16

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 15 - Overcome

Dull clouds blotted the sun from view. Meagre streams of light broke past the blanket of grey, casting sparse rays upon the world below, leaving it a cold mess. Zoey stood at her window, dressed in a simple grey t-shirt and skirt, with her hands clasped tight on her arms. The day appeared miserable. Even the energy of her neighbour’s children was subdued as they marched toward the bus stop, stripped of their childish glee by the week. Yet her own heart fluttered and her legs shook in nervous energy.

She caught sight of her own reflection in the windowpane. No more fear. That beast would stay locked up, chained to the darkest corners of her mind, starved and meek. Whatever came at her today, she would face it. Not shirk the confrontation, but meet it. Easier said than done. A phrase which irked her the more she thought it.

Why couldn’t it be done easily? Any consequence that might befall her today couldn’t be permanent, even Gretchen wasn’t immune to the law. She was close. A flash of tit and ass and she had most cops under her skirt, trapped between her meaty thighs and doused in her pheromones. Zoey dug her nails into her skin at the glimmer of desire in her crotch. The terse string around her cock flexed.

“Later,” Zoey promised. If all went as planned, she couldn’t afford to be tardy anymore. She would float back into the flow of mundanity, away from Gretchen’s demands and hate, a feeling she reciprocated. A flash of last night snapped her into motion. She ignored the low throb in her dick and grabbed her school bag, for the first time in years.

Megan was downstairs, dressed provocatively. Don’t look, don’t look. Giving anything beyond a glance to the deadbeat encouraged her, despite that, she teased Zoey with glee. But she was left without a response as Zoey left, eyes fixed on anything but her older sister. The door muffled Megan’s demands for attention. Once outside, the younger sibling leaned into the door and heaved a sigh of relief. A smile graced her face, bright against the dreary atmosphere.

Warmth sparked to life and clashed with the weather. Her sigh turned to a gentle moan at the heat. It spread across her form, comforted and encouraged her. She could do this. Today would be different, the beast she envisioned as her fear would be concealed, no matter how it clawed at the surface. A chair scraped against the floor, likely Megan getting up to pursue her. Zoey hurried down the street, out of sight when the door opened.

The school loomed overhead. Fences surrounded it on all sides with a single break at its front, framed by two brick towers, cracked and moss covered. They each stood just shy of seven feet tall. Zoey glanced to their peaks, obscured from her diminutive view. She’d thought, in her freshman year, that she might grow tall enough to peer over them. It didn’t happen, though she could jump high enough. The idea was a fantasy now.

Zoey lowered her chin and headed for the track field. The forecast was for rain, so she wanted to get a run in while she could. The area was vacant, as she expected. Her bag dropped against a wall as she went about stretching. Five-foot or six-foot, it didn’t matter. She’s a runner, her legs would carry her further than most others, away from worry. No, not away. She didn’t want to be away. Run to it, regardless of what worried her.

“Visualise it,” Zoey said and exhaled slowly. She stepped onto the track field, between the faded lines, and fell into position. Before her, she pictured a shadowed figure, featureless and imprinted her greater fret upon it. Platinum locks formed, styled and extravagant, its shape curved out at the hips and chest. The skin turned from black to a light gold and it turned, wearing Gretchen’s face.

“Beat her,” Zoey commanded herself. The shadow adopted its own pose, sloppy in technique. She counted down in her head. 3… 2… 1… Go! Zoey launched herself forward. Her legs were tiny, no taller than Rachel’s, but her power remained. Yet the shadow sprinted ahead of her. It leapt with its longer strides, catapulting itself further and further ahead.

Why? Zoey pushed herself harder. Salty rivulets streaked down her forehead. Her muscles extended and retracted, her feet pounded into the dirt, kicking it up behind her, and her arms pumped at her sides. If she were taller, she would be moving at full speed. The scenery blurred and faded around her.

Only the shadow and ground remained. The former turned its vicious head and winked at her, its face rippled and took on a new visage, that of a fellow runner, someone she’d lost to over and over. Her imagined adversary stepped up the pace, all while its hips swayed, as tempting as it was mocking. It’s hopeless. Zoey stumbled to a stop. The world jerked back into focus and the shadow vanished with a mocking wave, once again wearing Gretchen’s face.

“Why?” Zoey repeated aloud and sank to the earth. Her balls brushed against the back of her skirt, so heavy and huge she couldn’t fit them into her boxers. Even in her imagination, she couldn’t do anything against Gretchen, let alone someone else. She slouched forward to rest her palms against the grass, legs spread and shoulders slumped in exhaustion. A glimpse of her cock greeted her.

She needed a booster of some sort. Something, anything, to distract from the despicable performance. Only one fantasy put her above Gretchen, one that would be locked in her mind for all eternity. That’s fine. She didn’t want it to be real, not yet. Zoey raised her skirt and took a peek at her member. It throbbed in greeting, aware of the desire for relief surging in her veins.

“Slacking off?”

Zoey snapped her hands down and looked around. A girl, Holly, approached her, jovial grin on her face. She was part of the track team, an underperformer despite her long, powerful legs, befitting her six-foot stature. Shameful. It befuddled Zoey how someone could ignore such a great asset, why they would choose to laze about and monologue about boys or their makeup. She turned away.

“Well, whatever,” Holly shrugged and stepped onto the track field herself. She stretched, catching Zoey’s eye as she bent down and forward, pressing her honed rear flush against her skirt. The girl’s breasts were small, but pert beneath her top, enough for someone of Zoey’s stature to get a delightful handful, “Ready for the race on Wednesday?”

“Oh shit,” Zoey groaned and stood, “I forgot.”

“Well, not like a shrimp like you’ll win or anything,” Holly giggled.

“I…” Zoey clenched her jaw, then breathed deep, “I’m not a shrimp.”

“Sure,” Holly said and leered down at her. She reached out to pet Zoey’s head.

“Stop it!” Zoey snapped and pushed the hand away. A flicker of heat warmed her belly.

“Finally got a backbone? Funny, didn’t think shrimp had any,” Holly persisted.

“I’m not a damn shrimp,” Zoey said. The warmth brightened and spread across her form. Did it always feel this good to stand up to someone? Her hands relaxed and flexed. A dull ache accompanied the heat.

