Mouse Sensitivity
-----------------
"Arrgh!" His fist hit the desk in frustration, making the lid of his laptop wobble, screen tauntingly displaying his character laying on the ground motionless once more. The bridge of his headset slipped forward through the unkempt headfluff, falling onto his snout and pushing the round, dark-rimmed glasses across the gray fur right to the tip of his nose. But despite the speakers now emitting most of their sound into his cheekbones, he could hear the giggling of his opponents as the end game scores popped up, showing "BenjiiB" far at the bottom again. "Blimey, is everyone over there so bad at this?" The deep, boastful voice asked proddingly. The mouse grimaced with annoyance, pulling the headphones back onto his large ears with one hand and pushing the thick spectacles into place with the other, squinting a little to read the name that lit up in the corner. "No, Zee-Zee-GrimeDosh-Zee-Zee, it's just that my ping across an entire ocean is absolute trash!" He squeaked into his microphone with a high-pitched, slightly raspy rodent tone. "The servers here been having issues all night ever since those earthquakes sta-aah!"

His sentence trailed off into a wavering vowel of unease as everything began to shake again. The empty soft drink cans on his desk bounced across the wooden surface, the lamp hanging from above swung around wildly and the books on the shelf next to him were jostled so much that a handful of them fell to the floor. Small bits of plaster popped from walls and ceiling as fine cracks radiated through them, puffs of white dust following them. All the while he clung to the sides of his car-seat-like chair. All the while the laughter from the other end rose up again, filling his ears with jeer, the active noise canceling shutting out the rumbling echoing for miles. "Eheh, I reckon it's just a skill issue heee-" The voice was stuck on that single syllable as the lights flickered, then went out. The shaking subsided once more, leaving the mouse in the glow of his computer screen, now dimmed as it switched to battery power. After a few seconds, the game session finally disconnected, interrupting the annoying, repeating sample of "e" drilling into his head. But it had been going long enough that he didn't get to hear the deafening groaning noise, coming from the quake's epicenter all to close from where he was.

Instead, he was left in silence as he pulled the headset from his ears and let it fall onto his shoulders. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to relax them from staring intently at a monitor for far too many hours, he opened them again to look out of the window. The gray of the early morning had already started peeking over the horizon, but not enough to offset the lack of street lamps that should have been lit by now, with the only dots of electric light coming from the boats on the slivers of ocean he could see from here. Evidently, it wasn't just his place that lost power after getting shaken up. He could tell that much despite the layer of condensation on the glass, a reminder that he'd been letting his schedule slip orders of magnitude further than he was supposed to, "just one more round" getting in the way of some much-needed self-care.

Too lazy to roll himself over to it, he simply turned his chair, reached out with his foot, unlatched the little metal piece at the bottom and pushed the window upwards with his toes wrapped around the handle. The cold air rushing in a stark difference to the sauna-like conditions in his small, cluttered room, a frigid cloud falling to the floor as the warm wisps began seeping out. He shuddered, pulling his paws back onto the seat of his chair and sinking his chin into the collar of the thick, purple hoodie. With both hands, he tugged at the already straining waistband of his normally comfy sweatpants, but only now he realized just how tight they had become.

He felt his member slide out of its prison between fabric and the fluffy cleft of his hefty nuts, ankle-adjacent at their emptiest, they were now comfortably resting on the ground, burying the bottom of his chair beneath them. It drug itself along the fur toward freedom, making his back arch from the sensations, before inverting its posture as the thigh-thick shaft hit him in the solar plexus, splattering his chest, chin and cheeks with warm, gooey liquid. He groaned, wiping off his glasses on the arm of his hoodie, already dreading having to lug himself over to the tub in this state and cleaning up the mess he'd leave thereafter.

Leaning forward, he pushed his cock along. Its furred surface still soft and squishing under his fingertips, but tense and tender nonetheless, bouncing and throbbing with need. He pulled the foreskin back a bit, just enough to reveal the lips of the pink tip it hid. Immediately they parted to let a stream of precum pour right onto the wooden floor with a heavy splatter, the puddle spreading lazily all the way to the wall underneath the window sill. He rolled his eyes, watching the steam rise from the veined surface, the cool air doing little to reduce the burning heat. Under his breath, he cursed at the game that caused him to get so worked up through unfairly high caps, obvious cheaters and the North American servers just straight up giving in after a few mild, out of place earthquakes.

As he idly rubbed his digits over the sensitive skin, each motion causing another contraction and eliciting a huff as he tried to block out the sensations of just how pent up he'd gotten. He reached his other hand over to his desk and began to fumble through the game's menus. He dismissed the notification that he'd lost connection and clicked on his avatar in the corner, picking the option "BenjiiB's Stats" from the drop-down and hoping that it would at least let him check if he'd manage to hit that ridiculous quota.

