Futanarium 1: An Erotic Short Story Bundle (11 page)

The larger, black-clad women kneeled, wriggling the fingers of her right hand slightly, almost as if about to dig into a meal, before popping open the buttons holding her pants closed. Pushing them down a little, a hairless crotch and then, only partly to Mylene’s surprise, the bottom hilt of an impressively thick cock appeared.

Anita dug her right hand into her pants, pulling her as of yet soft and flaccid shaft out of the just about loose enough pants. Her left hand lazily parted the legs of the girl lying on her back in front of her, making it possible for the larger woman to waddle in closer, on her knees.

Mylene’s heart jumped, at once starting to race and clogging up her throat as she both felt and saw the weighty, thick slab of meat smack against her dirty shirt. The black-haired woman over her exhaled contemptuously through her nostrils, reaching out to push the shirt up. She gave the fleshy log a few strokes to start off with, setting into a more furious pace to get herself going.

Veins started to bulge all along the turgid shaft as it plumped up and grew up to a full, fat nineteen inches. The black-haired woman’s hand was dwarfed as it dragged up and down on a section of the erect giant. She glanced up at the wide-eyed urchin with a cheeky smirk, giving the shaft a last stroke before moving backwards.

There were no loving kisses or waiting around, here.
 Anita wanted to fuck the hell out of the perky, slender girl. She had little hesitation as the fat head of her hefty fuckrod parted the girl’s outer lips, pushing her pelvis forward. It was an odd sight to watch the girl writhe and whine, her hands pressed against her lower stomach, as if to prevent her insides from bursting out. The black-haired rogue wrinkled her nose slightly in satisfaction, barreling further into her prize. The immense, pulsing cockhead was swallowed up by the girl’s bare, desperately clenching pussy, expanded to a point that there was barely room between her thighs for the steely shaft.

Anita paid it no heed, slam-fucking her massive cock into the shrilly screeching girl one inch at a time. The urchin’s cunt was like a much too tight glove around her pulsating shaft, twitching and dragging against her as all of those rippling, steely inches of dick were shoved carelessly in.

The rogue took a brief break from clutching the girl’s hips, pushing her pants further down. Enormous, pendulous, hairless balls swung free, ominously moving closer to the writhing, yelping girl’s shivering form.

The last few inches of cock were always the hardest to fit into someone. It was as if new room had to be found inside her victims. The remaining three inches of the colossal, meaty cockshaft bored slowly in, completing the union of the two as the huge, cum-heavy balls came to rest against the bottom of Mylene’s slightly protruding asscheeks. Anita licked her lips sloppily, reaching out to push the bulge formed up along the center of the girl’s body back into her, but found herself unable to do anything other than force gasps of pain from the urchin. She shrugged, and once again taking hold of the girl’s hips, lifting her ass slightly off the ground.

With her legs forcefully splayed open in a one-eighty degree angle, Mylene was able to reach down and plant her palms against the black cloth covering her partner’s taut stomach, pressing weakly against it. The round, massively thick tube was relentless, keeping her cunt widened absurdly around it despite the twitching and wriggling that she reflexively jerked out. It was only when the black-clad woman between her legs pulled back slowly that the farm girl received a moment of respite, her legs once again given room to sink a little closer together, the veined cockshaft sliding out of her almost halfway.

For Anita, the journey was fast approaching its apex. She gave a brief, jerking lift with her arms, giving her the fraction of a second needed to gain a better grip on the urchin’s thighs, and then barreled ahead once more, shoving the pulsing, fat futacock back in, slippery, veiny skin eaten up by the struggling girl’s clutching cunt. She wasted no time with slowly building up a rhythm. Mylene had screamed enough that someone was bound to come looking soon, and she had every intention of being gone by then.

The bulky shaft withdrew, the stretched pussy clinging to it in a needy fashion. Inhaling deeply, the black-haired woman pistoned the monstrous cock back in, bruising past the girl’s cervix and bottoming herself out completely in the urchin’s straining womb. She pulled back, repeating the feat again, and again, heedless of Mylene’s screams as she pulled back and then ferociously pounded back in, flat-out hilting her nineteen inch beast with every thrust.