“Looks like it to me,” Holly stood down to put her face level with Zoey’s.

“Well, I’m not!”

“Prove it,” Holly sneered, “What about a race?”

Zoey stiffened. All manner of responses sifted through her mind, as did the image of the shadow she’d created. She pushed all others aside and latched onto the one she most wanted, “Sure. I can’t wait to see your face when you lose to a short girl.”

“Please,” Holly rolled her ears and settled into position. Her grin turned to a confident, yet giddy expression, “One lap. Try not to choke on my dust.”

“I hope you choke on mine,” Zoey answered, again finding and clutching the response she desired. It spurned on the ember in her body.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side this morning.”

Zoey ignored her. In a few minutes, her actions would speak infinitely more refined than any sentence she could form. This wasn’t some shadow in her imagination, but a girl. One she had beaten time and again, always without trying. Even minus a foot of height, and weary from her previous run, she was certain of her victory.

“And… go!” Holly’s feet kicked off like a springboard. She took an early lead, darting ahead. Zoey huffed and pressed herself harder. The clap of shoe on dirt, the crunch of gravel and her laboured breaths, all merged into her thoughts. As always everything vanished, even Holly, leaving her in her thoughts. A place she both coveted and avoided.

It was there that she’d met the beast that dominated most of her life. Huge and vicious, furless with teeth like swords and eyes embroiled with blood. Yet it never attacked. Not how she would expect. Rather, it adored her. The terrifying monster would curl up on the lap of her mind, ever-present, like a huge dog. For so long, she had fed it with all her uncertainties.

Now her mind was empty. The beast was tucked into the furthest corners of her mind, held there by the elation of her body moving as it wished, unfazed by the weight of her existence. Stray thoughts scurried through, freed without the monster to keep them cowed. She felt good. The wind was nice. Her muscles were tired. She smelled dirt and a hint of sweat.

Holly remained ahead of her. They were moments away from the finish line. She was about to lose, in the one thing that gave her true release, to someone who didn’t care about it in the slightest. Unacceptable. Zoey had to win, she wanted to beat this girl. This isn’t a shadow, nor is it Gretchen. It’s just another girl.

Zoey grunted and pushed her muscles into next gear. Her shoes left deep imprints in the ground and replaced the ones Holly left behind. A drop of moisture fell on her head, another splashed against her foot, and a third slammed into her nose. Holly slowed to look up. The short athlete dashed forward to take the lead and trampled across the finish. She trudged to a stop and turned to face Holly.

“Well?” Zoey asked, panting as she recovered. Sweat dampened her shirt and dripped down her skin, before it bled into the raindrops. She glanced skyward, the dull clouds had gathered and let loose their captive moisture, building to a greater rainfall, and back to Holly. The other girl stared at her in shock.

“Whatever,” Holly muttered and walked away. Zoey grabbed her bag and followed, a broad smirk on her face. The warmth had dissipated, but it left a sense of serenity behind. How long had it been, since her shoulders relaxed like this, since her thoughts were empty without being on the field? The rainclouds unleashed their wrath seconds after she stepped inside. She glanced around the hallway. It looked different than it had yesterday.

It wasn’t the false lights that buzzed overhead. Nor the absence of students. Zoey shrugged, determined not to let her fears interrupt her release.

“There you are,” Rachel said.

“Hmm?” Zoey turned from her locker and looked down at her friend. Down? Yes, she was forced to look down to meet Rachel’s eyes. Her smile widened, “Hey, Rachel.”

“What’s got you all happy?” Rachel asked, returning the grin.

“Well…” the doors opened and interrupted her.

“Fuck me! Why did it have to start raining?” Mary Thomas demanded and shook her head, “Ugh, my poor hair.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dakota said and flipped her own, shorter locks, “You don’t hear Carmen complaining.” Carmen? Zoey looked to the new arrivals and there, between the former queen bee and her lackey, stood Carmen Robins. Her hair dripped from being stuck in the rain, yet it worked for her. The moisture forced her normally loose and tatty clothes to cling onto her skin, tight around her stunning form. Zoey gulped and looked away, a dull throbbing in her member. She risked a glimpse and caught the honour student’s eyes.

What was that look in them? She looked away before Zoey could decipher it further, turning to address her friends. They passed Zoey and Rachel, the short redhead glared at Carmen, before returning her attention to Zoey, who stared after the trio until they rounded a corner. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when her phone vibrated.

“It’s Gretchen. She wants us. Come on,” Rachel said.

“No,” Zoey said.

“Huh?”

“I’m not going,” Zoey shut her locker. The lock clicked into place.

“You’re not serious? You know what she’ll do.”

“I do. And I don’t care.” The warmth returned, softer than before, but it was there.

“Come on, Zoey,” Rachel insisted and grabbed her hand, frowned at it, then let go, “She’s gonna fucking rip your head off.”

“No, she won’t,” Zoey stated. Gretchen was a bitch, petty and sometimes violent, but she couldn’t do much beyond torment someone. If she attacked her, Zoey would call the cops. Simple.

“Who won’t?” The voice suited a cobra, slick and venomous, almost seductive, and curled around her. Zoey looked down the hall and saw Gretchen approach, with Ashley shuffling close behind.

“Uh,” Rachel gulped and glanced at Zoey, who had frozen. The warmth had vanished, replaced by an icy chill that crept along her spine, slow and excruciating.

“My… my sister…” Zoey said and lowered her head.

“Oh, yeah. Megan, right? I like her,” Gretchen said and leaned against a wall, “Anyway, I texted you girls, but you were taking so long, I figured I’d get you myself.” Her words dripped with disdain, as though the fact she had to find her subordinates disgusted her. It did. The fact was plain across her face.

“Sorry,” Rachel said.

“Better be,” Gretchen muttered, just loud enough for the others to hear the threat in her tone. Her voice flipped, “Anyway, we’ve got a bitch to take down.”

“Carmen again?” Zoey asked. Her lips clamped shut, sealed against any future traitorous words.

“No,” Gretchen said, “Think her name’s Jenna or something, doesn’t really matter. She’s the bitch who got us dragged to that assembly. That’s what matters.”

