The Most Powerful Being in the Universe
Copyright© 2026 by Gigi Potemkin
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The most powerful woman in the universe meets its most powerful stallion.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction DomSub FemaleDom Rough Spanking Harem Interracial White Male Hispanic Female Anal Sex Cream Pie Facial Lactation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Squirting Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Size Violence
I stand in the observation room with my companions, and we watch the muscle god run through thousands of women in the blink of an eye.
Our jaws hang low. Our chins shiver. Our breasts heave.
“H-he’s...” One speaks. Then stops. Then, she gulps, and after gathering her bearings (or her ovaries), she pushes through her stammer—and her arousal: “He’s not going to stop, is he?”
No, he is not.
The room shakes and rumbles as the god devastates all those pussies:
Brrrm-Brrrm-Brrrm-Brrrm...
It is impossible for it to rumble, for this room, this whole space station, is the strongest structure in the Universe outside of the core of a neutron star (which actually powers this whole planet-sized thing!).
It is impossible for it to shake or rumble ... yet it does.
Boom-Boom-Boom-Booom...!!
The windows are cracking. We are forced to shut them down.
Iron curtains slide over the windows, encasing the room in darkness.
Artificial lights are turned on, then their brightness is turned higher the more we enclose ourselves in this seemingly safe space, though there are NO safe spaces when that bison is nailing his pussies.
Boom-Boom-Boom-Boom...!!
Even before the windows were shut, we couldn’t see a thing. Every inch of their surface was sprayed with semen.
Booom!! Booom!! Booom...!!
The windows shouldn’t have cracked at all. They, too, were made of an almost impossibly thick and strong substance.
It didn’t matter. The whole Universe was bent and broken by the thrusts of that almighty being.
“Uuuurrhm! Uuurhm! Uuuurrhm...!”
Through the speakers, we hear his roars, his grunts, his groans. “Oh...!”
It’s been weeks since he’d been fucking, but he isn’t tired, and his grunts are mere breaths; they were powerful and deep enough to shake a planet, and we can hear them through the walls even without these audio devices. “Jesus ... god...”
The women mutter and the demon runs through the scored and scads of pussies we throw at him. He isn’t getting any weaker as the days go by. No: he’s only getting stronger!
A powerful rope of cum hits the wall next to us: Bluuuuuursssshh...!! The room shakes harder than average. Booom!! There is a loud thud, and then we see the walls—the impenetrable walls almost as hard as the core of neutron stars!—getting bent and bulged by the force of his sperm jets.
“Fuck, what a monster!”
Our pussies are dripping. No, of course not “dripping.” We’re basically pissing ourself on the ground, which is wet and sticky with our juices.
We are the strongest women in the Universe. The twenty of us in here, in this room, are almost the top 100 strongest bitches in the known Cosmos.
It matters not. Doesn’t make a lick of difference.
“Uuurrhm! Uuurrhm! Uuuurrhm!! Uuuuurrrhm...!!”
Next to that bull, we’re only barely more worthy than the bitches he makes collapse and pass out in violent, virulent orgasms in under a second with the mere flick of his fingers.
“By ... the ... gods...”
The twenty of us would mean only a few hours of fun for him. Quite impressive for us, in fact, given that he’s beating women left and right in under a second.
“He’s too strong. We’re running out of women!”
We watch him through the screens, and we’re forced to deploy almost as many sentries and floating cameras into that breeding room as the women he’s devastating and annihilating with his dick.
“Uuuurrhm! Uuurrrhm! Uuuurrhm!! Uuuurrrhm...!!”
His breeding is spotless. Like a machine. He treats those pussies like neither he not them are humans. Just sticks his dick in them (when they’re strong enough to even not pass out before he touches them), cums, and moves on to the next cunt while the previous one is gushing his semen out of her overstretched hole.
“What a god!”
We watch the monster brutally run through an ocean of women.
There’s an ocean of cum.
An ocean of women and an ocean of cum. The number of women in that room, in this whole station, oh ... it’s plenty. It’s a lot. Even then, it’s only a fraction of the volume of semen he produces.
“How many are we on now?” One of the girls asks amid sweet and high-pitched quivers. “How many women did he breed?”
We check the counter. The counter grows insanely fast.
“Seems like he surpassed 120 million.”
The number dances in our hands. It makes no sense.
“H-how...??”
Even though we see it happening, it still makes no sense, for it’s too much power to be understood, and again, his dick and balls bend space and time.
