Falco's section in the Hole Foods is bigger than mine, but that's okay.
Much like we are in real life, Falco prefers to be macro, but I prefer to be macro and micro.
I do not wish to be bigger than Falco.
When Falco fucks a building, its debris and glass just tickles Falco's cock and he says it feels quite good.
When Falco fucks a planet, its mantle and core don't hurt Falco's cock. He says it feels like fucking a warmed fleshlight.
A planet Falco fucks is usually either uninhabited or a stronghold for an enemy base, so the number of good people harmed in such an endeavor is practically minimal.
Falco's spermies get bigger when he's macro, too, so there's no concern to be pregnant.
It's only natural, given his output, that his section in Hole Foods would be bigger than mine.
Corneria is divided into two hemispheres; NorCal and SoCal.
We live in SoCal, but Falco's fucked both.
Venom only has one hemisphere; NoCal.
You do not wish to be from NoCal.
It's why Wolf O'Donnell is pissed off all the time, and why he killed my dad.
Wolf doesn't admit it but he secretly loves being micro. So he picks a fight with Star Fox, loses on purpose and gets punished by us. We pretend not to notice.
I pick a few jars of Falco's cum off the shelves and put it in my environmentally friendly Hole Foods shopping bag, because I live in SoCal, and being environmentally friendly is kind of a big deal.
Macro Falco's cum makes your fur glossy, your skin fine, and your dick bigger temporarily. I drink it every day.
Every ingredient of Falco's cum is restorative and the sperm is even better. But it can cause a mild stomachache when the sperm is big enough to be seen. That's why the drink on the market has the sperm painstakingly removed from the beverage, so his want to drink the fresh cum during their sex.
However, the sperm is often harvested illicitly by members of the Oole Wakkdakkano Cult. Sometimes the sperm grows to the size of housecats, and higher ranking members try to unhinge their jaws and swallow them whole.
I can't believe I'm buying it, though, off the shelves, on this day and precisely this time as members of the Oole Wakkdakkno Cult gather around Falco in anticipation for his weekly transformation. City bells ringing, echoing off the atmosphere. You could hear them from Venom.
Oh well. We'll get there soon enough. And I like to keep jars of the stuff in my house for when Falco isn't on planet.
Despite Falco's cum being breathable, so nobody drowns, and despite the fact that Falco's cum never spoils or stinks, Slippy's robots clean it up rather hastily so that a city is never flooded for long, but it remains longer when Falco grows really big and cums too much. He then jars and sells it as health food. Mine too.
We were offered the lion's share of profits, but I'm already rich, and as Falco said in response to this "my Macro dick is bigger than all the off planet billionaire accounts combined."
Slippy insisted we take some of the profits, but we decided it better if the rest of our percentage went to research in the undoing of Rwandan genocide.
I pick up four jars of precum and six jars of Falco's Macro Cum with his face and naked body including his penis on the jar. Falco's pre tastes like High Fructose Corn Syrup Imitation Syrup, like the kind what you might find in a plastic bottle labeled Mrs. Nuttersworth. It hurts your teeth if you have cavities. However, his semen cum tastes like sugar-free condensed milk. It smells different than a human's cum, which I have tasted, and smelled, in many varieties. It's strong but it doesn't stink, if that makes sense. Falco's cum, I mean.
Human cum stinks, but I don't mind so much.
As I bring my bagged jars up to the 12 items or less checkout isle, and hand the lady my Hole Perks card I remember the first time we ever tasted the fruits of enlarged cum together. It was in a Super Smash Brothers tournament. A mushroom had fallen from the sky, and while Kirby inhaled Donkey Kong to absorb his powers, which was his fetish, we discovered our own on the battlefield that day.
The barcodes on my jars of cum scanning makes for an inconsistent booping sound, the soundtrack to my memory. Falco unhinging his beak and swallowing the super mushroom whole.
