The Most Powerful Being in the Universe
Copyright© 2026 by Gigi Potemkin
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - 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 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 force. 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 forced 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...
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