Synthetic reality: Tourist trap

by brazboy

 Hans is fascinated by sizedivergent men, but unfortunately there aren’t many of them back where he lives—and so, he decides to spend his vacations in São Paulo, the Mecca of sizedivergent culture. After crossing the equator he sees many great wonders, and experiences some of them himself.

Added: Sep 2021 Updated: 18 Sep 2021 8,159 words 1,919 views 5.0 stars (1 vote)


Hans was a simple man with simple tastes: he loved large men with big muscles and even bigger cocks. Unfortunately for him, there weren’t that many of those in his hometown—a small city in the German countryside—and so growing up he mostly had to be satisfied with pictures and videos and the odd sight of a sizedivergent men walking down the street when he travelled to the big city. Even after moving to one of the largest cities in the country, he still counted the precious few times a week when he’d see those large ubermen walking around, or inconspicuously sitting in the bus, or working at the local bakery, or waiting in the line at the supermarket. Each one of those opportunities became another cherished memory in his collection which he could access when he masturbated—that is, whenever he wasn’t watching sizedivergent porn, or, sizedivergent sports (which were almost the same thing, sometimes).

One of Hans’s happiest days was when a sizedivergent man was transferred from Italy to his office—seeing Enzo every day, walking through the hallways of the company and taking the elevator (almost filling it by himself) was amazing. Watching him in the kitchen and seeing his muscles move, almost bursting his shirt, when he tried to open the refrigeration, had occasionally made Hans come right on the spot. He became so obsessed with his coworker that he almost memorized Enzo’s schedule: when he arrived (his ass almost too big to pass through the turnstile in the entry to the company’s building), when he left for lunch, when he came back from lunch, the paths he liked to take to and from the toilet. In all honesty, Hans did feel creepy doing all that but, yet, he couldn’t stop himself—knowing his schedule meant he could maximize his proximity to Enzo. And being so close to a man that large; a man whose muscles made him wobble more so than walk, was intoxicating for him. Addictive, really.

Nonetheless, Hans never built up the courage to approach any of the sizedivergent men he saw in his daily life: he always went to the same bakery to see a large 2,5m tall man whose cock was so immense and whose balls were so productive that he had to work with a condom around his penis as to contain all his overflowing precum—but he never talked to him, preferring to ask the female assistant for help while ogling the larger man while he checked other customers. Similarly, despite always shopping at the same supermarket—the one where they had an astoundingly broad-backed and well-hung Peruvian cashier, he still never managed to actually stand in line to go through his register, instead preferring the one right next to it. In summation, Hans knew what he wanted—larger men—and yet he seemingly couldn’t get himself to approach them at home.

One winter day, however, Hans was walking down in the main street of his city—it was cold, and a gust of air blew his scarf away. He could feel his penis shrinking in his pants—he felt miserable, and he thought everyone around him must have felt the same. Then, he looked up, and he saw a big flat screen attached to the side of a building. First, it showed the temperature where he was: 0 degrees Celsius. Weirdly enough, though, then the number changed: 27 degrees Celsius, it now read—in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil! And then the temperature was replaced by other images of Rio: a man paragliding above a city nested between the blue ocean and a green mountain range; dozens of people playing footvolley at a beach right before sunset; a beautiful woman hiking near a waterfall, and then kids jumping from the fall into a natural pool. And then, suddenly—as if meaning to talk directly to him—another image showed up: a hugely muscular man running through a long linear park, passing through several palm trees: his superhuman muscles bobbing up and down as he ran, his large bulge—held together by a strong net that tied around his back—also jumping up and down with each step.

As the man ran, the camera turned 180 degrees around, showing now not him, but what he saw: a large pack of sizedivergent man running head of him—some were also fully dressed, others were shirtless, and a few were sporting large erections which they tied to their torsos so their cocks wouln’t sway around as they run. Beyond the pack of sizedivergent men, one saw the Sugarloaf Mountain, the ocean and a beach. The camera then started getting closer and closer to the Sugarloaf, until the logo appeared: “Come to Brazil,” it said.

And so, seeing that, Hans decided to take time off from work to fly to Brazil. Given his interests, however, he chose not Rio, but the Mecca of sizedivergence: São Paulo—where 1 in every 6 men were “unusually large.” His psychologist also agreed that it might be good for him to take this trip—a “shock therapy,” he had said, might “help tone down his unhealthy obsession with size.” Hans doubted that, but he was more than happy to go explore “an amount of the object of your obsession which is enough to overwhelm your senses.”

