“The world is changing.”
A booming announcing voice from the speakers greeted the gathered press in this exhibition centre, all of them gossiping among themselves excitedly. After all, to be invited to one of the famous press conferences of the world’s richest men was quite the honour and well-wroth the vetting process. The next second, sparkling pillars of fire exploded from the stage, Greco-columns slowly rising from below, each covered in the Teslay company logo. Before anyone could recover from this excitement, cartwheeling women in cheerleading outfits, each blonde more perkier than the last, jumping and flipping as a video-screen dropped down behind them, playing a video with accompanied narration.
“The world was once at peace.” Flowing and swaying palm trees basked under the sun before storm clouds covered them, running ladies in bikinis stopping to look up, glasses lifted and sunhats gripped. “But that all changed when ‘they’ came.” Suddenly there was a shake of the camera, a thunderous boom coming at a steady pace. A three-toed foot with greyish-brown scales smashed down, the sole of this beast nearly the size of a bus as those nice palm trees were no more. The camera rolled up the fifty meter form to reveal the hourglass figure and swishing tail of a beast half-reptillian and half shark There were screams but also camera flashes as she was more known for her common name, Escualota, and those big round, baseball-field-sized tits she liked to tan on Miami beaches. She was idly rubbing her relatively petite dark cock-shaft, only 180 inches as it dribbled to the asphalt.
It muttered on the screen, voice booming to the people below. “Hmm, time to get my tan on.” There was a gasp from the watching crowd, horrified at the potential destruction a mere tanning from these beasts could cause, a casual tail flick flipping an entire hamburger restaurant on its roof.
“The monsters, or ‘Mons’ as they were later coined after long hours of work by our marketing-department, came from the sea and the ground, their bodies of a colossal size and mass which gave humanity its greatest challenge since climate change.” The video changed from Escualota’s bum squishing the filming cameraman to the post-destructive wake these creatures created. “These were not the monsters of cinema though. Those mere men in rubber suits acted out simplistic destructive fears of nuclear war but these creatures are more complicated.” A picture of the Empire State Building with a hole in a third of the way up. “They were smarter, more complicated, and most of all…” The next picture showed huge breast imprints in the side of the Burj Khalifa. “They are really…” a sex-dripping Tower of Pisa discarded in a field, “…really…” the Eiffel Tower bent and dripping in white globs, “really…” the middle hole of the Pentagon was filled to the brim with thick white cream, “horny.”
The next slide showed helicopter footage of the Mon known as Bella Aligata, a muscular, brown-skinned, bipedal female reptile who expectedly had breasts and a dripping soaked pussy was strolling down Times Square. “Mmm…” It twisting its faintly pink nipples, forked tongue rattling out from her reptilian face. “I’m so aroused… Isn’t there a stud who can handle this?”
A brave New Yorker, obviously disgusted by the destruction or aroused by who was doing it, put up his hand. “Yo, if I can handle that babe at Vinnie’s wedding? I can handle this dino-chick no pro-”
He was crunched by her bus-sized slit instantly, her hips rubbing across the asphalt and soaking up the major tourist spot in a way certainly not recommended by the NYC tourism-board. “Oh yes! Take me you tiny humans!” She ran her rather delicate fingers tipped with claws over her slightly slimy bald head. “I want it hard and rough!”
“Despite our attempts to give into their demands.” A video of Bella Aligata outside Manhattan was quickly shown, shovelling a silo of corn into her mouth as the world largest sex doll was lowered in by the military. She quickly popped it with her claw and went back to eating. “They wanted the real thing. So we gave them all we had.” A launched nuclear missile flew right near the giant lizards face, but when she lit up, it was with a smile not with a mushroom cloud. Radiation must have been like lubricant because she was loving the glow her vagina developed as she brought herself to a gushy orgasm which flooded five fields which ruined the crop harvests.
“They may have claimed that they were only here for ‘a good time’, but these creatures are now giving human-kind its greatest challenge. We are in dark times without leadership.” There was a building orchestra sound as the lighting crew started to circle their spot lights all over the stage. “Thankfully, we haven’t to wait much longer.” The voice rose from its sombre delivery to get the people standing and clapping. “Ladies and Gentlemen, totally non-biased journalists, and supermodels which we placed in the front row, please, put your hands together for the ubermensch of our time, inventor extraordinaire, the hero who saved the world from climate change.” The drumming built to a near deafening climax.