“What’re we going to do?” Ashley inquired, prompting an explanation.

“Whatever I want,” Gretchen giggled, a sound better associated with children running and playing, not a vengeful bitch on the warpath. They’d all seen what that meant. Jenna would leave school bruised, miserable, humiliated, and likely poorer as well. If she was lucky.

“But…” Zoey stopped at a sharp grip from Rachel. It was too late. Gretchen fixed her scowl upon the athlete and walked close, until her breasts suffocated Zoey’s smaller chest. They were close in height, only an inch separated them, but the blonde came off so much taller, like a giant or troll staring down an impertinent rodent. Zoey stepped back and Gretchen moved forward.

“What did you say?” Gretchen demanded. If she was a dog, her fangs would be bared, foaming with hunger and stalking toward the runner. Zoey’s legs twitched with the desire to run but didn’t move. She could outrun her with ease, why be scared. The girl opposite her was a lazy slut, whose only exercise came from squatting over a toilet or cock. And one rested mere centimetres from her, larger than any man Gretchen might’ve slept with.

She claimed to be a true size queen. How would she react to Zoey’s member? Flaccid, it met her knees and forced her to wear a longer skirt with her dick strapped down at an angle, such that it wouldn’t be seen. Her erection shamed anything she’d heard of. A shudder of want passed from her spine into her groin. She kept her tongue from licking her lips.

Last night, she’d stumbled on the greatest sensation she’d ever felt. A simple move in the grand scheme, but one she doubted any man could pull off. Zoey’s cock throbbed against its bonds, craving to be back inside her mouth. The acknowledgement of where it had been urged her desire on, forcing her to step away.

Her cock had been so hard. It felt like bone wrapped in silk with dozens of fingers bulging beneath, and reached from her crotch to her chin while tilted away from her. Zoey had tried to masturbate, but the length was too much. Her arms became exhausted. What option did she have? Then she put it in her mouth and changed her world.

The head alone was almost too great, though she managed. Her hands abandoned the shaft and went to her balls, then one sank lower. She had massaged one heavy ball while her right hand sought her pussy. It was soaked and ravenous, swallowing her finger after finger as she moaned and squirmed in place. Juices leaked onto her hand and thighs and bedsheets, while drool leaked down her shaft and she struggled with her cock head.

She had overheard Mary and Gretchen discussing blowjobs before and followed their advice. She bobbed her head to and fro, careful of her teeth, and used her lips to caress it. Her tongue was pressed flat by its sheer size. All thought had vanished from her mind. Pleasure illuminated every corner of her mind, forcing the beast far back. She abandoned her testicle and circled her ass.

In a moment of mindless pleasure, she slid a finger inside. The burn had hurt so good, then she came to the final knuckle and curved her digit. There, she discovered her prostate. A moment later and she came. Hard.

She swore the remnants of her orgasm lingered on her tongue. Even as Gretchen snarled at her, she tasted the faint leftovers of cum.

“Out with it! Got a better idea? Huh?” Gretchen demanded.

“I…” Zoey stammered, blinking back to the present.

Rachel stepped forward, “She…”

“Fuck off!” Gretchen turned on her, “I’m talking here.” Cowed, Rachel backed away. Zoey was alone. All other teachers and students were elsewhere, though they wouldn’t stop Gretchen, having a set of witnesses for the cops would help.

“Well?”

Zoey looked everywhere but at the venomous girl’s eyes, “It’s just…”

“What? Can’t hear you. Speak up you little piece of shit.”

“Isn’t that her?” Ashley said from behind.

Gretchen rounded on the plump girl, but stopped when she followed Ashley’s finger. At the end of the hall, Jenna and another girl walked by. The blonde’s face split into a malicious smirk, almost inhuman in how it twisted her features. She started toward Jenna, as if Zoey had faded from existence. Ashley hurried after her while Rachel and Zoey lingered.

“What were you thinking?” Rachel whispered.

“Nothing,” Zoey said. She could’ve done it then and there, surpassed that shadow, stripped it of all its power over her. A simple punch or even just running. Either would’ve done the job of freeing her from Gretchen’s hold. Instead, all she did was lose herself in her memories and cower.

“She looked ready to kill you,” Rachel said.

“I know.”

“Have you gone mad?”

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled…”

“I’m fine!” Zoey snapped. A wave of heat and coldness spread throughout her being. She blinked as the world seemed to roll around her, before it settled back into place. Her eyes turned to Rachel, who now stood on an even plane as her.

“Okay,” Rachel said and started walking. The athlete watched her before catching up.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Rachel shook her head, “About time you tried something anyway. Is my little Zoey growing a backbone?” She cooed.

“Basically,” Zoey shrugged, glad that she hadn’t damaged their friendship at least, “Didn’t work though.”

“What did you expect?” Rachel asked.

“Dunno. Success, maybe?”

Gretchen was out for blood. She strode past Jenna, heels clicking harshly against the floor, and blocked her path. Ashley, Rachel and Zoey hovered nearby. The other girl left Jenna to her fate, instantly reading the intent on Gretchen’s face. Zoey shifted from foot to foot, gaze adhered in horror to the scene as it played out before.

Jenna was a plain girl. Brunette, average height, decent curves and unnoteworthy if not for the bow in her hair. If Gretchen didn’t have access to the school files, she might’ve escaped the school without ever incurring Gretchen’s direct wrath. Sadly, reality dealt in favour of the blonde. Jenna attempted to get past, but Gretchen lashed out and grabbed her backpack.

“Where do you think you’re going, shit face?” The powerful girl sneered and turned to her cohorts, “Zoey, get over here.”

Why couldn’t she stay out of it? Zoey wanted to stand aside and pray that it might end soon, or for Gretchen to get struck by a meteor, but she couldn’t. What Gretchen wanted, she got. Without question.

“I’m going to hand you a few things. If little miss ‘goodie-two-shoes’ here does anything, you’re gonna break them,” Jenna visibly relaxed, assured that neither she or her belongings would be harmed for the moment, “Then again, if I don’t like it, just break it.”

