LlunaBlue Except... you hear your own(?) voice telling YOU "Happy weekend, girl!" as you sit there in your pyjamas in front of the TV. Balros walks in with a barely-hidden grin and looms his, again, barely-hidden package in front of your face; it's the size of your torso! "What's wrong, girl? aren't you going to kiss your babysitter's sheath like you do every Saturday morning?" Balros & Echoen The four-years-young battygirl blinkblinks as she sits in front of the TV, legs splayed and wings in front of her, the squirrel's voice baritone in her ear. The buttons on the jammies on her chest start to stretch and pop as her tits visibly inflate, nipples jamming forth fat and stiff when that musky sheath is shoved in her face. She looks up at him with big, innocent blue eyes, lips suckling around the thick rim of his sheath without hesitation, or maybe even much understanding either. LlunaBlue You're snickered at as you dumbly suck away; neither of us can remember who exactly we were by this point. Eons of constantly being fucked and warped and mutated beyond imaginable comprehensions and scales have played out and reset once again. That blue fox had done something... instilled a drive to mercilessly corrupt the both you and himself over and over again! "Huuuunf... 'n' I need to take care of my batty baby-momma..." The dumb expression on your "young" face as your womb plumps up and swells larger is ALWAYS one of the sweetest moments... Balros & Echoen Just sniffing the hypervirile scent of sheath and breedshaft was enough to knock the young battygirl up. The blue fox on TV encouraging her into her big radar ears, even as her throat bulges with more and more dick being fed down into her gullet. One button remains on her pajamas that keeps her tits and cleavage on display - but the pressure upon it grows as the swell of her young plump belly pushes forth. In the span of just a few sucks and gulps of squirrel cock, her tum plumps from soft to swollen to girthy to gut, navel pushing out to fully demonstrate how fucking pregnant she is now. Innocent eyes reflect no understanding of what's happening, only the pleasure of how it feels... even as she spreads thick thighs and a suspiciously plump-fuckable battygirl butt, and her pussy pushes open around an even younger battygirl face as she gives birth right fucking there. Her daughter... the first thing she sees is the blue fox on TV, and her chest begins to push out with breasts, her belly fattening with pregnancy before she's even fully pushed out... LlunaBlue The Lluna on the TV is sitting at a mock-up of a news reporter's desk, with the ticker underneath reading "LATEST UPDATES ON SIMULATION #[REDACTED] The camera switches to another Lluna in front of a large screen, displaying charts and numbers, the latter of which are rapidly increasing. A CG image of a brain appears on screen before it pulses and throbs in the exact places the seconds-old batdaughter feels within her skull. With each throb, a new cosmic understanding forces itself upon her and overwhelms her anew. She's made to comprehend the overwhelming magnitudes of the amount of spawn Lluna has forced (or not-so-forced) out of her ancestors; Googolplex levels don't even come close, and all of that pales in comparison to the realisation of how vast her FUTURE family tree will be that will branch off from her! The TV then switches back to the anchor-Lluna, who displays a memetic mutation agent in the upper-left window. Those blue eyes fade away as her head begins to elongate and simplify. HEr mother squirms and cries out as her first daughter's fusing against her walls and becoming a massive shaft! The throbs within the shaft's dick-head letting her remain all too aware of EVERY detail, including how it feels to throatbirth and cockbirth at the same time while feeling her baby-batties travelling up her entire body.