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The wash of air acted as a precursor to the end of a world. A soft whump and the pop of air pressure as though a door had opened from one world to another. Perhaps it had.

Then came the gale. A rush that coiled through narrow streets, lifting litter and dust and casting it wildly spinning. It sent people cursing and staggering while the grit got in their eyes and throats, leaving them coughing until the breeze died and the wild detritus of their lives lay still once more.

In those streets, they were still unaware of any change in their world. Screened as they were by towering spires. Still safe in their bubbles, concerned with work, families, how they'd pay their rent, the little arseholes running their little country. The price of coffee maybe.

The outskirts and lofty rooms told a different story entirely. There, they were the first to behold?

Well, there ought to have been bright lights or fires. A great portal opening in the sky while coruscating lightning seared across the clouds.


Low, scratchy clouds had been swept aside to mark the gently curving expanse of midnight blue. A great vertical moving landscape of folds and valleys that rose and dimmed the vista beneath. It roared, dragging with it a slipstream of homes and forests ripped cruelly from the earth. A dull shine ran around the lip of what was, unmistakably, a shoe. A shoe stretching miles from toe to heel. A shoe that parted the air, made it scream in protest at forces beyond anything it should ever feel and..


Fifty miles from the impact the sound was merely deafening. The force of the tread smashing through windows, tossing cars and people aside. Monumental cracks flurrying up walls while showers of white plaster clouded rooms with a dry mist.

Closer to Ground Zero.. and the earth was ripped apart. Livelihoods swallowed by painful chasms and a world that convulsed in agony. Towns, fields and villages lost even before the tsunami of shrapnel reached them as a tempestuous blindness.

The twist of the foot, while immense weight shifted against it, churned up a dead landscape into newborn mountain ranges crested beneath the rim of a black shoe. But there was no need naming these newborn peaks, for the next time it moved, they avalanched to nothing once more.

Those that lived had enough time to scrabble from the ground to turn bloodied, dusted faces skywards.. and be thrown flat by the second impact. The partner of the first sole stepped over an invisible threshold and brought fresh death into the world of specks laid before it.

For a while, the earth threw back echoes of the impact. Structures disintegrated and intense tornadoes of filth whipped their way through deadly streets. Their nations rolled and pitched, dragging their miniscule inhabitants into their graves.

Finally, the last clattering debris fell, the sounds faded. And there was nothing but a prophetic, ringing silence giving the fleas of the world a chance to take in this lethal intrusion.

And now they knew they truly were less than fleas.


He stood, his expression made unfathomable by size and distance: a beyond monolithic figure of a man. A towering, living landscape. Clad in a midnight blue suit, he could have stepped out of a board meeting. Straight into a world of people so small that tens of thousands lay mulched and unrecognisable beneath those shoes. They were barely even dusted by all that carnage. Towns and cities lay prone in his shadow. Millions upon millions of miniscule lives swallowed up by his darkness, their hearts pounding, screaming with a wild animal fear that made throats bleed.. waiting for him to make his next move.

The giant however, seemed to be in no rush. Rather, he appeared to be pondering something. Not the worry of one who had devastated countless lives with his body, no. It was one who was musing on how exactly to solve a mildly irksome problem. Thinking. Making them wait for him to decide the fate of a world.

The thoughtful demeanour faded away to be replaced with a slowly growing smile. Features the size of towns arranging themselves into an expression of casual cruelty.

The world ceased. Every debate and war. Every crisis. It all stopped while billions held their breath and awaited his move. And he did. This time, though, the giant didn't step, but dragged his foot sideways across the landscape.

It was catastrophic. Those motes who chanced to outlive the shock of his arrival were obliterated into a mist of blood and grit and powdered cities that churned into the air. The heel of that shoe cleaved through it all, battering down hills, sweeping aside mountains. Towns erased in an instant as he carved an arc of landscape down to the bedrock. The detritus of it bled across miles. Submerging towns beyond his gesture in a cataclysmic rain of earth torn meteors. The air shorn away and filled with a suffocating deluge of dirt fouling the skies.

The giant waited for the dust to settle, seemingly amused at how easily his body pulverised this patch of civilisation. Perhaps it had been a test. To see if it were to his liking. And, unfortunately for this world of motes, it appeared that it was.