Even arriving at the assigned gate for his flight the young man could hardly contain his cock: waiting for boarding, amongst more than 300 hundred passengers, there were maybe 25 to 30 ubermen! Hans tried to adjust his cock, which rose immediately when he saw the other passengers waiting around, as his eyes moved from one hyper tall supercocked male to the next: one had a long cock covered by a cocksleeve dragging on the floor; the next, had arms so large they couldn’t stay anywhere near parallel to his broad torso, and in fact he had had to ask his friend to take his passport from his pocket as he couldn’t reach it himself; a third had a muscular butt so immense that when he moved his weight from one leg to the next it almost seemed like he was twerking.

If this was boarding his flight, imagine what the trip itself would be like!

Hans, unlike most other passengers, barely had a wink of sleep in their way down south. He did go to the toilet several times, though. In the first time he promised himself he wouldn’t jack off in such a public environment, but walking through the halls of the aircraft he saw a succession of hot ubermen sleeping, talking to other people, or just trying to keep their balls from overflowing onto other passengers. Having seen that, Hans’s cock was literally twitching by the time he got to the toilet.

Hans entered the empty toilet designed for normal-sized passengers, and lowering his paints his proud 27cm German cock flew up. Damn, was it ready! When his warm hands touched the rod, planning to bring it down so he could pee, his instincts led him to fully encircle his width with his hand, and then to start slowly stroking his shaft—from the middle up, and then back down. That action produced a wonderful feeling, and Hans’s pleasure grew when he closed his eyes and imagined the one sizedivergent steward walking around the plane with his hard cock falling on his lap “by accident.”

“Hmmm, hmmmm,” he moaned to himself, almost surprised by his own touch and by how sensitive his cock was right then, before he started really beating his meat. After a few minutes Hans would eventually come copiously inside the plane’s toilet.

He came about 5 more times during the rest of the flight—roughly once every two hours.

Having landed and left the plane, Hans was welcomed to Brazil by a huge poster which had the most famous images of the country: the statue of Christ the Redeemer, Copacabana beach, a female with a nice ass and tits playing beach volley, and an immense sizedivergent man with his cock painted in blue and red stripes dancing in the middle of the carnival parade. Hans’s cock, despite having received plenty of attention in the last few hours, immediately rose to attention under his underwear—it would have poked out of his pants had it not been for Hans’s careful intervention while he walked to customs.

Never did Hans appreciate a line more than at the immigration to enter Brazil. As he and other foreigners waited in the designated line, several Brazilians passed through the priority lines and as such he managed to watch literally a hundred sizedivergent men go by—first, they’d come from the hall towards them and he’d see their cocks and balls moving under their clothes as they walked; then, they’d walk past where he was and he’d watch their assess and broad backs walking away, hugged by tight pants and t-shirts to an almost obscene degree.

When it was finally his time to present his passport to immigration, Hans almost dropped it as he noticed the man in front of him was, himself, extremely muscular and handsome—he was most likely a sizedivergent man himself!

“Purpose of your stay?” asked the Brazilian immigration officer with a thick accent. Hans could barely answer as he handed his documents, watching the officer move his muscular arm to take the papers.

“Uh… tourism,” he finally answered, as the officer’s pecs were pressed together by his bringing his arms closer to his frame in order to type in his keyboard.

“Good. Length of stay?” asked the officer.

“27 centimeters… I mean day. 27 days,” Hans said, stumbling on his words. The officer looked at Hans, who had turned red like a tomato, and gave him a smirk. He then typed a few more things into his computed and asked Hans to pose for a picture.

“Perfect,” said the officer, before handing Hans back his documents, “Welcome to Brazil and have a nice stay,” he said.

Hans just nodded in reply, before dragging himself to luggage reclamation without really being able to forget the officer’s pecs jutting forwards when he brought his arms together. His cock throbbed again at the thought.

“This is going to be a hard trip,” Hans thought to himself.

Hans left luggage reclamation to enter the main hall of the airport. Passing through the sliding doors was like seeing a brave new world open in front of him: he saw several largish and extra-large men and women walking around, amid more normal sized people who seemed to not mind them as they went on their way to wherever they were going. Facing the exit from international arrivals, Hans saw a huge screen advertising several products. It said something in Portuguese and showed the image of a large sizedivergent man walking, his dick dripping a stream of precum over the street as he crossed the screen, and a city clerk passing and cleaning the ground behind him—the text then shifted to English: “Don’t be a drain on others: drain yourself at CUMSA,” and then the name of an app and a list of addresses appeared.

Shocked at the display, Hans looked to the side and saw another ad directed at sizedivergent men: against a green background, the add showed three immense men, one Asian-looking, one white and one black. Each had immense muscles and a hard cock which rose vertically taller than their heads. The camera turned around the three men, as their cocks rubbed against each other and then a cock sleeve fell on each of them, covering their hardness. The ad then said something in Portuguese and showed a number: 79,99. The cocksleeves which were covering the hard rods of the three men then changed colors and styles several times, and each one of them smiled as they hugged their hardons before being replaced by a logo.

