Infinite cûm. You sit on the toilet to jack off, but you begin to cûm uncontrollably. After ten spurts you start to worry. Your hand is sticky and it reeks of semen. You desperately shove your dîck into a wad of toilet paper, but that only makes your balls hurt. The cûm accelerates. It’s been three minutes. You can’t stop cûmming. Your bathroom floor is covered in a thin layer of baby fluid. You try to cûm into the shower drain but it builds up too fast. You try the toilet. The cûm is too thick to be flushed. You lock the bathroom door to prevent the cûm from escaping. The air grows hot and humid from the cûm. The cûm accelerates. You slip and fall in your own spêrm. The cûm is now six inches deep, almost as long as your still-erect semen hose. Sprawled on your back, you begin to cûm all over the ceiling. Globs of the sticky white fluid begin to fall like raindrops, giving you a facial with your own cûm. The cûm accelerates.

You struggle to stand as the force of the cûm begins to propel you backwards as if you were on a bûkkake themed slip-and-slide. Still on your knees, the cûm is now at chin height. To avoid drowning you open the bathroom door. The deluge of man juice reminds you of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, only with cûm instead of molasses. The cûm accelerates. It’s been two hours. Your children and wife scream in terror as their bodies are engulfed by the snow-white sludge. Your youngest child goes under, with viscous bubbles and muffled cries rising from the goop. You plead to God to end your suffering. The cûm accelerates. You squeeze your dîck to stop the cûm, but it begins to leak out of your ässhöle instead. You let go. The force of the cûm tears your urethra open, leaving only a gaping hole in your crotch that spews semen. Your body picks up speed as it slides backwards along the cûm. You smash through the wall, hurtling into the sky at thirty miles an hour.

From a bird’s eye view you see your house is completely white. Your neighbor calls the cops. The cûm accelerates. As you continue to ascend, you spot police cars racing towards your house. The cops pull out their guns and take aim, but stray loads of cûm hit them in the eyes, blinding them. The cûm accelerates. You are now at an altitude of 1000 feet. The SWAT team arrives. Military helicopters circle you. Hundreds of bullets pierce your body at once, yet you stay conscious. Your testicles have now grown into a substitute brain. The cûm accelerates. It has been two days. With your body now destroyed, the cûm begins to spray in all directions. You break the sound barrier. The government deploys fighter jets to chase you down, but the impact of your cûm sends one plane crashing to the ground. The government decides to let you leave the earth. You feel your gonads start to burn up as you reach the edges of the atmosphere.

You narrowly miss the ISS, giving it a new white paint job as you fly past. Physicists struggle to calculate your erratic trajectory. The cûm accelerates. The cûm begins to gravitate towards itself, forming a comet trail of semen. Astronomers begin calling you the “Cûmmet.” You are stuck in space forever, stripped of your body and senses, forced to endure an eternity of cûmshots. Eventually, you stop thinking.

-rep ♥♥♥♥♥♥

Is black and whack, also gibe a the vac