Knock knock knock.

“Flux? One of your fans is here. May we open the door?”

“Just a minute, I’m still changing!” Flux, an up-and-coming male pop idol, was getting ready for the second big show on his cross-country tour. The first concert in the series went fantastic – the crowd was energetic, media attention to the event was far beyond what his managers expected, and there were no…accidents.

Flux, which was his stage name, had been making and producing music on his own for a little over a year before his tour took off. However, he only ever released it anonymously. Flux loved music, and he was a very talented artist and showman, but he had a secret he needed to hide from the rest of the world before he could make his public debut: Flux has an absolutely enormous cock. His gargantuan member wasn’t just large relative to his height, a pint-sized four-feet tall, it was titanic by any and all metrics. He could make a bull jealous, and he was just about as thick around as he was long. When totally erect, his manhood was better comparable to another small person than it was to even an arm or a leg. This is why he was so worried about on-stage accidents. Specifically, wardrobe malfunctions. He could only barely stuff his monstrous meat into his pant-leg while he was flaccid. If an audience member flashed him, or if he had a dirty thought while he was singing? Career over. It was only after a talent agency tracked him down that he was finally convinced to take his music career live. Only two other people, besides his parents, knew about Flux’s big secret: His manager, and his costume-designer. His costume-designer seemed to be somewhat of a genius, too. She made him several pairs of specialized pants that could compress and mask his sizeable bulge. They worked perfectly on the first day of the tour, and he’d be relying on them again tonight.

“God damnit…Could she have made these any harder to get on?!” Flux whispered to himself, under his breath. His big-dick problems couldn’t all be solved by just one pair of pants. He still needed to squeeze into them before every show. He jostled the waist band, jangling his tacky arrow-pattern belt-buckle. The further he pushed the fabric of his pant-leg up his elephantine member, the further it started to slip out above his bellybutton. Every time he pulled his pants up, he had to stop and use one of his hands to stuff his dick back inside. After about 10 more seconds of struggling, Flux breathed a heavy sign of relief. “Whew…They’re on. Finally.” After clearing his throat, he called for his manager to open the door.

“U-u-uhm…Hi there, F-F-F-F-Flux…” A shy-looking girl with long, wavy brown hair peeked out from behind the half-opened door. Her eyes were hidden behind her bangs, so Flux couldn’t see where they were looking. She was facing directly at him, but was she making eye contact? He just couldn’t tell. Gradually, she stepped out from behind the door, revealing her titan-like frame. She was enormous, maybe almost three times bigger than Flux. Or larger. Did people really get this tall? She wasn’t just tall, though. She was wide. If she was so inclined, she probably could have crushed his skull in-between her thighs like a marshmallow between her teeth. Those calves weren’t anything to shake a stick at, either. Thick, meaty, and powerful. Flux’s gaze, out of body parts to marvel out at the bottom of her body, wandered upward.

Her mountainous breasts heaved with every breath she took. Each one could probably hold enough milk to feed three cow-calfs. This fan definitely had the figure of a nurturing, providing mother. The two of them were so large that Flux could hardly even see her stomach. Some faint lines seemed to indicate she had an hourglass figure, but her tits eclipsed over 80% of her torso. Her femininity was utterly overwhelming. She was the spitting-image of an ancient fertility goddess, at least in her proportions. Flux still couldn’t make out much of her face, though. She had a sharp, cute chin, gentle, pursed lips and a petite nose, but her eyes were lost behind a thick curtain of dark-chocolate strands.

This was going to be a difficult fan interaction.

Flux had been so enamored with her physical figure, he almost forgot to take note of what she was wearing. Nothing special about her pants, just some pre-torn jeans. They did look good on her, though. Her t-shirt looked like some of his merchandise: A plain-white fitted-tee with his stage-name emblazoned on the front. Simple, let fashionable.

“Wait, did she…write something on her shirt?” Flux thought to himself. By squinting his eyes, he thought he could see a couple of extra letters she had drawn under his name, in permanent marker. “Does that say…Flux ME?”

It did. She had penned the word “ME” underneath Flux’s name. Flux Me. Dangerously close in spelling and pronunciation to “Fuck Me.” Clever wordplay. Highly disturbing, but clever.