Ei, cara, sai da frente!” yelled a male voice behind Hans, as he had stopped in the middle of everyone’s way while watching the ads. Hans didn’t know what the man behind him had said, but he did realize he was in the wrong and getting in the way, so he simply apologized in English and moved out of the main path. Even then, he couldn’t really get his eyes off the screens.

Another screen showed the time and the temperature outside. It then changed to show the time of scheduled flights, and finally which ones were delayed or canceled. Then, the name of a travel insurance appeared in bold letters, before being replaced by a family walking in front of the Eiffel Tower. The image then changed again to a young couple walking on the Great Wall of China. Finally, the image changed once more, to three friends walking in the middle of Times Square, one of whom was about 30% taller than the others, his muscles making his presence conspicuous even in the middle of the crowd, and his large cock poking out of his shirt near his neck. Then he logo of the travel insurance appeared once more.

Hans was shocked and overwhelmed by what he saw: normalized sizedivergence. So many, just so many men bigger than even Enzo—and he thought Enzo was so large, so manly! Honestly, some of the guys walking in the airport made the cock of the cute baker back in Germany look like a worm next to these snakes. Hans tried to control his heartbeat and his breathing, as he was starting to hyperventilate. It was just… a dream come true. Only thing left was to actually get close to these immense men, but here he’d have endless opportunities for that!

Hans then moved towards the taxis stands, passing between and trying to ignore all the large ubermen around him, and also his hard cock in his pants demanding urgent attention. Finally, he got to the stands and negotiated a taxi with the old lady working there—which was hard, because she barely spoke any English and Hans didn’t know a word of Portuguese. Hans then followed the assigned driver outside and entered his car as the old man put his luggage in the trunk. As they drove away from the airport, sitting in the backseat of the half a decade old Corolla, Hans inhaled the cold AC air as deep as he could, trying to control himself.

He then looked outside, seeing the other cars the taxi driver overtook in the expressway as they left the airport. Eventually, Hans saw a crowded bus a few meters away, and he noticed that it was so full inside that people were basically rubbing against each other—including two large sizedivergent males, one of whom had his balls resting on the lap of the woman sitting on the seat in front of him, while his cock stood at attention above that row of seats, almost touching the bus’s window as it danced around following each and every movement of the bus.

Hans’s eyes widened as he saw that, and followed the bus until it took a turn to a side road.

“My God,” he thought to himself, “What the fuck is this country?”

Hans chose to stay at a hostel, not because it was cheaper (although that was a plus) but because according to the internet it was “the best place to meet new people.” Unfortunately, however, apparently the place he chose was not very popular amongst sizedivergent people, as he didn’t see any in the lobby while doing his check-in—other than the guy working at the reception desk, of course. He was about Hans’s age (maybe a year or two younger), and had thin red lips which were made more startling in contrast with his honey-colored skin; his hair was dark brown and curly. His more notorious physical aspect, however—at least from behind the reception desk—seemed to be his large upper body muscles.

“So, this is the key to the locker and the card to your room,” said the nice, smiley sizedivergent lad, handing Hans a key and a card. Hans took it while being careful to avoid touching the man’s large hand for too long. “Anything else you need, like information on tours or places to go and things to do around here, please come talk to me,” he completed. Hans smiled and thanked him for the help before going upstairs to put his stuff in his room (he had rented a single room).

After taking care of his luggage and masturbating in the shower, Hans felt clean and comfortable enough to go explore the city. He was also hungry, and needed to go grab some real food for lunch. He downloaded a map and a travel guide, and he also looked up places to eat on Google, but he ended up deciding to go grab some of the flyers he had seen earlier in the reception desk—hopefully he could also ask the handsome sizedivergent guy at the reception desk for some information as well, maybe even for some tips on nice places around the hostel.

Unfortunately, however, the guy was no longer there when Hans went to look for the maps—having been replaced by a short woman whose long hair was painted in two different colors. Hans then lost some time looking at the different flyers and maps available, some of which immediately picked his interest: “Sizedivergent São Paulo,” “Rainbow Sampa” and “No size fits all Xperience SP” were the ones which particularly grabbed his attention.