A splatter pulled his attention away from the loading spinner. He turned his head just a bit before a jolt raced through his spine that almost made him jump out of his chair, were he not so firmly rooted, his toes digging into the faux leather seat cushion. His arm tensed up as the idle throbs gave way to a powerful push, his cock rearing up as its already hefty underside fattened even further, a rush of precum roiling and bulging his urethra as it billowed up the entire length. He barely caught a glimpse of the mess he'd made before it was taken up by a spray of semi-translucent liquid, slamming into the wall and ripping chunks of plaster loose. He let out a surprised, squeaky, quivering moan, his hand retracting slightly. His shaft took no time at all to seize the opportunity, surging up in an arc. The uninterrupted rope of precum traveled up the wall, coated the sill and then started spewing out the open window, soaring for several hundred feet where it hit the road with splashes, parked cars with metallic thuds and even the houses on the other side of the street.

In a moment of clarity, he tried to keep his aim stable, taking both hands to stem himself against his cock on its way to blast all that pressure right into his face. But as he sunk his fingers into the soft surface, the sensations blew through his brain hard enough to elicit a moan akin to a scream in volume. His limbs went limp as his shaft hardened, continuing its ascent only faster. The sharp crack of glass rung muffled through his ears as he sunk down in his chair, the gray mast rising in his view. The powerful shot swinging back and blasting against the headrest where that he'd just been leaning into, splitting open the fabric and blowing the filling out from under it. He tried to instinctively pull his arms over his face, but his shoulders only bobbed ineffectually. Luckily for him, his member swung back in the other direction, settling into aiming straight up, away from him.

He hung in his chair almost motionless as the fountain of precum kept on spraying unabated. It battered against the cracking ceiling, soaking it whole, a sticky, upside-down puddle spreading across the entire breadth and starting to run down the walls in dense rivulets. Backsplash splattered and thick droplets dripped onto the floor, his desk, his bed and his dresser, the clothes strewn about disappearing under the gooey substance, drink cans getting pelted around from heavy splats hitting them and his laptop's keyboard coated with several hefty globs. He gasped and panted as the sensations kept him bound, fingers twitching and toes digging into the fluff of his balls as he tried to recoil from his own groin. Despite not touching himself at all, the relentless stream of preseed blew out with such force that the kinetic energy alone kept on stimulating him, continually exciting his pulsing member heaving with hundreds of gallons of syrup-thick liquid. It only kept on building ever more, the increasing agitation amplifying his arousal further, in turn pushing the pleasure only higher.

The rumbling resounding from his balls was like the roar of a gargantuan beast shaking the ground. The most powerful earthquake of the night yet, making the entire house quiver to its foundation. The sounds of beams breaking, car alarms blaring and buildings crumbling inaudible over the deafening groans of his nuts, so loud that even the most active noise canceling couldn't have drowned it out this time. His eyes fluttered at the cusp of consciousness as the ecstatic sensations spiked to neuron-frying heights, the uninterrupted blast of precum going for a solid minute and then some already, showing no signs of stopping and pointing everything toward really setting him off instead. Barely able to make out his own whimpers, vision going fuzzier than it already was with his spectacles displaced, body twitching and bucking erratically as his own leakage pushed him over the edge, his climax hitting him like a freight train at supersonic speeds.

His entire, blurry view was filled with white. He felt the heat and displaced air blast into his face, making him squeeze his eyes shut, his mouth agape with a silent scream of bliss. Bits and pieces of the ceiling landed on his head and balls, but the bulk of it had either been disintegrated into a fine mist or catapulted high into the air. The might of the cumshot pushed him into his chair, the column in the center compressing from the pressure enacted upon it, wheels folding inwards from the over thousand pounds of force exceeding the gamer levels of mass that they were rated for. The gigantic fountain of countless cubic miles worth of seed tore the already battered wall before him down to the trim, shattered window launched far into the distance. His consciousness faded into a warm, fuzzy darkness, seeing only the vague, rapidly changing schemes of the unceasing deluge exploding from his loins, leaving him to only quivering, gasping, alternately curling and splaying his digits as if to try and either agitate or tranquilize his endowments.

A dinging noise from his neck made his eyelids flutter. Then another one, and another. A flickering orange from the corner of his vision was the first semblance of a different hue to return to his white view of the world, although that was still the dominant color. He peered around, but could only barely make out the jagged edges of where a wall used to be. He reached up to his face with shaky hands, fingers bumping into his lower lip that made him realize that his mouth hung wide open. He shut it again and fumbled his glasses back into place, giving him a clearer, but slightly distorted view due to the force of his shot having cracked them on both sides. Which was still going unabated, however long he'd been out. It couldn't have been that long, given that it still wasn't much lighter out, but then again the gigantic, horizon-filling blast of seed might have been blocking out the sunlight to a significant degree, the ocean below it having been turned from a cold, morning gray to a steaming, wavering white. Craters and splatters covering the entire way from his home to the beaches buried beneath liquid standing fifty feet high, the whole city consisting of jagged spires peeking out from an alabaster mire.

