Spurting (Commission for Luther-Bat)

Reality was officially out to lunch, and he was the main course.

The first load hit him about as hard as it hit the ceiling, ripping through his clothes about as easily as it did the plaster. In the second or so before the second wave came, Luther got to see the side-effects of the sudden climax: several inches added to his body, several more to his shaft and balls, growing incomprehensibly fuller despite having just gone through the most productive and full orgasm of his life. But those were just his passing thoughts, for his body refused to give him a moment’s rest; two seconds were up and the next one came knocking, drawing a long, loud moan from the bat’s throat and backblasting from the ceiling onto his face.

“G-good Lord,” he sputtered after cleaning himself off, “what are y-hnng!”

Luther couldn’t even finish his sentence before the third climax slammed into him from within, forcing yet more mass to pack onto his frame from seemingly nowhere. Despite all reason telling him he should be getting smaller, he saw himself growing ever larger, with his package in particular throwing any semblance of proportionality out the window and bulging out to scales he had only ever seen in lewd art before. If he had the time to analyze it, he would describe each orb as being the size of a couch, his cock alone large enough to hit the ceiling… but there was another spurt, another surge, and Luther was growing again, his body becoming large enough to smash the top of his head through to the floor above, his package triple that and already plowing through the rest of the building.

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, g-god, why now?!” he screamed to the heavens, perhaps hoping for a response, “Fuck me it’s so tight why is it so tight, why’s it so fucking goooooFUCK!”

Once more his words were cut through by his own body refusing to give him back control over it, the immense pressure built up inside of him spiking to absurd heights and leaving Luther without even the faintest semblance of a rational mind to think. All he managed to “say” were incomprehensible mutterings, non-words that would be more fit for a passionate night of lovemaking than whatever was happening there. Screams were heard around him, but he didn’t quite care; he couldn’t quite care, because his body wouldn’t let him.

Gasping for breath, the bat was wracked by another assault from within, his body utterly demolishing the apartment block he resided in, giving him plenty of space to watch as each of his nuts flattened a city block each, and his colossal pillar of a cock blocked the sun in front of him. It throbbed needily, hungry for his hands to touch and knead it, desperate for someone to handle it with the level of expert care only the bat could provide. Luther, of course, was happy to do so; how could he not, when he couldn’t see anything but his own shaft in front of him, haloed by two stretches of blue sky on either side? The poor thing even got a couple more seconds than usual before the next surge struck him from every direction, stretching his body out from within until the sounds of gurgling and sloshing emanating from his cum factories were drowned out by concrete being smashed into dust, quickly to fade away and be replaced once again by the unmistakable noise of cum splattering all over everything.

Even outside of his spurts he was still in constant release, load after load of his thick seed pumped out of his body-dwarfing cock at speeds so great that they drew arches in the air, ending up far away from him, too far for him to savour any of it. For the bat, there was no way forward but to succumb; whatever was happening to him clearly could not be stopped, so the best thing to do was to give up trying altogether.

That still didn’t mean he would just take it in stride; this was something to be appreciated to its fullest, lived like the unique event that it was. It wasn’t just that it felt good or that it was more divine than anything he had ever experienced before in his life. No, this transcended such petty notions, it was something far greater than just “good” or “pleasurable”. It was meant to happen, to him and no one else. It was his fate, his destiny. It was right.

“Ok… Ok, I’m fine… I’m ok…” he mumbled to himself, right before gritting his teeth at a sudden pressure rise, “I’m ok… I’m… Ok… Not ok, I am not ok, I am not ok, fuck!”

A quick descent into madness and his eyes were rolling into his skull already, fingers digging into cockflesh that refused to yield as a rather large spurt coursed through his body, leaving him so massive that the city was starting to look more like a playground than anything else. His torso alone covered most of it, and it itself was positively tiny compared to any part of what he carried between his legs, to the point where Luther was honestly concerned about what he was supposed to do with his new endowments… or would be, if his mind hadn’t immediately keyed in to the fact that all he could do was rub them as hard as he could and hope for the best. It didn’t do much; his hands were pitifully insufficient to handle even a fraction of his full size, but he still felt his fingers… all ten of them, attempting to please him, failing to do much beyond recognizing they were there.

He loved it. And he loved that he loved it. To have this transformation foisted upon him should be an indignity, and yet his lizard brain was screaming for more, begging for it, despite his best efforts to stamp it down.