The first one, “Sizedivergent São Paulo,” was a map of São Paulo pointing out tours, museums and other places of interest for people who wanted to know more about the life of sizedivergent people in São Paulo—the cover had a normal-sized men and a sizedivergent man hugging each other and walking in front of some main tourist spots in the city. The second, “Rainbow São Paulo,” was aimed at the LGBTQ+ crowd, and showed a huge pride flag being held by a group of six or seven people, including one sizedivergent man and one sizedivergent woman. But the one Hans ended up picking up was the third, “No size fits all Xperience,” a small guidebook including a map to help navigate the sizedivergent culture, history and present of São Paulo—its cover had two sizedivergent dudes with their cocks erect pushed by their hands to the side, forming the shape of an X. Behind them stood several landmarks of the city.

“So, you are interested in sizedivergent culture?” said a deep male voice behind Hans, taking him by surprise and almost making him jump in place. It was the reception guy, standing near him, with a kind smile. Now that he was standing, rather than sitting behind the desk, Hans noticed just how tall he was—probably around 260cm. He also noticed just how big his upper muscles were, considering that the guy’s pecs not only reached well above Hans’s face, but they also cast a shadow over his head as the reception staffer approached him.

“Ah, yeah, yes. I am very interested in that, it is very interesting to me,” said Hans, a bit awkwardly. His eyes focused on the other man’s handsome face, and then down on his pecs barely hidden under his tight shirt. Hans could swear he saw the outline of the guy’s nipples, pointing down and outwards from his muscular pectorals.

The Brazilian dude, meanwhile, took the booklet Hans was holding from his hand and opened it with his two large arms, revealing a double page where one could see a map. This movement stretched his shirt and almost made Hans’s heart skip a beat—he did forget to breath for a second, though. The guy, without missing a second, swiftly put the wide map on the reception desk near them, and took a pen.

“Perfect!” he said, and then he put his hand on the open booklet, holding it in place. His muscles bulged as he did so, which further attracted Hans’s attention. “So, let me share some little secrets with you,” he completed with a smirk. “This,” he said, circling one place in the map, “is the National Museum of Sizedivergence. I highly recommend it if you are interested in sizedivergent history and culture. And this,” he circled another place—a large stadium in a park—”is the Sizedivergent Sports Arena, which is great if you are interested in sizedivergent sports as they are always holding activities there. These,” he circles about half a dozen spots near the hostel, “are sizedivergent coffee shops and bars. The ones with an M have male waiters, and the ones with F have female waiters. It can be an interesting experience to visit those. Although they are more of a treat to the eye than a real cultural experience, they do offer special dishes.”

The lad then looked back towards Hans and, seeing that he was eyeing his own large ass, he smiled and circled another three places on the map.

“And, finally, these are another kind of sizedivergent bars, in case you are more interested in meeting than being served by some of us,” he completed, and then took the pen and put it aside, taking the open booklet and handing it back to Hans. “There are many other related places and activities too, like a sizedivergent group presenting a dance show at the Municipal Theater, but I think I’ve given you enough to think about for now,” he finished, smiling.

“Oh, thanks. That’s… a lot. And it’s great! I’ll be sure to check it out!” Hans replied, taking the material. He felt a bit overwhelmed—both by the amount of things and by the close proximity to the other man’s body—but he was also very happy to have this information and that he was seeing the receptionist’s pecs and arms now so close to him.

The receptionist then smiled once more, and, raising his arm and extending it past Hans, he took a few flyers from the table which were behind the smaller man. This motion, while natural and sensible, made his pectorals jut forward, which meant that they almost touched Hans’s face and came so close to his nose and mouth that the receptionist literally felt the hot hair exhaled by the tourist’s breathing against his skin. In turn, when Hans—who lost his breath over the man’s movement—finally breathed in, his lungs were filled by the other man’s powerful scent.

“You might also be interested in these,” said the receptionist, now extending to Hans the flyers he had just taken from the desk. “These are some walking tours centered around sizedivergent culture and history. Oh, but don’t worry! They are open to everyone, and these particular ones are offered in English as well as Portuguese. We are a very welcoming community and love to see other people interested in ourselves,” he completed with a smile.

“Ah, ahahaha, I see,” responded Hans, absolutely overwhelmed. And so the smiley receptionist decided to leave him alone with his hardon, going back behind the desk to talk to the woman with the multicolored hair. While Hans slowly left the reception room to go outside, they started talking to one another. Hans would not really hear or understand their conversation, as he mindlessly walked out of the building pretty quickly, but it went a little bit like this:

“You are an angel, aren’t you, Marcos?” said the woman with the multicolored hair in Portuguese, her commented dripping with sarcasm. “As soon as a nice blond and blue-eyed gringo appears and takes a glance at the flyers on sizedivergence you strategically placed closest to the phone, you intervene and list them half the places where they can end up drenched in cum around here.”

Marcos laughed, his pecs going up and down, back and forth as he did so.

