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3637637959a0d560d201accc49bd8ce4
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hatsune miku directed by gridanon
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Description

You could probably gen this whole concert within a century or so!

Alts: https://imgbox.com/g/PEyC7VgEqz

Song from Soundverse: https://files.catbox.moe/fkzsup.mp3 / https://files.catbox.moe/8vehu2.mp3

Tech Talk

I used NovelAI's unlimited gen membership for $25 a month. Note that "unlimited" is kind of a lie, it's only unlimited if you're under a certain resolution and only if you're not using any of the advanced features. Upscaling and other features cost the on-site currency, which the membership gets you 10000 a month. That should be more than enough for a month, but you can burn through it quickly since NAI gens so quickly.

AI Story - Sold Out Show

The roar of the packed stadium was a living thing, eighty thousand voices crashing like thunder under the pulsing strobes of a hundred spotlights, the air thick with the mingled scents of sweat, popcorn, cheap beer, and the electric ozone of overdriven speakers. On the massive LED screens flanking the stage, holographic fireworks exploded in turquoise and pink, spelling out her name in glittering kanji and English: MOUSE MIKU LIVE WORLD TOUR – “BIG DICK ANTHEM” NIGHT. The crowd chanted her name in waves that made the floorboards vibrate beneath the reinforced stage. She was the main event, the eternal virtual idol reimagined tonight as a living, breathing, hyper-curvy anthro mouse girl, her turquoise twintails whipping like banners, massive pink ears twitching with every bass drop, her body poured into a scandalously shredded version of her classic outfit—black micro-skirt hiked up to her waist, glossy teal platform boots laced to her thick thighs, white cropped top stretched obscenely over her heaving, milk-heavy breasts, nipples already stiff and poking through the thin fabric.

Mouse Miku gripped the microphone stand with both gloved hands, her long pink mouse tail lashing excitedly behind her as the beat dropped—a filthy, slowed-down remix of that legendary 1992 bassline, the same thumping rhythm that had once made the world obsessed with big butts, now twisted into something far filthier. She bounced on her heels, making her enormous white-furred ass cheeks clap together audibly, the motion sending ripples through her plush body. The crowd lost it, phones held high, thousands of lights turning the arena into a galaxy of desire.

Then the stage lights dimmed to a deep violet, and he emerged from the shadows behind her like a god of raw masculinity: the colossal anthro stallion, nine feet of rippling chestnut muscle, black mane cascading down his broad neck, hooves the size of dinner plates thudding against the reinforced platform. His cock was already half-hard, swinging like a third leg between his tree-trunk thighs, the medial ring glistening, the flared head flaring wider with every heartbeat, veins pulsing visibly along its impossible length. His balls hung heavy and swollen, each one bigger than a grapefruit, swaying with a dense, musky weight that filled the front rows with the thick, animal scent of pure stallion rut. The crowd screamed louder, a frenzy of lust and awe.

Miku spun on her heel, eyes sparkling with mischievous hunger, and pressed her back against his towering abs. His massive hands—each finger thicker than her wrist—slid down her sides, cupping her huge breasts and squeezing until milk-white droplets beaded at her nipples. She moaned into the mic, voice breathy and idol-sweet yet dripping with filth: “Are you ready for the real show, everyone? Tonight… I’m singing for something even better than butts.”

The beat hit harder. She arched her back, grinding her soaked pussy lips against the underside of that monstrous horse cock as it rose between her thighs, the shaft so thick it parted her ass cheeks like a hotdog in a bun. The head alone was wider than her fist, already drooling thick ropes of clear pre that splattered across the stage floor with audible wet plaps. She lifted one leg high, boot heel hooking behind his hip, spreading herself obscenely for the cameras that zoomed in on the massive screens above—millions watching live across the planet, billions more streaming.

Then she sang it, just once, loud and clear, the parody hook exploding over the speakers in her signature sugary tone turned pornographic:

♪ “I LIKE BIG DICKS AND I CANNOT LIE!” ♪

The crowd detonated. She repeated the second line only once more, voice cracking into a moan as the stallion’s flared tip kissed her dripping entrance:

♪ “You other brothers can’t de-NYYY—ahhh!” ♪

That was all the lyrics she needed. The rest was pure action.

With a guttural snort that vibrated through her entire body, the stallion gripped her tiny waist—his hands easily encircling it completely—and lifted her like she weighed nothing. Her legs kicked once in the air before he slammed her down onto his cock. The stretch was immediate, obscene, mind-melting. Her pink, puffy mouse pussy lips parted impossibly wide around the flared head, the wet *schlurp* of penetration echoing through the arena mics as inch after veiny inch disappeared inside her. Her belly visibly bulged outward in the shape of his shaft, the outline rippling under her white fur all the way up to her ribs. She screamed in pure ecstasy, tongue lolling, eyes crossing instantly into full ahegao, drool flying from her open mouth as her inner walls clenched and fluttered around the invasion.

“Fuuuuck yes—deeper, stud! Ruin this little mouse idol pussy in front of everyone!” she wailed, voice amplified to every corner of the stadium and every screen worldwide. The horse growled, hips snapping upward, driving another foot of thick horse meat into her until his heavy balls slapped wetly against her dangling thighs. The impact made her massive ass cheeks ripple like jelly, her tail thrashing wildly. Every thrust produced a filthy, rhythmic *SQUELCH-SQUELCH-SQUELCH*, her juices squirting out in messy arcs with each withdrawal, splattering the stage and the front-row fans who cheered like it was holy water.

