Heavy is the Cock... - Part 7 (Patreon)

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Arthur knew that there was a big difference between being huge and being full, and as he moved into the bathroom with Lance, he felt both sensations peaking. He stood in the bathroom with Lance right in front of him, slowly hooking his fingers into the waistband of the jockstrap—which had been digging into his body for hours. Even when soft, the size of his bulge forced his legs to spread apart to support the weight, straining the pouch as his balls felt packed to the maximum.

“Alright,” Lance said, reaching forward to press his fingers into the waistband before slowly pulling it down. “Here’s the plan. We work together to make you cum, and we get everything into the tub. No mess, and no rush. You only relax and let it out, okay?”

Arthur let out a shaky laugh, watching Lance’s hands. “Okay. That sounds good.”

Lance grinned and kept pulling the jockstrap off. The fabric had been stretched so tight around Arthur’s cock and balls that it stuck to his skin, dragging over the thick base first as Lance worked carefully. Arthur gasped as the pressure changed. The moment the support gave way, his cock dropped forward with its real weight, and it made his knees buckle for a second before he caught himself.

“Fuck…” Arthur whispered, instinctively grabbing the nearby counter for balance.

“I’ve got you,” Lance said, smiling and taking his time for Arthur’s sensitive skin to adjust. 

However, it got worse when the strap rolled under his balls. They were packed so tight that even the slightest change made them move and bounce. When the support slipped free, they dropped and rested on the ground with their full weight. Arthur groaned, and his whole body shivered as the pressure changed.

“Easy, easy,” Lance said, softly resting his hands on Arthur’s balls. “Let it settle.”

Arthur nodded, breathing hard and enjoying the freedom for the first time in hours. His cock hung heavily between his legs, with veins standing out along the length as it started to twitch. His balls rested on the ground, with the skin stretched tight as the whole orbs seemed to churn faintly with every breath he took.

“Damn it, I needed that off,” Arthur said, still catching his breath.

“Yeah, I could tell,” Lance said, looking down, clearly impressed. “You’re way too full.”

Arthur laughed softly. “No kidding.”

Lance pressed his hands more firmly into Arthur’s balls, testing the give and realizing how taut they were. “Man. Yeah, you’re packed,” he whispered, smirking at Arthur before his other hand reached forward along Arthur’s cock. He caressed his fingers across the thick length, then slid his hand beneath it to lift it, but it was too heavy to do it easily.

Arthur moaned softly, loving the touch. “Careful,” he said, though he didn’t pull away.

“I am,” Lance said, using both hands to lift the head of Arthur’s cock until it was closer to his face. He paused there for a second, looking at it like he was still getting used to the scale, then leaned in and kissed the slit slowly.

Arthur groaned, tilting his head back and tightening his grip on the counter. “Damn…”

Lance pulled back with a grin, clearly proud of himself, then set the cock back down carefully. “Alright. Now we actually do the plan before you lose it right here,” he said, and Arthur nodded weakly. “Come on. We get you over there so your cock aims at the tub. The whole point is to allow everything to flow into the tub rather than spilling out everywhere else.”

Getting into position took effort. Arthur had to move slowly, one step at a time, adjusting as his cock swung and his balls dragged on the floor. He didn’t need to get near the tub because his cock—which was still soft—was long enough to reach the edge way before the rest of Arthur’s body. He still took his time to let everything settle correctly as Lance stayed behind him, firmly gripping his hips as if to steady him.

Lance got closer, smirking and softly moving his hands from Arthur’s hips to his ass, and then to the front. “Alright,” he whispered. “Let’s get started.”

Arthur nodded, breathing a little harder. The pressure in his balls had increased in the last few minutes. He could almost feel how they produced more cum by the second, making everything feel tighter, fuller, and firmer.

Lance got by Arthur’s side and spread both hands around the base of Arthur’s cock. The contact made Arthur shiver, but then Lance started moving along the length, tracing one of the heavy veins running up the side.