We had read about them, we had known what they did. What we didn't know, is what it would awaken in us.
"Someone's gonna have a fun evening," the cashier giggles before noticing me.
"Evenings. I drink it every day."
He ears perks up and she looks at me like a deer in headlights, or a human with no instincts in a fight or flight situation. "Ohmigosh," she breaths. "Are you Star Fox?!"
"Fox McCloud," I say, correcting her. "Star Fox is my team, but I get that all the time."
"Ohmigosh," she says. "I love your cum. I know Falco's is the big seller but I like your cum better than I like Falco's cum."
"Thank you," I say. "That really means a lot."
"It stiffens my nipples and moistens my vagina when I drink your cum. It also makes my fur vibrant and glossy."
"Yeah," I say, losing myself momentarily to the memory of Fox tearing through his clothes for the first time, every vein and muscle and organ bulging with growth from the Super Mushroom. His cum firing out like a burst pipe or a firehose, smashing all of us off the board. We didn't die because it's cartoon rules.
"I'd like to suck it from your dick someday," she says hopefully.
"Maybe," I say, "I'm gay though so probably not."
"I understand," she says smiling and nodding her head. People are very respectful here. I try to tip her a dollar but it's against Hole Foods policy to tip the cashiers. I knew this going in, but it looks really nice when I try. She looks at the date and time on the receipt she gives me and tilts her head when she looks at me. The bells are also a probably good indication of what time it is. "Aren't you and Falco supposed to be having Macro Sex?"
After the tournament, we brought a duffel bag full of Super Mushrooms to the Lylat System, and commissioned Slippy to make growth pills. It seems Falco has found his inborn size adjustment ability while testing the pills, and he no longer needs them.
"I'm just gonna watch today," I say, "Falco can have plenty of fun without me and I like to watch sometimes."
"Sexualizing?"
"Yeah, I wanna get my sexualization levels up for next week so when I cum I smash Falco off the planet, like in Super Smash Brothers, only instead of a board it's a planet."
"That's sexual," she says, "I'll ask for the day off."
"Hope to see you there," I say.
It's not far to the times square of SoCal City, Capital of the Northern Hemisphere of Corneria: SoCal. He's already well into enlarging when I arrive. Members of the Oole Wakkdakka Cult praying and chanting as pre drips down to gallons. By now, to Falco, I am just a furry blip in a pond of worshippers. Pre dripping down on us gallons at a time.
"Pick me!" they shout and they scream. Krystal besides me, not even noticing that I'm here. She is the one who started the Oole Wakkdakkano cult, and therefore, literally stands on a pedestal in the crowd. "Pick me for cock vore your majesty!"
When Falco does oral vore, he just teases micros with his tongue and doesn't swallow them. If he has to swallow them, such as fans who want to be vored, they are coated in his precum which has anti-digestional properties so they can exit the body safely. Most of the fluids we excrete now are precum, except for semen cum, so just sweating on them will sometimes do the trick. But he does like the principle aesthetics of swabbing them against his throbbing meatus. So do I. It enthralls my sexualization percentage.
Our precum cannot be digested or destroyed. When you drink a jar of our precum, it passes through your body and into the toilet almost entirely unchanged. More frugal people and animals like to recycle.
When Falco does cock vore, micros are usually stuck in the middle or the tip of the urethra because his precum consistently pushes them out. Their struggle makes Falco feel good, he likes to say at dinners or nice parties, and they can escape safely when Falco cums. They aren't digested into cum, and again, because cum is breathable like LCL fluid, they don't drown.
We can breathe in space.
Villains flown into space can still survive. Falco grabs them and hands over them to Corneria Army.
Falco's clothes do not burst this time - as he can enlarge his clothes and accessories or things that he recognizes as part of himself, depending on his mood. Sometimes I am an extension of this, and sometimes, so is his arwing when he's inside it. He can also grow infinitely - there is no limit to his fetish.
