The conclusion to the Brod: Elasticity miniseries! It’s a lot of fun if I say so myself. And wow, this story ended up being immense. Not only is it the biggest Brod (how appropriate) but it’s the biggest story I’ve written for you so far. 12,312 words. I know that quantity is not quality, but let me tell you, this is a fun ride.
If you read Brod: Breeding Osaka, you know roughly what to expect. If you haven’t, expect a good old-fashioned Brod chainbang, mass breeding, interracial, hyper cock/balls, size increases, cum inflation, all that good Brod stuff you love.
In this story, Brod heads to breed girls in Germany. I know I have German fans, so if I fucked something up, please correct me.
Go forth and fap!
As it turned out, the next step had to wait until one of the breeding runs. I will spare you most of the details, because they really aren’t very sexy.
For almost a week leading up to this, not only was I off my fertility suppressors, but I also had to receive a battery of injections from Nahid. Not just to the arm. Some of them went into my taint, and a couple went into my sack—though fortunately, my nuts never got injected themselves. I suppose this might be horrifying if you fear needles, but they really didn’t hurt as much as you might think. Plus, Nahid was usually able to make me feel better after.
I did notice a change, though. I was beginning to feel a bit strange. An occasional buzzing rose in my nuts. A pressure in my cock. But otherwise, everything seemed pretty much the same.
I didn’t know it, but things were going to get weird during this breeding run.
Schloof. The door to the bedroom slid open, and the flight attendant strode in. Behind her, I could hear Thalita snoring on the sofa. Nahid was visible on her computer, wearing headphones. Valeska was watching a nature documentary.
Like the bedroom, the main cabin of the ACJ319 was mainly purples, charcoals, and blacks. It matched the purple-and-black two-tone paint job on the exterior. I’d also had LED mood lighting installed in the recesses, though for the moment, we had plenty of daylight.
The flight attendant bit her lower lip when she saw the scene.
Sunlight poured in from the windows on either side of the fuselage, illuminating me and nine women. Two were sitting on either side of me, propped up against the headboard as I was. A formerly-slender blonde white girl laid against my right side, her sister on my left. Their bellies were so enormously bloated that they engulfed their thighs and spilled to the sides. Jizz was gushing from under those bellies, rolling in gloppy waves off the bed and onto the floor. The drainage system I’d had installed slurped loudly, sucking the jizz into the plane’s storage tanks.
Lying at my feet on the bed were two more, groaning, rubbing their bellies as their cunts gaped open wide enough for the stewardess to stick both arms into. Sperm gushed over the bed like a waterfall. A Colombian girl was lying on the bed underneath them, letting the goopy, steaming-hot jizz pour over her face and legs. A Taiwanese girl was groaning in one of the armchairs, her belly spilling over each arm.
Wrapped around my cock was a black girl, her thick thighs on either side of me. I groaned as I put my hand on her belly. SPLOOORCH. SPLOOORCH. SPLOOOORCH! I closed my eyes. I could feel my giant balls squeezing against her ass. I could feel gallons of jizz rocketing through my cock. Even though I knew she was on contraceptives, firing live rounds felt incredible. My unshackled sperm careened with incredible vigor through my nuts and organ, filling her up, making her chocolatey belly balloon higher and higher by the second. Her cunt quivered in orgasm, and her head rolled to the side, her eyelids fluttering.
The last two girls were another Latina (she hadn’t mentioned an ethnicity) and a chubby girl of indeterminate race with voluminous hair. They were completely nude, their plump asses and thighs displayed, covered in sperm as my chest was. They used their hands to rub their tits over the black girl’s growing belly, cooing and marveling at its swelling.
SPLLUURT. SPLUUUURT. I kept pumping gallon after gallon of spunk.
The stewardess gulped and straightened her dress. I could see her stockings darkening. She wore the purple-and-black uniform of the rest of the crew—conservative and professional. I had other girls for fucking and acting sexy—the crew was there to take care of us. Granted, when I’m off the suppressors, pretty much anything even vaguely feminine looks really good to me. Consequently, the moment I laid eyes upon her, I felt the immediate need to impregnate her.
“Oh my god … I thought they were exaggerating,” she moaned, her free hand rubbing down between her thighs.
“About … hngh! What?” I grunted. BLOORT. BLOOOOOORT!