Arthur moaned softly, instinctively pushing his hips forward. “Oh, fuck. Yes!”

Lance kept going, feeling the cock thickening and lengthening under his hands. It swelled quickly, jumping from heavy and soft to a solid column that pushed into his grip. The skin tightened, veins firmed up, and the shaft nudged forward each time Arthur’s heart kicked.

Arthur’s knees buckled again as Lance’s strokes got firmer and longer. Lance reached for the glossy head again, using his finger to tease the slit. By the time the massive cock was fully hard, it had reached 64 inches long and about 28 inches around—far too big to work on it the usual way. Instead, Lance spread his hands wide, using his whole upper body to work on it with smooth strokes from the thick base up as far as he could reach before going back down.

Arthur closed his eyes in bliss. “Fuck—Lance.” His voice was shaky, and his hips twitched as much as his body would let him. The pressure in his balls peaked, making the massive cock throb hard into Lance’s embrace.

“Well,” Lance said, planting his feet firmer. “We’re nowhere near the main event.” He bent his knees and braced his shoulder under the shaft so he could move both hands lower. His fingers spread wide as he massaged around the root, then pushed upward again—flexing his arms, sliding his forearms along the hot skin, and chasing the thick vein up the side.

Arthur trembled from the contact, crying out in bliss. His cock throbbed harder, and precum started leaking out of his slit. Each stroke drew another glob of sticky precum. His balls churned violently, swelling tighter, and the skin drew so smooth it almost shone in the light. Lance pressed, slid his arms, leaned against the shaft, and dragged his grip all the way to the head and then back down to the base as Arthur kept grunting.

Arthur’s jaw tightened and his back arched. “Oh, fuck—” he groaned. “I’m gonna—” His balls pulled up close, going rock‑hard and hot as the pressure inside them started moving.

Lance held the base of the cock, feeling the cum traveling through it. “There it is!”

The first jet slammed into the bottom of the tub with a wet slap that echoed in the room and sent drops flying up the tiles. Arthur’s whole body jolted while a loud moan broke out of his mouth, so raw that his voice cracked out of him. His cock throbbed again, and another blast followed, adding more cum into the rising pool as the porcelain shuddered. The vibration ran right through the tub and through the floor, and it was only getting more intense.

Arthur’s thighs quivered, his feet skidded on the slick tile, and he reached for a nearby rail for leverage because his whole body felt like it was collapsing. His breathing turned into sharp panting, accompanied by helpless groans as a literal torrent of cum streamed out of his slit. Each shot felt bigger, hotter, and so pressurized that it bowed his back. His ass clenched, his calves shook like they might give out, and his hips bucked on their own.

The level climbed past the base in seconds as Arthur’s cock kept firing like a pump stuck wide open. The drain didn’t stand a chance as thick, white cum kept slamming the surface with ridiculous speed, slapping against the sides and coming back in choppy ripples.

Arthur closed his eyes, unable to keep them open as such overwhelming pleasure took over him. His mouth was open while his body rocked forward under the strain. His whole frame shook with each contraction, making the rails rattle under his grip. A heavy, salty smell soon filled the bathroom, so intense that it was almost dizzying.

“Fuck! I can’t—” Arthur gasped, but his orgasm cut off his words. The torrent smacked the surface so hard Lance swore he felt the floor tremble.

“Okay. That’s—” Lance’s began as another violent spurt hit. “That’s more than last time.”

Arthur laughed weakly between groans. “Yeah—been—holding it—too long.”

The drain seemed useless as the tub filled past halfway, then three‑quarters, then right to the brim, churning with every new blast that Arthur’s cock shot out. A few seconds later, the first thick wave spilled over, splashing Lance’s knees, spreading in a glossy sheet that moved toward the hallway. The volume climbed faster than they thought possible.

“Damn it,” Lance said. “You’re flooding the room.”

Arthur nodded, barely conscious. “Can’t—stop—”

His hard cock pulled forward with every pulse, and his legs shook harder. One of his balls churned more violently, throwing his balance off. He lurched forward with a deep moan, and the only thing that stopped him from tipping was Lance holding his hips with both hands.

