Queen of Cock: Toriel VS Celestia (Match 18) (Patreon)

She was magnificent. Princess Celestia, larger than life. Certainly larger than the room around her appeared to permit: the air shimmered around her bountiful form, the tell-tale trace of the reality warping necessary to contain her greatness inside the unassuming home—or indeed, inside any one given structure, country, or metaphorical space.

She was taller than tall, looking down at the world from a vantage point 20 feet above the ground. She was curvier than curvy, her statuesque tits and ass as shapely as they were overwhelming, looking fit for a mare five times her size. And most of all, she was hung: The sheath she carried between her legs dwarfed even the pony princess herself, a slab of omni-virile flesh thrust out impossibly as she walked with a sultry sway in her hips, her house-dwarfing balls dragging easily behind her, proclaiming her cutie-mark in the shape of the sun to all and sundry.

To look at Celestia was to face the very concept of bigness. And that was not even the end of it; this was Celestia bound, the smallest she could go. Staring for too long into the shimmering of her silhouette revealed flashes of true enormity; the monster between her legs the size of a landmass, its wrinkles deeper than the Grand Canyon; or more, fit to lose planets in its folds. In the depths of her eyes, thousands of stars glittered in darkness; mere baubles for the cosmic goddess.

A goddess who now found himself crammed inside a snug, homely living room. The contrast could not have been more profound: the room was small, what little free space there was filled with knick knacks and knitting. The chairs were comfy, the fireplace was warm, and a delicious smell of baking wafted out from the open door to the kitchen.

“Just a moment,” a warm, motherly voice rang out before Toriel stuck her head in to check on her guest. “Wouldn’t want these to burn!”

Celestia’s aura shimmered. She fit inside the room, but only just—compressed enough to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling, though being that small only urged her real size to bwoomph bigger in reality-ruining surges.

“Take your time,” Celestia said, smiling despite herself. “I’m not in a hurry.” She cast her gaze across the pictures on the wall, her unbelievably fat balls rolling behind her as she stepped around—somehow avoiding so much as even jostling the furniture despite taking up a full third of the floor space with their gurgling mass.

More noises from the kitchen. The oven door opened and shut, and now her host appeared, carrying a tray of cookies: Toriel, the good-natured goatmom, pleased as pie with her guest—the majesty of which appeared to go straight over her head.

And yet, perhaps for good reason. As Toriel appeared in full figure, dressed in her straining blue dress, it became obvious that she wasn’t so far removed from Celestia’s realm that her surroundings would imply. Toriel was big, growing, in fact, with every single step she took: her enormous breasts swayed and swung forwards, inching out past her hips, which swelled wider and more fertile as naturally as she drew breath. No less than four fat sheathes hung in front of her, utterly hiding her bottom half from the front, which explained the train of gigantic balls dragging behind her, four pairs in and still more coming from the kitchen.

“Here you go! Have one while they’re warm,” she said, proffering the tray.

Celestia accepted Toriel’s hospitality, looking over her opponent with a searching gaze.

“Thank you. Now then, to business. You’re sure you want to do it here? Underground?” Celestia pointed her cookie out the window, from which a view of the sprawling cave systems branched out for miles below.

Toriel helped herself to a cookie, adding a dozen inches to her heft of her ass within the first crunch.

“Why not?”

“We’ll run out of space immediately. There can be far less destruction if we move to the surface.”

“It’s more cramped down here, it’s true. But it’s cozy. And there’s ways, you know…” Toriel gave a little smile, turning to set down the tray. As she did, her skirt lifted, briefly allowing Celestia to glimpse her nethers—more specifically, Toriel’s gigantic pussy, so large that it by all rights should not have fit between her legs. Toriel looked back at the Princess, the sly smile still playing over her lips.

“Just depends where you stick it.”

***

Boom, boom, boom.

Celestia’s thrusts crashed through the Underground, the plap of her hips upon Toriel’s voluminous ass mixing with the combined slapping and sloshing of the two hyperherms’ impossibly productive balls sent tremors through the ground around them. Every living soul for miles around (and some dead) knew that they were fucking; the rest of the planet would soon join them.

“Oh yes! Gods, yes!” Toriel moaned. She was on all fours on her bed, moving back against Celestia’s meaty cock, her tits jiggling with every jolt and her own sheathes swelling with need. With every thrust, her ass grew fatter, rounder, better around Celestia; who, in turn, grew more hung, her 100-foot behemoth of an erection surging thicker and harder, gushing lakes worth of cum with every motion—far from her climax, of course; for grrls like these, cumming enough to submerge their surroundings was just an appetizer.

