Have you ever seen the homunculus man? Maybe you’ve glimpsed him on the shelf of an old-world
Have you ever seen the homunculus man? Maybe you’ve glimpsed him on the shelf of an old-world museum. The cortical homunculus, that gawking sense map of the human mind with his distended lips and tongue, those bulging eyes, his gigantic hands grasping out as if to touch the world beyond his glass cage. If an enterprising researcher were to create a homunculus pillow girl, what do you imagine she might look like? She’d still have tongue to taste, and eyes to see, and hands to feel. But what of her breasts? What of those parts of her not just swollen in size, but threaded with new nerves and sensation? Our homunculus girl who gasps and blushes with even the slightest brush of fingers across her titanic chest; who, just by sliding hard nipples across the fabric of a bra, can taste the pheromones of previous wearers; whose world is racked daily by boob-juddering orgasms; and who is satisfied by nothing more than the gasping thud of cock through cleavage.How could her breasts not dominate her? Our homunculus girl with boobs so big there’s no longer room for anything else. Her turgid nipples scraping against museum glass as she suffocates in a maze of her own overgrown tits.To our minds, pillow girls seem obsessed. We wonder how loving wives and proud mothers could become the type of person who would demolish husband and son under the pounding of their breasts. But to understand them, we must understand boobs as more than just pseudo-sex organs. They are sense organs. She is a blind woman now “blessed” with sight. And her titfucking as necessary as blinking for the homunculus girl trapped inside. -- source link
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