Chapter 3

I stand here, with my lovers, surrounded by all of these worthless maggots, as the doors begin to open.

They row and row and row and row…

It takes a long time, but the sliding doors finally open in full, and we're assaulted by the strongest scent of semen we have ever smelled.

Our hairs go stiff. Our muscles, hard.

Boom... Booom…

The room vibrates with our power. Even the other girls, all worthless vermin, forget about us as the smell of his semen supersedes even out power. It takes over our presence, our aura, and out bodily heat.

"Jesus..." I whisper, and the hairs in my body shiver like the tips of the tails of rattle snakes. Still, I straighten my frame, raise my chin, and walk in.

There's another, smaller room separating us from the breeding dens. As usual, everything is shaking: Boom...!! Boom...!! Boom...!! Boom...!! Damn! Everything is shaking and quaking, and what kind of godly power could move this structure so much?? The walls, the ceiling... everything is woven together as tightly as atoms, every particle in these surfaces bound by nuclear ****. It is literally impossible to disturb this structure without something like a neutron star or a black hole to act as a catalyst, as fuel…

Booom...!! Boooom...!! Booom...!! Boooom...!!

Yet everything shakes. Everything trembles.

"Is that...?" One of my lieutenants notes. "Is than a bend on the door??"

She refers to the door in front of us, and yes, that IS a bend on its surface, one of many bends and curvatures that we can spot.

The room continues to shake, and it never stops shaking, as we walk in. The doors slide shut behind us and leave us alone. Mostly. Several cameras are around. Many drones fly near us.

"You watching us, luvs?" I tease my inferior friends, whom I know listen to us and watch us through these drones from their cushy, safe, and protected observation rooms.

"Hmm." They answer positively, and then say no more. This is our space and out haven. This... is as much as our breeding den as it is his—though, judging by the strength of these shakes, this might not actually be true.

Bang!! Bang!! Bang!! Boom...!!

Jesus Christ, he fucks so much! "Like the birth of a star, his thrusts are," I comment. My voice booms, godly and supreme. The breasts of my partners rise and grow even more monstrously large. Each breast the size of a calf, of a little cow.

"Hmm...!" They answer amid shivers, and they drip, oh, they drip! They are dripping so much already, and that's just by feeling his presence, the terror of his atomic thrusts! "How godly is he??"

The most perfect Alpha male ever bred. The endpoint of a 20,000-year lineage of careful breeding and eugenic mating. "We'll see." Thousands of generations of the most perfect humans of their time interbred to generate even bigger and stronger humans. Interbreeding after interbreeding creating true gods on Earth, then gods even more godly still with the human genes spread across the universe!

Twenty millennia of mating to create the ultimate stud. One hundred percent human. No genetic alterations of any kind. A pure, thoroughbred human stallion.

"He's been active for fourteen years, I was told," one of my girl comments. "And his offspring already number in the trillions."

"Tens of trillions. All bred directly by his dick." another corrects. "But yes. It's shocking that they kept this stud hidden from us for so long."

I smirk. In the end, it was smart for Jupiter and Galatea to keep their masterpiece secret. "If our lady knew about him, there's no way she would allow him to go unspoiled." My lips curl into an ever more pronounced, demonic smile. "Every fresh muscle in the universe belongs to her. Every hard male. Every virile cock. All the quality, prime semen in the cosmos belongs inside of her pussy. Not even Jupiter could escape this, and now... neither will his son!"

"Galatea... is... barren..." Some other girls mumbled to themselves in disbelief, struggling to come to terms with that surprising bit of new that was just told to us. "How is it possible?? Her flesh was nearly perfect!"

"Nearly," I utter, and the room booms with my voice. "It seems that their commitment to monogamy has bore a tremendous fruit. Their relentless mating has selected only the ultmost flawless genes from their bodies. Ah, Galatea and Jupiter..." I reminisce about these GODS, who are the only creatures in the universe able to rise CLOSE to our goddess's utter perfection. "Galatea's womb, it seems, has rejected all inferior semen."