“Oh no…She’s one of those kinds of fans…”

This was going to be a very difficult fan interaction.

“I h-have a p-pa-pass…” She pointed at a tiny plastic square on her breast, attached to a black lanyard tied around her neck. She was shaking, too. Shaking and sweating. Her knees were buckled inward, and the white t-shirt she was wearing was a little sweaty around the pits and neck.

“O-oh, yeah, the Hyper-VIP backstage pass.” Why was the manager giving those things out, again? “I guess that means you can come inside and hang out before the show starts.” Flux could feel the fabric in his pants tightening up. “Keep cool, Flux, she’s just a fan. She’s not coming onto you. She’s just nervous.” He repeated this to himself as his special guest shut the door behind her. Now it was just the two of them. Alone. Both incredibly nervous, or so Flux thought.

“I’m y-your big-g-gest fha-an,” she stuttered, slurring some of her words a little.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Flux kept his smart-alecky retort to himself.

“M-my name is Sasha-aaaaa.” Getting out the last syllable of her name seemed like a real struggle. The last “a” in “Sasha” was communicated through gritted teeth and a bit of drool.

“Um, Miss Sasha? Are you alright?” Flux was expressing genuine concern for her. As strange as she was, he didn’t want her to have a seizure or something. She probably needed medical attention.

“O-oh my GOD! F-flux sa-said m-my naaaaaaaame~!” Suddenly, the crotch of Sasha’s designer jeans darkened, drenched with female ejaculate. She was squirting right in the middle of his green room. Her fluids ran down her things, filling up her big, punky leather boots. She covered her mouth with one hand, suppressing her moans, and used the other to frantically unbutton her pants.

“W-what the-“ Before Flux could fully voice his confusion, Sasha slammed against him with a forceful body-check. The male pop-idol fell to the ground, his cry silenced. All he could do, as he gasped for air and picked himself off the ground, was look at Sasha.

As the tiny talent underneath Sasha picked himself up, she’d managed to get her pants undone. She dropped them, and a pungent aroma filled the room. Not a disgusting stench, but an intoxicating blend of pheromones and hot-and-heavy sweat. Put simply: It smelled like sex. A soft, rubber, foot-long, vibrating, purple dildo flopped out of her vagina, hitting the floor with a loud, wet SPLAT. It whirred and smacked itself against the white carpet as Sasha’s goo seeped into and stained the expensive wool flooring. Liberated from the mad, mechanical beast that was driving her insane, Sasha continued removing her pants and underwear. She kept her jeans close, but tossed her tiny, black, satin panties across the room. She wouldn’t be needing those.

“Flux, my darling…” Now that she had removed her toy, she could speak clearly. Her voice had changed from shy and girlish to sultry and domineering. She grabbed Flux’s cheeks in a single hand, closing his mouth shut so that he couldn’t speak. “I really am your biggest fan, you know. I own all your records, all of your merchandise, and run all of your fan-sites. I even know all of the rumors about you…Like this one.” Sasha cupped his groin with the palm of her free hand. “The rumors about why you never do live shows…” She was leaning in closer than before, whispering directly into his ear.

The tightening in Flux’s pants accelerated rapidly into a loud and destructive tearing. RIIIIP. There went his pants, and here came his package. Flux’s balls exploded out of his pants, pushing Sasha’s palm away and bouncing about like balloons before finally settling to rest, slung over his toothpick legs. Each one held 8 liters of ultra-potent heavy cream, any they were more than capable of producing much more when he was significantly aroused. For this reason, among many others, Flux didn’t masturbate often. It wasn’t just messy; his insurers would probably classify his orgasms a source of flood damage. He could practically see his safety-deposit flying away: A little roll of hundreds with tiny wings, taking off from his wallet.

Flux’s monstrous cock erupted out of his pants, too. It was like a whale jumping from the surface of a kiddy-pool. Fully-erect, veiny, and with a bright-red, flared tip, fully-engorged with blood. The promising young idol’s big secret was out and flopping about. It landed over Sasha’s shoulder as she was bent down to hold him. He could feel the cool sweat that had soaked its way trough her shirt against the underside of his penis. The sensation of the temperature difference across both ends of his meat-pole was highly stimulating. Sasha’s eyes wandered over her shoulder, to her hostage’s supernatural endowment.