“I don’t…”

Gretchen’s glare silenced her, still fuelled by her prior insubordination. The athlete hung her head and nodded, wincing at the chill that passed through her body. Even shrunken, she was Gretchen’s Pit Bull, owned for the sole purpose of destroying whatever she was given. Jenna tensed as her pack was opened. She said nothing. Smart move, any words would set Gretchen off, regardless of their intention.

Beg, and she would do it more. Fight back, and she would hurt you. No grey area.

“Hmm, oh hey, pretty expensive phone you’ve got here,” Gretchen sneered and pulled out a high-end cell phone, “Probably cost you a lot.”

“It was a present,” Jenna said. Big mistake, Zoey thought and glanced at Gretchen, whose cruel grin extended as she handed the device over. Jenna made a grab for it and had the air knocked from her lungs as she plummeted to the ground. The blonde sat atop Jenna’s knees and pinned her arms behind her back.

“Break it,” Gretchen ordered, staring into and past Zoey’s eyes. Her gaze grabbed the beast and dragged it to the surface. Any idea of opposition melted. If she were to refuse then Gretchen would turn on her and, at that point, she couldn’t fathom what she might do. As it stood, Zoey was surprised Gretchen was so restrained.

She tightened her grip on the phone and bent. It cracked and snapped in two after a minute of strain, all while Jenna looked on in rage, split now between both Zoey and Gretchen. The blonde reached back into the bag and rifled around.

“Bingo!” She pulled out a notebook, one with an ornate cover and elegant scrawl that read ‘Diary’. Gretchen handed it over, “Don’t tear it up yet. Read it for us.”

“Isn’t that going too…” Another glare and her voice trailed into silence.

“Don’t wanna do it, then fuck off and I’ll deal with you later. Maybe this bitch will help out with that? I mean, you did just destroy her phone.”

“Because you…”

“Shut it! Get reading.”

“I… yes,” Zoey shrank back, “Where do I start?”

“Find something about a crush or whatever. Or maybe she writes about dirty shit?” Gretchen cackled, “Do you write about fingering yourself? I bet you’re a real slut. The plain ones always are. Maybe you get off fisting your ass?” Her hand crashed down on Jenna’s rear with a resounding smack. Silence followed, broken only by Jenna’s pained whimpers.

“Oh, I think I know what I’m gonna do with you. Fuck the diary, we’re going to the gym.”

They moved to the gym storage room. Basic equipment occupied the space. Gymnastic mats, a basket of disused and deflated balls, some skipping and climbing rope. A single window stood sentry, cracked and ajar, letting the damp and chill air in. The smell of mould filled the room as it grew in the upper corners. A deep crack lined the far-right wall and drops of rain leaked through the roof.

Zoey hated this. She hated it because of herself more than anything. How could she be so weak, as to stand there and do nothing? Every other thought she had craved to escape or put an end to the scene before her, yet neither were heeded. The poor girl whimpered beneath Gretchen, whose sadistic merriment worsened with each noise. In one hand, she held a marker, in the other a pair of sharpened scissors.

Any other person would’ve kept their thoughts to themselves or joked about going through with it. Gretchen had no such filter. She set aside the marker and ran the scissors along Jenna’s shirt, severing it and her bra. The girl yelped in pain. A faint line of red formed above her belly button where Gretchen nicked her. The same had already been done to Jenna’s skirt, leaving her naked save a patch of her torn panties on her crotch.

“You,” Gretchen said as she reclaimed the marker. Jenna squirmed, arms bound over her head in rope, while her legs kicked futilely under Ashley’s body, “Are going to walk out of here. Don’t worry about that. But I need to make sure everyone knows what a stupid, little shit you are.”

Jenna released several muffled sounds, incapable of forming words around the remains of her skirt, though her intent was clear. She wanted this to stop. She was sorry. She wouldn’t do it again. Gretchen remained ignorant. To her, those sounds were pleas for help, a noise she savoured.

Zoey stood in a corner facing Gretchen. Rachel was on lookout, since the proceedings were certainly assault. Any of them could call the police. A few pictures of evidence, combined with Jenna’s testimony and Gretchen would be in deep trouble. The bitch wouldn’t even know which of them it was. Zoey dug her nails into her palm and shook.

If so, then why didn’t she do it. What was stopping her? The idea of loyalty to Gretchen was a joke in itself, if given the chance she or Rachel would gladly throw her under the bus. It wasn’t out of the hope that she might change her ways. Zoey hadn’t seen anything different to what she saw now, nothing but a vindictive slut, as it had been since they met. Only Mary had reigned her in. She was gone now, leaving Gretchen’s malice unchecked.

“Find anything good yet, Ashley?” Gretchen giggled as she scribbled on the girl.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Ashley answered.

“Wow,” she sounded genuinely impressed, “Is there a phone number?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna give him a call. Maybe he can stop by? Then you can watch,” Gretchen turned her full attention back to Jenna, whose upper body was debased in terrible words and doodles, “As I rock his fucking world.”

Jenna jerked at that. Her head lurched forward and connected with Gretchen’s chin. Zoey stared in shock as the queen bee snapped her head back into place, similarly stunned, before clenching a fist, rearing it back and letting it fly.

“Bad move, retard!” Gretchen snarled and let loose a second punch. Jenna’s nose broke and her cheeks were red and swelling, while tears streamed from her eyes.

“Stop it!” Zoey shouted. Gretchen’s fury turned on her. She stood and rushed over, fist at the ready and murder in her eyes. She swung and Zoey side-stepped, grateful for her natural athleticism. The rapid escalation to Gretchen’s behaviour meant nothing to her. Drunk or sober, Gretchen could change at the drop of a hat. Faster when her mood was already foul.

“You stupid shit! What makes you think you can say that to me?!” Gretchen demanded and grabbed at Zoey. She caught her collar and yanked close, “You’re so fucking worthless, you know that? Look, I don’t even have to hit you. You’re pathetic. You always will be. So shut the fuck up and watch like a good bitch. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take a piss later. I own you.”

What gave her the right? Bullies existed in every school, some bordered on psychopathic, but they could be controlled to some extent. For what reason did life see fit to gift this disgusting person with such freedom, to torture an innocent girl, to punch her, to claim ownership over someone? The thing about bullies, though, is that they always go too far. Someone fights back. No one had done so against Gretchen yet. No one was in as perfect a position as Zoey.

