We were twelve in our hunting party. As is our custom, we brought along twelve of our females to service us and to serve as additional bearers in case our hunt was especially fruitful. Our leader, Oldglans, kept us in the shadowy depths of the heavy woods at the edge of the savannah, downwind from the watering hole, awaiting the buffalope that would eventually come to drink, and whose flesh would fill the bellies of our people. Often we had to be patient, for the buffalope were sometimes slow to appear. We wore loinskins from waist to mid thigh. In the fashion of our tribe, our females' tits were bare. While we waited, we lay our spears, knives, axes, and bows and arrows on the needle covered, forest carpet. We had our females get on their hands and knees and we opened our loinskins and mounted them from behind. All the hunters had hard cocks. I had the smallest cock in the village, only nine inches long and seven inches around. Our males averaged ten inches long and eight inches in girth and many were twelve inches and even thicker. Oldglans had chosen one of the older females to service him on the hunt. His venerable cock was fourteen inches long and nine inches around and he needed an older, well stretched cunt to take his thickness. As we waited for our prey to appear, we fucked our females. My female was young, but well trained in the fucking arts. She had trim, muscular legs and medium tits riding high on her chest. Her long hair grazed the pine needles as she looked back between her legs at my hard cock and big balls. All our males had balls as big as peaches. The oral history passed down from our elders told that eons ago, as now, most of our females were barren. The minority who were fertile chose only to mate with the males with the biggest cocks and largest balls. Over many generations, natural selection had created our present tribe of well hung males. Our balls had become so fecund that we had to fuck six times per day and we always kept a female close by to service us. My female was ready for me. Her nipples were hard and her swollen pussy lips dripped juice into her hair as they spread to accept my manhood. Precum dripped from my cockhead and I pressed it into the mouth of her cunt. I felt her cunt muscles flex around my head, peeling back its protective skin as she milked it deeper into her cunt. Our males didn't have much staying power, but our big balls produced so much hormonal fuel that we could cum repeatedly. I reached under and found her clit. It felt big and hard and I gently massaged its shaft under her hood. She bucked back against me as she came. Her clit throbbed as her cunt squeezed my head and shaft, hungrily milking me for my seed. I buried my swollen cockhead in the end of her cunt and pumped at least a dozen times, quenching her thirst with a copious drink of my sperm milk.
The buffalope still had not shown. With our balls drained for now, we picked up our weapons and waited. Suddenly the air in the middle of the forest clearing began to ripple and bend, creating the blue, hazy fog of an opening space portal. We all watched to see who was visiting us. A hologram slowly formed in the portal. It took the form of a dark pink pussy, four feet high and about two feet wide. Its lips spread open revealing its piss hole and its much larger cunt hole. The large clitoris hung down at rest. We watched in awe as the pussy lips moved and the cunt mouth spoke to us.
"Hello, males of the world you call Phallos! I am Ambassador Fallopian from the planet Lezbos. I bring greetings from Queen Wilhymena, all powerful leader of the Bull Dykes. My message is simple. We invite one of you to visit our world on a good will mission. Before making my presence known to you, I have used my sensors to monitor your ejaculations, and specifically we would like the one you call Sperminator to be your representative." What the hell! Why me?
The giant pussy evaporated and the portal closed, returning the forest to its former bucolic state. We cancelled the hunt and returned to the village to hold a counsel with the elders.
After the elders had huddled for over an hour, Oldglans addressed us males, assembled to receive his advice. "Most of you are too young to know the history of the planet Lezbos, but legend has it that many eons ago their queen felt that the world then called Epididymos had snubbed her. Alas, that planet is now barren of male seed, long ago colonized by the Bull Dykes of Lezbos. We are a democratic people and will follow the will of the majority, but before you vote, let me warn you. We elders believe that if she feels we have snubbed her, Queen Wilhymena might send a flotilla of Ball Buster Droids to our peaceful planet." A murmuring arose among us. Curveddick asked, "Venerable one, tell us more of these droids. What is their mission?"
Oldglans frowned and shook his head sadly. "Legend says that their mission is to harvest. And if the old stories are true, the droids' task will be to cut off all your balls and return the sperm harvest to the seed banks on Lezbos. So, my advice is to send Sperminator as requested. Yes, we run the risk that they will never let him return to our beautiful, peaceful world, but is it worth risking all of your balls because of the threat of losing only one pair, even two as prolific as Sperminator's?" Murmuring arose again and many of my fellow cocksmen glanced at me furtively, knowing that soon their vote would seal my fate.
The vote wasn't even close. My people decided to accept Queen Wilhymena's invitation and send me to Lezbos as ambassador for Phallos. I would enter the space/time portal the next morning. I stayed up late into the night learning all Oldglans knew of the folklore and history of my destination. "Son, what I'm telling you may or may not be true, as I've never been to that world, nor have any of our people, but you should be prepared for a planet much different from your home. For example, the population may be all female by now, with maybe a few old eunuchs left, if they haven't all died off."
"How did this come to be, wise one?"
"Eons ago, a political movement arose. They called it Ova Liberation in its infancy. As it grew in numbers and power, it mutated into Lezbo Lib, thus the planet's current moniker. It took many generations, but eventually the females took control of the planet. They rounded up the males and put them in camps, prisons really. The males were forced to do all the manual labor and were treated like cows."
"You mean they were eaten?"
"Not exactly. Folklore has it that they would have all been killed outright, but the females still needed their seed to reproduce and perpetuate their race. So, like cows, they were penned and constrained while their cocks served as udders to milk sperm from their balls. Over time their medical science became more refined, so fairly recently in their history, they castrated all the males and cryogenically preserved their balls, making the eunuchs do all the dirty work until they died from exhaustion or old age. To keep their race pure, they aborted all male fetuses. Early in her reign, young Queen Vetrusca, several generations before Wilhymena, decided to take personal control of the genetic pool. After testing the preserved specimens, she had the most fecund pair grafted to her crotch, connecting the sperm supply to a surgically constructed delivery canal running through her clitoris. The idea was for her to become the queen bee, hoarding all the genetic material, giving her exclusive fucking power over her subjects. The cryogenic idea literally rotted because of a power failure. Now when a new heir apparent matures, they raid another planet and harvest balls to graft onto the future queen. That's about all I know from hearsay gleaned from interplanetary traders. I'm beguiled by their request for diplomatic relations, but I should tell you of my theory, even if it bodes ill for your future." He looked off in the distance, afraid to look me in the eye.
"You must tell me, ancient one, so at least I can prepare myself for my fate."
"Very well, son. When you are presented to the royal court, take careful note of the queen's age and health. Does she look frail and decrepit? Is she mentally sharp?" He hesitated and became silent, so I prompted him to elaborate his theory. "If it is time for Wilhymena to abdicate to a younger leader, I fear that they have sent for you to prepare the princess for the throne."
He held my eye, waiting for it to sink in, then giving up on me, he just blurted it out. Resting a fatherly hand on my shoulder, he said gravely, "I'm sorry son, but I fear that you have been summoned for your genetic codes. I fear that the Lezbos plan to cut off your balls and graft them onto the heir apparent, preparing her to become queen and sole sperminator to the dykes."