“I like to be helpful,” he said, with a smirk, “You know me Eliza, I like to give them what they want.” She rolled her eyes at the comment, but she was actually smiling as he passed behind her and his big ass arms rubbed against her back due to a sheer lack of space.

“Going back to lunch, already? I thought you had finished eating already and were coming back to help me at the front desk,” she teased him. He looked back towards her and pouted.

“Oh, poor Eliza. So sad that she’ll have to work the lunch shift and welcome the ten Russians who are scheduled to arrive at 12:45. I’ll pray for you,” he mocked, before disappearing behind the door to the staff’s room, leaving her alone at the reception desk. Eliza laughed a bit bitterly at his mockery, before sighing and going back to her work in the computer. She at least hopped one of the Russians could communicate in English this time—or, at least, communicate with her English.

Hans had lunch and, having checked that he had already missed the time to join one of the walking tours, he decided to visit the National Museum of Sizedivergence. He walked to the square where it was located—in his way there he ogled many of the sizedivergent men in suits walking around downtown, even if he tried not to look too hard at them. He particularly noticed a sizedivergent man talking on a cellphone while sitting on a bench, his bulge so close to touching the ground bellow that it almost bothered him, especially as it moved up and down as he talked. Another one who attracted his attention was a large man who was eating a hamburger with his left hand while walking, because he had to use his right hand to push his throbbing erection (barely hidden under his cocksleeve) to the side.

After getting a little bit lost in the streets of São Paulo, Hans did finally find the large brutalist-style building of the museum—he crossed the square in front of it, seeing several groups of normal-sized and sizedivergent people hanging around the area—some were skating, some were eating as they sat in a circle, others just were talking and having fun. Hans did spend a moment watching the sizedivergent skateboarders doing maneuvers with their erect cocks tied to their torso in order to keep their center of gravity stable. Soon, however, he went to the ticket office and purchased a day pass for the museum, and ended up deciding to wait a few minutes for a guided tour instead of exploring the large space by himself.

A small group formed as other people arrived and waited to join the same tour as Hans: three women, five men—two of whom were sizedivergent men—and himself. Looking at them, they seemed to have come in four groups: the two sizedivergent men were talking to one of the normal-sized women and one of the normal-sized men; there was also a straight couple which appeared to be from Argentina, and the other man and woman seemed to be by themselves.

While he waited, Hans kept glancing at the sizedivergent guys, who were laughing and smiling as they spoke in English to their two normal-sized fellows. He eventually got approached by the normal-sized man who was alone, however, and they ended up starting a conversation where they both revealed their interest in sizedivergence, and also that they both had chosen to come to Brazil in part due to that.

“Where I am from, in Hong Kong, there are very few sizedivergent people. It is weird that, when you look down at the numbers, it all seems to revolve around Brazil—and even in Brazil, it sizedivergency seems centered in São Paulo. It is so random that it is almost like magic,” said the other guy, who introduced himself as Wang Haoran. Hans actually laughed at his remark.

“It’s really odd—the regions of Germany that sent more immigrants to Brazil back in the days coincidentally do have a higher rate of sizedivergence. But, I mean, it’s more likely that people who were larger chose to go to Brazil in a larger proportion than that people whose descendants would go to Brazil had evolved to be larger in the first place, right?” Hans joked, and Wang Haoran smiled in agreement.

“So, how long have you been in Brazil?” Haoran asked, and Hans sighed.

“Only a few hours. This is the first place I actually visit here, you?” he replied, before Haoran’s face brightened in excitement.

“Wow, really? I have been here for a week at least and it has been great. You have to try this place… it’s a coffee shop, really close to here. They offer a varied selection of male tit milk—it can be a little expensive, but they have like 3-day-no-cum and even 1-week-no-cum milk, which is like extremally thick and the taste is super strong,” Haoran said, before lowering his voice a little. “They’ll even let you milk them yourself, it’s super hot,” Haoran said, and then he blushed, before correcting himself, “Oh… I mean, the milk comes out super-hot from their pecs, not that it is, hmmmm, hot to milk them. Sorry for that, it’s just that English isn’t my first language.”

Hans’s mouth got dry thinking of what Haoran had said, and he suddenly imagined himself not only stroking a large pec and milking a man’s nipple, but actually suckling from it. Regardless, Hans didn’t want to reveal his true feelings out loud, so he just laughed it off.

After a few minutes, they were all called by the English-language guide, who was a 270-plus centimeters tall dark-skinned man. He was wearing the museum’s uniform, which fit him very tightly, and he made them form a circle more or less around him.