No cameras, no teachers, nothing to hold her back. Ashley wouldn’t help, and Rachel was more liable to assist her rather than Gretchen. Gretchen’s pride would keep her from letting slip how bad she was beaten. She wasn’t stronger than others. They just couldn’t do anything for fear of repercussion. None of their parents cared enough to get them into a new school, nor would they believe the stories about Gretchen.

Zoey could fulfil the student body’s wildest dream.

“That’s what I thought,” Gretchen spat, a glob landed on Zoey’s cheek, and shoved the girl away.

“You know something?” Zoey said, “I really, really hate you.” From the bottom of her heart, she did. Gretchen was the worst person she knew, not quite on the level as some people on tv, but horrible nonetheless. She matched Kim Kardashian for how shallow and terrible she was, yet, in most eyes and those of Zoey’s, she was hot. Scalding, even. The focal point of Zoey’s recent fantasies.

What she wouldn’t give to see her face covered in cum. But, for now, something thinner and crimson would suit her far better.

“Did I say you could talk?” Gretchen asked.

“Because of things like that. And this,” Zoey looked to Jenna’s bloodied face.

“What did I say?” Gretchen demanded and grabbed at her again. Zoey didn’t have any self-defence training, but she had a basic understanding of someone’s balance and how to disrupt it. She avoided the grab and kicked at Gretchen’s knee, forcing her down. Before the blonde could say anything, Zoey pushed her back and straddled her stomach. Her arm muscles tensed and rippled across her skin as they worked toward a single goal; Gretchen’s face.

The sensation of skin and bone on her fist was one Zoey hated. She’d experienced it several times before, when she was made to beat up someone Gretchen didn’t like, but this was new. It still felt awful. The way her arm vibrated on impact, the crack of bone on bone, the feeling of Gretchen’s cheek conforming around her knuckles. She could live without it, but not the absolute sense of relief and satisfaction she felt at the sight below her.

Gretchen didn’t move, stunned into submission. But it wouldn’t last.

Run. The thought finally reached Zoey’s nerves as she raced from the room. Rachel blurred past, before she was pushed away by Gretchen. Zoey was long gone, though. She found her class, where she should’ve been since that morning. How long had Gretchen kept her? She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. So long as she had a place with witnesses, the blonde couldn’t do too much.

“It’s her!” Someone yelled. Zoey glanced to the source and saw Holly, sat atop her table surrounded by classmates. The teacher had a pair of headphones on, music blaring to mask the vapid conversations of the class as they read a book. All students turned their attention on Zoey, eyes boring into her skirt. One squinted, another tilted her head, as if trying to decipher a Rorschach Test.

“I don’t see it,” Another girl said.

“Hold on,” Holly said and strode up to Zoey.

“What’s…” Her skirt was flipped up. A gasp echoed through the room in a wave, before laughter roared to life.

“Told you!” Holly chortled above the others. Their joy caught the teacher’s attention, who turned to see Zoey shove her skirt into place.

Zoey didn’t stay to hear anything else. She fled into the hall, away from the gym and classroom, from the haunting laughs. Then she stopped and peered into another room. It was quiet, no more than the usual chatter. Sat beside a window was Carmen, desk vacant and gaze fixated on the gloomy clouds above. Zoey’s legs moved unbidden. If anyone noticed her, they said nothing. She stopped at Carmen’s desk.

“Carmen?”

“Hmm?” The honour student turned, “What’re you doing here?”

“I… I, uh…” Zoey’s shoulders shook. Her hand hurt, as did her legs. Her eyes stung and her nose threatened to drip. Stop it. This is good. You did what she said, she’ll be happy for you. “I punched Gretchen.” Carmen’s eyes widened. More words tumbled from Zoey’s lips before the beast of her mind could swallow them, “And… and I… I have to tell you something.”

A series of violent footsteps echoed from outside, “Later. You’d better hide.” Carmen said.

“Y-yeah,” Zoey sank down and folded herself under Carmen’s desk. While there, she recognised the fiery warmth that coated her. It soothed the shaking, stemmed the tears and dulled the ache in her hand. She glanced to Carmen and found her vision engulfed in her shapely legs. Zoey took a long breath, drawing in the honour student’s scent. Whether this sensation of peace was something unnatural, or a product of Carmen’s presence made no difference. It merely solidified something in Zoey’s mind.

She might be in love.

17

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 16 - Change

It was maelstrom of fleeting thoughts. Zoey cycled through them all, one after the other, each as unsustainable as the last. She was glad to be with Carmen, though that meant being stowed under her desk for the meantime, but Gretchen was out there. Stalking the halls. Her heels had probably cracked under the force of her steps. Had the black eye set in yet? Would it even show through her makeup?

Zoey glanced to her side, away from her knees. Her skirt had fallen down her legs, bunched up around her waist and hips, allowing anyone who glanced at her the opportunity to observe her cock. It didn’t reach as far as it once did, not that she could discern. She didn’t dare check and, instead, remained frozen place. Everyone would look her way if she made a move.

Time passed at an indecipherable pace. A minute, an hour might have passed and she wouldn’t know. Was it still first period? Her only choice was to wait for class to end, for her sanctuary to be destroyed. Gretchen would find her after that. Then what? She could fight, but no one could predict how many would come to the blonde’s aid. If she did, she would be expelled, something she didn’t want on her permanent record. Especially when Gretchen’s mother had connections to near every college within a five-hundred mile radius.

“A few more minutes,” Carmen whispered from above, an angelic voice that parted the grey clouds in Zoey’s head. She looked to the honour student, satisfied with staring at her knees, past which she glimpsed a set of plain underwear. So different to what Gretchen wore, “There’s a free period coming up. We’ll head to the library.”

“What about Gretchen?” Zoey asked, her voice nothing but a tiny squeak in her ears.

Carmen heard her though, “Dakota and Mary said they’ll run interference on that front.”