“I didn’t think you could fuck nine women in such a short flight! My god!” she shook her head and held up a glass. “Here’s your drink! Oh wow…”
GLUUUUURCH! esenyurt escort
I nodded to the nightstand to my left, and she set the glass down. Her heels squished through spunk. I think some even got into them. As she moved to the door, I spoke up. “Send Nahid in, please?”
Minutes later, I felt the last dregs of my load flow into her. The two unfilled ladies each seized an arm of the one mounted on my cock, and the grunted, pulling her off my monstrous organ. SCHLOOOOORPH. Her cunt sucked at my organ, refusing to let go. Even with the loosening lube, it was a tight fit.
Something was weird this time around, though. Pop! My massive glans came free. There was no more room on the bed … the three bloated girls at the base took up the entire foot, and the two remaining girls descended upon my cock, moaning as they wrapped their arms around it, desperately slurping up its thick blanket of sperm.
Schloof! The door slid open, and in jiggled Nahid. She took her reading glasses off and sighed. “So you can’t even go a couple hours without ravaging a dozen cunts, huh? My god, you’re like an animal,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
I rolled my eyes right back. “First of all, it’s like a ten-plus hour flight that you’re asking me to go without sex.”
Nahid raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Shouldn’t you pace yourself, then? Fuck one every hour, maybe?”
I squinted at her. “I— Look, they were all right there in front of me. How am I supposed to ignore nine gorgeous, horny women! I can’t even do that when I’m not fertile, and you know that. Anyway, let’s get back on task. I feel weird.”
Nahid sat in the empty armchair and crossed her legs. Her massive tits wobbled with every movement. “What do you mean?” she asked.
I recounted the weird feeling in my cock and balls. “When I shot my load, I felt … it was like, heat? Just, pumping through my cock, like the veins were full of fire … but in a good way. And like, there was air in my head. I mean, not exactly.” I shook my head and considered how to explain. “It was like someone was pumping too much blood into it. And in my balls, it felt weird. Like my sperm were going nuts and like the skin was tighter than usual.”
“That’s interesting. Do go on,” said Nahid, unlocking her tablet.
“Well, the more I pumped sperm, the more the heat and pressure increased, like I was … I don’t know, like I was fucking a lightning goddess. It was like, tingling, but good.” I sighed. “So tell me again how this is supposed to work. Is this the feeling of your treatment going on?”
Nahid nodded. “Yes, I believe so.” She stood and opened the door. “Yara!” she hollered.
A moment later, Yara came in and paused to surveil the scene. She closed the door behind her. At no point did the two girls licking and stroking my cock stop. I put one hand on each ass, squeezing and kneading the cheeks.
“You called?” asked Yara.
I repeated what I told Nahid, and reiterated my question. “Does this mean the treatment is working?”
Yara nodded. “Like we told you. Without the fertility suppressors, your hormonal balance has changed. Everything has. Hormones, enzymes. Even pheromones. Your body’s function is altered, and to put it in layman’s terms, we need to take advantage of your hormonal fluctuations and altered homeostatic state in order to cement the changes.”
“You know what homeostasis is, right?” asked Nahid. “Or were you too busy railing your biology teacher?”
“He was a very hairy man that was like angry Mario Batali, so no,” I replied. “But I know what you’re talking about.”
“Good. Your homeostasis is different on and off the supplements,” explained Nahid. As she gestured, her bangles sparkled.
The girls slurped and sucked, scooping mouthfuls of jizz. The darker one moaned as she let a double-handful of precum gather in her hands. Then she began to slather it all over herself, panting. “It’s so hot!” she moaned.
Yara nodded. “Indeed, and you have enzymes that are produced when you’re in a fertile state that we need to take advantage of. Certain hormones and these enzymes increase when you’re in the presence of a woman, and they increase when you have sex.” She used her hand to make a ramping motion. “They spike when you inseminate a female. And while you’re spiking, the alterations are able to really take hold.”
I nodded. They hadn’t mentioned the virus—likely to avoid upsetting any of the women present. It wasn’t contagious and it wouldn’t work on anyone but me, but people were illogical about that sort of thing. “So that weird feeling is the feeling of my junk being altered.”
“Exactly!” said Nahid, clapping. “See, it’s not so hard if you pay attention!”
I nodded, looking down at my cock. It was now shiny and clean. “Either of you want a turn?”
Nahid looked at her watch. “Oh, hell, why not?”
Yara shook her head. “Why don’t you fuck Valeska? It’ll help distract her.”
“Is she upset?” I asked.