“My, I didn’t think the rumors would have been wrong in this way. They said you were big, but nothing like this. Hmm…I wonder how you taste…” Sasha licked her lips, making them glisten brightly under the shining lights of their changing room.

Knock knock knock.

“Show starts in 3 minutes, you two. Sasha, can you come out and wait with me while Flux does his last-minute preparation routine? You can come back in to talk with him after the show.” It was Flux’s manager, from the other side of the door. The same person that let Sasha in to begin with.

“Uh…sure!” Sasha’s voice went back to shy and girly. This time, without the stutter. “I’ll be out in just a few seconds!” Turning back to Flux, she whispered to him again: “Come on, let me escort you to the stage.” She grabbed her soaked, torn-up jeans off the floor and put both her legs in. Before pulling them up, however, she brought Flux in closer to her body. The steam emanating from her stuffy underside, which was still dripping with girl cum, came over Flux like a blast of hot air. The smell, too. It was overpowering. He flared his nostrils, taking in as much of her scent as he could. His cock was already out…what was the point in resisting any longer? Sasha could see the will to fight leaving Flux’s eyes. Mentally, she had him exactly where she wanted; all that was left to do was put him there physically. “Stay still now, big guy.”

Sasha let go of Flux’s face, setting him down on his back. His manhood towered over his head, coming all the way up to Sasha’s thighs. She turned around over him, squatted, and slowly started her perilous descent down his prodigious pole. She had some difficulty forcing his blunt, flared, thick mushroom-tip inside, even with the tide of love juices streaming out of her vagina and over his entire length. It eventually broke through with an audible SCHLORP, swallowed up by Sasha’s insatiable sex. With the widest obstacle out of the way, her gluttonous body took in more and more of Flux’s phallus. She could feel every centimeter of his 4-foot cock sliding in and grinding against her walls. The contours of his member, rich with heavy veins and a pronounced cumvein, rubbed against the deepest and most intimate regions of her sex. Deeper, further, until it suddenly stopped. For as big a girl Sasha was, she wasn’t a bottomless pit. She could only accommodate about three-fourths of Flux before cervical penetration, and only a few more inches after that before he totally bottomed out. There was still about a foot of cock below her, cold and practically begging for room inside.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“Sasha, open up! You have to leave NOW. Flux, tell her she can talk with you AFTER THE SHOW! You’ve got a crowd of ninety-thousand fans waiting out there!”

Flux’s senses came back to him for a moment, however briefly.

“Oh…Oh shit! Sasha, please, get off!”

“That’s what I’m waiting for you to do. You’re almost in all the way, just stay…STILL!” Sasha, in one swift movement, slammed her giant ass against Flux’s chest, silencing his protests yet again. More than that, she forced the remaining foot of his dick inside herself. Her womb stretched with inhuman ease, creating extra space for him in his tight pink tunnel. All of that displaced flesh and skin formed a monumental bulge at her abdomen, one that rode up to her breasts and poked through her shirt. She wasn’t going to fool anyone looking like that. She looked like the was smuggling an artillery shell under her shirt. She’d stick out in a crowd, no doubt, but not even the wildest, dirtiest of imaginations could possibly guess that the thing protruding from her chest was another person’s erection.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmhh…Oh, Flux, baby…” Sasha took a moment to coo and marvel at the outgrowth coming from her stomach before grabbing the waist of her pants. “Just stay quiet down there until we reach the stage…Let’s give your loving fans a show they’ll never forget.” With Flux still hilted in her sopping wet cunt, she pulled up her jeans. He was trapped, squeezed between designer fabric and a sea of butt. Sasha’s ass was so fat and squishy that he sunk right in. Suffocating against her body, Flux had no way of fighting back.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“SASHA! You need to–Oh…” The manager stopped her screaming mid-sentence.

“Uh-um…I’m sorry…I was having Mr. Flux sign something for me, and I couldn’t find my pen,” Sasha said as she walked out the door. She was putting on her shy act again.

