You dominate P.E class

It was Thursday and that meant you had P.E class at your high school today. When you arrived at class, wearing loose sports shorts to hide your package, the class was to be split up for basketball matches.

The teacher responsible for assigning the groups was a man, and before he assigned the teams for the matches, he stared at you for a minute, an expression of doubt on his face. He knew deep down that your slender body was capable of feats that were far beyond what any man was capable of, so when he assigned your match. he made it a 9 vs 1 contest with the nine being the tallest and most athletic boys in the school and the one being you.

Before the matches started. The girlfriends of the nine basketball players giggled at the sheer absurdity of your match. Nine boys that were all between all one and two feet taller than you were going against a single opponent that didn't have a notable muscle on their feminine body. And the girls knew the nine were going to not only lose, but be humiliated. Because they wanted you to humiliate them, and you had never let them down because you were their god. In fact, your status as god meant you always exceeded their mortal expectations by a few orders of magnitude.

And today was no exception. Not only did you score a 3 point field goal every second for the entire 40 minute duration of the match for a final score of 7200 - 0, but you never let your opponents touch the ball outside of when you had to let them because of the rules.

As impressive as the raw statistics were the sheer variety of ridiculous plays you managed to work into your performance. Slam dunks from the halfway line. Supersonic throws from your own defense that always hit the target despite having your back turned towards goal. Zigzagging runs that made you look like a blur as you executed them in less than a second. You thought of 2,400 different ways to score 3 points on the fly and executed them all perfectly in under a second each.

The domination was so emphatic that the nine curvaceous girls watching their boyfriends starting publicly masturbating to your masterclass of basketball play, flashing their sizable breasts at you between points.

By the end of the match, you had an army of sexy high school girls (and teachers) surrounding you, cheering your crushing victory over the nine dejected loser boys who dared think they were top athletes just because that were a bit taller and had more muscles than you did.

As you left the basketball court, you didn't feel tired at all. In fact, you felt even more energetic than when you started and were looking for somewhere to release that energy, especially those stirring underneath your loose gym shorts...