“Hello everyone,” he said, with a smile, “Welcome to the National Museum of Sizedivergence. My name is Carlos and I’ll be guiding you today. I see we are in… seven, eight, nine! And two of you are sizedivergent too! If you guys don’t mind, please introduce yourselves and tell us if this is your first time coming to our museum?” Carlos asked, looking to everyone and no one in particular.

The first to answer was one of the sizedivergent men. The shorter one, who also had the largest bulge:

“Hello, I’m Júlio from Brazil and I’m here with Paulo, John and my girlfriend, Hannah. Paulo and I live here in São Paulo and we just wanted to show our foreign friends a little bit more of our culture,” he explained, pointing to one of the girls and one of the normal-sized men closer to them as he spoke. Carlos nodded, and as he did so his bulge bounced up and down.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” added the other, larger sizedivergent guy, who was also more muscular and whose bulge seemed a little more tightly held. Unlike his friend, who kept his soft dick snaking around his balls, Paulo kept his in a denim cocksleeve which matched his pants and at the moment laid on top of his balls.

“Great!” Carlos exclaimed. “What about the rest of you?” he asked, now basically looking at Hans. Before Hans could say anything, however, Haoran interjected and introduced himself, after which Hans and the other did the same. After all introductions, Carlos called the group to move to another space and started moving, walking ahead of the rest of them as they followed him into the first exposition.

“So, welcome everyone, our tour takes about two hours in total and I hope you guys have fun during our visit. We will explore several sides of sizedivergence today: culture, history, biology, and society. There is a little bit for everyone here, including immersive experiences for those who want to partake in those kinds of activities. But before that, are there any of these topics you guys are particularly interested on?” he asked, and one hand stood up.

It was one of the two larger sizedivergent men in our group, Paulo.

“Biology, definitely,” he responded, and everyone laughed, even if Hans blushed. Haoran, who was right next to Hans, moistened his dry lips with his tongue. Carlos smiled.

“That is certainly one of the most popular parts of our tour!” he said, and then we crossed into a large room filled with art featuring sizedivergent folks, “But first some history! Sizedivergence has existed ever since homo sapiens developed as a species. However, for reasons which science doesn’t fully understand, it became a more common trait in South America, Western Europe and Western Africa more or less independently, and it spread from those three regions to most of the rest of the world. That’s why these places have the largest concentrations of sizedivergent folks in the world, although there are also pockets of higher concentration of sizedivergency in Japan and Syria and a few other places. Brazil, coincidentally having received immigration waves from all regions of the world with the highest concentration of sizedivergents, ended up having the largest proportion and absolute number of sizedivergent people in the world—while for the whole world only 1 in every 35 people are sizedivergent, in Brazil that’s one in every 7; so, as it turns out, 30 million of the world’s 200 million sizedivergent people live in our country! As such, as we can see in these works of arts here, sizedivergence has been present in our culture since before the colonial era, and it has always been a mark of Brazil,” Carlos explained.

We then took time to appreciate some of the art pieces around us: a few particularly caught Hans’s eye.

One was a large full-body portrait of naked sizedivergent white man wearing in a veranda. His cock was hard, and precum dribbled from it—as it flowed down his cock, it was collected in a large bowl which was held by a normal-sized slave, who was wearing very simple clothes. Apparently, according to Carlos, penis size was considered by some to be a lowly trait associated with slaves and serfs, but was found by others to be useful in controlling those very same oppressed peoples.

Another painting showed a church, in front of which a family walked: the father ahead of them all. He was dressed in fancy clothing typical of the colonial times, including his cock which was soft and covered by a long cocksleeve. It was being carried by a pair of slaves behind him, so it wouldn’t ever touch the dirty ground. After that you saw the mother, who was completely covered in a dark Iberian-style dress. Then came the three children: one, the young master, was the tallest of them all. He was a fully developed adult, probably around 21 or 22, and he was dressing similarly to his father, only in lighter colors—his muscles bulged a lot more, though, and the fabric he wore had trouble containing all of him. His cock was also hard, and was only kept hidden due to a huge white sheet which seemed to stick to his wet cockhead. His balls almost dragged on the ground, but he wore a net bellow them which attached around his neck so they would hover above the dirt. Behind him there were two children—one boy and a girl, both dressed in typical clothes.

The third most impressive painting was called “white honey,” and it showed three Portuguese sailors fully naked, strapped by their wrists in the deck of a large Portuguese carrack—each one of them was more muscular than the next, and all nooks and crannies of their muscles were illuminated by the radiant sun above them. But what was really breath-taking was the size of their cocks and nuts, which varied in color between white, golden and purple—their angry veins seemingly close to bursting. Their rods were hard and angry, and seemed to point towards the observer even as they released large amounts of precum; in a sense, their slits were like Mona Lisa’s smile: you couldn’t run away from them no matter where you were in the room. Their balls, however, were immense and rested on the deck, between their equally large legs, which were wide open. The three sizedivergent sailors were each being milked by a pair of other normal-sized sailors, who were also naked and used their whole upper body to masturbate their immense lengths. At the same time, one other sailor was sucking from the right nipple of the largest of the sizedivergent men, whose mouth was contorted in pleasure.