Yara nodded. “You know her. She’s zeytinburnu escort never happy on planes.”
“Oh, that’s a load of shit, how many flights has she been on?” asked Nahid.
“Not enough,” said Yara. “Considering the first time, though, she’s made a lot of progress. Still, I think your cock would help calm her.”
“Alright, send her in.”
Hours later, I’d fucked all of the girls once more and we had landed.
Two nicely-outfitted Mercedes S-Classes took me and my entourage to the Jouissance Hotel and Resort: Berlin.
We merged onto Bundesautobahn A113. I looked out over the fields as we passed. There were clear panels walling the road off—something I didn’t see often at home. They gave way to concrete noise barriers, and we were soon driving down a hard trench.
About forty minutes later, we pulled in at the hotel. My party got a fair amount of stares as we walked. The seven-foot Amazons, my gigantic, slapping package, Nahid and Mariam’s monstrous tits. I doubt anyone even noticed Yara.
European breeding runs are always interesting. It’s not like the US where it’s all one big country. And it’s not like Japan where it’s an island. People have a much easier time crossing national borders in Europe, and Berlin’s fairly central. Thus, I always ended up with a vast assortment of women. I’d be fucking Germans, Czechs, French, Italian, Spanish. I believe there were even women coming from Nahid’s native Turkey.
I didn’t realize that this wouldn’t be the most interesting part of the trip, though. I’m not sure if you’ve read Breeding Osaka, which I’ve mentioned several times by now. But that story pretty much described my next week, albeit in a different place with different women. I was pumping jizz into womb after womb, fucking constantly. Hundreds of women were stretched out by my cock. I didn’t even wear pants—my room was near the spa area we’d commandeered to do the breeding in.
It was at the beginning of the second week that I realized something was wrong.
In retrospect, it was obvious. When I was getting ready in the morning, I slipped into my soft, purple bathrobe. The custom sleeves accommodated my stout arms comfortably and let me flex them without straining the fabric. I pulled the halves over my broad, powerful chest. Unlike the last robe, this one had special sections in the front that could be closed over my cock and balls. And it was when closing these sections that I noticed I was having trouble doing so.
Have you ever had a small problem which you perceived only subconsciously and then suddenly became conscious of? Say you had a stain on one of your shoes. You might notice it in the back of your mind, but it’s only when your friend says something about it that it comes to the forefront.
It was only when I tried to close the extended sections over my cock and nuts that I realized something was awry. I pulled the cloth over it. The plush terry slipped away, exposing my heavy endowment. I pulled it closed again. Again, the cloth slipped over my cock and nuts. I sighed. The third time, I finally got my robe to close and tied it off.
When I began walking to the spa room, my balls slapped against my shins … hitting them unusually low. But again, I didn’t really consciously register it. I should have, because thinking back to my walk, I remember having to shift my weight at a slightly different angle to balance out the sheer mass of my swinging cock and heavy nuts.
I got into position and stood in the middle of the breeding area—the aforementioned spa. I put my hands on the back of my custom chair, brought with us from the US. The chair wasn’t very fancy-looking, but it was exceptionally sturdy and quite comfortable. I squared my shoulders and took a look around the area.
Like the hotel in Osaka, there was a circular, recessed area which sloped down to a drain. It was about two feet deep or so—or about sixty-one centimeters given that I was in Europe. Under normal circumstances, this area would have had a bunch of spa tables and some bathtubs in it. But all of that had been removed. Instead, there was a bed behind me. No sheets or blankets—we wouldn’t be needing anything like that.
What the bed did have was a feature shared by the concentric circles of chaises surrounding the recess—a cloth-like fluid-proof covering. Because, as much money as I had, I prefer not spending it on unnecessary things like buying brand new furniture for the rental company.
Unlike the Jouissance in Osaka, the design in this spa room was mostly light grey stone. The plants were different than in Japan, but I’m no botanist so I don’t know what they were. I just knew that they had red flowers. Columns rose up around me, cool tiles were under my feet. Behind me, a wall of glass looked out over the River Spree.
I turned my eyes to the wooden doors, waiting for my clients. A few minutes later, they opened. Right on schedule.
The first people to come into the room were the interpreter and my staff. taksim escort bayan Valeska gave me a strange look which I couldn’t place. What I found out later was that Valeska had given me that weird look because she noticed that she could see the curvature of my testicles from the other side of the chair—much more than normal. I was, of course, happily ignorant.
