Soccer in a Man’s World: Men vs Women Chapter 2

Halftime begins with all the female players remaining on the pitch lining up in a single row, bending over clear plastic buckets while the male players stand behind them. Because it is Milking Time.

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Chapter 2: Men vs Women: Halftime


Halftime in the Champions Cup isn’t designed for resting but for maximum entertainment. All the female players remaining on the pitch line up in a single row, bending over clear plastic buckets while the male players stand behind them. Because it is Milking Time.

Each female player is required to fill her bucket up to a certain point marked by a red line. Those who fail to provide enough milk would be marked as public urinals for every man on the field. And public urinals can not be subbed out. Therefore, they have to relieve the men for the rest of the match.

Each player from the Blue Devil is tasked with milking one cow from the Red Phoenix. And because it’s a general consensus that copulation helps milk production. Each cow will have a penis providing comfort and encouragement for the entire duration of the milking process. The male players get to decide among themselves who they want to pair with, but in general, the defenders would pair with forwards, the midfielders with midfielders, and especially the goalkeeper would pair with the striker. In short, each girl would be at the mercy of her direct enemy on the pitch.


Toni Silverback Hoddle whispers into Wendy’s ear from behind as his impossible hardness presses on her bandaged vulva. “Do you know why I picked you? Because none of my brothers want your loose cunt. No whores recover after Toni. After I’m done, you’ll be my baggy cock sleeve. You’ll beg for my cock because no one else can satisfy you anymore.”

“Ah!” Wendy’s eyes widen in horror when Toni yanks off the bandage, effectively waxing both her clit and vulva in one fell swoop. Her knees feel weak as his colossal snake slowly stretches her from the inside. She can feel every contour of his penis shaping her vagina.

Toni stops when his spearhead hits her womb and takes pleasure from her trembling around his mighty manhood. “You’ll never wear panties again because your pussy’ll be spilling out of the bottom. Your cunt meat will be sliding between your thighs. You’ll come from just squeezing your prolapsed pussy.”

Wendy’s heart skips a beat. Her belly bulges in the impression of his giant pole. Her loins burn with excitement. Stuffed to the brim, she has never felt so full before. So complete. Every inch of her inside is stretched to the maximum. He may be right after all.

Then, the referee appears in front of Wendy. As per custom, all referees, including one primary referee and two assistant referees, would pick the girls they want for special massages. And they pick the heavy knockers of the Red Phoenix’s midfielders. All of them possess the delectable mammaries of watermelons. Equally large and juicy.

“It’s my honor to be your masseuse, sir.” Wendy smiles and plants a soft kiss on the tip of his rock-hard prick.

“You may milk yourself.” The referee orders. “Begin!”

“Thank you, sir.” Wendy beams and eagerly gets to work. Unlike her teammates, who suffer at the rough handling of men, she can have control of her own breasts. She places her index fingers and thumbs on her nipples and points them at the referee’s stiff sword. Then, she squeezes two streams of white up and down his length, paying special attention to his fat crown. The remaining fluid from her abundant supply drips down to the clear plastic bucket. Meanwhile, Toni grabs her hips and starts slowly seesawing her in half. Within a few minutes, she is getting out of breath, panting with her tongue out, and exhausted from top to bottom. Her inner walls get stretched to their limit and have seemingly given up, letting Toni bend her organs to his will. Milk bursts out of her breasts like two broken fire hydrants, setting her nipples ablaze.

“Stick your nipple into my piss slit!” The referee roars.

“Y-y-yes, s-sir!” Wendy woozily jams her erect nipple against his urethra and shoots her milk inside his little tunnel.

“Take my load!” Instantly, the referee grabs her head and hoses her face white with his cum. Taking a breather, he wipes his member clean with her head and rests his softening shaft on her head as Toni picks up the pace.

Toni’s burly hands wring her boobs dry while churning her inside like churning butter. After each thrust, a little bit of her inner walls protrude out of her vulva.

“My cunt’s ruined! Ruined!” Wendy screams; her vagina clings to his rod, especially his fat mushroom head. Three inches of her flesh stick to the rinds of his crown, spilling out of her passage and getting stuffed right back over and over again.

“You’re my cock sleeve now!”

“Yes! Yes! I’m a cock sleeve! Cock sleeve!”

“Claim your reward, bitch!” Toni hollers, inflating her stomach with his heavy load. All her orifices give up; her mouth drools; her urine pools on the ground. He slowly extracts himself from her and grips the dangling tube of her hanging vagina.

“I’m coming!” Wendy screams herself hoarse while squirting everywhere uncontrollably.

Toni smirks and aims her flesh pipe at the bucket before letting go. His semen immediately bursts out of her passage and mixes in with her milk. He spends a few moments squatting over the bucket and stirring with his cock before making her drink the entire mixture. Her belly sags as if she is three months pregnant.


The referee looks at the two buckets in front of him and frowns at the abysmal content. “You call this milk? Not even enough to wash my mouth. Why do you even have tits?”

The striker—Danielle, and the goalie—Alyssa stand together with their heads down, ashamed. “We apologize for our pathetic boobs, sir! Please punish our boobs to your heart’s desire!”

The referee nods at his two assistants, who step forward and start slapping their knockers silly.

After each slap, with fingers spreading their twats, Danielle and Alyssa say in unison, “Thank you for educating my shameful boobs, sir!”

By the time the punishment is over, their jugs are red, raw, and swollen.

“You two will be the designated urinals for the duration of the match.” The referee stamps the image of a blue urinal on their cheeks. Next, he and two assistants take a leak into their milk bucket to make up for the abysmal content. As a result, their bellies swell bigger than any of their teammates.

(To be continued)


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