Queen of Cock: Y'shtola VS Felicia (Match 9) (Patreon)

“Welcome to the lower bracket, losers. It’s time to get freaky.”

Mara hovered over Y’shtola and Felicia, well above their heads to make space for the dozensof body-dwarfing cocks hanging unnaturally from the tiny fairy’s loins, a collection of flaccid fuckflesh heavy enough to crush a truck.

“That is why you’ve displaying this obscene wealth of manhoods, I take it,” Y’shtola said.

“Yeah!” Mara said, “We can finally go bananas and grow as many extra parts as we want!” She gave her prodigious hips a shake from side to side, the enormous pile of car-sized balls below her jolting into action as it split down the middle and split apart with a little pop that sent the duplicated sacs swinging left and right. Mara looked at her handiwork with a self-satisfied smirk; she liked it so much that she repeated the trick at once, growing two new scrotums that landed with a seismic shock behind her, each of which were heavier than her first sets combined. “See? It’s time to let loose!”

Felicia gave her an appraising look. “I didn’t know we were holding back, earlier.”

“Oh, sure. Rules and all. One thing at a time.” Mara waved her hand. “Load of rubbish if you ask me, of course. Who in their right mind would ever want to stop growing? Right?” She shook her head and ran a hand over the base of her many cocks. “I swear, even this feels restrained to me. But, it’s not my show…” She clapped her hands. “So come on, catgirls! I wanna see you drown the world in cocks.”

Y’shtola regarded the carnal display. She frowned. “I think I’m good.”

“Don’t be such a square just ‘cuz you lost one. Loosen up a little!”

Felicia dared a smile. “Yeah… It does sound kinda nice, doesn’t it?” The amazonian feline had little in terms of decency, her mane of blue hair and little scraps of white fur nowhere near enough to hide the monstrously fat third leg hanging between her thighs, and so her excitement was plain to see. “But it doesn’t have to be all dicks all the time. Plenty of other things to show off.” She thrust her chest forward, her proud, perky breasts eagerly swelling forth.

“It’s in the title of the tournament,” Y’shtola commented. “Queen of cock.”

“So? We’re all cats here. You’d really refuse a taste of cream?” Felicia all but grinned, hefting her basketball-sized tits (and counting) as they grew past the alphabet of cup sizes. Beads of milk glistened at the tip of her pink teats and Felicia was quick to indulge, steering one plump nipple towards her own mouth and suckled greedily.

Y’shtola’s face flushed red. “That’s hardly fair,” she said, squirming in place.

“What part of this whole endeavor made you think of fairness?” Mara laughed, flying up in the air to make room for more balls around her, a growing mountain that was soon matched by the army of fairy penises slithering out between her legs. “And here I thought you were smart.”

Felicia, meanwhile, suckled—and grew. With every gulp of milk, her tits grew larger; the bigger they got, the more milk she gave; and as streams of her heavy cream leaked down her front, its effect on her cock became evident, too. Inch by inch, foot by foot, it expanded in that intoxicating routine that had become familiar to both catgirls. “Come on,” Felicia said, “have a taste. Indulge. Or are you really going to let me—ah!— steal the show?” As she spoke, a moan interrupted her. Her breasts, already dominating her torso, had trembled, gushing streams of milk—and then duplicated, splitting off a second set below without either pair losing a shred of mass. “Oh, heavens…” Felicia moaned dreamily, leaning forward on the welcome support of her package as it settled on the ground in front of her, balls and shaft already bigger than their owner.

Y’shtola pounced at Felicia as if launched out of a rocket, agreeing in everything but words that she was indeed a fine catgirl, and only growing finer. Y’shtola latched on to one of the offered nipples and drank, milk spilling down her cheeks to soak her dress in messy splashes. But that was no problem at all, because her own breasts outgrew it imminently, tearing through the dark fabric as if it had been made of paper.

“Mh, there we go,” Felicia giggled, drunk with lust, as she patted the white-haired woman’s head and squirmed with the sensations of her suckling.

Y’shtola did little else. Her breasts swelled past the size of her own head and, much like Felicia, hastened through the library of bra sizes until they were like two perfect, teardrop-shaped boulders hanging off her chest, her own nipples obnoxiously thick and perfect. Then, four boulders. Six. Y’shtola sported three sets of tits by the time her undressing was complete, their size made even more monstrous by the slender look of her shoulders. Between her legs, a massive catgirl cock appeared, five feet if anything, and its substantial thudas it flopped free showed that she was far from hard, but growing fast.

