THE INVASION OF MARK
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The Cock God
It wasn't so much being trapped in a balloon that shook him up, but more the total effect of seeing all that land- all that place- at one time. The other-worldly polymer that now encased mark and controlled his ascent, somehow allowed him to survive the cold and crushing pressure changes he would have otherwise experienced in his journey into the upper-stratosphere. Way above cloud cover, the sun blazing in all directions, the serene landscape of fluffy clouds betrayed the nature of this perilous odyssey. If he was to die up here, he thought, at least he would have laid his eyes first hand on the greatest beauty that Earth has to offer.
As the blue hues gave way to the blackness that blankets the stars, Mark began to feel faint, and a tingling spread throughout his body. Though he was no longer captive to the balloon, the coldness of space did not freeze him; he was not turned inside out by any vacuum. He was alive. It was hard to describe what happened to Mark as a revelation, but it got him to think differently at least. Clearing his head and lifting his eyes to the planet below him, he felt strange. Calm, but powerful. Like a GOD. With a newfound sense of glory, he clenched his fists and began to feel an energy piercing his every fibre -- tautening his skin, strengthening his bones. It was as though he was being irradiated by the Universe itself, bombarded with greatness. His clothes could not contain his bulging pectorals, nor his barreling chest. And I make no hesitation to mention that Mark was not afforded the stretchy garments enjoyed by the Incredible Hulk of his childhood comic books. His engorged manhood was now swinging forbodingly above the Earth, like a great flaccid pendulum of lust. He knew what he had to do. He had to take his godly seed back down to the mortals, he was chosen, ordained by the great singularity to repopulate the Universe.
He salivated hungrily like a rabid dog at the thought of all the vulva he would soon taste. He would have his chin firmly suctioned into the moist crevaces of Earth's young maidens, and his tongue would lovingly unsheath and pleasure the beautiful cloaked flesh that would soon long for his touch. His mighty penis, now unyielding, engorged and dripping with pre-cum, was ready for the relentless cunt-stretching to come.
But men are jealous beings, each self-serving in their desire to pass on their own legacy and genes to succeeding generations. Mark was a threat that would have to be dealt with.
And so, civilisations' great illuminati gathered in secret. This new superbeing long fortold by the great Evilbore Prophecy was now a reality. Defence satellites and a network of amateur enthusiasts with telescopes were already spreading the word of Mark the Cock God's lusting descent. Time was of the essence. It was not long before a team was assembled with a view to creating a weaponised agent that could kill or at least delay the monster in his conquest. My esteemed colleague Gill Samuels and three others, leaders in their respective fields, were assembled with haste by the US State Department and set to work in a top secret laboratory under ground. They began to study ways to reverse the effects of viagra, and other aphrodisiacs. They called it, amusingly, operation floppy... but the situation was anything but amusing. Men the world over were left feeling inadequate and suicidal as cock hungry women the world over flocked to Mark the Cock God, and Mark in turn hunted the finest pussy, claiming it for himself. With Mark the Cock God's seed oozing throughout our women and the Earth, we were literally being invaded from the inside. Doctor Samuels was not just the creator of Viagra, operation floppy made her a soldier for the US government, for all mere mortals everywhere... a hero. I came to believe that "operations" didn't really exist and that like us, it was four of them in a room, holding back the dam.