“Wow,” Zoey steered her head back to its neutral position, chin rested atop her pursed knees and eyes gazing out into the sea of legs beyond, each controlled by Gretchen. The girl had her fangs and claws in them all, whether it was in the form of a ghostly rumour or a memory of her behaviour, she was always present, fuelling their fear. Except for three in the entire school.

How? The deceptively simplistic question hung on Zoey’s brain. Its austerity laid buried, adorned by a mountain of all the other questions that surfaced, about whether it was as easy as a choice, or if the ability came from something deeper. A difference in pedigree? No. Carmen was poor, and Dakota and Mary were upper middle-class at worst. It couldn’t be so simple as personality.

“Time to go,” Carmen said, seconds before the painful sputtering of the bell. The machine was admirable in a way. Despite being broken, left to rust without a second-thought, it still persisted. Zoey crawled from her hiding place and took a parting glance at Carmen’s luscious, milky thighs, “Don’t run. Just walk. If all goes well, you’ll blend in.”

And what if I don’t? She wanted to ask, but kept silent. Zoey nodded as she came to stand beside the top-tiered student. She wavered as a wave of vertigo hit her and grabbed the desk for stability. A glance down revealed the cause. She was tall again. Not as high as before, but above average. It was too great a coincidence for her to stand up for herself and to grow back to near her original height. Not to mention the warm sensation she’d experienced earlier.

“Let’s go,” Carmen said. She grabbed Zoey’s wrist and pulled her along. Outside, the throngs of students masked most of the school. Zoey glanced side to side, eyes wide and observant for the crown of platinum blonde locks she dreaded. No sign of her. A collective blanket of relief descended upon the crowd when they also noticed.

Carmen didn’t pause to enjoy the reprieve. Her feet navigated the student body with practised ease, the kind that came from years of being ignored, remaining on the outskirts, away from distraction and prying eyes. The sacrifices one had to make to stay at the top of the class. And to ignore Gretchen’s hurtful eyes? She spied another outcast teen, who clung to the wall and was passed over by everyone else. Someone mentioned Gretchen and she stiffened.

No, being ignored didn’t grant immunity. Then what? Frustration infiltrated her thoughts, not just for the gross hold Gretchen held on her, nor the cloud of disdain and antipathy that clung to the students, but for how she couldn’t fathom Carmen’s ability. How this girl could somehow be so poor that her clothes were riddled in holes, possess a body made for worship and excel academically, all while she was targeted by the school’s queen bitch, and remain so strong? She’d seen girls from military families, trained by their parents to endure anything, be torn down by Gretchen.

It’s not fair. And yet, it was that girl who defied the term fairness who was helping her. Zoey glanced to her wrist, clasped tight in Carmen’s fingers, and back along the arm to the dark mane of silky hair. It narrowed toward the base of her spine, like an arrow pointed toward her firm rear, which presided over a set of long, voluptuous legs. So, so unfair, Zoey thought with a shake of her head.

“Okay, we’re clear,” Carmen said as they neared the library. After the past few months it had decayed, with fresh ivy creeping along its walls, encroaching on the windows. A sign outside made it clear that it was to be refurbished and repurposed. Gretchen’s doing. She’d made the point to her mother that it would be better spent serving as an entertainment centre. One with an exclusive area for Gretchen of course. Ms. Blake agreed.

She always did. The principal’s history was unclear, no one cared enough to ask and Gretchen didn’t explain anything, but everyone knew she spoiled her manipulative slut of a daughter. Not that she saw it that way. Gretchen was a picture of misunderstood genius in her mind, one that deserved only top marks, of the level that put her one place below Carmen.

The stunning senior led her inside. The library was void of life. Faint streams of light filtered in amongst the vines along the windows and illuminated dust particles as they floated through the air, each incapable of finding space among the layers already on the rows of bookcases. Every book remained in place, disturbed only by one soul in the past months.

“Ugh, it was so nice here before,” Carmen said, scrunching her nose at the musty air. She approached a table and pulled out a chair, sending dust flying everywhere, then took a seat, “Still, at least it’s quiet.”

It was. Zoey listened closely as she strode over to join her. None of the sounds she recognised from school penetrated the high walls around them, as if they’d entered a separate world, vacant and stale, but peaceful.

“This is kind of where we first met,” Zoey said.

“Yeah,” Carmen sighed and swiped at a layer of grime on the table top to lay her head atop it. She added, under her breath, “And when all this began.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Carmen sighed and raised her head, “We’ve got about an hour. Wanna tell me why you punched the scariest bitch in school?” She arched an eyebrow, lips tilted in a curious, excited smirk.

“You told me to,” Zoey answered, “Um, I mean… you told me to stand up for myself. You were right.”

“I’m glad,” Carmen’s smirk turned to a gentle grin, one of relief, as if she was invested in Zoey’s development, “You look better now.”

“What do you mean?” Zoey frowned. Did she know what was happening?

Carmen shrugged and looked away, “Just looks that way to me.”

“Carmen, this… this will sound crazy but…” Zoey’s throat clenched as she swallowed, tight around the ball of anxiety that trapped itself in her gullet. Air filtered past in a restricted flow. Enough for her to live, not to speak.

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy things,” Carmen said, “Nothing you say will shock me.”

“Well, I, uh, I…” Zoey gulped again, louder this time, “I think I’m shrinking.”

Carmen’s eyes bulged at the proclamation, but nothing else moved. Her lips remained pursed in a plump line, unfazed, “And growing?” She asked.

“Yes!” Zoey yelped, excited. She shied back and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Carmen said and leaned forward, “No one else noticed?”

Zoey nodded, “Nobody. Not even my parents.” What did that imply? That she and Carmen had a deeper connection than what she had with Rachel, with her own parents? She’d known the straight-A student for under a week. It didn’t make sense.

“Strange,” Carmen’s gaze turned piercing as it travelled across Zoey’s form. The athlete froze. She almost felt it as her body was observed, dissected by the gorgeous girl opposite her. What would she see? Would she like it? This might be a chance. Zoey straightened her posture and pressed her meagre chest out. She wanted to stand and give a better look at her entire body, but remained seated, keeping her penis concealed.

“Any idea what triggers it?” Carmen asked. She relaxed her stare.