“O-oh…Well, just get to your seat. The show starts in 2 minutes. Flux needs to make some last-second checks before he can go on.”

“I-I understand…We’ll g-get g-g-going, th-then…” Sasha ran off into the tunnel under the stage. Confused, Flux’s manager watched Sasha stumble out of her sight.

“Wait…Did she say ‘we’?”

–

“WE WANT FLUX! WE WANT FLUX! WE FANT FLUX!” The chanting from the crowd was incredibly loud. Crowd enthusiasm was off the charts. They wouldn’t accept the star of the show a second later than he was schedules to arrive. Everyone was staring with ravenous eyes at the tunnel that lead to the stage, waiting for the “New Prince of Pop,” as some music publications were calling him, to enter the stadium.

“Hey, look! There’s someone coming out of the tunnel!” a fan with a pair of binoculars yelled to the rest of his group, signaling for them to get their light-sticks ready.

“Whoa, hold on! That’s not Flux!” another fan said in response to the first.

“What?! Then who the hell is it?!” a third chimed in.

“I dunno…It looks like some fat bitch!”

Sasha walked slowly and deliberately out of the tunnel. She could hear the booing and jeering from hordes of disappointed fanboys and fangirls alike; Flux attracted quite a diverse crowd. The insults didn’t bother her much. In fact, they sort of excited her. Everyone there came from miles around to see Flux; some even took planes from neighboring countries or states. His appeal was international, maybe even interplanetary for all Sasha knew. No matter what anybody screamed at her, she knew she had one thing nobody else in that crowd would ever have: Flux, buried balls-deep in her quivering womanhood. She wouldn’t be content to just come home with him, though. She intended to show off Flux’s very special love for her in a very special way.

Sasha continued the long trek down the brightly-lit catwalk towards center-stage, Flux firmly but secretively in tow. Sandwiched between ass and denim, the tiny pop-star was still conscious. Just barely, though. Her overwhelming musk, paired with his lack of access to oxygen, weakened his willpower and mental state. One of two things were about to happen. Option one: Flux was going to be knocked out first and then cum recklessly in his sleep, flooding the venue. Option two: He’d lose control and erupt before he passed out, cause an even greater flood, and he’d be able to witness his career as a musician drown before his very eyes.

“Please, let me lose consciousness before this happens,” he thought.

“U-um, s-s-sorry everybody,” Sasha spoke into the microphone after finally making it to the performance stage. She had to squat down quite a ways to pick up the mic, since it was adjusted for Flux’s diminutive height. As she rose back up with it, straightening her legs, she could feel the contents of her sex pulse and shake. Flux was getting even more excited. The clapping of her cheeks in that movement approximated something like a twerk, gripping and choking his immense rod. The feeling in the pit of her body gave Sasha a wonderful idea. “F-f-flux i-is gonna beeee~h a whittle la-laaaahte~…” Her speech was starting to fail again. Both of them were racing closer and closer to a show-stopping climax.

The crowd exploded in concerned murmurs and loud, disapproving roars.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN LATE?! WHERE’S FLUX?!”

“O-oooooowhh~ Fwux’ll bhe h-heeerrre soown…” Sasha wasn’t lying. He’d be coming real soon. She could feel it, and the crowd was starting to hear it.

“Hey, what’s that gurgling noise? Is that coming through the speakers on stage?” Crowd members who weren’t yelling at Sasha were talking concernedly among themselves. “Is that her stomach?”

Sasha, despite her weak, jelly legs, started to lightly and covertly thrust and shake her hips. She was trying to coax and orgasm out of Flux without tipping off the crowd. It was working. The pressure at the base of his erection built up higher and higher, becoming harder and harder to hold back. His testicles tensed up, signaling his coming arrival. This was the point of no return. Sasha could have stopped at this very moment, dropped her pants, and let him out of her, but it would all have been too little too late. He was going to explode. Now.

SPLOOOOOOOOOORT.