But clearly, something else was trying to get his attention, the dings from his headset having become a constant cascade of annoyance. While keeping his lower body firmly in place, he turned his head toward the screen and wiped over the keyboard to clear it from the layer of precum splattered upon it. With a squint, he peeked at his stats that had finally loaded. But despite his session having reconnected, he decided to minimize the game instead of mulling over having wasted an entire night on accomplishing nothing much. The view returned to his web browser, where his social feed was spinning by at breakneck speeds, weird photos and videos of various shades of white passing by in a blurry stream. He mashed on the touchpad with two fingers to stop the endless flood of unrecognizable information, taking a look at what everyone was so up in arms about.

The first photo in view was the ruins of a town that he only recognized as a familiar, close-by place after staring at the image for a bit. Buildings having crumbled to their foundations, white lakes covering the area where entire districts used to be, plumes of smoke rising from piles of rubble. The caption reading "and i thought these earthquakes earlier were the worst of it." The next post was a video of a white streak soaring across the sky. A thick liquid high up in the atmosphere, droplets breaking off of the stream and plummeting down, a reddish friction glow shimmering around their edges. The rope visibly descending toward the point where the camera's view originated. "METEORE" was the only thing the post read. Another one of some island having gotten hit by a stray dollop. Boats floating in a steaming alabaster ocean. So many pictures and video recordings of his first shot flying cross-continent and set on an impact course. All the while his headset kept up its distorted flurry of notifications, direct messages from people he never even talked to saying goodbye to him, his email inbox overflowing, instant messengers exploding with everyone asking what even was going on. He sighed, wiped the webcam of his laptop free and shot a photo of himself. "Sorry, just got really backed up. Probably gonna be done in a little bit, earthquakes should stop too, so y'all can stop posting about it now." He hit post and leaned back, expecting the flood of notifications to stop.

To his surprise, the opposite was the case. Almost immediately, his post got hit with a rather accusatory response. A photo of a broken home, gooey, white liquid dripping through the torn up ceiling, asking him "where are we supposed to live?" He scowled, huffing at the rude message. He reached back over to his keyboard to reply "idk, where am I supposed to cum??? get a houseboat or smth" He hit send, shaking his head and tried to lean back, before the next person got up in his grill.

"BENJI STOP!" it demanded. He pushed his tongue against his front teeth with a "tsk", this random SamManta calling him by his first name even though they weren't even a mutual. "Mind your own business, SAM, not gonna let some rando tell me when I'm allowed to get off!"

"Why are you doing this..." the next one asked, accompanied by a picture showing a crowd of people standing outside, looking all distraught and pointing at the sky. The mouse shook his head. "Ever heard of BASIC NEEDS?"

"you're going to crush europe" another one replied, linking some map badly copied from some kind of news article that showed large, blue blobs over a low-resolution world map. "Yeah well, guess it's gonna be myrope then." He chuckled a little at his joke. At least he got to put these anti-masturbation moral crusaders into their place.

A picture of some white glob in the ocean, "Greenland drown!!" being the semi-coherent message accompanying it. "They'll appreciate a steamier climate. It was never that green anyway."

"you almost knocked our plane out of the sky..." - "I'll aim for you with the second shot!"

"We're gonna be crushed!" - "Don't read to much into it hon, it's not that kinda crush."

"nice cock" - "Thanks!" - "fu for dooming us tho" - "I'd say 'suck it', but guess you won't get the chance to!"

The next message wiped the grin off of his face though. "Not nearly blowing as hard as you blow in-game," from ZzGrimeDoshZz. He gritted his teeth and tried to think up a response, settling for "I hit better irl." Not a great comeback, but really, he shouldn't let the trolls get to him. He closed the tab in frustration, returning him to the starting page. All the news on there were about him too, but they seemed much more encouraging to him. He clicked on a random stream that had a neat, flashy thumbnail and pulled his headset back over his ears to listen in on what the well-dressed canid standing in front of a live feed of his cumshot approaching Europe.

"...estimate it to be several thousand times more powerful than the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs, with the amounts of liquid reaching upwards of one hundred million cubic miles, a third of the volume of the world's oceans." The camera panned to the side to show a set of very nicely-presented statistics, giving an overly detailed breakdown of just about any property of his cumshot, along with attempted comparisons to other entities or events. Unlike his dreadful in-game accomplishments, his real-life stats were top tier by a long-shot, massively exceeding just about any other quantity they tried to put up against him. The approximate area to be covered larger than any country or continent, the expected impact force stronger than any ever measured, the estimated casualties eclipsing any other event in history by several billion. With a short flicker, the numbers updated, ticking another good chunk higher than they had just been.