Fortunately, our need for interpreters is mitigated by the women whose intelligence I am fortunate enough to employ. Valeska speaks fluent German and Swedish, Nahid speaks Turkish and a fair amount of Arabic, Thalita speaks Portuguese, and Yara speaks Spanish. We found another interpreter fluent in Italian, French, and Greek. Her eyes were bugging out of her head as if she were on an alien planet.
The women were chattering amongst each other, pointing, many of them holding their hands wide apart as they tried to see my crotch. I smiled as all sixty came closer.
I had no suppressors. As the moment drew closer and closer, I could feel the pressure in my balls going up and up. I could feel my sperm gurgling and churning. But something felt different this time. When the women began coming in, I felt a pang in my balls upon seeing each one. That was normal. What felt abnormal was the pressure in my sack, the weight against my thighs.
I smiled at a cute redhead with big tits. My nuts gurgled. I looked at a woman with creamy-white skin and raven-black hair. My sperm surged. I ran my eyes over an olive-skinned beauty with a curly mane, and again, my balls squeezed and grumbled. Warmth rolled through my cock and gut. I suppressed a growling noise and gripped the back of my chair tighter. I could smell them. The scent of dozens of warm, nubile women, each one with a ripe womb waiting to hold my babies.
I felt like a cartoon character. You know how in old cartoons an old lady would put a pie on the windowsill? And the scent was visible as a cloud of vapor that would lift a dog or a hobo or someone into the air and carry them toward it? That’s how I felt right then. When I’m not on suppression supplements, I have to work very hard to contain myself.
Normal men don’t know what it’s like being this horny. Normal men have sex what, a couple times a day? And that’s well and good for them. For me, sex is more akin to air. Even suppressed, my libido is so strong that I can easily plow through a sorority house if given a whole day. Now? Now each woman’s pussy was calling to me, trying to haul me forward by my gurgling, sloshing nuts. I very nearly grabbed the Italian interpreter. She had a nice bubble butt under her professional pencil skirt. And she had a womb that was severely lacking in Brod-sperm. She gave me a smile.
I smiled back and leaned toward her. I said, “Are you ready? You’ve been briefed?”
She nodded. “Indeed. Good to meet you, Mr. Kanayama.” She offered me her hand.
I shook it. “And yourself, Ms. Bianchi.”
“I, ah. Excuse me for saying this, but, this has to be the strangest event I’ve ever worked at. And I’ve spoken to interpreters you’ve used in the past.”
I chuckled, putting my hand on her shoulder. I could feel the padding in the shoulder of her jacket. It would be so easy. I could pick her up, throw her over the bed, hike up that skirt, and jam my cock into her. The bulk would split her shirt open as her belly stretched, but she’d cum her head off!
However, grabbing the interpreter and railing her before saying hello would have been rude.
“There’s nothing like this,” I told her, chuckling. “You can stay if you want, but it’s going to get very messy. No one but me and my crew are ever prepared for these things.”
She tittered nervously. “I can imagine. I still can’t believe you’re running a legal orgy.”
“Not an orgy. A fertility seminar! Emphasis on the ‘semen.’ ” I grinned wryly.
She chuckled. “Pfft! Ah. I suppose that I am as ready as I can be.”
I nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. Shall we?”
I raised my voice and began my speech. “Good morning, ladies! I’m glad that you could all make it.” My eyes scanned the room. I looked from woman to woman, making eye contact as I spoke. “My name is Brod Kanayama, fertility specialist.” There was a chuckle when this got translated. I continued. “I’m honored that each of you has chosen me to help you build a family. I know that you have many options. But as you’ve read, as you’ve been told, I’m the only one that can make a guarantee. By the time you leave this hotel, all sixty of you will be pregnant.” I pointed my finger at different women in the crowd. “You, you, you, yes you. All of you will be mothers once I’m done today!”
A redhead spoke up. Her diction was a sort of staccato, and she kept pronouncing W as V. “Yes, hello! What if we do not become pregnant?”
I was a bit surprised that she was asking, because the policy was right there on my website, and I know for a fact that my employees talk about it when signing women up. “As it says on the website, there’s a money-back guarantee and you’re entitled to more treatments. For free. But as it stands, I have never failed. If I somehow do fail to get you pregnant, I will literally come to your house and hand you 9,000 euros … or whatever the exchange rate is.” If Mariam was here, she could do the math in a blink.