One more spurt and already sense began to break down. Without things to compare himself to, it was getting hard to really think about anything in terms of scale. The city no longer mattered, the latest burst having made sure that Luther’s body alone was capable of outsizing it, while his package continued to push the boundaries of what was reasonable. He couldn’t even see the sky anymore unless he turned his head all the way to either side of him; the sun was blocked by his colossal cum factories, while his shaft alone was enough to dwarf the rest of his body… though it did give him something long, hard and leathery to hold onto and rub until the next wave of pressure crashed into him. Which of course took place a few seconds later.

The air around him was practically ablaze, his body heat enough to have it distort like a mirage. Each gasp, each panting for breath created a gust of wind powerful enough to knock down buildings, his rumbling moans causing the ground itself to shake, what remained of the city to be pulverised from the shockwave. He couldn’t spare a thought for whoever was down there, wouldn’t do so; he was so far above the lowly affairs of mortals that something as petty and insignificant as property damage no longer applied to him. He was as close to a god as they came, locked forever in an endless cycle of growth and rapturous climax, each feeding into one another for eternity. He didn’t know why, but he knew it was real, and that was all that mattered.

He felt it again, welling up inside of his chest. Soon it would spread all over him, stretching his skin, muscles, sinew, tendons, adding mass onto his frame, pushing him further towards divinity. It would happen… but it didn’t. Panicking, Luther opened his eyes for the first time, wondering to himself where the next stage in his ascension was, only to have it answered a full minute later; perhaps his body had figured that it was time to step things up, or maybe the process of becoming a god meant he would have access to increasingly greater pleasures by default, but he was no longer “suffering” from the small, quick-succession growth spurts that brought him there in the first place. Rather, it seemed like all those moments were being collected, coalesced into a larger burst, one that hit him so hard that Luther failed to keep himself awake for it.

The momentary blank couldn’t have lasted more than just a couple of seconds, and yet after he awoke from it he could no longer recognize anything around him. A quick survey revealed… geography. No cities, no towns, no landmarks, just land, as far as he could see, obscured by some wispy white things that he immediately realized were clouds. Layers upon layers of them, arranged neatly beneath him, the coldness of space lapping at the top of his head. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening to him, and yet there it was; looking up revealed nothing if not the darkness of the wider cosmos… or would, if not for his balls getting in the way. That and his cock, which had now angled itself to a point where he was more or less completely buried by it. A few more moments and he got to witness as his own cum circled back ‘round the planet, apparently the result of his last, colossal growth burst, his seed arranging itself on a ring in lower orbit.

He was titanic, enough that Earth itself seemed pathetically tiny compared to him. In fact, all he had to do was push himself off gently and he was handily enough floating next to it, ready to smash everything apart the moment his body decided to grow again. At least it gave him enough room to push his shaft down so it was horizontal compared to him, giving the bat enough room to massage it, or at least the minute fraction that he could reach. Though mercifully silent from the lack of air, Luther still felt his nuts churning beneath him, his body already used to the pressure and only feeding him what he had to know: that he was but seconds away from another surge.

His suspicions were true: his spurts were coming in wider and wider intervals, but rather than slowing down, they seemed to be getting increasingly stronger, his body tapping into some kind of growth “bank” and withdrawing from investments he didn’t even remember making. The Earth was conquered and its orbit occupied, but the moment he took the next step in his road to ascension, it too ceased to be relevant. Quite literally so, as it smashed itself apart against the side of one of his nuts, Luther himself having become large enough that he could see the entire Solar System and, perhaps most importantly, reach it.

All above him, he saw the results of his maddened sprint to vastness. It wasn’t even right to call that cosmically-sized stream of cum as being made up of gallons; such a measurement left so much to be desired that it was practically insulting. No, what he had there was the beginning of a nebulae, perhaps several, ready to be made even bigger the next time he let loose another climax. Of course, that much was a complete lie; the next spurt would put even that colossal release to shame, probably being enough to obfuscate a large part of the galaxy.

But it didn’t come. He rumbled, he quaked, he vibrated from head to toe, but it didn’t hit him. Five minutes, ten, and he remained at the same size. Half an hour and he was still the same, though the build-up in power was clearly there. All of his focus went towards keeping himself awake for when the floodgates open, so he could appreciate what it was like to really feel pleasure.

An hour passed and finally he felt it, the wave crashing into him from the inside. In that moment, he knew bliss. In that moment, the galaxy lost a good chunk of a galactic arm as his cum displaced it.

And in the moment after, there was no more galaxy.