boy he was tired: he'd as soon go straight to bed after a day like that, but this party was in his honour, or rather it was in Junior's. He looked down at him: there he was, looking every bit as exhausted as his owner felt, looped over the outsize mound of his ballsack, flopped down, way down, below the seat, further than he could see. Aching, sore, heavy. So heavy. He'd had no rest. But what a day! He looked back over it; it had been incredible. But even when he reminded himself of the best moment of all, even as he thought back to when Junior had gone such a distance—at least a foot deep!—into his darling Karen; there was no reaction. Normally Junior would have been tingling and twitching at just the thought of that; now for a while at least he was too drained, too heavy, too damn tired, to make even the slightest move.

He closed his eyes. Almost immediately, there she was. She hadn't brought many clothes over here when they moved in; you didn't really need them; but she had brought that shimmering dark green dress that she so rarely wore, the one that Mark liked so much, the one that echoed the colour of her eyes. She'd been quick; but there she was, transformed, made up, perfumed, beautiful. Enough to make him catch his breath. 'You look amazing, love.'

'And so do you', was her response as Mark heaved himself out of the chair; 'and when we walk in the eyes won't be on me, I can tell you.' It seemed a little unfair and very odd indeed to be accompanying his beautifully dressed future wife to a party when his only preparation was a couple of squirts from the cologne that Karen had brought down for him.

Still, let's go through with it. Back up the stairs, Mark trying to suppress his groans as Junior began to swing awkwardly and heavily about. He felt that he looked a complete idiot, a freak. Never mind; they all knew him by now, and although he wasn't a natural party animal, he resolved to do his best to enjoy this one. After a whole evening doing what just weeks ago he could never have imagined himself doing—fucking three girls one after another, with a crowd if people watching and a spotlight shining on his dick!—his natural reticence was reasserting itself. Let's slip quietly in at the back.

Not a chance! As Karen opened the door to the big reception room, there was a sudden hush. Then: the popping of corks, loud cheering and he was back right where he didn't want to be, in the spotlight. A glass was thrust into his hand, an arm was thrown over his shoulder—Jason's, and his new best friend began to propose a toast. He was standing there buck naked, as were all the other guys, Mark noticed. But Karen's instinct had been correct; all the girls were wearing their best. How weird: he suddenly felt very exposed. But there never had been anywhere in this house for a big dick to hide.

It was a mercifully short speech, simply extolling Junior's obvious virtues—his magisterial girth, his noble length, his inexhaustible stamina, his prolific output, his Herculean strength. He told them all to drink to Junior's health, to his continued growth, and to his long and extremely active life. Junior deserved nothing but pleasure; that's what he was made for, to give pleasure (as well maybe as a little pain) and to receive it, more and more and more of it, all he could handle. He brought his speech to an end: 'Junior: may you always stand proud and tall; may you grow stlll prouder and taller; may your mighty reservoirs never run dry. We wish you a LONG life. TO JUNIOR!!'

It was Mark who blushed at these embarrassing words; Junior himself was in a sort of penile coma. Jason raised his glass, and they all repeated the toast and drank 'To Junior!' Mark himself hadn't been named once, he thought with a rueful smile; weird or what? Was he expected to join in drinking to the health of his own penis? Very weird, but he did it. It was excellent champagne, after all. But now there were toasts he could join in: to Chloe, Tiffany and Alysen. And finally Jason, self-appointed master of ceremonies, added as an apparent afterthought: 'One final toast: to someone who, whatever else we could say about him, is simply a very nice guy. I give you: Mark!'

Suddenly Mark felt quite emotional. The adventure of the last few weeks was finally catching up with him. What a switchback journey it had been. Not many days ago he had been ready to tell Karen that she'd better look for a more adequate husband and to resign himself to a life of celibacy—all because of the insane dimensions of his ever-growing penis. Whereas now ... he felt tears beginning to well up, and grabbed hold of the man who'd helped him achieve all this and as much of the rest of the room watched, gave Jason the tightest bearhug he could manage. Never mind that as their arms were squeezing them tight to each other two mighty elephants' trunks slapped against each other to the delight of the girls. Mark was whispering his thanks into Jason's ears; Jason was whispering back that it had been a pleasure to witness his initiation at such close quarters 'every inch of the way.' Whatever happened in the future, these guys pledged themsves to be a part of each other's lives. They would always need to go on regular safaris together, into the jungle of womanhood, stirring up animal instincts as they went, and leaving newly stretched out pussies and new size addicts behind them. They sealed the deal, slapped each other on the back, and the party carried on.

Eventually, of course, alcohol began to have its effect. Mark no longer felt so self-conscious about mingling in a crowd of well dressed women with all those inches of hosepipe hanging down below his knee. When some of the junior students clearly wanted to get better acquainted with him, he didn't mind. Let them pick Junior up and play with him, stroke his foreskin, feel his weight, put their arms alongside him to compare. No matter: so long as they kept his glass charged, and so long as they didn't drop him, but lowered him gently back down.

Eventually, if you drink enough, you somehow manage to comply with even the strangest requests. One of the girls demanded to see the boys play volleyball. On the grass at the back. Floodlight. Fuck. A net was found and rigged up; before he knew it, there he was. Running about the 'court'. Or trying to. Jared, Joe and Brendon against Tim, Jason and Mark. The result was a foregone conclusion. To start with they tried to run, but after a while all the 'smaller' guys needed to do was to aim the ball into a gap. If a well-endowed guy can't easily walk when unsupported, running is an agony. Mark went for the ball, but his balls obstructed his run, Junior slapped heavily against his legs—and on occasion his team-mates. But if course it was precisely the flopping swinging and slapping that the girls wanted to see. The game came to a sudden end when Mark made an awkward turn, made more awkward by his bow-legged stance, and came crashing to the ground. Seeing his discomfort might have been amusing to the girls; but witnessing a possible injury alarmed them. Two or three of them rushed onto the pitch and helped him up; Mark noticing that it was Junior they were anxious about, not him.