“Most women are passing out before he even lays a finger on them. They just ... smell him,” I tell them. “And then on their knees they go.” I shrug, trying to show strength by not shivering too much. “He’s annihilating one thousand women per second now.” I look at another monitor. “I suspect we’re running out of prime breeders.”
“The Universe is a big place.”
I stare at the main screen and feel my eggs boil in my womb. “Perhaps, but it’s not big enough for him.”
In the outer layers of the planet station, ships are coming.
Well-ornate, beautiful, impractical ships built for pleasure and luxury.
From these thousands of ships, thousands of pussies each are coming. Their doors slide open, their ramps stretch into the docks, and the thousands of babes come. Tall, pretty, fertile things abounding with height, breasts, legs, ass, and sometimes muscles.
Bwoom-Bwoom-Woom-Woom-Bwoom...
The place shakes with their breasts and boom with the bubbly sounds of their ludicrously nubile bodies.
Thousands of beauties from across the universe. Thousands of victims to be consumed and devoured by the almighty stud.
“Come along! Come along, quick!” Our brave colleagues usher them in, and these women are arrogant and confident, having spent their lives being pampered by the richest magnates in the cosmos and bending all males to their will.
Impossibly beautiful women. All of them are crushed and devoured by our god!
As they approach the breeding dens, we see their confidence wane through the cameras. Their gorgeous faces are filled with doubt, and their bodies no longer shake the environment, but are instead shaken by it.
Brrrrrm! Brrrrrm!! Brrrrrrrm!! Brrrrrrrmm...!!
Even thousands of miles away, they feel the vibrations from our muscle god’s breeding, and by the time they get to “mere” hundreds of miles from his breeding core, the whole station feels like it’s coming apart, just how it feels now, here, in the observation deck.
“Jesus...” I utter. The doors of the breeding den are wide open. We keep an influx of thousands of women a second. This no longer feels like lovemaking, but sacrifice. “At this rate...” I gulp. “We’ll needs dozens of millions per week.”
“Can we supply that?”
I shake my head. “No.” And I gulp. “We’ll need to put him down again.” I look another counter near the monitors, and the number informs me of time. How long he has spent breeding. “We’re clocking in on thirty days now.” I gulp again. “He hasn’t slowed down. In fact, I think he’s just getting started now.”
I hear the many quivers around me.
“W-what??”
I look at them. I smile, but I’m also terrified. “I think ... all this time...” I gulp one last time. “He’s just been warming up.”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BOOM...!!!
Through the screens, we look into the room and see nothing but a sea of semen bursting and exploding with the violence of a planet being born, like the primordial Earth.
“Uuuurrhm! Uuuurrhm! Uuuurrhm!! Uuuuurrhm!!
Thousands of women are fed into the room. They are brough to him by small ships and drone. No longer can they just walk into the room, as there’s just semen everywhere, and the tip of his penis produces enough loads to fill up rivers.
“Uuurrhm! Uuurrhm! Uuuurhm...!!”
Our monster is enjoying himself, but he is professional, methodical, rhythmical, even boring at times. He has no “skill” or special moves. He merely grabs the women, lines their cunt with his semen, and cums.
Their bodies are instantaneously filled with semen. In one second, we see their bellies bulge to the size of a yoga ball, then two yoga balls, and then, by the point he’s about to “pop” them with his semen, the god throws them away and grabs the other woman.
Like a machine. A business man. Breeding is his business, and he practices it with near psychotic, cold, and ruthless professionalism.
“Uuuuuurrrhmm...!!!”
The bull breathes out steam with every grunt. We see his handsome face, and some of us kneel because of it. Out legs grow weak and out bodies sort of fall, but we support ourselves on the consoles and avoid falling down completely.
“Such a god!! S-such...!” Many of the pussies around me explode into loud, steamy gushes as the women behold his heavenly face. “God, he is such a stud!!”
Their eyes are rolling. We look at the stallion’s face and try to read his emotions. He is ... fully human. We can barely believe it, but we now that his genes are 100% natural-born human, with no genetic modification or artificial enhancement we know of.
He is a pure-bred, corn-fed, natural-born human ... and he’s a beast!
His face is indecipherable. We see pleasure on it, yes, but also ... dedication.
“Uuurrhm! Uuuurhm! Uuuuurrhm...!”
A machine-like dedication in breeding for the sake of breeding, ignoring all pleasure for himself, simply picking up one woman after another and making sure they are all plump and swollen with his semen.
“Uuurhm-aarh! Uuurhm-aarh!!”