“Erod Fusck!”
There was a burst of confetti upon the crowd as a short figure rose from the stage, black sports-coat over a black shirt, but most eyes were pulled to the purple heavy metal boots he was clanking around. There was a standing ovation for the man who blew kisses back as he gripped upon the lectern and gave a smirk, winking at the hot ladies who happened to be sitting right in front to throw roses to the stage.
“Alright, alright, enough of your admiration, okay?” He chuckled as he gripped the mic. “Some guys might not admit it, but I can only get my dick sucked so much in one hour, right?” The clapping died down and he cleared his throat. “As the video, which my team created under my impeccable leadership, wonderfully stated, the world is in crisis.” He pointed a clicker at the screen behind him which showed a grey Mon with eight limbs shoving its prehensile cock through the London Eye. “Our weapons don’t do shit and these beasts seem intent on eating and fucking until there’s nothing left, right?” He clicked again and a humanoid fox with big breasts was bent over, big fluffy tail in the air using the Washington Monument as a buttplug as it stuck its slight snout into a supermarket to chow down. “As expected, the government tried but failed to contain this threat to keep us safe, and thus they came to Teslay for solutions like they did with climate change, okay?”
He clicked his button and a yellow with two black tubes sticking at either end rotated on screen. “As you can see, our Model-F is, like, the best in the business at saving the planet, right?” He got a laser pointer. “This thing sucks up all the bad pollution, the yellow part processes it, and then exudes a nice, clean glowing green sludge which we safely store in large drum barrels.” The spitting Model-F had glowing green stuff which actually smiled and winked in the animation. “So, naturally the government came to me for the solution for this problem too.”
”Mr. Fusck!” A redhead with a lanyard stood up from the front row, pointing a pen. “Los Angeles Times with a question.”
He sighed with an eyeroll. “I thought you were with the supermodels. Why do journalists always sneak in with hot babes? Is it really that easy?”
”Yes.” She hefted her full breasts spilling out of her jacket. “Now, my question. If I could ask about your Model-F… What about the allegation that the proven mutagen isn’t being taken care of properly. Can you assure us that you’re taking this seriously?”
”Ugh…” He shrugged. “How many time do I have to you pesky journalists that the super-happy sludge is totally fine.” He pointed up. “Plus, the way we dispose of the toxi- er, I mean, joyful substance is by launching into space with one of my rockets, yeah? That way, we can let Fusck Jr. handle it when we’ve got less important things to focus on.”
”And where is Fusck Jr. may I ask?” Another reporter stood up from the front row supermodels, this one an especially leggy blonde. “You’ve been stating the desire to sire a son for a while now.”
His face grew a red and he cleared his throat. “The reason for a lack of children is totally legitimate. It has nothing to do with me. I cannot stress that enough. In fact, things might be working down there too well, you know?” He patted down between his legs. “Like too large for any boringly normal lady, right?”
“Mmmhmm…” The blonde sucked on the edge of her pen with a smirk. “But, surely now your wife-”
”Ah shut up. I’m the alpha here and this is my news conference.” He clicked behind him to continue the presentation. “Anyways, for the real journalists in the room, let’s talk about the future of Teslay.” He waved his hands and over the pillars around him with the company logo, new little banners sprung down displaying their latest project, the Solar-Dame. “As you know, my lovely wife Pauline volunteered for our project to save the planet, the sexy former model wanting to do her part.” He clicked to the next picture and an image of his wife back when she was a model was on the screen. A curvy brunette rolling up her top to tease the edge of her nipple as she bounced in tight jeans-booty shorts. “Isn’t she hot? I get to bang that every night, sometimes, like, five times!”