“This is one of my favorite paintings in our collection,” said Carlos to me, “It shows sizedivergent men being milked during the era of Great Navigations. You know, some people think that because of our size we haven’t really partaken in the great endeavors of human history when we fact we were always there. One of the advantages the Spanish and Portuguese had when colonizing the Americas, for example, was using sizedivergent men as an extra source of fresh and nutritious drink, which allowed their sailors to be healthier than those of other countries. Of course, that’s just one example, but I think it is an illustrative one,” he completed.

Hans’s eyes moved from the painting towards that immense man right next to him, and for a second he just appreciated Carlos’s profile as he looked at the painting—noting, for example, how far ahead of his spine Carlos’s pecs went, and how meaty they were in comparison to his much tighter abs. In every sense, Carlos reminded Hans of one of the tree sailors in the picture: the one in the far left, whose thick lips were wide open—you could almost hear him crying in pleasure. Even as Hans was lost in his imagination, however, the world continued turning, and eventually Carlos turned to Hans and smiled, as he had caught him staring.

“Any questions?” the guide asked, and Hans barely listened, but Haoran, who was next to him, nodded.

“Oh, yes, and what about that picture?” he asked, pointing to the biggest painting hanging in that room, covering some 6x3 meters. It showed a huge crowd of people: in the right, there was an African court, including the King sitting on a large, elevated throne. In the left, one could see a smaller group of European men, led by a captain wearing full military armor who was kneeling bellow the African monarch. In the back, one could see the Portuguese carracks which had brought the Portuguese group to the kingdom of Congo.

“Ah, this is an interesting one,” said Carlos, walking between Hans and the large frame of the painting, “It shows the Portuguese sailor Vasco da Gama—you see him here, kneeling before the king of the Congo—stopping in Africa in his way to the Indies. You see he is kissing the King’s relaxed penis, which falls graciously from his throne, over his scrotum, until it barely touches this golden bowl at the bottom? That is him paying his respects to the King. Many people don’t know, but the Portuguese made several allies in Africa, including the Kingdom of the Congo, when in their way across the continent.”

Another one of the sizedivergent men in our group approached Hans, Haoran and Carlos, getting so close to the German man that he almost felt overshadowed by the two muscular studs around him.

“That’s interesting,” said the Paulo, the muscle stud. He had his right hand on his hip and his left hand adjusting his sizeable soft cock, which was at about the same height as Hans’s abs. “And who is this guy just behind the King? This one with his large penis basically fully erect and decorated with several colorful fabrics and golden cock rings?” he asked. Carlos looked again towards the large painting, identifying the figure—he was embarrassed to say, but under a first inspection he had mistaken the large hard black cock for a wooden pillar.

“Oh, well, that’s the King’s oldest son. He’d be maybe about 24 or 25 years old at this time. It was not costumery for other men to get a hardon in the presence of the King, but it was allowed and even expected of him, the heir to the throne, as a show of virility,” Carlos explained.

“I see. And would only Vasco da Gama kiss the King’s cock, or would his underlings also do it?” Haoran asked, and Carlos shook his head.

“Only Vasco da Gama. The King’s cock was something highly regarded, and as such even being demanded to kiss it was a sign of the King acknowledging Vasco da Gama as a nobleman, and therefore accepting the King of Portugal, who was the suzerain of the captain, as his own equal. If the sailors also did the same, then the King would be degrading himself to a lower level,” Carlos explained, before he and Paulo walked away to talk about other pieces.

Hans, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off that scene for a while: Vasco da Gama kneeling and kissing the King’s royal rod. Squinting his eyes, he thought he could see a tongue there, extending past Vasco da Gama’s lips, going for the majestic noble red cockhead. Hans’s cock throbbed at the thought, before he moved on to the next part of the exhibition.

The group entered another part of the museum, this one more focused around the biology of sizedivergent people. In the center of the gallery, one could see an anatomically correct statue of a sizedivergent man and a sizedivergent women, both incredibly large: the man was a bit more than three and a half meters tall, while the woman was around three meters in height. According to the sign to the side of the statues, they represented two real people who had been particularly important in the history of studying sizedivergent anatomy.