He drew the tip of one boot across to the heel of the other shoe, and a nation crunched horribly beneath him as he prised it off. Pulling his foot free of the gleaming leather and leaving that shoe where he abandoned it. A mighty monolith that overshadowed them all.

He lifted his freed foot away, far above the cloud level, to tug at his sock. It ought to have been comical, mundane. This planetary figure yanking at course woven socks while he towered over a world. But the specks who quivered at his every motion felt only fear.

It meant he was here to stay.

The obstinate, patchy cover of clouds hid some of his actions. And so it was that the specks had no time to brace for the impact of a carelessly discarded sock. It should have draped lightly down, folded in on itself where it landed. But nothing the titan owned could ever be so gentle on the motes. The weight of them demolished so much the world below, covering miles of scenery in rough folds of dark fabric clogged with debris. The fibres entangled with the sediment of civilisation.

And now he stepped down with bare toes. He felt them perish proper against his vallied skin. The landscape fracturing like a soft shell, buckling down into the magma below. His unseen face bearing a smile at all the death at his tread, the scars he'd left across the earth and the fine cracks that ruptured over it at his lightest touch.

He kicked off the other shoe, and it smashed down, hacking uncaringly through hollow towns and raising apocalyptic billowings of filth as it came to rest. The second sock soon followed: a second thump, a second round of thunderous deaths and reverberating tremors.

He left them there, carelessly discarded like litter, and walked. He strode lazily across miles, decimating everything in his path. For him it was like a stroll across some beach or another. Simply enjoying the warmth of the sun and the crisp breeze at the altitudes his body plunged through. A silent, almost serene task. Clouds cladding his body like some angelic scene.

But for them, it was hell. Once massive skyscrapers disintegrated to be crushed to carbon. Thousands upon thousands perished and howled beneath his care or notice. The ground buckled, groaning and snapping out with chasms that housed riven towns. Bits of the landscape tacking to his sole, so when it thundered overhead, dragging along a stream of wind, he peppered the land beneath with pebbles the size of mountains. A whole country ripping itself apart while he ambled casually across a nation.

The world, of course, was in uproar. Frantic to mobilise.. evacuate.. hide. But how could they hide from a being immense enough to cross a continent in an afternoon? He could tear their world apart in a day.

The news feeds filled with glimpses of his body through grey clouds of filth. The airwaves resounding with screams and booms. Tremors shaking people far enough away to not see him cleaving the landscape. Already millions had perished. And in the coming days the thick ash and dust would blind the earth. A volcanic winter, famines.

All from an idle saunter.

Only when he came to the expanse of the ocean did he pause. Coolly regarding the grey wrinkled surface. The crumbs of vessels visible only by the trailed white threads representing their wakes. The last few quakes assailed the structures, helpless before him, that barred the massive figure from the sea, and the sunlight glittered on glass that cascaded down: the forces he created by moving, turning out to be stronger than their engineering could endure.

At this angle his expression was, again, unreadable. Way beyond those motes whose only perception of the giant were the furrowed, towering cliffs of toes rearing over a crumbled landscape. But if they could have seen, they would have caught that thoughtfulness once again crossing his features. Perhaps considering whether to cross the puddle of water spread there, or continue his chaotic date with the land.

People who had endured tumultuous booms and roars, whipping winds that stole the air from their lungs, lacerating their bodies with glass. Violent earthquakes so intense it was as though they were crumbs being shaken off a particularly dirty tablecloth. Now, now they only had the low sound of his breathing for company. A deep, steady thrumming while he slowly robbed their atmosphere of oxygen, tipping the balance of life.


One foot cast a shroud over the patchwork of miniscule scarred fields and farmsteads. The city braced, huddled, screamed up at the devastating plain of skin. Shrieked as it descended and ground down their city, burying bodies and city alike. Compressing the ground until it dipped below sea level. The furious ocean reduced to a puddle that lashed impotently at a rude preminatory of toes, and flooded the fractured structures that folded against his foot.

For the first time, the giant bothered to consider the speck-infested landscape, that cruel smile once again haunting his lips. So many wounds this blue - green bauble bore already. Scratched and dented, bleeding fire and smoke and yet resisting him none the less.