But here and now, Toriel’s bedroom remained intact. Despite the size of both titanic herms, no walls were poked through and no flood had yet come to wash the bed away: the consequences of their true sizes were simply ignored in stark defiance of the laws of physics. Most of it went inside Toriel, in any case, her belly bloating with the deluge of cum and cockflesh eagerly pouring from Celestia’s crotch. A hundred feet became two hundred, and lakes became seas.

“Cute,” Celestia purred, her face flushed with indulgent passion. “The trick and you. You should come visit me in Canterlot some time.” Her voice passed into a growling moan, her cock throbbing with enough force to shake the foundations of the earth as she pumped a torrent of molten, hyper-virile ball batter into Toriel’s womb.

“Happily,” Toriel replied, equally husky with lust. Her massive cunt quivered around Celestia’s towering spire, milking out a fresh ocean from the pony as it drenched her shaft in her juices. Her ass looked apt to swallow Celestia up whole, and her breasts spread out around her, far too large for her bed to ever support. The compression magic strained to keep both of them within the room, warping the space around them to such a degree that the door appeared miles away, hidden by the unstoppably growing curves and cocks that filled the formless void around them to the brim. Toriel moaned, squeezing her wildly lactating breasts.

“We can—oh, goodness!—compare notes. When the contest is all said and done.”

“It’ll be over before you know it.” Celestia grinned, slamming her hips to Toriel’s ass with the force of a falling star. Her orgasm had begun, the great seas of cum within her mountainous balls gushing at full force into Toriel, bloating her belly wider by the moment. Her cock measured in the miles, now, surging bigger with every powerful pulse.

Toriel closed her eyes, trembling as the pony stretched her massive cunt.

“No need to rush,” she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. Her hands roamed over her ballooning belly, sloshing with enough molten mareseed to engulf the planet. And indeed, no rush was had—not when the two hyperherms settled into the rhythm of their orgasms, riding out the hours of non-stop nutting that left Toriel’s own fleshy leviathans cumming just as hard as Celestia’s, joining in to drown the world in their combined cum. A world that they had left far behind, sprawled out among their continental curves and cocks.

There, finally, completely untethered from the impossibility of their bodies, Celestia, having drained her moon-dwarfing nuts, pulled free of Toriel’s cunt with a final gush of cum.

“Oh, that was good. We’re definitely doing this again soon.” Celestia grinned, still enjoying the buzz between her legs as she regarded the size of Toriel’s belly with a measure of pride.

“Leaving already?” Toriel craned her neck, looking back at the pony. Her orgasm had abated, but her tits were still growing, her fat, pink nipples erupting with milk into the atmosphere in the distance.

“The next contender awaits, I’m afraid. But have no fear, there'll be plenty of time to get to know each other better once I’m crowned Queen of Cock.”

“Ah, I see. But there is a tiny problem with that idea. Namely, that you’ve won our little match.” A little smile played across Toriel’s face. “We’re far from done, my dear.”

Toriel slid her hands across the curve of her gigantic belly, which had ceased to slosh—instead, it was taut and firm, no longer full of cum. And as Celestia watched with fascination and rising suspicion, the goatmom’s massive cunt gave a twitch and a spray of honey—and then she gave birth. To herself. A big, curvaceous Toriel, as identical as her own mirror image, slid out of her own plump pussy, smiling slyly at Celestia as she appeared. While not as huge as her progenitor, merely at the size that she had appeared before their hour-long fucksession, every part of her was already growing to catch up, and while her original sported four sheathes, this Toriel came out with eight.

“Ah. More tricks.”

“Is it really?” Toriel retorted, speaking with two voices. “After the load you put in me?” Two additional Toriels emerged at once, their loins even more crowded than before. “I’m no stranger to having a bun or two in the oven…”

“This is a cock-growth tournament!” Celestia protested, eyeing the rapidly multiplying goats. “Not to see who can get knocked up the most.”

Eight Toriels laughed. “Too bad, huh?” The new copies stroked their bellies, which began to swell, big and pregnant. “But if you want cock-growth,” she continued, presenting the dozens, soon hundreds of thick, swelling sheathes between her legs, “I’m sure I can provide a suitable demonstration…”

Celestia raised her hands, but it was already too late. Hundreds of fat, pink cocks emerged from all sides, doubling in size, number, and any other conceivable metrics every other moment. Toriel became more, birthing increasingly hung selves in an endless stream. An army of milfy hyperherms rubbed their gigantic shafts over Celestia, purring with anticipation.

Celestia knocked her up well and good. It was only fair that Toriel returned the favor.

###

Start of Match:

Toriel

Score: 127.4

Celestia

Score: 162.7

End of Match:

Toriel

Score: 222.1

Wildcard: Lactation, Clonebirth

Celestia

Score: 184.6

Wildcard: Macro