Minutes passed, the girl’s body rocking and writhing, though her screams eventually died down to mere sobs, the massive distention on her stomach hammering back and forth, giving away with all possibly clarity for any possible onlookers that the dirty youngster was being repeatedly impaled on something massive.

It was clear that the remorseless pace of the fucking was taking its toll on Anita’s stamina, and it became clear even to the half-conscious Mylene what was happening when the frenzied thrusts into her aching form took on an all-consuming, blazing speed, driving the few screams remaining in her abused body out of her, to be replaced by mewling sobs.

Smacksmacksmacksmacksmack! The sound of balls and pelvises crashing against each other, suddenly, abruptly silenced as the gasping rogue’s speed fell drastically, erratically thrusting but five inches of immensely thick dick back and forth. Her balls were churning, her form tense as goopy spunk pumped from her sloshy balls and up through that enormous cockshaft, to spew directly, forcefully into the urchin’s womb.

Mylene’s back arched, her teeth gritting hard as she felt the climax flood into her defenseless core, everything inside of her awash with potent seed. She continued to twitch weakly, even though she could feel the trembling monstercock slowly but surely moving backwards, out of her, thrusting and spewing fat ropes of semen as it withdrew. The thought of pregnancy hit her, but she was too weak, only barely conscious, to fully register what the consequences of what had happened were.

The powerful ropes of spunk gradually died out, leaving only two panting women in the back-alley. Anita smirked through her gasps, taking a hold of her massive, slick shaft, pressing a finger into the wide cumvein beneath it. She carefully emptied herself, running the finger up along her shaft, squeezing out one last, thick dollop of cum, letting it drip from her tip down onto the abused, gaping mound just below.
 

The smirk persisted as the black-clad rogue hastily stuffed her deflating shaft into her trousers, getting up on somewhat shaky legs. She took a step away from the gasping girl lying on her back on the ground, then looked back, her words careless. “Y’re much too naïve for the city, shorty. Go back to where y’came.”

With that, the black-clad woman was gone, leaving only a slightly distended womb, sloshing with cum in her wake.

Precisely a year ago today, Gwenyth had disappeared from this very spot. In a village as small as hers, so small it did not even have a real name, it was noticed when someone died. Everyone talked about it. Gwenyth had not died. At least, no one had ever found her body, or even seen a single indication of that. Wolves and vultures would have left behind her bones but they were never found either.

All of this, coupled with the precise date, coalesced in Kathryn’s mind as she stood in the gathering dusk, pulling the final bucket of water out of the well. The village’s original well had dried up long ago, so they had to walk the two thousand step distance to the new well every day, sometimes several times a day. Sometimes alone and in the dark, like Kathryn was forced to do this night.

It was only five days until their summer solstice celebration, during which the unwed traditionally took special care in dressing up to find a mate. Folks from neighbouring villages attended the night of festivities as well, so for one night, her small hometown quadrupled in population. They had to build up stores of water for that. She also had to have enough for a real bath before the party.

Having turned 19 not too long ago, she did not want to go one more year without a man. Life was hard on the plains, even without superstition. She worried Gwenyth’s ghost might appear to punish her for taking water from her final resting place. But at the same time, she knew that it was silly to do so. During summer, the well was not deep enough to conceal a body and somebody else would have found her the next day. No, Gwenyth was definitely not here to haunt her.

Kathryn heard grass rustling. Just the wind, she told herself. A small breeze. She was overreacting, she told herself. The summer night was quiet after that and after a few seconds, she turned back to her work with the well. The last bucketful passed ground level. She tugged it to the side and settled it on the ground. After looking around again, she poured relatively clean water into the second and rapidly filling bucket of her yoke.