Toes curled. And that was that: A once thriving city reduced to mulch. A mash of seawater-saturated ground that rose and oozed. It bubbled where structures and train lines burst their little cavities of air and drowned.

His next act would prove he was merely being gentle.

The same foot rose, muddied with civilisation, proudly displayed as it dragged up tumbling plumes of debris and dripped it back down, catastrophically. Ships desperately fleeing the scene. By whatever miracle they had survived the rough waves and violent surges before only for the expanse of his foot to cover them all, hover, and descend.

This time it was a savage stomp into the bay. So violent that the sea splashed outwards, revealing the shattered sea bed for a moment, before his foot punched through the crust and it burst into furious fire. The shockwave tore across the earth's surface, spreading a ring of total devastation around the entire plate. Whole cities and mountain ranges were blasted to bits. Entire ancient landscapes tumbled into the sea. Millions of people eradicated as the tortured earth claimed them, rushing and burying them in the remains of their own world.

The sea gushed inwards, boiling and steaming as it struck the molten rock, tickling his toes with fog. Then rearing as an immense ripple, fleeing this man who had bested it.. It demolished miles and miles of coastline: the frothing deluge seething inland to places that had never before seen the sea. Across the ocean, in the coming hours, the water would claim more lives. Rip nations apart and churn through all in its path, carrying just a taste of his power over them.

Satisfied his message was sent, the immense being curled his toes once more through the mire. All this was little more than the act of someone paddling playfully in sea, dabbling at the shallow pools and splashing.

He grinned, great hands rose.. and he started to remove his tie, twisting it free of his shirt and casting it carelessly aside.

It slammed down. Immovable. Impassable. All the machinery of the world wouldn't be enough to shift it. But the giant had no eyes for this. His fingers were already entangled with navy buttons, sliding them free, peeling his clothes from his body. And as if the world needed any more confirmation of malicious intent, his trousers showed a clear bulge. Outlined and stiffening and proud of all this carnage. All knew how he felt about their pathetic little deaths. He liked it. Relished it.

Lusted after it.

He turned away, and the sea rushed to caress his print, swiping away the remains of a city into a brown swamp of muddied filth. A scar to mark his act until the world's end.

It might come far sooner than the motes had thought.

The giant showed the sea his back, turning away from the hellish, sodden graveyard. Messing with his clothes like it didn't matter how many lives he'd just stripped away. The jacket was pulled free and discarded, swiftly followed by the shirt. The massive articles of clothing larger than anything the motes could ever produce. Ironically they offered some protection for those beneath who braved the winds and tremors, thin fabric offering more safety than the deepest bunkers ever could. He had probably crushed many of those paltry protections already without even noticing. Pathetic.

His fingers reached for the button of his trousers, brushing his fingertips over the plain outline there, cupping that swelling outline in a way that told the motes they'd soon get their chance to greet him intimately. He smirked, before looping the belt and slowly tugging them down, kicking them aside, sending them ploughing over the landscape.

And that's when he paused. A fleet of gnats approaching, flashing lights and signals that barely registered, and yet he saw them. He regarded them dispassionately. Eyes that showed flecks of green and brown rimming the dark abyss of his pupil focused on creatures less than filings before him. Shining and fluttering in some desperate gesture of friendship.

The look he wore was not one of friendship. But, beyond that curve of mile high lips, a glimmer of tooth like a tombstone behind them, he never acknowledged them. Instead his fingers looped the elastic of his boxers and, irrelevant of his personal audience, pulled them down. His manhood revealed, swollen and solid, dwarfing them all, with his naked body on display for billions of people to behold. Except they weren't people, were they? They were mites, bacteria? toys.

The next step forward brought his thigh crashing through the entire fleet. They burst into blooms of fire and plunged down the length of his limb, fluttering along in his wake. He didn't waste time on their deaths. They were nothing to him. And his destination was at hand.

For the flitting specks of life that inhabited one of the most immense, sprawling cities of this world, specks that had staggered on a heaving earth while their buildings shook and screamed around them, it was madness. Thousands perished under masonry at his approach, pleading cries he could never hope to hear rose as an eerie sound in the grey fog that blinded them.