His wingtips descend upon us as precum splashes up to our knees in waves, making it difficult to stand and endure. His sperm is 10.6 inches when he's six miles tall and flooding a city, and 1.7 miles when he's sixty thousand miles tall and fucking a planet. Falco cums five ounces during ejaculation, and its volume is cubed when he's macro. For example, he cums 640 tons, or 1,400,000 pounds when he's a thousand feet tall. Falco usually cums three times a day, either with masturbation or sex, but he can cum dozens of times during the rut. His rut coincides with mine. We don't feel tired after a cum.
Krystal, right next to me, is picked up and ascends to the heavens. We're gay, but gender is disregarded when pleasing our micro fans.
She has waited her whole life for this day, which is why she started a cult in the first place. It occurs to me as he stuffs her screaming into his tight, wanton meatus that Falco's orgasm is much more intense and longer than a human's, and it gets even stronger when he's macro. He also gets more sensitive when he's macro, so even micros can make him reach orgasm.
As Krystal's muffled screams disappear into the leaking hole in the tip of his penis, I notice Slippy's drones circling the area, recording, capturing this from every conceivable angle. When this is over, and the footage is uploaded to the Great Fox via satellite, Slippy will begin personally and professionally editing the footage together so he can upload it to the internet for a widespread release. He could profit from this, but he doesn't. It just contributes to our sexualization.
Falco towers over the tallest building nearby, the Cornerian Towers of Trade. It's the eleventh of September at exactly 6:09 P.M. when Falco's throbbing member enters the side of the building. The people and animals jumping from the windows do not fall to their deaths, but to their lives, because it's cartoon rules.
Falco's macro dick pumping in and out of the building, it's immediate when his throbbing circumcised fronthead pokes through the other side of the building, pushing people and animals, office chairs and desks through the windows on the other side. Again, they do not die, I cannot stress enough that it is cartoon rules.
Falco wasn't circumcised at birth, but he did it to himself later because he likes penises better that way.
The glass and rubble and remaining people and animals and contents of the floors he's fucking tickle and please his penis as Krystal struggles in vain to make it to his balls, which also tickles and pleases his penis.
When he cums, his semen rockets out of his throbbing penis and destroys several adjacent buildings with the sheer force of his cum spray.
Tomorrow, the city will be restored back to normal because of the advanced technologies of the Lylat System. For now, the city floods and we are all washed away like farts into a vacuum.
My lungs and tummy fills with Falco's Macro Cum as I suck ravenously, completely submerged. I am no longer in control of my body, and I lose consciousness something like three blocks away.
- - - - -Star Fox: Advent Foxhole 2 - Foxholier Than Thou
- - - - -The Fanfiction, The Movie
I awake the next day on the other side of the city to one of Slippy's robots sucking cum and precum out of my bag with a vacuum extension.
Great, some of the jars must have busted. I shoo the robot away and lick some of the cum directly off the broken shards of glass in my environmentally friendly Hole Foods shopping bag, because I live in SoCal, and being environmentally friendly in SoCal is very important. The glass doesn't cut me because it's cartoon rules. I open one of the unbroken jars of precum and guzzle it down like a man in the desert sucks water from a cactus.
A man approach me, who is visibly erect through his cumsoaked pants. "Hey bub," he says. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I say, giving him a nod of familiarity. "Cartoon rules."
"Yeah," he says. "You're Star Fox, right?"
"Fox McCloud," I say, correcting him. "My team's called Star Fox. But I get that all the time."
"Tell me something," he says, unzipping and touching himself sexually, before he begins furiously masturbating. "What's the point of all this?"
He's breathing hard, and the fapping sound laps at my ears like a housecat laps at a bowl of milk or sometimes water when he's thirsty.
My eyes roll back in my head and I channel my god, the god that made all of this possible.
"Togepi1125 (who is responsible for 99.9% of macro Falco pictures) regards himself as macro Falco when he enjoys his commissions."