The scent was overwhelming—her sweet, strawberry-laced mouse arousal mixed with his heavy, musky stallion rut, thick enough to taste on the back of the throat. The crowd could smell it through the air vents; phones captured every glistening drop. Miku’s breasts bounced violently, milk spraying from her nipples in thin white streams that painted his forearms. She reached back, grabbing his mane, yanking his snout down so she could shove her tongue into his mouth in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss while he fucked her senseless.

“Feel that, baby? That’s millions watching your guts rearrange around my cock,” the stallion rumbled against her lips, voice a deep bass that vibrated straight to her clit. “Gonna flood this tiny cunt until you’re leaking for days.”

“Yes—yes—breed me on stage! Make me your cum-dump idol!” she squealed, legs locked around his waist, boots digging into his flanks. The thrusts grew brutal, piston-fast, the wet slap of his balls against her soaked fur echoing like gunshots. Her pussy gushed continuously now, a constant waterfall of clear girl-cum raining down his shaft and pooling between his hooves. The bulge in her stomach punched upward with every plunge, distorting her belly button outward, the head of his cock visibly kissing the underside of her breasts from the inside.

She came the first time without warning— a shattering orgasm that made her whole body seize, ears flattening, tail straightening like a rod. “Cumming—cumming so hard—aaahhh!” Her pussy clamped down like a vice, milking his shaft, but he didn’t slow. He just growled and hammered harder, forcing her through it, extending the climax until her eyes rolled back completely and her tongue hung limp.

But that was only the warmup.

The stallion shifted his grip, flipping her around mid-air into a full nelson carry-fuck—her back against his chest, legs spread obscenely wide, boots pointing at the ceiling, every intimate detail broadcast on the jumbotrons. His cock speared upward into her from below, rearranging her organs with every savage upward thrust. Her massive breasts jiggled hypnotically, milk flying in every direction. She could feel every vein, every ridge, the medial ring popping in and out of her stretched entrance with obscene wet sounds. The pressure built impossibly—her bladder, her womb, every nerve screaming in overloaded pleasure.

“Gonna—gonna squirt—can’t hold it—oh my god I’m gonna explode!” she babbled, voice hoarse and broken, spit flying. The crowd chanted “SQUIRT! SQUIRT! SQUIRT!” in perfect unison. The stallion’s balls tightened, drawing up, the flare inside her swelling even larger, locking behind her pubic bone.

Then it hit—the big climax.

With a deafening equine roar that shook the rafters, he buried himself to the hilt one final time, balls pulsing visibly as the first volcanic rope of cum erupted straight into her womb. At the exact same instant, Mouse Miku’s orgasm detonated like a thermonuclear bomb. Her eyes snapped wide, pupils blown, a silent scream frozen on her face before it tore out of her at the top of her lungs: “I’M SQUIRTING—FUUUUUUUUCK—LOOK AT MEEEEEE!”

Her pussy convulsed violently, and then the flood came. Not just a squirt—a geyser. A pressurized torrent of hot, clear girl-cum blasted out around his cock in a continuous, high-pressure arc that shot ten feet forward, drenching the stage, the front rows, the security barriers. It kept coming, wave after wave, her belly visibly contracting and expanding as her womb was pumped full of thick stallion seed at the same time. Cum and squirt mixed in a frothy white-pink explosion that rained down on the screaming fans like a tropical storm. Her body shook uncontrollably, legs kicking, tail thrashing, breasts spraying milk in synchronized jets. The bulge in her stomach swelled even further as rope after rope of cum bloated her womb, then her intestines, until she looked nine months pregnant with horse batter. Excess seed backflowed in heavy, chunky rivers from her ruined cunt, cascading over his balls and down her thighs in obscene waterfalls.

She kept cumming for a full minute straight, vision whiting out, brain melting into pure white-hot bliss, every nerve in her body firing at once. The stallion kept pumping, grunting, filling her until her belly sloshed audibly with every thrust, until cum squirted from her mouth in little bubbles, until her pussy was a gaping, ruined, cum-farting wreck that couldn’t even close around his still-hard shaft.

Finally, with a wet *pop*, he pulled out, and the grand finale unleashed: a literal fountain of mixed cum and squirt erupted from her stretched hole like a broken fire hydrant, hosing the stage in a ten-second deluge that left her dangling limp in his arms, twitching, drooling, eyes crossed in permanent ahegao, tongue hanging, a broken, blissed-out smile on her face as the crowd chanted her name louder than they ever had before.

Mouse Miku, the eternal idol, had just been fucked to the most extreme, mind-shattering, record-breaking public orgasm in history—live, on stage, in front of millions, her body forever marked as the ultimate big-dick-loving mouse queen. And as the lights faded and the cheers thundered on, she could only whisper hoarsely into the mic one last time, voice wrecked and satisfied:

“…best… concert… ever…”

The stadium lights exploded in turquoise fireworks, and the night belonged to her—dripping, bloated, and utterly, perfectly ruined.

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