“Ooh, look at you!” Felicia cooed. “Not so shy anymore, huh? Good for you!”

Y’shtola looked up at her, still blushing furiously. “More milk”, she said, freeing her lips from Felicia’s fat teat for only as long as absolutely possible. She took the opportunity to take another of Felicia’s nipples in her mouth at the same time, suckling from both.

“I can hardly resist that, can I?” Felicia purred, rubbing the back of Y’shtola’s head. She closed her eyes, thrusting her hips languidly as she stretched and made her breasts duplicate once, then twice more, four incredible pairs of tits stacked on her chest, far too big to even get her hands around. But she didn’t need to. Y’shtola was all over them, drinking, groping, grinding her own rapidly expanding rack and cock against it. The two catgirls were already out of this world, veterans at handling their impossible assets with feline grace; they hardly made notice of their cocks crossing into the triple digits, their balls becoming hills of rounded flesh, reservoirs filling with enough cum to impregnate the world a hundred times over.

And yet, Y’shtola went further. She drank from Felicia, made her twist and moan from her ministrations. It seemed to Felicia that the other catgirl were in too many places at once, touched every breast, every nipple—even stretching so far as to play with her ass!—with a sort of omnipresence that could only be supernatural.

“Some spell of yours…?” she ventured, adding a fifth set of tits to her majestic front; and gasped as she felt Y’shtola’s lips clamp down on both at the same time.

“... Not exactly,” Y’shtola admitted—as two of her heads became visible at once and the dizzying transformation of her body became visible. Four heads perched on her shoulders, four sets of arms by her shoulders, and no less than sixteen pairs of breasts on her chest. And she had duly mutated to fit them better, as the catgirl had transformed into a taur: from her backside sprouted a new back from her tailbone and a new set of legs, like a centaur, but all ‘human’; her incredible row of breasts continued down this new underside, interrupted only by the mass of the enormous cock between her legs; and, similarly the pair of even larger penises between her second set of legs!

“Oh, wow. That… That’s new.” Felicia said, still taken aback. “That’s wonderful.”

Y’shtola’s cheeks were still rosy (all four of them), but she managed a little smile or three. “I was told to go ‘crazy’, so…” She bit her lip, shaking with a sudden flash of pleasure that made her tail stiffen and her three 500+ foot cocks throb. Her hind-quarters squirmed on her mass of balls (she had long since abandoned the thought of touching the ground) and tensed, before shooting out once more to create a third set of legs on her increasingly longer body… with fourtitanic penises between them.

“By all that is holy…” Felicia muttered. She stared at Y’shtola’s impossible figure, her eyes eventually dropping to the nearest set of wildly lactating tits. “I want that!” she said, throwing herself at the catgirl-taur and drinking deep from her bottomless bounty of cream.

Y’shtola moaned sharply, her voices echoing one another, thrust her chest forward, all but drowning the other cat in titflesh. Being suckled made her breasts grow faster, grow more, dozens upon dozens of new sets blooming along her rapidly elongating body. With no lips to accept them, they sprayed their bounty along her own skin, accelerating the monstrous expansion of the multiplying monoliths between her legs, which continued to double with each successive set of legs on her body; eight, sixteen, thirty-two, a growing army of catgirl cocks large enough to pierce the very planet.

Felicia soon joined in; not tauring out, but simply letting the many dozens of planet-busters emerge between her single pair of legs. Physics had been fucked to death long ago, so there was no need for her hips to widen; but they did anyway, giving even more of a curve to her killer ass as the planet drowned in their combined cocks, milk, and cum.

“More,” Y’shtola moaned.

“More,” Felicia agreed.

And more they had, buried deep in each other’s breasts, feeding their boundless appetites like an eternal yin and yang to grow and cum and grow and cum and grow…

More.

###

Start of Match:

Y’shtola

6.1 E01 = 61 m

Score: 6.8

Felicia

6.2 E04 = 62,000 m

Score: 15.9

End of Match:

Y’shtola

9.5 E12 m  ≈ 88 Solar Systems

127 cocks

Score: 50.1

Wildcard: Breast Growth, Multi-breasts, Multi-Everything

Felicia

5.5 E12 m ≈ 51 Solar Systems

110 cocks

Score: 49.1

Wildcard: Breast Growth, Ass Growth, Multi-breasts