"Inferior semen..." Some of the girls giggle after I say this, because, yes, it's kind of ridiculous to think of "inferior semen" when the subject being discussed is JUPITER!

"They have tried endless combinations, countless copulations until they got the absolute perfect set of genes. I mean it, girls: they set out for nothing less than perfection. If the sperm of Jupiter and the egg of Galatea, when combine in Galatea's holy womb, yielded an offspring with only 99.9999999999999999999% of ALL their best genes, this offspring was discarded. I mean, the zygote, the little embryo, it was rejected, squirted out of her womb." I stuck my tongue out and blew some air: Plrrrt! "Then, they tried it again. And again and again and again until 100% of their top genes was carried over to their son, who is now... a god." The room shook and shook and shook as if to prove my point. "A god who appears to be reshaping the gene pool of the fucking UNIVERSE with his breeding, I see."

"Did I read it right when they said that he... is kind of an idiot, though?" One of the girls, very naughtily, jumped over to my side to ask: "I thought I read the data wrong, but it stated that his IQ…"

"Yes," I assuage her doubts. "He is borderline beastly as far as intelligence is concerned. His IQ is 32."

"Holy... fuck…"

"It's literally the bare minimum for most physiological functions. Like, it takes an IQ of 70 for a person to be able to clean their own room, and an IQ under 60 is beyond retarded. It's more like... not even human anymore, but truly like a beast."

The girls looked at each other anxiously. Their hearts, each the size of a truck's engine, thundered under the colossal mass of their tits, which rumbled sexily as the room continue to shake and the beast continued to roar and cum... cum and cum and cum so much inside, and their faces were full of flee, and their wombs warmed up with excitement, not disappointment after I'd shared that information with them.

"We're all geniuses, aren't we?"

"Hmm. Our IQs are all over 600 points."

"God... this mean that we'll be fucking a monkey."

"Not a monkey," I corrected them, and even my pussy got noticeably wetter when I said this: "A bull."

The god beyond those door was literally a bull. Well, as close to a literal bull a human being could get. Jupiter and Galatea's breeding selected only the genes of a sex god: the biggest muscles, the densest muscle fibers, the fattest balls, the longest cock, the ability to produce loads and loads of cum tirelessly…

"The ability to maintain his cum production with as little nutrients and energy as possible," another girl, as if reading my mind, continued. "I heard he never really ate anything other than pussy cream, breast milk, and his own semen."

"Hmm," another nodded. "That's what it said in those documents. He is a self-sustaining breeding machine."

"His body fat is under 0.5%."

"Under 0.1%, actually," I corrected them, and one of the girls was smart enough to inquire:

"Hey, Alpha!"

"Tell me, love."

"Why did you bother asking those inferiors for his stats when we all knew those already?"

The air vibrated with my long and sexy purr. "I just wanted to tease them. Toy with them." I giggled. "Did you hear the gushing of their pussies when they were **** to mutter out loud those stats? It was too unbelievable even for them, who were task solely with safekeeping and guarding this stud." I laughed. "They're probably closer to him than his own mother, and even then, after all this time, they get wet when thinking about him."

"So do we." One of the girls struggled to pace her breath. "So do all women, apparently."

We stand by the door, and GOD, the heat...! The heat that comes from it! Shit! "This is what it feels like, I suppose, for a regular human to stand before a giant, open furnace, isn't it?"

"Hmm!" The other girls nod and shiver.

Twenty. There's twenty of us. Hmm. Must be enough for at least 72 hours of coitus. "If the beast is strong enough," I utter, and there's still a part of me, deep in my heart, who wants to doubt him! Who wants to believe he's not all that he's cracked up to be.

We stand supreme as the most perfect organisms ever produced by breeding. Artificial or not. No matter what sorts of genetic modifications or mechanical augmentations were made to countless other human beings; no matter how many alien races we met (and eventually annihilated); no matter how strong these alien lifeforms were, or even if many of them had been selected for millions of years for physical superiority, true hulking, muscled beasts with only enough intelligence to achieve sentience and spaceflight…

No matter any of this! No matter how much "cheating" one ever did to their bodies or how much power one particular species accumulated, we—my girls and I—triumphed over all of them.