Before the screens went black, they had all seen from afar this monstrous being. Striding unhindered and naked across a nation. He'd brought the world to its knees. Hard to believe that thirty minutes before people had hustled to work or drove their kids to school, or ate, drank, laughed. And now..

A swelling darkness made streets grey with dust turn black. The power had gone long ago, and so no lights tried valiantly to illuminate them. Sounds instead reigned: commanding all senses. Great rolling tremors and flushes of wind blasted windows in the pitch dark while the giant being moved, sinking down astride his latest prey. A deep thronging groaning of the ground buckling beneath an immense, unseen weight. The crumbling and grinding of those distant fingers braced against the earth, curling mountains into mush. Distant glows marked his shadow. Fires and magma bursting forth beneath spayed fingers, then just as quickly twitched out again.

A long hiss.. it could have been a sigh, or an exhale of that mighty being staving off the descent of his own weight. They could feel him. Feel the heat of his body radiating down, taste the slight salty tang of his skin, the obvious musk of him. And perceive the the change in atmosphere as he heaved great breaths.

Sudden booms and flashes. Tracer fire. All of it lit the strange night, all of it didn't so much as move a hair of the godly figure who had sunk down atop their world. Their unleashed retaliatory forces ignored just as much as their offers of friendship. They didn't tickle or rouse him, they were nothing. Not even the brush of a summer breeze. And their desperate fight did nothing to deter him. His fingers plunged into a fragile landscape to bear his weight, and he arched over the grey of cities, his free hand encircling his length, angling it down towards the blinded millions?. And stroked.

The purpose of his visit was revealed at last. This was no invasion or divine justice: the titan had merely come to scratch an itch. To destroy millions beneath him for his own selfish pleasures. His body sparkled and ran with minute fire. So many futile, wretched attacks. Useless while his hand moved. Churning the clouds of dust into a sweeping tempest that tugged greedily at microbial skyscrapers, stripping away cladding and grit to suffocate the streets.

The sound of his hand moving was a deep thrum of air forced aside by something too large to exist, compressing it and heating it whole he stroked. That half smile split his face, smirking down at the sight of his manhood overshadowing miles of fields and towns. The massive city so much sparkling grey before it. Millions lived there. Millions of people whose lives had ceased to have any meaning in the shadow of him. Millions that would perish if he so much as leant forward, parted the clouds.. and thrust..

His smile widened.

Those fingers released their grip and cast long, endless towers of shadow over the world, moving across while he carefully selected a sacrifice, lazily dooming people by some unknown reckoning. Or maybe merely luck. They stopped, hung spread from horizon to horizon, his fingers waggling as though to greet the bacteria that he'd come to kill. Now they would learn that this giant indeed had use for them. Now?

The jolt of powerful muscles sent tremors rippling through the continent. A mere foreshock compared to the fivefold impact. Five fingertips, ridged and spiralled in grooves the size of valleys, mocking the feeble mirrors below. They struck the tortured earth and it burst with rolling fire and a rising spray of soil and stone. No meteor had ever landed a blow as fierce. He felt the heat that rose, burned and poisoned the air. Plumes of exploding magma that tickled and warmed his skin.. and massacred the helpless multitudes. Black clouds of ash rising that would surely kill anything he left alive. Unlikely as that seemed that anything could possibly live. The deepest bunkers cracked and filled with flowing rock. The world churned. And the aroused giant tore an entire city from its earthly bonds.

If anyone had lived beyond that impact. Any crawling specks of life managed to evade having their bodies burst by the forces that lifted them: they surely froze and burned at once. Suffocating as they were raised beyond the tallest mountains. To thinner air the magma hadn't boiled.. and yet they'd gasp and gag. The last thing they'd know the vast endless wall of flesh. And his musk. Overwhelming every sense that still dared to function.

The next stroke carried with it the remains of a dead city. Millions churned to grit against his length. Hardly registering against his sensitive shaft. Thousands of skyscrapers pulverised, pulped and obliterated, dragged back and forth with an increasing urgency. Remains sifted through his fingers, swept across a ravaged landscape while his grip tightened. A swipe and he smeared the entirety of a city across his length.