“Kind of,” Zoey shrugged and slouched, “I mean, I feel cold when I, when someone bullies me. Then I’m warm when I stop it.”

“So, you act like a wuss and you shrink, and when you stand up you grow back a bit? Is that right?” Carmen simplified.

“Sounds like it,” Zoey said.

“You’ll be fine then,” Carmen chuckled, “I mean, what’s scarier than Gretchen?”

“Nothing,” Zoey laughed, “Except maybe two of them.”

“Oh god, don’t. Last thing I want is to imagine two of those.”

“What about three?”

“Weirdly, I think three would be easier,” Carmen wondered, “They’d probably kill each other.”

“Why not two?”

“Well, they’d do it eventually, but three would speed it up.”

Zoey lowered her chin to hide the heat in her cheeks. A horrible scenario, yes, but three of Gretchen would make for an intriguing scene. The bitch thought herself above all others, so of course she’d adore having another copy of herself. It wouldn’t take long for her to experiment. Gretchen 1 would kiss Gretchen 2, while the third stripped and groped the pair, before joining the action. Then they’d all turn to the only cock in the room; Zoey’s. How would three sets of lips feel if her own, thinner pair were divine?

Her cock throbbed against its restraint. She clenched her thighs together and jerked back to a proper posture, face forward and hands tense on the table. Carmen’s eyes flickered to them and thinned slightly.

“So, what caused this thing?” Carmen asked.

Zoey exhaled in gratitude. If Carmen noticed anything, she ignored it, a small mercy, but one Zoey hadn’t seen in so long. The moment something caught Gretchen’s eye, she called it out. A quick glance to a guy, and she was all over him, or if someone stared at her too long, she turned it into an insult for both herself and the other person. Unless they had a large bulge in their pants, then it became a conquest.

“I, uh, have no idea,” Zoey said. She didn’t. It was simple to blame it all on her spontaneous cock growth, or on the sudden feelings she held toward Carmen, even both, but that didn’t make sense either. Growing a penis was one thing, but how could something so relatively minor make her shrink? Only a coincidence. Or magic, but, again, that was impossible.

“Hmm… Ever wonder if there’s a god?” Carmen asked. Her eyes flitted to the right and lingered there, as though staring at something invisible to Zoey. Whatever it might be, she looked away soon after.

“Not really. I’d think they’d have done something about Gretchen by now,” Zoey said.

“In every story I’ve read or heard, a god doesn’t intervene directly. They help out through other means. Like urging someone to a goal that would free a country, or giving them a quest to save the world or something. I never paid attention to it myself. But,” Carmen locked her dark blue stare on Zoey, “Maybe there’s merit to it?”

“You think a god did this to me?” Zoey asked.

“Makes about as much sense as anything else,” Carmen said.

“That seems cruel, though.”

Carmen shrugged, “Maybe. Though I haven’t heard of a god that doesn’t dick around with someone.”

“I guess so. Why would one give me this?” Zoey muttered and froze when she realised what she’d said.

“Give you what?” Carmen leaned over the table. A few feet still separated them, but Zoey swore she felt the girl’s breath on her skin. A few simple moves and they’d be touching. She could get a feel for how soft this genius worker was, how she smelled and how she tasted. Oh yes, she needed a taste. Just something to fuel her activities that night.

“Uh, this curse,” Zoey said and leaned away. A wave of coldness dampened her arousal and the world shifted. Everything grew taller, slight enough that she could easily miss it if she hadn’t grown accustomed to the frequent change. Did lying also trigger it?

“You just shrank again,” Carmen noted and sighed, “Listen. I know this is weird. It’s insane. But you can’t shy away anymore. If you do, then who knows what will happen. If someone shouts at you, shout back. If they want you to do something you don’t want to, then tell them you don’t.”

“But that’s… It’s not who I am.”

“Change is important,” Carmen said with a glance toward herself. Her lip curled, but she couldn’t tell if it was a smile or grimace.

“It’s terrifying.”

“To what? Say ‘fuck off’ to someone other than Gretchen?” Carmen teased.

“I didn’t say that to her,” Zoey mumbled.

“No, you punched her instead. If a random stranger snaps at you to, I don’t know, hurry up with something, then you can just tell them to wait. Confronting someone, bully or otherwise, doesn’t mean you have to be an ass,” Carmen explained.

“That sounds so obvious,” Zoey said.

“It is.”

“So, what’re you telling me to do here? I mean, you’re the smart one.”

“Not smart, just a hard worker,” Carmen corrected, “And I’m not really telling you to do anything. Just giving some advice. Judging from what I’ve seen, you get taller when you fight back. It can be minor or huge. And you shrink when you basically roll over, even if it’s just a simple question.”

“That’s pretty accurate,” Zoey said.

“I don’t have friends, so I tend to observe.”

“What about Dakota and Mary?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess, they’re my friends,” Carmen trailed off. She leaned back in her chair and mused aloud, “Things keep on changing. I didn’t think they could be so different.”

Change? Yeah, that’s what she had needed for so long. Zoey studied herself, nothing had changed until recently. She hadn’t noticed any difference in her height since turning eighteen, her wardrobe was mostly the usual brown and red tones with a hint of black mixed in, even her hairstyle went unaltered. It was time for something different.

Growing a cock and shrinking as she had was the greatest alteration to her life in the past few years. And look where it had taken her. Zoey raised her eyes. Those changes brought her here, to an abandoned library, sat opposite a gorgeous and studious girl, with a dull ache in her right hand and a million tumultuous thoughts. The loudest of which was; what would further change bring her?

A date? A kiss? More?

Quiet settled over the table. Sounds of wildlife and cars sifted inside, but went ignored. Zoey stared at Carmen in silence, trying, and failing, to find fault with her. An errant mole peeked over the neckline of her top, stark against her pallid complexion, yet it meant nothing. Carmen’s left eyebrow was crooked, but still arched in an elegant line.

There had to be something. Her breasts were too big. Blasphemy. They were asymmetrical. Not that she could see. Did her ass sag? She hadn’t noticed any dip in the cheeks while they walked, aside from the sensual lift and fall of Carmen’s assured strides. Perhaps her pussy was hairy or too meaty? Zoey stifled a laugh as she realised that it wouldn’t matter what flaws this surreal beauty had.

