Queen of Cock: Y'shtola vs Rosalina (Match 17) (Patreon)

Y’shtola stumbled through a portal, emerging into a dimension not yet wrecked by girlcock. She was disheveled and half-dressed, her normally stoic disposition cracked by the last session of reality warping growth and orgasms that she had been subjected to. As it was, she was most of the way back to her normal self—save the elephantine penis between her legs that all the skirts in the world could not hope to hide.

“Where did that damnable fairy go off to?” she wondered, looking around. But her new surroundings were peaceful. A green valley, kissed by the sun and filled with birdsong. No sign of Mara and her ever-multiplying army of phalluses. Y’shtola breathed a sigh of relief.

But rest was not the order of the day. A new portal opened just a few paces away, its eldritch energies crackling through the idyllic scenery, and as Y’shtola readied herself for whatever might come, a nude woman materialized—and promptly collapsed into the grass with a loud squelch of the copious shower of cum that had accompanied her through the portal.

Y’shtola rushed to her side, calling out, “are you okay?” As she bent over the barely conscious woman, recognition dawned: Princess Rosalina! But far taller and bodacious than Y’shtola had ever imagined, her cum-slick curves glistening in the sunlight.

Rosalina groaned. “Where’s the cock? I need more…” she mumbled and screwed up her face, turning away from the sun. “Too bright… Mistress, where did you go? I need more cooock…”

Y’shtola frowned at her. “You must have had a rough match, my friend. Overloaded on lust. You need rest.”

“Don’t need anything… anything but cock,” Rosalina mumbled, her voice fading away—until, in her fumbling, she came upon Y’shtola’s flaccid phallus, at which point she came alive, throwing her arms around it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“Unhand me!” Y’shtola insisted, springing to her feet. But it was no use; Rosalina clung to her mammoth penis, getting up on her knees as she peppered its veiny skin with kisses.

“Cock, cock, cooock!” she wailed, punctuating each cry with a smooch. “Please, mistress, use me! Let me worship your cock!”

“I’m not your mistress and I’m quite happy to take my first five minutes in I don’t even remember how long to relax instead of constantly growing and cumming!”

But Rosalina was not to be deterred. “You need more cock, mistress. Don’t worry, I’ll help!” Her eyes glowed a faint blue in the warm light, magical energies gathering in her grasp. Rosalina hefted her ‘mistress’ fat, hardening cock and, akin to a circus artist swallowing a sword, worked the whole two and a half feet of cockflesh down her throat.

“Oh, for heaven's sake…” Y’shtola snapped. She did not find it in her to shove Rosalina off, however, and tensed up as the familiar tingle of her extraordinary erection flooded her brain with temptations. Below, her head-dwarfing balls gurgled, promising what was to come.

The sound only made Rosalina squirm harder, her cunt leaking down her legs like a running faucet. “Mmph!” she gargled, trying to speak through the absurd volume of penis filling her mouth. She worked Y’shtola’s shaft down to the hilt, planting a wet kiss on the smooth base of her cock, glanced up at her with blind adoration in her eyes, and hugged her fat, bloating balls.

“You’re quite… talented, aren’t you?” Y’shtola said, balling up her fists with the effort of staving off the urge to slamfuck the mindbroken slut kneeling before her. “But we don’t have to play their game. The fairy never showed up. Go on, shoo!” She nudged Rosalina’s face away, squirming with every squeeze and throb of her insatiable cock.

To her surprise, Rosalina withdrew. But every inch of saliva-slickened penis that the Princess gave back made Y’shtola gasp, feeling as if the already sensitive skin between her legs had been dunked in tiger balm—only, a brand that made her want to cum even worse than anything else. Now, the mere gush of wind seemed enough to send her over the edge… and that was not even the worst of it.

Y’shtola endured the exit of all 30 inches of her cock from Rosalina’s lips—but, somehow, she kept on going, or more accurately: Y’shtola’s shaft kept on going, as if it had always been far bigger than the initial two and a half foot that, just seconds ago, had disappeared down her throat.

“What in the world…?” she murmured, staring in fascination.

Rosalina’s circus trick had morphed from a sword swallowing stunt to that of a clown pulling out an impossibly long string of handkerchiefs: She kept moving back; and as she did so, revealed more inches of Y’shtola’s increasingly gigantic girlcock, which fattened appropriately as, out of thin air, it retroactively became bigger. Her cumtanks grew, too, sloshing with delight as they bloated with ever more drastic loads.

As Rosalina continued moving backwards, Y’shtola realized with dawning horror that she could still feel the tip of her cock wedged deep inside the single-minded cockslut, bulging larger in the increasing lake of precum that existed somewhere within Rosalina’s dimension-defying belly.

“Get off,” she begged, flailing at the curvy cocksucker. But having revealed more than four feet—going on five—of Y’shtola’s monstrous penis, Rosalina had backed out of arm’s reach. “If you don’t stop, I don’t know what I’ll do!”

Rosalina did not stop. Her eyes, in fact, gave a bright flash of blue light, the look in her face plunging beyond mere maniacal devotion as her arms worked the slick, throbbing shaft and her mouth produced ever more of it. Six feet. Seven feet. Instead of stretching her jaw apart, it simply expanded as it passed her lips in the reality-defying manner of a silly cartoon.