The overflow continued, spreading across the tile and toward the hallway. Towels were useless, but Lance tried anyway, kicking one toward the edge, then abandoning the effort when it soaked through instantly. For a moment, they really thought Arthur would flood the whole house with his immense load.

It took time—longer than they expected—but when Arthur finally sagged forward, spent and shaking, the tub was full, the whole floor was covered in white, and the air was thick.

Arthur exhaled slowly. “That helped. But I’m still—”

“Yeah,” Lance said, nodding. “I can see that.”

Arthur’s balls were still firm, still swollen, and still holding more than they had given. Cumming had eased the pressure, but it was not enough.

Lance hesitated, then smirked. “Okay, full disclosure,” he said. “I’ve been practicing for a moment like this—stretching, toys, squats, the whole deal—because I figured if we could get you inside me, you’d drain a lot cleaner than into the tub.”

Arthur blinked at him, waiting for a sign that it was a joke. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Lance replied with a grin. “No magic tricks or anything—just stupid dedication and a lot of silicone—A LOT.”

Arthur laughed, still breathless. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Lance said, getting behind Arthur to squeeze his hips. “But I’m sure my insane plan will work, and we’ll enjoy it.”

Arthur watched in disbelief as Lance got into the tub and leaned forward to press his ass against the massive, slick head. “There’s no way—”

Lance smirked, took a deep breath, and guided the 64-inch-long cock toward his tight entrance. The first push met a wall that made Arthur wince. Lance exhaled, rocked back, then moved forward again, letting the thick crown press and hold. His skin spread hot and tight, slowly gaping in ways that should’ve been impossible, and Arthur could feel every millimeter against his cock.

Sweat beaded at Lance’s hairline as he pushed again with a firm grind that made the head dimple his hole before slipping back. Then, the third try got the widest point anchored—almost 30 inches of circumference. Lance’s hole stretched suddenly, making Lance cry out in discomfort and pure pleasure. His fingers gripped the edge of the tub for leverage, and Arthur felt the tremor travel up through the shaft.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Arthur whispered, fighting the urge to thrust.

Lance kept going, slowly taking inch after inch. The burn was intense, but Arthur’s slick skin helped the shaft slide slightly more easily. Arthur felt the heat and pressure around him, how Lance’s body fought and adjusted repeatedly, and how a snug ring squirmed along the crown before sucking it deeper. Half a foot disappeared, then a whole foot, and it kept going.

“Fuck! I can actually feel it moving up.” Lance said between moans as his abdomen bulged outward with the massive shape of Arthur’s cock.

Arthur watched silently, loving the sensation despite how impossible everything was. Lance’s ass spread wider around the girth, swallowing the thick meat bit by bit. 20 inches in and the stretch made Lance’s voice crack with raw cries. His abs stretched, pushing outward even more as the massive cock curved inside him.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, panting.

“Keep going,” Lance replied slowly. “I can take it.” He groaned, lowering himself further, letting gravity help. The next slide pushed nearly another foot inside, and the bulge in his belly rounded harder. “Fuck, so much.”

Arthur groaned at the sight again—his cock stretching Lance from the inside. Every inch inside felt like velvet heat squeezing him. His balls clenched high, begging for release, but he held on, breathing through the sensation.

Lance gripped the edge of the tub more firmly, with sweat dripping off his chin. “Almost there,” he whispered. He rocked back, and his hips spread even more, allowing almost 40 inches inside at this point. Everything was so intense that both men shivered and cried out.

Then, something in Lance’s body relaxed, and Arthur slid the rest of his cock inside without resistance—64 massive inches. Lance’s abdomen ballooned forward in an obscene and ridiculous shape. For a heartbeat they didn’t move, but Arthur felt Lance’s body squirming around him, and his nerves lit up.

