#abullwaspowerful

Yes... it goes straight to your thighs... but anything that goes to my thighs goes to my um.

here, eat this cake that totally wont turn your excess thighmeat into twin cocks and assmeat into balls!

That was suspicious wording... Rose certainly wouldnt want to be some hyper hung super stud... Being gawked and drooled over by every slut on campus.

Which was, naturally, every woman on campus. Not even the most so called studious woman could resist her. She wouldn't be able to sit down without every woman carefully listening to her gonad's gurgle, her sexual satisfaction the highest priority of every womb on campus. The merest heartbeat, when echoed to her towering lengths, forced into the most overt and carnal of flirtations. Not even Kanaya would be able to resist her...

That sounded awful! Rose would hate that!

But... they did say that WOULDN'T happen, they promised. And it'd be rude to turn down a gift... was there even any choice to resist here? Rose bit into the cake, the gooey, oh so moist cake. It dissolved into her mouth, and hardly the best flavor, almost like a savory sludge... So Rose ate quickly, her mouth bulging as she gulped every bite all at once.

And so, it hit her all at once.

Rose spread her legs, her thighs burning, her butt churning, as they swelled, twitched, throbbed. Beneath her tight thighs her legs pulsed, seeming to bulge larger and larger as Rose's screams went louder and the pressure got bigger and bigger. Rose needed to pop, Rose needed release, Rose needed, she needed...

To cum! Like the shell of a egg Rose's pants cracked, two fat cocks bursting free and flopping onto her desk, each one a third leg on their own right. Thicker then her head, longer then her arm, each one happily spraying a bucket worth of inagural baby batter. Rose slumped forward, still cumming, as heavy boulder sized balls slapped against the back of her shins, enormous, person sized people factories that barely hanged above the floor.

Rose was enormous, bigger then enormous, her sexy supercock was instead two fat constant cumming artillery cannons. A pair utterly unsuited for any woman not determined to have her mind and body irrevocably warped around a torso sized super shaft. They were things of worship, something that could only be embraced and satisfied by a personal throng of worshippers.

For each shaft.

........ So, Rose........ Please tell me the truth. I'm not mad, I just need to know. Did I just spend two hours on my hands and knees, scooping up a literal pond's worth of cum, and breathing in the pheromone fumes? If I did, is this your cum? Or is it someone else's? I have other questions, but I need to know the answer to this, before I ask any of the other questions.

Vriska I have cum more in the last five hours then I had blood in my body. Every 30 minutes. Forgive me if some things fall from wayside.

[Attached: A 5 minute long MP3 recording of Rose talking about as if the other Rose was strapped to a milking machine, talking about how utterly virile she is and how a single jar of her cum could impregnate a village without failure. It ends with her saying "A little gift for you, dear. Enjoy."]

Dominance was not about power. A bull was powerful, a beast of pure muscle. A bull also sit in its pen, carefully being lead to pasture by farmers a quarter of its weight who tell it what a good little beast it is as the behemoth pulled massive metal blades behind it. Power had very little to do with domination, except as a prize to be won.

Dominating was about CONTROL, about being in control of yourself, and in the head of the other. About wanting to win while your partner wanted you. Know yourself and your lover. A thousand women, a thousand pets.

Rose knew herself, even as reality warped around her and who ROSE was changed, Rose knew exactly where she stood, she was a rebel, then a princess. But mostly, she was a cat, someone who played with their food. Really the sex, as cruel or sweet as it was, was little more then a reward she gave out from time to time. Rose was in it for the love of the game, the look in the others eyes.

But Rose wasn't a cat anymore. Rose was a pair of cocks. Immense cocks, virile cocks, who could flood a thousand wombs and knock up a village with a single jar. More hormones flowed through her body then oxygen, and it was wearing her down, drowning her in white. The fact Rose could still speak coherently in full sentences was a testament to her iron clad will. Most woman would go mad... but Rose could still see her priorities change, see her mind follow along to the older Rose, the more mature Rose's fantasies. Rose could see it, a entire city wrapped around her shafts, cooing in awe as she trembled and came into one worthy wench after another after another. The one stud for a entire city. A object of worship.

But a object nonetheless.

And Rose was okay with that, Cocks didn't worry about those things, they just worried about cummings, and the women they were cummings inside.

Oh? Rose was cumming right now? When did that start.... when will that stop? Rose didn't know...

It was a bit like the curse of narcissus, except the pool of reflection was a audio track created by a older version of herself to toy with her. Rose would've done the exact same thing, which only made it harder to turn it off.

So she didn't, she was hard enough. So the voice played on loop, praising her, telling her how big she was, how great her cocks were...

And then it played again.

"Why would you tell me that?" Rose squeaked, her cocks throbbing all the larger from the imagining. With the amount of cum she was spraying over herself Vriska would NEVER clean it all up. Shed be on her knees scrubbing and scrubbing, covered in it, inhaling its fumes... Drowing in it.

Drowning in her.

It was a distressingly appealing visual, and Rose could only stare dumbly at the screen, struggling whether to keep going or turn around and contront Vriska herself... Her body however had no debate. It wanted to grow, it wanted release. So the twins continued to drool, Rose's sack emptying its contents atop its massive boulders, coating Rose in her own shame.

Oh! Oh... um... are peoole talking about it.

Yeah I had to miss practice somethings came up. And up and up and ooooh I need to stop talking about it. It aches to talk about.

Vriska was a slut.

Sometimes people seem to forget that, or at least think they get it, but they never seem to realize how deep that well goes. Rose could push and push and yet no matter how deep and long Rose tried... Vriska always asked for more.

Even now, sitting atop the most hung man, woman, or likely animal alive (though Rose would have to double check the last part she was no biologist), Vriska was as comfortable as can be. Squirming on her sack, humping the air, drooling on her cock.

She was having a wet dream, about her, again!

Which, considering Rose WAS a walking wet dream, felt almost rude.

Fortunately, Rose hardly was low on options.

The two walked through the hall, dragging and growing, and jiggling back into Rose's room, the freshly cleaned, now resoiled, dormitory. It got easier somehow, Rose was getting used to the weight, it was almost comfortable, feeling that thick sack drag barely above the floor.

Wait... above the floor? Rose had to drag those breederboulders through her own cum puddles... but sure enough, her sack, which only seemed to be heavier, hovered just over the puddles of herself that she waded through.

Was she getting taller?

Eh, it was hard to care, Rose had changed so much there wasn't much of a difference if she kept growing, going? Who knew. Rose barely resembled Rose as is, Rose wasn't a potent bull-factory after all. This Rose was.

AND VRISKA HADN'T EVEN SEEN HER! Rose jolted in the realization. Vriska had knocked herself out before turning the corner. Shes only seen a taste of what she is now...