A commercial started playing behind him, one which had already been on TV and around the internet an infinite around of time. Girls were on the beach, playing volleyball in the most giggly, unserious way which caused their own breasts to nearly pop from their overly-tiny tops. Suddenly there was a giant dark shadow over them, but instead of screaming, they just smiled. A pedicured foot slammed down on one side of the court, the fifty-meter woman with a sun-kissed tan of Southern California stretched her hands over her head, blocking out the sun to jiggle her bikini advertising ‘TES’ on one cup and ‘LAY’ on the other. She herself giggled, a booming sound at that height. “Hey, can I play?” There was a cut to the logo, a deliberately phallic rocket giving a sexy whisper about how Teslay was the future.
“Brilliant.” Fusck said of his own work and clapped to start the rest of the hall clapping. “But you know the commercials, but what about the results?”
He clicked again, this time a golden gorilla-like beast of pure muscles had raised from the San Francisco bay, flopping its giant, pulsing, veiny cock onto the Golden Gate Bridge and causing a few of the supportive cords to snap. The second it looked about to thrust the bridge into historical oblivion, Pauline raised out of the water, flipping her hair behind her in a most arousing way. She cupped beneath her chest and cooed with puckered lips, glowing green eyes sparkling beneath the sun. “Hey there, big boy. Can’t I interest you in something else to break in?” She turned around and stuck her rear out, showing off her flossing bikini bottom before she spanked it, causing the biggest quake the California had seen in a while.
The yellow creature gave a grunt and stuck its pink tongue out. “Yeah! Damn, your ass is the best, Pauline! That’s why I always come back!” He pulled his cock back from the bridge and flexed those insanely thick biceps. “Where to, babe?”
”Anywhere there aren’t people.” She plainly stated before giving a thumbs up to the camera in the helicopter following her, smile as unreal as the sizes they’d reached. “That’s the safe way.”
Literally the next video had her face buried into a mountain, rump high in the air as this gorilla pounded his gorged banana into her. He grunted and drooled, hands tight on her hips. Despite them being a more even sized pairs, he was still quite a bit larger than her, and she was screaming about big cock loud enough for the Atlantic to surely hear.
Just before the money shot, there was a rough cut which had Pauline with a cum-coated backside, looking as if a banana cream pie fell upon her back. A helicopter with the Teslay logo swooped by with probably the largest granola bar ever made, the wrapping as well carrying the red logo. The Mon grabbed it and swallowed it in two quick bites, rubbing its stomach. Pauline slowly turned her head, ass still wide in the air, voice shaky and weak. “A-And you won’t continue into America, right?”
”Sure.” He shrugged standing up and stretching, big arms blotting out the sun. “At least for a week when I want to get this nice ass again.” Those big ape arms came down and smashed her tush, making it jiggle and a grunt came from her lips. “I guess I’ll go relax down in that land of tequila and beaches. You people call it Mexico, right?” He gave a triumphant roar and started lumbering off to the ocean.
“See?” Erod pulled a piece of gum from his pocket and smacked it loudly. “That’s how we saved San Francisco. Ingenious solution. And let me tell you, if the government keeps sending us those nice big checks with all the zeros, we’ll keep protecting the nicest cities in America.”
”Leona Lopez, New York Times.” The silk skin Latina with an impressive amount of cushion packed in her grey mini skirt lifted her pen out.
“Jesus.” Fusck rubbed his forehead. “Are all you broads reporters?”
The impressively attractive women looked at each other before nodding. Leona continued. “It’s really the easiest way to get actual press in here…” She cleared her throat. “Mr. Fusck. You state on your website, press-releases and even now that you’ve solved the problem with Mon coming to eat and copulate near and on our cities. However, some of your critics have raised the point that you’re not actually solving anything, but merely placating these monsters, giving them what they want so they don’t bother the cities as often. Are you saying that you aren’t kicking the can down the road until someone actually solves the problem?”
”What craziness.” He waved his hand. “Total fake-news, what a load.” He started to tap his lectern with his finger. “We aren’t doing that at all. It’s so damn obvious, yeah?” He segmented his hand gestures. “What we are doing are creating mini-solutions which will slowly build until we reach a great climatic solution. It’s much more dramatic and our style. I could create a super solution right now if I wanted, but I won’t.” He scratched his nose and looked up. “I mean, but that would go against our mission statement and stuff.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, any questions from a reporter actually invited to this event?”