No other organism in the Known Universe is, has ever been, or will ever be superior to us. No other organism, that is, but Jupiter, Galatea, and God. The God-Woman whom we all serve.

Our genomes are as tightly woven as the atoms in the core of neutron stars. Our genetics is more packed then the center of a black hole. "Genetic singularity", it's called. When the genes of a creature achieve perfection, and they cannot be improved in any way, we call it genetic singularity. The state of godhood made flesh. The apotheosis of life.

Our goddess has achieved genetic singularity, and she's the only being in the Universe to have done so. Galatea and Jupiter come close, but... tsk! Not all the way there. My girls and I also come close, though to even lesser degree than these two studs.

Put us in a room with Jupiter, and we would be exhausted in three days tops. Now, Jupiter and his wife, together? Pfff! We'd be lucky to last a day, but in all likelihood, we'd been exhausted in 12 hours.

"Should we open the door, goddesses?" The inferiors ask us through their drones, and I share a look with my partners.

"Just wait a little longer."

"Why? Are you scared?" They could have said. Could have, but didn't. Even they, strong as they are (the top 100 women in the cosmos), know how to keep quiet when addressing their natural superiors.

I look at my girls, and we all look at each other, preparing for what's to come. "He keeps..." One struggles to talk as her spit gets stuck all the time in her throat. "He keeps his body so low, I hear, because every ounce of energy in his body is redirected immediately to his balls."

"Hmm." Another nods. "She has selected him for this. Galatea." She shivers. "When selecting and manipulating her husband's seed in her womb, she threw out any strand of DNA that wasn't required for the growth of muscles or the production of jizz."

"Yesss..." I could hear them licking their lips so lavishly. "That's why he's dumb. His IQ is kept an animal level because... what else does an animal need to do but... fuck? To breed?"

"A true animal. A true breeding god! He doesn't even have a name, does he?"

"No." The space gets loud with our shivers. Our bodies vibrates like skyscraper-sized bells during an earthquake. "He doesn't need it. Just like he doesn't need intelligence or a brain."

"His skull is mostly solid bone. His brain is the size of pear—which, for his size, is like a normal human having a brain the size of a marble ball, the width of a fifty-cent coin."

"He is dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. Big, dumb, and hung!" One embraces her breasts, which threatens to burst through her uniform. "We are about to mate with an animal."

"An animal superior to any actual animal. A human being, but... made into a bull."

"The spirit of a bull in the body of a human."

"Not of a human, no, 'cause no human gets so big. Not even the titan-level ones like us."

"Sure. The spirit of a bull, then, in the shape of a human."

"Now, that's more like it."

"Can he give consent when, like, he's below the deepest levels of retardation possible?"

"Is this your concern, girl?"

"This story might actually never get published if that's the case. If he cannot give consent…"

"He is Consent incarnate," I utter, and the place booms, and they all quiet down. "In whatever little brain his mother gave him, every cell in it is programmed for one thing and one thing only: to breed." I look at them, and I lord over them with my twelve feet of height and my car-sized boobs. "Every nerve in his body sparks and light up with the command to breed. Every neuron in his brain shakes with the transmission of a single order: breed. Breed. Breed. Breed. He is consent personified because he is SEX incarnate. If anything, his tangerine-sized brain has more 'consent' than any other brain known to science, for whereas all these other brains are filled with futilities like working, playing, finding food, his brain is filled with nothing but... cum." The room shakes. "And sex. Sex, sex, sex, sex, day in, day out, sex, sex, sex, sex, and all the activities that are strictly necessary to perform it. No more, no less. He probably doesn't even know how to eat anything but breast milk, pussy cream, and his own bull semen, for this is time of sex-wired brain that his mother optimized him for. If anything, that's why he surpassed his parents: whereas Galatea and Jupiter are fairly smart and well-rounded human beings, their son is... just a beast. Just an animal."

Booom...!! Booom...!! Blaaaaam...!!