The god sometimes changes his pace, but that’s very subtle and hardly noticeable. As I said, he’s rather boring in a way, and he needs no special moves or particular “skill” in the bed when the sight of his face alone is enough to knock down, even knock up a woman.
“GOD!! You are such a ... G-GOD!!”
Case in point: some of the girls fall around me.
“Pick yourself up, girls.” I myself am only barely hanging on. My legs are wobbly and my pussy is melting. The drainage system in the room is working hot, almost getting clogged up at some points, but it can barely be compared to the desperate situation down below, in the breeding damn.
“Warning! Emergency pipe system number 34 is unusable.” We hear the warnings and see them flashing on the screens. “Expanding emergency system number 35, 36, 37, and 38 to 100% capacity. Systems 39, 40, and 41 not at 80%. Systems 42, 43, 44 at 60% capacity.” And so on.
Each drainage system is designed to handle the volume of a small ocean from planet Earth. A few of these systems together hold the same volume as the Indian Ocean in its prime. Ten of these systems, the Atlantic Ocean.
“Dear ... god...”
We watch, after thirty days of ceaseless, uninterrupted breeding, the god produce more semen than perhaps the total water volume of two planet Earths.
He’s not merely a beast. He is a cosmic deity able to flood an entire world with his penis.
“Jesus...!”
I’m hot. I can’t deny I’m hot ... and I’m eager to join him in that abattoir.
Anyway, more women keep arriving. Whatever arrogance was left in their faces before they entered the room, it completely vanished once they got a very good look at him.
Their faces break. Their expressions melt. Their pussies explode.
Thousands of women fall every second. It’s a good thing that the god doesn’t actually get to “put them down” personally at first, as they pass out on their own, at the mere sight of him.
All those muscles...
All that power...
All that DICK!
Booom! Boom! Boom! Boom...!!
We see the stallion grab ten women from the ground with his two hands, wrap them around his cock like an improvised condom of ass and tit-flesh, and then fuck himself with their whole bodies like they’re some kind of collective fleshlight.
His penis spews and spews and spews so much semen!
Bluuurssh-Bluuursh-Bluuurssh-Bluuuuuursssh...!!
Rivers emerged from his heated tip and travel a mile until the spherical ceiling of that planetoid-sized room. They splash on the ceiling with such force that they run over the entire sphere, coating every inch of the ceiling, then the walls, with his cum.
BLOOORSSH!! BLOOOOORSSH!! BLOOOOOORSSH...!!
That’s a single one of his loads. A single one of his pumps every time he drags those bodies up and down his colossal penis.
“Uuurh! Uuurhm! Uurrhm! Uuuurhm...!!”
For every grunt he gives, there is a pump, a mighty ejaculations: Blooooooorssshh...!! And then a whole ocean is born! A river system of cum!
“I’m joining them,” I utter. Every inch of me is shivering when I turn around and prepare to leave my colleagues. “Prepare the tranquilizers. All the venom and poison. Everything.” I crack my knuckles and shake my bosom as I step outside of the observatory like a model on her catwalk, shaking a whole planet with the power of my gait. “We’ll need to put him down again. This cannot go on any longer.”
The women, though startled, don’t raise a single word of complaint. They all obey me and follow me. “Should we fuck him?”
I smirk. “Of course we shall!”
I flex my muscles. Boom! Boom! Boom! I feel my bicep bulge through the sleeves of my suit, then shred it: Thrash!!
My body rumbled and booms with power, and so do all the bodies of my companions. Mighty! Hot! Tall! Strong!
We are twenty of the top one hundred strongest women in the universe, and though we’re close to the bottom of this list, it’s still unfathomable power, and we stand on a scale that is simply incomprehensible for a loser like you.
After all the preparations are set, we head to the breeding den, the twenty of us, oh, making the room shake a little more as our stallion runs through those babies like they’re made of wet paper.
We’re mighty. We’re strong. We’re arrogant and haughty ... and we’re angry that we’re not going to last more than a few hours with him. Collectively. That is, all of us put together!
Each and every single one of us is powerful enough to destroy a planet with our bare feet and our naked bodies ... and still ... next to him ... we’re nothing but above-average sex toys; noteworthy only in the sense that we don’t pass out immediately upon seeing him.
Ding-ding! Ding-ding! Ding-ding!
On our way down there, we hear a different noise. “Hmm.” I look at my tablet, my portable monitor. “Oh, wow. That’s interesting.”
“What?”