But there was nothing silly about the pleasure building in Y’shtola’s loins. “By the gods…” she whispered, shivering violently. What little sense she could make of the sensations from her cockhead spoke to her of unimaginable size, of cyclopean proportions that her balls eagerly raced to match; they descended past her knees, her shins, brimming with what felt like an ocean of steaming fucksludge, fit to drown Rosalina, herself, and the rest of the planet in her virility. Her willpower was the only thing standing between the world and sexual apocalypse.

“Give in,” Rosalina purred around her cock, her warm, wet tongue snaking around its bulging girth. “Cum for me, mistress. Bloat me, breed me, ruin me!”

Y’shtola grit her teeth. There was so much sensation, so much of herself. As Rosalina enlarged her cock, she found the rest of her body slowly yielding to the power that the cock-drunk princess offered. Her slender hips inched wider, her breasts swelled by fits and starts on her chest, and all along her half-naked body, her muscles grew toned and defined along her feminine form. It was an all-out assault on her senses, a torrent of lustful impressions designed to bring her to the brink of her sanity.

She tried once more to shake Rosalina off and, though it was a mistake, succeeded—though not as she had anticipated. As she thrust her giant cock into the air, and Rosalina with it, the sensations of that tight, inviting throat squeezing her shaft pushed her over the edge. Y’shtola shuddered and came hard—so hard, in fact, that the force of her wildly gushing cock pushed Rosalina back like a bottle rocket.

But that did not mean that her cockhead came out of the woman’s mouth.

“Oh fuck,” she said, realizing her error. Before her, Rosalina shot 10 feet back in a single gush of cum—which, despite the hyperdimensionality of her throat, did bloat her trim belly to the size of a sloshing cum-balloon—and added that same length to Y’shtola’s dick in an instant, which throbbed and thickened with the sudden doubling of its already outrageous size. And, seeing as that only made the catgirl feel even more turned on, she fired another burst of cum into Rosalina. And again, and again, making her penis expand by dozens of feet, her balls growing so big that they lifted her into the air.

“Yes, yes, yesss!” Rosalina hooted, turning into little more than a human condom for her rapidly growing megastud. Her belly stretched around the lake of cum, accepting every drop of seed that her mistress so graciously gifted to her. Her cunt squirted wildly with every gush, every throb, every delicious, deep-felt moan she coaxed out of Y’shtola, and her magical energies only grew from their coupling, fueling their depraved feedback loop.

“You can’t be serious!” Y’shtola groaned, gawking through a haze of lust as she rose into the sky, propelled by her inexorably growing girlcock. Dozens of feet became hundred, hundreds became thousands, her throbbing shaft and her fat, oppressively potent balls spreading out around her without any trace of the restraint that governed the rest of her.

Or, used to govern. Certainly, Y’shtola did not usually sport head-dwarfing tits—despite her magical prowess that would easily let her do so—or a booty so thick that it would command the attention of any room she stepped into. And even this was not enough; she continued to grow curvier, to grow stronger, as her appetites expanded, sheer, unstoppable power radiating off her naked skin. Her eyes lit up with an inner glow as magical sigils appeared across her body, snaking into view to form new pacts and symbols that drew in even more magical force from the world around all, all to hasten her inevitable ascension.

Y’shtola reeled, failing to keep up with her changes. The all-consuming orgasm that coursed through her made it impossible to form a thought for more than two seconds before the next throb and the subsequent bucking of her hips washed the slate clean in the ocean of cum steadily collecting inside her inflatable cockslut.

She really was like a condom for Y’shtola’s domineering dick, now; stretched across the tip, her belly bloated big enough to flatten a smaller country, her squirming body sitting high above the clouds.

That was what she wanted, to be nothing but a toy for Y’shtola’s use, a disposable cum-sock for her mistress’ divine penis. So why not give her what she wanted?

So Y’shtola reasoned as she reached down the length of her shaft to grasp Rosalina. The how did not even enter her mind; Y’shtola willed it and so it was, her arm—and her body, by extension—simply growing long enough to reach the end of her miles long cock. Rosalina could do nothing but squirm as the giantess seized her—and dragged her down the full length of her towering cunt-wrecker.

“There,” Y’shtola intoned, her voice booming across the unprepared planet. “You wanted to take it all. I’ll make you.” Her penis was still swelling, still growing by leaps and bounds with every throb and gush, no matter what Rosalina did or did not do; it was simply a natural law, an endless escalation between the mountainous goddess’ legs.

Rosalina, for her part, looked up at her mistress in utter adoration—though, with a trace of trepidation, now, for the power that she had awoken. But there was no longer any choice in the matter; the next fountain of cum bloated her belly past the size of the moon, leaving the Princess to squirm and squirt uncontrollably. She was Y’shtola’s, body and soul.

And Y’shtola’s lusts had only just awoken.

Start of Match:

Y’shtola

Score: 50.1

Rosalina

Score: 79.1

End of Match:

Y’shtola

Score: 102.1

Wildcard: Giantess, Goddess

Rosalina

Score: 98.7

Wildcard: Curves, Mindbreak