I point to the door, using the constant shaking to prove my point: "He is a masterpiece because he is pure. There is nothing in him but sex. Nothing else but the imperative to breed."

"But... our goddess…"

I click my tongue dismissively. Tsk! "Our goddess is a goddess, and she's on another league—even compared to him! The rules (wherever there are rules regarding super beings like us) don't apply to her. She is the one who sets the rules with her mere existence, after all." I wave their concerns away. "Below our goddess, this is how perfection must be: simple and single-minded. This beast, this animal beyond this door? He will breed us the moment he sets eyes on us. This is different than with a literal bull or a horse, who just doesn't go out of his way to hump human females."

"That's right."

"Horses and bulls can be abused, 'cause they never really think about sex with humans in the first place. Now, this?" The room shakes, Boom!, and shakes, Boom!!, and shakes and trembles and quakes again as the bull appears to be reacting to our words. "Beyond this door? He locks eyes on pussy and FUCKS IT. That's it. It's that simple. If anything, the only side here who must ever think about concern is us, who are not so absolutely wired for fucking."

"Though we are."

"We are not," I answer definitely, and the room seems to shake just a little with the strength of my tone—thought this is illusion, I know, and the only shaking that happens here comes from the pelvic thrusts of the bull and the strength, the volcanic power of his brutal ejaculations!

Bluuursh...!! Bluuursh...!! Bluuuursh....!!

A primordial **** is breeding on the other side of this room, and we're but pawns in his shadow, mere toys about to be fulfilled (and filled full) by his divine essence.

"We may think we're sex demons. Succubi." Boom...!! Booom...!! Booom...!! "We are not. He is." I point to the door again. "Only he is. No one else." The room shakes. Oh, it shakes! Dear god, how much it shakes...! "I wonder if Galatea regrets what she's done." I stare at the door like a faithful staring at the Gates of Heaven, ready to be judge. "She's created a monster, and now... the whole Universe is only changing by this monster's will."

"His semen..." One of them gulps. "It's already reshaping the genetic make-up of the Known Universe!" Her brain swirls around the number, which are all but unbelievable. "Almost ten trillion offspring already, and he will quickly double this every years once... if..." She gulps. "If he starts selling his semen or letting wombs be bred by it artificially."

Many of us, including me, cringe upon hearing this. To us, any form of procreation outside of raw sex is heresy. "Whatever," I shrug, and my shoulders rise like iron mountains shredding my tight-fitting suit. "I'm just glad we're here to add to this number." I give my girls one final look. "Promise you're still going to love your children once they're all outclassed by the offspring of this... this..." Boom-boom-boom-blaam...!! "This monster!"

They shiver. They squeal. They quiver. "Only if you promise it first, goddess."

Boom... Boom... Blaam... Blaaam....!!

"I promise." I touch my hot womb. "I promise I will still love every one of my 304 children after this god breeds me with his seed."

The others follow me: they all touch their wombs (or their flesh right over their wombs, that is) and swore fealty to their 200, 300, even 600 hundred children (for the oldest of us, true hags in their 50s, though still looking like 18-year-olds at worst!), who are all going to be replaced by newer, better models; upgraded human beings from the freshest seed of the universe's finest stud!

We are ready. We are eager! Our promises all ring a bit hollow as we, as women, can't really help ourselves but be super excited (and a little scared) to mate with the ultimate stud! The top Alpha male of the universe!

Oh, shit! No man would ever be better! No "catch" would ever surpass him!

"This... is it." I mutter.

And yes: this is it! This is it! This is the ONE MAN to actually make us fulfilled!

Of all the impossible things surrounding this male, this might actually be the most impossible of all: after 20,000 years of drama and tragedy, we might finally have stumbled upon the ONE MAN who will actually make us women happy!

The first and only man in history... to make women happy!

What do women want? This question rang across time and space, and finally, it has found its answer!

What do women want? Him!

We want him!

On the other side of this door!

In the heated cauldron of his breeding den!

We want him, him, him, and we're going to get him, fuck, whether our wombs survive him or not!

"Open the doors, worms," I command to the drones, and sure enough, the doors slide open.