The party continued. All the while different girls are coming up to him for their chance to get better acquainted; they were mostly girls in the very early stages, who wouldn't normally be allowed near the big guys, as they were nowhere near ready. But he let them stroke him and play with him; this was after all the best way of winning new possible conquests for him. Let them see him so that they would think of him, long for him later. Damn. He was beginning to think like Jason. Cbloe, Tiffany and Alysen came up as a group, bearing bands woven round with flowers. Three wreaths of victory which were to celebrate Junior's triumph; one by one they were tied round Junior's neck. They posed next to him for photos. He was feeling wearier; he had to sit down. He found an armchair in a corner of the room, and sank carefully into it

Fuck he was tired. They continued to fill his glass, boy, he must slow down. But now they were bringing round little bites to eat; caviar (which he'd never much liked) and salmon. He needed a bit more than that; and he asked for it. Eventually it came; a couple of hot dogs. He was the king of this feast after all; if he wanted hot dogs with his Moët et Chandon so be it.

Now it was Sophia, the supplier of all this good wine, who was kneeling between his legs, delicately running her fingers up and down his sleeping penis. He began to thank her for her generosity. She replied that she'd made a bet; and she wasn't the woman to walk away from that. As she lazy batted his heavy foreskin and it began to swing, the food Mark had eaten began to connect with Junior, and she didn't fail to spot his blush, and the first tremblings and stirrings that were infallible signs of a coming erection. Sophia straightened up. She wanted to block everyone else's view of this miracle of nature and keep it all to herself as long as she could.

So far so good. She watched entranced as the miracle unfolded. Junior was massive even when fast asleep, totally soft. But when he began to stir, to quiver, to pulse and throb: nothing could prepare you for that. He grew and grew and kept on growing. The bands of flowers snapped one by one. And that was only the start. Now his head was bursting out into the open; but he was still hanging straight down towards the floor. Perhaps he was trying to touch it. He was almost there. No: now at last he was trying to stand up. How could he? Far too heavy. He had another go. Failed again. And another. This time he raised himself up a decent way, but he was too heavy. So very heavy: he flopped back down again. This time he did hit the floor and Mark let out a cry of pain.

Ok: she'd better help him; as best she could she held him up and cosseted him as at last he began to stiffen and stand up in his own strength: still lengthening, still fattening. Oh fuck. Just look at him. She had to ask:

'Were those two cases enough to discharge my debt? Because from where I'm looking it seems as though I have short-changed you? Do you know how long he is?'

Mark swallowed hard. 'A few weeks ago I would have said that those two cases would have been ample: maybe even on the generous side. But I'm afraid to say that I think you are right. You may owe me another two bottles.'

'I'll bring three extra just to make sure. I don't want to sell your wonderful Junior short. But on one condition: that you let me bring him off to the biggest explosion I can conjure out of him in front of all these people.'

Sophia cleared her throat. 'Ladies and gentlemen: just in case you feared the wine was running out: there are three more bottles in the fridge. I was hoping to keep them for myself, but no way. Make it four more. Recharge everyone's glasses. Now pray silence for Junior: time for his own speech.'

She proceeded to assist him in his 'speech': her hands flew up and down his immensity as he acknowledged all the pairs of eyes focused on him by swelling bigger and bigger. Mercifully it came quickly: Junior's cavernous mouth opened as if to speak and a few seconds later first a great splat of cum cans flying out, then another; then he hosed forth a half-inch thick stream, which Sophia directed into the crowd without regard for dry cleaning bills, much in the manner of a Formula One champion on the podium with his champagne.

A final cheer. A final round of congratulations from the guys. The champagne was all drunk. Karen pulled Mark up from his chair. 'Time for bed Junior, no more work for you today.' As they walked upstairs she took Junior in her hands to give Mark's groin a little relief.

What a night! What a day!

* * * * * * *

Two hours later, Mark still couldn't get to sleep. So much was going round in his head. How was he going to be as to get his life back on track? How could he be a devoted husband and potentially a good father, and how could he pursue his academic career, with this gargantuan monstrosity demanding satisfaction several times a day? If he ever consented to have any down time at all! Fuck: he had allowed them to create a monster. Look at him: he was still throbbing, still stiff. After all that! Karen was lying next to him asleep; if he was going to have any chance of getting any sleep himself he was going to have to go into the bathroom and take care of Junior in there.

He began to move. A voice came from the other side of the bed. 'Don't move an inch! I've been lying here pretending to be asleep all this time. My pussy is hurting; she's on fire.'

Mark began to apologise for hurting her; she must know how he hated the thought of causing her pain.

'Her Mister! Get this into your thick head once and for all. She aches because she wants you; you've stretched her out so much that she has been longing for you ever since this afternoon. That is what you have to get into your great thick fat enormous wonderful head,'. Saying that she leant over to Mark's chest, where she knew the said head would be lurking, and began to kiss it.

'Time to drill that ache right out of me. Or even to drill it a little deeper into me.'

* * * * * * * THE END * * * * * * *
 
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GTOK

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Very, very, very nice conclusion. That was an absolute GREAT story!!!