The sound of his seed bursting out into Sasha’s womb echoed through the entire stadium. Ninety-thousand fans, music executives, members of the press, and the individuals professionally video-taping the event stood or sat completely dumbfounded. Along with the low, wet noise of Flux’s release, Sasha’s gut inflated to hold in all of his boy-pudding. In a fraction of a second, her sploodge-filled abdomen had spread to the size of an exercise ball; she look as through she could been gestating a full-grown human, maybe even a basketball player. A little bit was starting to leak out of her groin, staining her dark-blue pants white. The warm sensation of his own cum washing over his hips, mixing together, thinning, and becoming even more slippery with Sasha’s love juices, flipped a dangerous switch in his pleasure centers. He needed more. More of this beautiful, heavenly sensation. More cum, all over him, and all over Sasha. It’d be impossible for her to hog all of it in her womb. She couldn’t hope to stretch large enough. A tidal wave was about to wash through the crowd.

Flux started thrusting his hips, shooting shockwaves of bliss through both himself and Sasha. She hugged her own giant gut, overstuffed with his marvelous nut, while Flux struggled and fought against her vice-like grip. The fluid pressure applied by his cum was difficult to push against, but each delve into Sasha’s loving box dug buckets of cum out of her, straining through stretched-out fabric and spilling all over the floor underneath them.

“O-oh, FUUUUUUUUUCK!” Sasha, lost in the throws of her own orgasm, had absolutely zero strength left in her legs. Without the support of her bloated belly, she would have fallen straight to the ground, face first. “YES! Fuck me, Flux! Fill me! Pop me, even! Anything you want! I’m your personal condommmmmmm~!” Her head shook, teeth clenched and mouth drooling. In her rough spasming and shaking, she’d inadvertently parted her long, sweat-drenched hair to reveal heart-shaped pupils and a twisted ahegao. The mic was still turned on, and the video-feed to the jumbo monitors all around the stadium was still life. Ninety-thousand viewers and listeners. Having a crowd was exhilarating.

Flux tunneled faster, deeper, and harder into his biggest fan until arriving at his second climax. Intense feelings of thrill and joy consumed his entire being. It was coming. Soon. Closer, closer, and closer still. This must be what all of his fans really wanted, right? Surely, they must. He wanted it, after all. Didn’t they want him to be happy? More than anything he’d ever wanted or waited for in his entire life, Flux wanted to cum.

And he did.

“W-whoaaaaa~! Fluxyyy~! Let it all ooooooutttt!” Sasha, could feel a tremendous upsurge in her womb. Like a pneumatic pump, Flux was shooting out huge, continuous loads while maintaining his thrusting. He was a machine. More and more cream filled her belly, stretching it further and further and turning her taut skin pink. She sloshed around on stage like a water-balloon filled with honey until she couldn’t hold any more. Then, all of what Flux produced started to escape out the back, washing over his naked, tiny frame and out into the stadium. It really was like a wave. It overtook the low-seating area, drenching the best-paying fans in his baby batter. Tears streamed down each of their faces. They were tears of bliss. Both of their tongues lay outside their mouths. They couldn’t muster up the jaw-strength to grit their teeth any longer. All of the cum flowing back out of Sasha’s bottomless box tore up her jeans, freeing Flux and allowing him to breathe. With his freedom, he was also able to pull his cock out further for more forceful, satisfying penetrations. With inhuman stamina and hip and leg-strength, the jizz-fountain idol pumped out more, more, and more still. Hot, sticky, gooey loads, second after second, moment after moment. He didn’t stop. His hunger couldn’t be sated.

–

After an hour on stage, it finally stopped. The entire stadium, coated wall-to-wall with Flux’s glorious sperms. Millions upon millions of haploid cells swimming around inside Sasha, and an innumerable amount inside the vast ocean of spunk they had created together. Atop the stage, breathing heavily, Flux and Sasha layed together. Flux, sleeping soundly with his semi-erect cock hanging over her upturned stomach and dribbling out the last of the semen his balls could produce. Sasha, laying on her back, swollen, happy, and basking in the afterglow. Sasha pulled an unconscious Flux in close for a kiss, forcing her tongue down his throat. He slowly blinked back awake, staring into her shimmering, star-stricken eyes.

“Ohh, Fluxxy…Will you sign my autograph book? Every page of it?”