When Arthur started moving, he drew back almost a whole foot—dragging it slowly through Lance’s hole—and the stretch made them gasp. Lance arched his back and moaned deeply as his belly slid inward when Arthur pulled free. But then, Arthur pushed forward in with a strong thrust, burying those missing 12 inches until Lance’s ass met his hips with a wet slap that echoed off tile. Lance cried out, his eyes rolled in his head, and his whole body surrendered to what Arthur was doing.

Arthur’s whole frame trembled as the pressure in his balls was getting more intense. He pulled back and slammed forward a second time, using his thighs and hips like pistons while he kept a grip on the rail so he didn’t lose his balance. Every thrust stretched Lance wider, and the thick cock smacked against his prostate, making him moan louder than ever.

As the pounding continued, Arthur felt his balls seize up; the skin drew tight as drumheads. At this point, he couldn’t hold back for more than a second. The first spurt of cum came before he could warn Lance, blasting out of him like a fire hose trapped in flesh. Lance’s cry turned into a choked sob as the torrent flowed deep and his belly expanded with a violent jolt. His skin stretched smooth and shiny within seconds, and Arthur couldn’t stop the climax.

The tub rattled under them. Cum flowed into Lance, swelling his abdomen, first to the size of a beach ball, then bigger and rounder until his belly looked like two yoga balls mashed together under taut skin that glistened with sweat.

Lance was barely conscious while Arthur kept inflating him like a cum balloon, only cradling his massive belly as if trying to keep it together. “Fuck—Arthur—” he gasped.

The mess on the floor rippled as someone had kicked it. Arthur’s calves cramped; he ground his teeth, holding the rail so hard his knuckles ached while his cock kept pumping cum without breaks. The pressure kept rocketing up the shaft, shooting out of him in fire-hot ropes he could feel traveling the full 64 inches buried in Lance.

When the climax finally started fading, Arthur sagged forward, panting heavily, and his thoughts were blurry. He slowly moved backward, feeling how Lance’s body resisted the motion, trying to keep every inch of the massive cock inside, almost sealing around it. Lance cried out again when the head slid free with a wet pop, leaving him feeling empty despite how full he really was. He trembled, watching in shock how his belly was bigger than the rest of his body and realizing that not even a single drop of Arthur’s cum leaked out of his hole.

Arthur stared at the impossible size of Lance’s belly, marveling at how much cum he had taken. But then his attention dropped to look at his balls because they finally felt different—they looked visibly softened. The tightness had eased, and the skin had lost its overstretched look. His cock slowly softened, resting more peacefully than it had ever been in months, if not years.

“Damn—” Arthur gasped. “It—It actually—worked.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, barely audible as his body still adjusted to the fullness.

“You good?” Arthur asked after a while.

Lance took deep breaths, rubbing his massive belly. “I’m full. Like, really full.”

“No kidding,” Arthur said, then winced. “Sorry. That was a lot.”

“Hey,” Lance replied quickly, smiling despite the strain. “I signed up for it, remember?”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah. Didn’t think you meant this much.”

“I’m not complaining,” Lance admitted, then laughed weakly.

The laughter helped, but the situation didn’t improve. Lance tried to straighten and failed. His belly had grown too large, too tight, and too heavy, pulling his center of gravity forward. He couldn’t bend, couldn’t bring his legs together, and couldn’t even take a step without wobbling.

Arthur watched him for a second, then shook his head. “You’re not walking out of here.”

“Not even a little,” Lance agreed.

“Congratulations,” Arthur said. “You’re officially my royal reservoir.”

“Anything for King Arthur.” Lance grinned, patting his cum-filled belly.

Arthur smiled, but it faded into a concerned look. “We need to get you to bed.”

The idea sounded easier than it really was. Arthur was lighter than usual, but still far from stable, and Lance was unable to move on his own. They improvised with blankets—sliding one under Lance and using it as a makeshift sling while Arthur pulled. Still, they barely moved a few inches at a time as Arthur’s soft cock and balls dragged behind him, forcing him to stand at awkward angles while trying to work.