“They were both very significant not only because they were large, but also because they were studied by doctor Josiel da Silva, who was himself half sizedivergent, and he documented their bodies in an extremally detailed fashion. These documents then made their way to Europe and were very foundational in sizedivergent medicine by laying the foundations of the notion that the sizedivergent body has to be studied on its own merit, rather than just as an extension of the normal-sized body. For example, look at the man’s soft penis. He’d never have enough blood in his body to get an erection, normally, and yet that happens all the time with sizedivergent men. Only after Josiel da Silva’s study did we understand that sizedivergent men’s penises get hard by diluting blood, which is unique amongst human males,” Carlos explained.

The sculptures in the center of the room did attract Hans’s attention, as he could go and touch them, and being so close to the reproduction of the perfect male form made him realize how puny he was next to a sizedivergent man—his waist was probably not only smaller than the sculpture’s arms and cock, but possibly smaller even than its neck! However, soon his attention moved towards a video playing in one corner of the room—it showed a muscular sizedivergent male laying with his torso on top of his hard cock, which itself rested on the floor. The man had his balls behind him, and his legs firmly planted on the floor.

The man stayed a few seconds in that position, apparently enjoying the smell and warmth of his hardon, but then, suddenly, he used his arms to try to hug his hardon (which he could do only partially). When he was satisfied by how much manhood he was embracing, he used his legs to move his whole body back and forwards, using his torso and the floor as the fulcrum with which to rub his length against.

After a few minutes of that going on, the man’s cock trembles and his balls contract—enormous amounts of semen then leave his cock’s mouth. The camera then moves to a bird’s-eye position, allowing the viewer to see how far each successive shot had landed from the meat missile-shaped organ. After that, the video records the distance of the first ten shots and adds them up, showing a total sum of over a kilometer and a half of “distance covered.” Then the camera changed again and showed a measure of the volume delivered: 367 liters. A text then appeared, in English, “While this is an above average production, it is by no means unusual. About 25% of sizedivergent men cum more than this specimen under the same conditions.” As the text disappeared, the “specimen” was panting on top of his own softening genitalia.

Hans’s cock was hard as he watched that, but soon he noticed that the dicks of the two sizedivergent men of their group were also getting chubbier. One, because he was looking at a similar video of a sizedivergent woman having her tits milked on the other side of the room; the other, because he was standing just behind Hans, watching the very same video as him.

Once he realized Hans’s eye had moved from the video towards him, the sizedivergent man coughed.

“I’m sorry, I might need to be drained soon,” Paulo said to Hans with a smile. Hans’s eyes opened up in surprise, but also delight. He had seen many videos of ubermen being drained, but he had never heard it being referred to in real life—that is, outside of the internet.

“Really? Do you do it often?” he asked, and the guy seemed to think for a while, before nodding.

“Twice a day, at least. Sometimes three times. But that’s because I’m not a big cummer, to be honest. Not in comparison to some of the other guys,” Paulo informed Hans, whose cock at this point was throbbing under his pants. Carlos then comes between them, and lets them know that there were facilities for people to relief themselves if need be.

“Although we don’t segregate by size here—if you want to be drained you can both take the hallway and go to the second room to the left,” said Carlos, pointing towards the way, “We won’t wait for you but you can catch up to us in the next part of the exhibit, which is the cultural section.”

Hans didn’t know very well what to do—he thought, obviously, that the draining room was for sizedivergent guys only. Surprisingly, however, once Carlos left him and Paulo by themselves once more (he went to explain something else to Haoran), Paulo smiled at Hans and said:

“So, do you want to go there? You are a foreigner, right? Given that and… your size, I imagine you don’t have much experience with other men being drained or with draining yourself, but I can show you how it works,” he said, and Hans spurted a sly smile.

“Oh, that’d be great. But wouldn’t your boyfriend disapprove of it?” he asked, pointing to John—the normal-sized guy who had come with Paulo, Hannah and Júlio. Paulo coughed.

“No, he is just a friend. And more of a friend of Hannah’s than of mine, anyway,” he said, moving his body away from Hans’s, but then finally looking directly at his face, even if it was lower than his pecs. “So, what do you say?” he offered once more.

Hans blinked—his palms got wet and he was nervous. But he was not about to waste what could be a once in a lifetime opportunity. And so, he nodded, and followed Paulo to the hallway and to the draining room. As he left the exposition on sizedivergent anatomy, he looked back to their group and only noticed Haoran’s side eying him and smiling, before he turned his face back forward, his vision concentrated on Paulo’s large ass which moved up and down, left and right in his pants—almost ripping them as he walked.

Update posts:
Weekly Update: 11 September 2021Weekly Update: 18 September 2021Weekly Update: 25 September 2021

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