But they were too paltry for him, and they left nothing more than a thin grey smattering of dust adhered to the finest layer of sweat on his skin.

The growl that followed was felt across whole stalled nations. A deep, thunderous sound that shivered its way through the ground. Not defeating, but all consuming. There was no place that didn't return the sound of displeasure: his irritation that these millions were unable to please. And they'd pay in blood.

The tip of his cock moved down, the sky split by his slit. A tear that offered them a taste of his scent. Fingers working until a single beaded droplet formed. Clouded and swirling like the patterns on a bubble, swelling and bulging. Making the motes below utterly insignificant before that single drop. And they screamed. Families clutched each other while the streets ran and howled. While his pleasure dribbled closer.

The scent of it saturated the air, the humidity rose, and the mites panic grew tenfold. They staggered and cowered, were tossed on the bouncing ground or vanished into chasms.. only to be crushed when the liquid ground moved again. But they couldn't run. There was no hope that they could scatter far enough from the coming deluge. The giant would smother them all in his seed. Use their civilisation of microbes as a rag to soak up his need. And they'd die for it. For him.

His strokes grew slower and more deliberate, his tip moving closer to frenzied streets. A soft sheen forming across the landscape of his naked body, as though the atmosphere was condensing against it.. but it was only sweat. Darkness washed over the city, the heat rising so people struggled to breathe in the fetid air, many blacking out while the delirium filled every avenue?

Then it hit. The tip of his shaft struck the city, mowing down hundreds of skyscrapers that were sent vanishing into an immense crested crater that rimmed his shaft. That droplet released, it flowed and spread. It's weight crushing structures beneath it, swallowing them in a thick viscose wave of pre. Those that resisted the weight giving their cowering motes a last view of cloudy cum swallowing their city. The scent of it overwhelmed them: choked them and killed them. Thousands of people crushed and entombed? and that was a single drop.

A pause.

Then a growl that shook a nation. A continent. A world. A growl that crumbled stone and sent the rabid mites into a mad frenzy of terror. Finally their measly offering actually titillated.

Mighty fingers detached from his shaft and swept out to brace the ground once more, mangling it into an impossibly mountainous landscape. And he pushed. His tip shunted forwards. Riding across his own dribbled lake of pre, lifting a curving crested wave of broken humanity that rose and split the world below, drawing his tip in a long hungry thrust across the surface. Leaving behind a long scar stripped of all life, stained with sex and death.

But the world ending giant clearly favoured rougher play. The slightest shift and he thrust downwards. The planet crust bowing inwards, buckling, cracking, tearing apart as it was forced into its mantle. And now cities peaked atop a fresh hump of ever growing earth. A mountain range to shame all mountain ranges that reared, hefted by the passage of his manhood forced beneath. He ploughed through it all. Tunnels, bunkers, foundations moiled to nix. Cities and their millions smeared from existence while he fucked the very world that had cradled them. Peaks splitting to pour molten rock, chasms winding with fire that poured smoke and noxious gases, steaming venom around his assault.

He withdrew, and the monstrous plateau collapsed into the groove he left. The dregs of civilisation were long broken apart already, but he thrust again anyway. Savagely, urgently, driving the immense pillar of his shaft over the tortured earth, sweeping away the millions of specks that screamed and died for him. He no longer needed them. His fingers carved fresh cracks, sending them snarling out to meet the ones under his body, shaking and tearing into the earth while he hungered for more survivors to paste unseen under his length.

There were no pictures now. The air currents and violent rending of the earth meant none could get close enough to film his act.. even if they could pierce the steam and smoke that whirled his naked body, carrying with him his own poisonous weather. Soft grunts of booming pleasure his only communications with this dying world.

He thrust. And the plate beneath shifted. Catastrophic earthquakes rimming it in all directions. More death. More raging tsunamis.

Thrust. And cities fell, rendered dust by a being greater than any mere God could ever aspire to be.

Thrust. And the earth screamed fire into the air. People praying and howling for the death to stop. For the world that boiled and broke to stop twisting and buckling and writhing beneath him.

Thrust. His fingers clawed at the earth, tearing through to grip while he held and fucked the broken world. It's heat warming him while the deaths of millions of specks, their society crumbling to dust again him.. tickled him.