It took nearly an hour to get Lance onto the bed. By the time they finished, Arthur was sweating, exhausted, and leaning heavily against the frame. Lance lay on his back, with his belly rising like a hill that wobbled like a massive water balloon.

“Okay,” Arthur said, catching his breath. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Not for a while, it seems.” Lance laughed. “But my king will take care of me, right?”

Arthur grinned, slowly getting into bed beside Lance. “It’s the least I can do,” he added, reaching to caress the massive belly. “But I can’t promise I won’t want to do it again.”

Lance smirked, reaching down to pat Arthur’s cock. “I’ll be ready, my king.”

The first night was the hardest. Lance couldn’t move without help, couldn’t sit up, couldn’t even shift his weight without Arthur adjusting pillows and supports around him. Arthur checked on him constantly, making sure he could breathe comfortably.

“You’re okay?” Arthur asked for the third time in an hour.

Lance rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m fine. I won’t burst. I’m just full.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, sitting beside him. “That’s kind of my fault.”

“Our fault,” Lance corrected. “And I meant it. I’m proud of it.”

Arthur shook his head, smiling. “If I’m honest, I’m very proud.”

Lance laughed, blushing when he noticed how Arthur looked at his belly. “Well, you should be proud. You filled the tub, flooded the bathroom, and filled me up like this. That’s a lot.”

Over the next few days, Lance stayed in bed while his body processed the impossible volume of cum. The change was gradual. By the second day, he could move his arms more freely, shifting slightly with Arthur’s help. By the third, he could sit up partway, supported by a fortress of pillows. By the fourth, he could stand for a few seconds with Arthur’s arm around him, even though his belly pulled him forward.

Arthur took care of him all along. He brought food and water to the bedside, wiped sweat from Lance’s skin, propped pillows beneath him, and kept him entertained during the long stretches when they couldn’t leave the room. Since Lance could move his arms, he insisted on paying the favor back the only way he could: by wrapping his hands around Arthur’s thick cock and working him off whenever the pressure started getting too much—which turned into three, sometimes four, times a day.

Every session ended the same: Arthur trembling while gallons of hot cum blasted over the sheets, spattered the floor, and dripped off the mattress in thick streams. Towels, buckets, and even a plastic tarp failed in minutes.

By the second day, a permanent pool of cum spread on the floor, and there was a salty‑sweet fog that made them horny all day long. The cycle fed on itself—the cum scent sparked the need, the need sparked another milking, the fresh flood deepened the scent, and it all started again. They joked that the bedroom was turning into a pool but still didn’t slow down, and the sheets stayed warm and wet the whole time.

One night, Lance smirked right after Arthur had busted a massive nut all over the bed for the fourth time that day. “You know,” he said, “I always figured helping you would be intense. I didn’t think it would mean being stuck in your bed for days. Not a bad assignment, though.”

Arthur chuckled. “Sir Lance, trapped in service to his king.”

Lance snorted. “Sounds poetic, King Arthur.”

Arthur leaned back, feeling lighter than he had in months. “Still,” he said after a moment, “I owe you. Jokes aside, nobody has done so much for me after all this madness started.”

Lance smiled. “Jokes aside, you’re a king, and I’m here to help you deal with the crown.”

Arthur nodded, enjoying how they had turned what initially was a bad joke into something that actually fit the situation.

By the time Lance could finally move again, Arthur could feel the pressure in his balls getting more intense even though he had been cumming several times a day. He looked at Lance, then down at himself, then back again. “This is going to be a problem,” he said.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Because?”

Arthur smirked. “Because you’re the only one who can handle that much. And every time we do it, you’re out of commission for days.”

Lance laughed, then winced as his body tightened. “Yeah. That’s not ideal.”

Arthur shrugged, grinning playfully. “On the bright side, you’re really good at it.”

“Of course I am.” Lance rolled his eyes. “So, what do you say? Would you take care of me for another week if we go again?”

Arthur didn’t respond with words, but his cock hardened instantly, pulsing visibly. “It’s not like I have other things to do, Sir Lance.”

...

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