The reporter swallowed, inhaling and pointing his hand at a map that slid up behind him, but focusing on the timer in the corner that ticked down the seconds into the single digits, "time to impact" written above it. "I-its path has taken it across the Atlantic, with a few smaller droplets having caused some damage already." They fumbled with their tie, looking like they wanted to cower or run. 00:00:03 read the clock. "A-and is expected to make landfall, er, n-now?" They moved their hand over to the live feed, which was almost entirely white at this point. The sudden crashing noise made them almost leap across the studio.

Mountains at the horizon were ripped from the ground they stood on, being blown high into the air on chunks of jagged crust. Ravines tore open wide, the abruptly displaced mantle spewing red hot lava to the surface, only to meet with the much denser, thicker liquid that pushed it right back into the ground zero of the presently forming impact crater. For a moment, the sky became filled with a flurry of uprooted trees, buildings tossed into the air, vehicles floating almost weightlessly and many a person-shaped figure flailing wildly as the ground was torn away from under their feet, the high-pitched screeches barely audible over the deafening thoom. Then the view went white, then black.

A moment, later, it cut to a different feed, somewhere on the ocean. Staring right at a towering, white wave that only became higher and higher. The camera tilted, trying to keep the crest in view. Like a wall covering up the sun, rising through the clouds and into the heavens, until the angle was vertical. A thud, a rush, a crunch - and then nothing again.

Some base in the desert. Looking at the devastation in the distance. Molten rock blasting into the air like a gargantuan volcano going off, with an even larger rush of seed following close behind, smashing relentlessly into the crust and tearing it apart further. With a sudden shake, the camera tilted, the sandy ground abruptly turned into a vortex draining into the depths of the world. It felt a little bit queasy just look at it taking a plunge into the red-hot abyss below. The angle rotating around its own axis, a brown-furred hand reaching toward the sliver of blue skies that seemed as if they were swallowed by a maw of rocks. That was replaced by a relentless deluge of cum a moment later though, which saved the hapless camera operator from plummeting to their fiery doom and hopelessly crushed them underneath hundreds of thousands of tons of liquid instead.

Finally, it cut to a feed from space. It was like watching the waves lurch forth in slow-motion. Fiery cracks radiating out in front of the raging, white tides that followed. The entire European continent ripping apart at its seams, being turned into a red-glowing jigsaw puzzle before its pieces were disintegrated by the unstoppable might of the brunt of devastation following close behind. The masses flooding over thin strips of water with ease, a broad, pearly front moving into Africa and Asia, far eclipsing their highest mountain ranges. The white glob spread across the lands and merged them with the seas, violent waves visible all the way from up here, only further amplified by the splitting crust and shifting tectonic plates. The entire Indian subcontinent was hit by the brunt of the masses that had plunged into its oceans, snapping it off from its connection to solid land and sending its chunks onto a collision course with several Pacific islands. It was like watching a map of the world get redrawn in real-time, although really, it mostly involved whiting-out gigantic parts of it without recourse.

The presenter, pushed against the far wall as if that would get them away from the chaos to any significant degree, began to stammer, but no words actually left their quivering lips. Their eyes still fixated on the screen, they tried to form the beginnings of a sentence, clearing their throat a few times. Yet what came out was only a whisper: "w-we're officially looking at the Apocalypse."

The mouse smirked at the description. Given that he'd just wiped out most of its users, he made his triumphant return to social media. Dismissing the piled-up notifications that their authors probably wouldn't have a chance to read his responses to anyway, he waited for a moment. No replies, no accusations, no screechy direct messages. Calmly and with a smile, he amended his screen name: "BenjiiB (Official Apocalypse)." It had a pretty good ring to it.

Ding. His good mood was blown away harder than the two and a half continents just now. zZGrimeDoshZz replied. "Missed another shot, cockwomble." The attached video showed the all too imperial skyline in front of a backdrop of white walls towering miles high into the heavens, over the dark rain clouds that weren't nearly as thick as the steam rising from it. The surface tension of the cement-like, intercontinental globs of liquid keeping them from rushing down toward the stupid little island he'd somehow accidentally spared. "Hrr!" He growled in frustration through his high-pitched timbre. "FIRST SHOT'S STILL GOING, BOZO"

Spurred by the frustration, he reached down and dug his fingers into the sides of his burgeoning shaft, toes sinking into the softness of his balls. The deafening roar outright shattered his monitor. The spike of pleasure turned his vision into a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors. He felt weightless as the sheer force of his shot disintegrated the solid ground around him, adding another crater to the surface of the planet he'd just sent veering from its orbit. As he shut his eyes in bliss, the rest of the world watched the devastating blast multiply in intensity and volume hundred-fold, making more than sure that there was no chance of missing even the tiniest speck of a terrestrial target this time around.