“Donald Mason. Teslay Newletter.” A eager young college boy waved his hands. “Mr. Fusck, let me just first say I’m a big fan! But second, we all know here that you love your country…”
”Oh yeah, I love South Africa.”
”You mean…” He cleared his throat. “America, right?”
”Whatever. As long as they speak English and the women are hot.” He started to pick his nails. “Oh and there’s freedom for me or something…”
”Anyways.” He scratched his head with his pen. “Besides the domestic competition between Teslay and, let’s say, Amazonian, how is Teslay keeping ‘The Solar Dame’ competitive in the global market? For example, the Chinese have quite the attractive defence mechanism set up by the name of Zhengying Gongzi who is quite popular on social media, maybe even more than you..”
“Look.” He slammed his fist down. “Whatever those crazy communists come up with, we’ll beat them down twice as fast with good hard Western Capitalism.” He waved his thick wallet around before stuffing it back into his pocket. “So it doesn’t matter if this ‘Ching-Gong’ can grow 100 feet, she-”
”Actually she’s been shown to grow to 300 meters, and can shrink back small enough to fit in a room like a regular person.”
“Bah, propaganda!” His wrist continued to wiggle. “We’ve been working with the next update to The Solar Dame and she too will be able to change sizes!” He motioned balloons on his chest. “Starting with the tits naturally. Some of those Mons like them big!”
”What about the Japanese?” Donald tilted his head. “They developed a lot of hype with their walking robots.”
”Robots? Bah-Bah!” He doubled his scoff. “Those anime-freaks don’t understand the first thing about giant monsters or robots. Let me tell you, Mons don’t want to have sex with stupid gundams or whatever. They want curves, not tiny little Japs.” He smirked. “Probably why none of their cities have been attacked yet!”
“Isn’t that the point of these defence systems?”
“Small details…” His fingers swept the air. “Any other silly countries trying to compete?”
”Yes many, but are you worried about Russian influence? The country has furiously denied working on any projects to fight Mons, but they’ve been known to have desires, perhaps stealing American ideas for their own system.”
”If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a billion times.” He took a deep breath. “I influenced the election much more than those Russians did and yet no one is giving me credit.” He rubbed his hair. “Sure, maybe I influenced in the opposite way I intended, but all I hear is ‘Russia this’, ‘Russia that’. Where’s the committee to talk about my influence on democracy? I pay a lot for this!” There was a fury of arm raises from that statement but he was already off on another issue. “Anyways, enough questions, it’s time for the best part, meeting my wife!”
He walked over to a large hanging yellow curtains, the ceiling overhead just large enough to host a Mon-sized person, a pair of giant pink heels clearly seen beneath. “Now, nobody rush to stage to meet my hot and super tall wife. She’s mine and might squish a tiny stranger she doesn’t know! Plus, if you want to ask her any Mon-related question, she’d be the one to ask!”
The lights concentrated upon the curtain, circles waving around as a new drum beat built up the anticipation. After a couple of seconds of excited bated breath, the curtains opened wide and suddenly exposing the contents behind.
An empty pair of heels.
“Ah, close the curtains!!” Fusck cried out waving his arms. “Close the fucking thing!” He rushed over to the microphone on the lectern and started stammering over the murmuring crowd. “O-Oh that’s right, I sent out Pauline to buy some butter from the store, a-a-and to turn off the stove in the kitchen! I-I’m her husband after all and she needs to listen to me even if she is super tall.” He cleared his throat. “A-Anyways, have I showed you my new rocket boots?” He pointed to his weird purple boots. “They’re really cool!”
“Can we see them in action?”
”No. We need a new separate conference for that.” He shook his head. “Enough of the questions, there’s a gala set up outside with free food and staff to answer any of your questions.”
”What about the women knocked up by the copious amount Mon semen drenched on so many buildings?”
“Bah-bah-bah. Free food!” He pulled out his phone from his pocket as people started getting up at the phrase free food, loud profanities easily picked up by his microphone. “Where the fuck is she!?!?!?”
Fri Jul 27 12:47:26 2018
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3 comments Last updated: Sat Jul 28 01:28:01 2018