They say in space no one can hear you scream. While the truth of this claim can be verified undeniably across all points of scientific history, it—like many other fundamental laws of the universe—ceased to work when they encounter an alien called Makti. Her snores reverberated through the fabric of space, a loud and irritating alarm for the unfortunate staff and crew of the
Voidlight
that shook them to their souls
.
A flock of Alpha Centurion sparrows chirped a tune outside her window, pecking on the vacuum-sealed glass. The song was "Baby Blue" from Bafinger's 1971 album,
Straight Up.
"Uuurrrhhhhh," Makti groaned. She spat a dirty curse. "
Mornings.
"
The 7ft blue creature lazed in her bed like a dead weight. Her arms and thigh were wrapped lovingly around a tube-like object, the approximate length and thickness of an adult man. The pillow supporting its head was sodden wet with goop, warm and wafting with the smell of nature. The lower half of the blanket bulged with twin domes, gurgling, glorping, swelling at the size of yoga balls. There were not, unfortunately, prizes for guessing what hid beneath. (No, it's not a Diglett.)
Makti sighed deeply, eyes sleepy.
Time to get up.
She whipped the blanket off in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. She rolled to the edge of her bed and dragged her overgrown genitalia along; her balls
thumped!
onto the steel floor, toes curling at the icy bite of cold metal. She slung her man-sized penis over a shoulder, the massive weight barely noticed. She walked to the bathroom, kicking her low hanging fruits, the orbs stewing and churning with untold quantities of seed—
And got stuck in the door.
Makti rolled her head back and groaned.
"Whh
hhyyyyyy...
"
This was, she remarked, the dead last thing she needed in the morning.
Her nutsack popped from the door frame as she reversed backwards, slapping against her shins. Ugh. Makti rubbed her blue balled babies with a tender hand, pouting. The nightly build up was usually bad, but not
this
bad. What had she dreamed about? She couldn't recall.
Suffering with indignity, and grateful she was alone, Makti squatted down and lifted her balls. She could tell in a distant, numb sort of way that they were immensely heavy. Hundreds, maybe a thousand pounds. Such a trivial mass was lost on musculature like hers, however.
What wasn't lost upon her was their
volume.
"Why are you so. Damn.
Big,
" Makti huffed, cheeks squished against the purplish-blue orb. Each gland was too full to squeeze through the portal alone, so Makti just stacked them vertically and applied her most brilliant tactic; brute force.
On the other side, a wall of blueberry cake completely dominated the portal. The twin boulders strained and groaned as Makti pushed, creeping in inches at a time. Deep, terrible noises bellowed from deep within, cum factories waking. Her nutsack creaked like strained leather as the internal organs bloated with hot, waxy seed, the beginning of a flood in the making. Makti twisted her hips at an awkward angle, surgically attached to the wall by a mountain of meat, and
thrusted.
Metal protested against the tide of flesh, but it was a losing battle.
Snap!
Thunk!
"Oof!"
The doorway succumbed to Makti's perseverance and snapped apart, crumpling inwards like a paper bag. The azure alien yelped as she smashed nut-first to the floor, a single tear welling in her eye.
"In," she huffed. "Finally."
Makti looked at herself in the mirror. Her untied hair stuck up in a giant, frizzy mane like a dark storm cloud. She wore a simple white vest that struggled to fit her braless sweater-puppies, thumb-size nipples tenting through the fabric. Ugh. Everything was so
big.
Her hair, her tits, her hips, her cock, her ass, her
everything.
Big wasn't even the right word;
excessive.
She was
excessively
huge in every facet, overgrown beyond the point of need. The sea of testicles blocking her legs was a testament. Why?
Splat!
Makti's head snapped around to the noise, as if someone had dropped a balloon filled with jelly. "Oh."
Her fat, veiny hog extended from her flat crotch, snaking over the swell of her balls. It lay heavy like a giant copper cable and out beyond the bathroom, the foreskin-sheathed head resting on the floor eight-feet away. Makti's heart skipped a beat.
Space-Jesus,
she mentally cursed.
I know I'm huge in the mornings, but this? I'm not even turned on! Did the sex-suppressors stop working?
A fat sphere of fluid traveled up the neck of her shaft, bulging like a creature beneath the surface of the water. A massive glob of pre—indistinguishable from her regular thick, steamy soap—drooled on the floor. A white puddle blossomed and spread. The stink of sex was ripe in the air, making Makti's nostrils flair.
Her balls
groaned
as they inflated, excited by the smell of its own produce.
"Shit," Makti hissed, slowly sliding away from the sink. "Ahhgghhh, come on, guys! Can't I catch a break?"
Her balls responded by brewing a fresh vat of pre.
Gllloorrrrgggggg...
Splat!
The puddle doubled.
"Pleeeeaasseee, just