Thrust.. and it was too much. A deep convulsion proceeding the inevitable end. His brutality mounted, his pounding becoming uneven. Fingers curling into fists that forced the surface of the planet to burn and seep through them. The vibration increased, and he communicated his need with deep trembling breaths that tore the atmosphere into ribbons of heat and moisture. That slit that divided a sky, that shunted aside cities.. now exuded copious clear fluid.. thickening and surging until he stiffened and growled, his shaft twitched?

...and he came.

It wasn't a flood.. this was a heavy deluge of torrential fluid that arched over the ravaged scenery and struck with deadly weight. Broken cities were eradicated utterly. Smashed by the deadly mass of all consuming cream, their structures pulverised along with their people. Their history and power buried beneath the spunk of a higher being. It held, glistening and swirling, spreading broiling heat and scent into the air? then oozed. A rising wall of mountainous cum that flowed outwards, hungrily swallowing the motes who couldn't hope to stagger from it before it devoured their lives and world alike.

And that was just the first.

He sent more waves of scalding pleasure into their world. Long thick ropes that splattered across a nation, drowning it in the heavy seed, consuming whole towns that swiftly became nothing but a smear under the sticky advance. Then more, hips bucking while he poured into the landscape, growling in delight at all those pathetic little lives perishing in his scalding cream, deliberately angling himself to smother as much of the region as he could.

The swell of cream spread deceptively slowly, seeming to seep across that minute grey green world. In reality though, it swallowed streets faster than anyone could run. Skyscrapers holding for mere seconds while the towering mass pressed around it like a soft while cushion. Those poor, broken fools within having no choice but to watch the windows turn white? then black as it blocked the light. Mere seconds to contemplate their fate while their delicate structure groaned and tipped.

Then the sheer weight of it burst every window, crushing the walls and filling the interior. The soft fluid churning enough to carry and smear their bodies to imperceptible streaks of pink. It filled every basement, broke every structure.

Nothing would survive him.

They died screaming and blinded. His scent in their mouths, his cum holding them, then crushing them beneath it's boiling weight, replacing their civilisation with a pool of his design. A pool the survivors could never hope to clear. A churning ocean of cum that bulged up deeper than any skyscraper. The mass graves for an entire civilisation.

His fingers scraped free of the earth, back to loop his shaft, stroking and squeezing every last drop of cum from it. Letting it spool down lazily over every patch if visible green or grey, turning their world white.

Lazily, he dragged his tip over the ground, wiping away the last cataclysmic lakes of cream into a colossal valley. Cleaning himself off with the broken ruins, a cruel smirk painted across his face.

He knew what he'd done. How many he'd massacred just for a quick fuck. He knew the little globe would struggle to survive the apocalyptic level of destruction he left. The survivors would starve and taste his scent to the end while millions and millions of gallons if his pleasure continued to slowly seep and smother a nation. He was the harbinger of death. Armageddon incarnate. He'd brought their civilisation to its fucking knees.

Just to cum.


He crossed that hidden threshold from monster beyond monsters, to mundane, the door showing a fleeting glance of smoke and burning glows before that chink between worlds shrivelled to a fine line and vanished. Not even a hint of dust marred his suit to evidence his actions. He was a normal man, consumed by normal thoughts while he adjusted his tie. Neat clothing and professional bearing concealing that cruel creature within.

Engaged as he was, he didn't immediately notice an angry shadow detach itself from where it had been standing. Stern arms crossed and a scowl framed by a mass of hair. She waited with the air of a pantomime character, glowering at the invisible door, then to him, lips pursed, about to point and shout AHA at the villain caught out.

"You went without me again." It wasn't a question. It was a solid statement of fact. An accusation. The titan in waiting jumped, his eyes flicking up and the briefest tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks before his features rearranged themselves back into an openly smug smirk.

It was clearly the wrong response for, if a scowl could deepen, it now did. Her eyes narrowed.
"Well? What did you do? Did you bother to leave anything this time."

The giant smiled disarmingly, stepped in close as
though to whisper secret sweet nothings in her ear, to promise her another or apologise for taking a world for his own.

He lifted a finger that had so recently cleaved apart a civilisation?

...and booped her nose.

"Nothing for noses."

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