I show it to them. “It seems like we have received ... a special offering for the god.” I chance course and head on a completely new direction. “To the teleporters, we go.”
Some of the girls gasp when they see what’s on the tablet, but others don’t have either the opportunity or the patience to look, so they hop over to my side and ask: “What is it? Where are we going?”
“To the ports. The space ports.”
“Why?”
I look straight in their eyes as I reveal the juicy happening: “The Elites have arrived.”
Pussies are clenched. Bits are bitten. Jaws are dropped. Saliva is drooled. “Whaaaaaat????”
As we enter the teleporters, I continue to tell them: “Yes. It seems the goddess got our message.”
“The ... goddess...”
I look at them as the mesmerizing threads of light begin to swirl around our bodies at the start of the teleportation process. “Yes. At long, the truth about Jupiter and Galatea’s son is revealed, and it seems that our goddess, instead of coming here on her own, decided to send her strongest warriors first to see if all the rumors are correct. Well, not rumors,” I giggle. “But to see if our message is serious or if we’re pulling a prank on her. Anyway,” I sigh. “Even if the goddess believed us (and there’s no credible reason why she wouldn’t, it’s not befitting of someone in her station to come here first. No. Someone lesser must come first and report their findings to her. Only then will the goddess decide if this matter is worthy of her attention.”
There is silence between us girls are the teleporters are about to send us thousands of miles closer to the surface. “The goddess ... huh?”
Some of them are slow to catch on, and her nearest friends give them a summary of what I just said: “The goddess has sent the Elites to see if this stud is all he’s cracked up to be!”
“Oh, he is!” The others mutter, their legs dripping a lot of squirt on the teleporters, delaying the teleportation just a little. “He is! And he might even be able to break h-”
Whoooosh!! We’re whisked away across the station.
We arrive instantaneously on Port Alpha, which is the largest, grandest docking area in our station. The size of a massive country. From where we stand, we can see hundreds of thousands of ships, and we can only see a fraction of it.
“Oh ... hmm!” Some of the girls are a little wobbly as they leave the teleportation pods. Usually, a regular person would need twenty-four hours of rest and sleep to recover from the teleportation. All those women around us, the ones coming fresh from their ships, need only an hour, being so superior in every regard to a “regular” human being. “Oh, brrr! I’m going to barf!”
We, on the other hands, need no rest at all. At worst, we get a little discombobulated, a tad dizzy, but that’s all. It would take hundreds of these trips in quick succession to do any damage to our bodies. Well, “damage” isn’t even the write word. More like, “inconvenience.” Yeah. Only hundreds of successive teleportations back-to-back would begin to mildly inconvenience us.
“Stay clear! Make way for the Alphas!” More women gather around us, and they’re the highest-ranking members in that port. Many ranks below us, of course, so they bow and shiver as they stand before our taller, bustier, mightier frames. “My goddesses!” They salute us. “You...” Their leader turns her gaze to me, and her face is beautiful beyond description, like a angel—but an angel standing next to a god, who is me! “My goddess!” She bows again. “You have received my notice, I see.”
“Yes, I have, and we’re here to welcome our surprise guests.” I look around, and fuck, the place is a war zone. As many women are arriving as they are leaving. “Oh, wow.” Countless more women, from the tens of millions of supersoldier females we employ to keep the station running, are bring back the girls our god has devoured.
I see their bodies laying down on those hospital beds, those beds with wheels (I never bothered to learn how they’re called; get used to this, btw, you pathetic worm, for my world is comprised mostly of FUCKING, and proper grammar or vocabulary is reserved only for pathetic, worthless nerds like you), their limbs quivering still from the orgasms that never really stopped, and their pussies, mouths, holes bursting with hot semen, building trails, no, rivers of cum along the way, and then more soldiers run after them with complex suction machines to clean up all that semen.
Hundreds of thousands of women are being rolled out of the station as hundreds of thousands more arrive. Here, in the mouth of the station, is where the sacrificial aspect of our god’s breeding is more pronounced that ever: millions of pussies come in, millions of pussies come out.
At the rate of several millions of pussies a day, our god needs the total supply of prime pussies of the entire galaxy just to keep his dick wet. At the rate he’s going, though, we’re already consuming a steady stream of beauty from all twelve nearby galaxies—and again, it’s not stopping, but getting worse!
“My lady?”
I hear the voice of my servant again, and it brings me back to the tasks at hand. “Sorry. Was looking around just a bit.”
“Ah, yes,” she kindly giggles. “It’s quite something, isn’t it?”
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