Putting the well’s bucket down, Kathryn carefully hoisted the yoke onto her shoulders. She had to get back, not worry about ghosts of friends past, or the feral elves that also made the plains their home. Not that the elves seemed to mind the human settlements much, as long as they stayed close to the foothills. She had only seen the elves once and that had been some sort of trade caravan. They had come when she was a little girl but she still remembered the tall, muscular people. So unlike the ethereal creatures she was told lived far south.

Kathryn shook her head. There was still work to do for Mrs. Rana once she got home and no time to worry about breezes and the dead. Even in a small village, people always needed socks and clothes. She was going to take over as the new seamstress once the old woman passed away, but in fact, she almost already had.

Mentally, Mrs. Rana was less and less cogent with each day that passed. Kathryn’s title of apprentice became less and less apt each day. Maybe it would help attract a nice guy, she thought. She might be short and might not have the coveted blonde hair or a rich father, but all the more reason for someone set to inherit his father’s large herd of cattle to pick her up and save her, right?

The grass whispered again. She forced herself not to look back, to instead bow her head under the weight of the yoke and trudge on. For another few steps, at least. Then the first quiet, swift footstep exploded in the silence of summer dusk. The birds had been very quiet, she vaguely realized. The yoke still weighed her down and she was unwilling to throw away the work of getting the water up just like that.

A heavy body collided with hers and the decision was taken out of her hands. She felt strong arms wrap around her before they had hit the ground, before she even knew who had attacked her. It was a who, at least. Not a wolf or an angry ghost. It was someone very large. Much larger than her, both in terms of strength and height.

Surprisingly, she did not land face first into the grassy plain but rather on her side. The large being that had charged her had also rolled in the air as it had enveloped its prey, so instead, Kathryn was clutched to someone’s body as she hit the ground, almost as if the two were spooning lovers. The yoke and two buckets had gone flying when she was tackled and crashed down a few feet ahead of where she did. The water splashed uselessly onto the grass.

Kathryn’s arms were tangled behind her and unusable for the moment. She was rolled onto her stomach very easily despite her desperate struggles and thrashing. A knee was planted against the small of her back and a large hand held over her mouth as she began to make a sound. It would have developed into a scream but it was not allowed to. Instead, the muffled cry just resonated in her mouth.

A moment later, she heard a sound that everyone, child or elder, was familiar with. The sound of a weapon being drawn from its sheath. Kathryn froze for just a second, her eyes widening, but she was held down by the much larger being on top of her.

“
Mhlease,” she managed to stammer out from under the warm digits keeping her mouth shut.

There was no verbal response but the rather submissive tone with which she had spoken seemed to calm the creature on top of her in some small way. At least, it did not move as fast anymore. Kathryn moved her arms, one aching from the fall, under her. Slowly, she began to lift her upper body off the ground. The creature allowed it, though the hand stayed over her mouth.

The cry for help had been all the sound she had tried to make. Though Kathryn was neither warrior nor negotiator, she instinctively realized that the physical battle was over and done with. Lost. It was about navigating her defeat to a safe place now. She tried to turn her head but the hand prevented her. She only got a glimpse of healthily tanned arms with strange, jagged red patterns painted onto them. Tribal. Where had she seen those before?

As it turned out, the reason her attacker had agreed to her raising her upper body was what came next. The weapon that had been drawn was not intended for killing or mutilation, but intimidation. Coercion. The edge of a serrated, ceremonial-looking dagger came to rest very gently against her throat. Kathryn could not remember ever having tried so hard to remain completely frozen in place. She held her breath and her eyes rolled in a feeble attempt to look in the impossible direction, as if seeing the knife against her skin would somehow help.

Slowly, the pressure of the knee against her back was relaxed. It was unnecessary now, of course. The prey took care of keeping still all on its own. The hand over her mouth was moved and instead took a hold of her long, brown locks. She was tugged upwards. The pressure was determined but it was not a yank. It was uncomfortable but she had endured far worse. Was she being taken captive? Would her attacker have cared to treat her like this if not?