I love you. The words died in her throat. This wasn’t the time or place. Carmen already had to deal with Gretchen and schoolwork, now she had Zoey’s problems on top of those. She didn’t need another weight on her chest.

“Thanks,” Zoey said.

“For stating the obvious?” Carmen asked.

“For helping me with, um, just about everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Carmen took a glance at her watch, “I should go. Classes aren’t far off. Plus I want to make sure Dakota and Mary are alright.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Should I come too?”

“Not a good idea. You should probably law low for a day or two. Gretchen will take her anger out on someone, I think, then the storm should be mostly over,” Carmen said. She stood and stretched, arms over her head as she arched her back, announcing her pert breasts to the world. Zoey snapped her eyes back to her hands, though they darted to Carmen’s hips as she turned around, bag slung over a shoulder.

“Hey, uh… I’ve got some spare notebooks. In my locker. You can have them if you want?”

“No thanks.”

“But-but aren’t you gonna fall behind?”

“I’m already ahead,” Carmen said, “I’ll just have to cram for finals. Worst case, I have a few sleepless nights. So long as I get into the right college, it won’t matter.”

Zoey hurried to catch up and followed Carmen outside. She didn’t dare go inside the main building, or venture any further from her temporary sanctum. Gretchen could be prowling the corridors, still enraged and prepped to murder anyone who crossed her path. Someone might’ve already fallen victim to her anger.

“Why bother with college?” Zoey blurted. She hadn’t meant to say that, not aloud. No, speaking out was part of her reform. She wouldn’t keep her words bottled up, not anymore. Where it was appropriate of course, “I mean, you’re hotter than any model.” Her cheeks boiled at the proclamation. If Carmen didn’t know about her attraction, she did now.

“Doesn’t pay enough.”

“Are you kidding? They make a fortune.”

“The popular ones do, yeah. But I don’t want something so temporary. I need cash, influence. Something permanent,” Carmen said.

“Like what?”

“Who knows? I’ve gotta go.”

“Uh, wait!” Zoey said and pulled out her phone, “Uh, could I get your number? In case I need someone to talk to?”

“I guess. No calls though.”

“Okay,” Zoey stifled her disappointment in her glee and the gentle flame that flickered to life in her core. Texts were better than nothing. And besides, she thought as she entered Carmen’s name into her contacts, she got her number, “I’ll, uh, text you later. Okay?”

“Sure,” Carmen waved goodbye and strode off to the main building. Zoey followed her path and saw Dakota and Mary waiting at the entrance, none the worse for wear. She watched them go inside and headed back home. Anything Megan could say or do to her, Gretchen would triple it. And she was confident she could overcome Megan.

“Again. Easier said than done,” Zoey groaned. But she’d do it. Yes, she would. Without a doubt this time. The distasteful pain in her hand was her reminder, a medal that proved she’d graduated from the terrified Zoey she once was.

Zoey stopped at the foot of her home. It lacked any sign of life, but Megan secluded herself in her room, only leaving for necessities and to go out. The chances of her leaving on a weekday were slim, since her usual crowd would be at college, or trying to maintain a modicum of a healthy life. Without reason to leave, she would sit in her room, probably naked and fixated on her laptop, on the illusion she’d crafted. Zoey had stumbled upon her masquerading as some prestigious girl dozens of times in the past.

Why would she want a better life than this? Zoey wondered, for the umpteenth time. Their family wasn’t rich, but they were well enough. She clasped the doorknob, simple bronze painted in silver to stand out against the royal blue of the door. A two story house, four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large living room and kitchen, and a set of parents able to provide whatever was needed. Yet Megan still wanted more.

It was night and day as Zoey passed old photos along the staircase. Depictions of a sweet and caring child, had decayed and formed a spiteful woman. Blonde curls had fallen into black streaks, the long, flowing dresses and skirts were cut, and her smooth skin was marred by tattoos. Zoey hadn’t changed much from the auburn haired, baby-faced child on the wall.

She had started as a typical kid, adventurous and uninhibited. Then she and Megan went to different middle-schools, and the bullying started. She never figured out why they targeted her, but they had. In a span of two years, she’d withdrawn into herself. Megan had been her sole refuge, until she turned against her as well.

She and Megan were friends once. A typical sisterly relationship, the older one mentored the child, kept her safe and told her what their parents wouldn’t. Like how to manipulate boys. Back when a lack of bust didn’t mean anything, they would wind-up every guy they met for fun, gossip about who liked who, or dare the other to go out with someone they didn’t like.

As she grew, Megan got curvier and her popularity spiked. They spent less time together. Megan was the boy’s girl, while Zoey ran around a field or kept to herself all day. Eventually, Megan decided she could be a model, based on how many guys drooled over her. It didn’t work out. All the agencies either told her she was too curvy, or not curvy enough. Even the more risqué ones turned her down.

On her last bid, she had Zoey with her. Zoey thought it was a possible resurgence in their relationship. They had gotten along fine then, but not as well as before. It all went downhill from there. Megan didn’t get the job, instead they tried to proposition Zoey, the skinny little sister, and she turned them down. That was the final straw it seemed.

It became obvious that any semblance of friendship was over. Megan chose to take pride in her figure, rightly so, but she took it too far. She lured every guy she could with her large tits, stole boyfriends, slept around, shamed anyone with a pant size smaller than ten, and paid special attention to Zoey. Every chance she got, she reminded her of how skinny the athlete was, or how she hadn’t had any boyfriends. Ever.

She peered around the corner, down the hall where her sister’s room oozed dread. Avoidance wasn’t cowardice, but strategy. Her… curse? Gift? Carmen did theorise that it came from a god, so maybe it was a gift. Either way, it wouldn’t trigger from this. She hoped.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t the same anymore. The timid girl, who ran track to escape her problems, was a memory, lost in the sea of others. Zoey toed the floor, checking for any loose boards that might rouse her sister. Nothing yet. She dragged her feet along the ground, keeping her weight distributed and ready to flee if needed. Another step without incident.

She reached for her door. One more step and she’d be safe, free to relax in private, away from Gretchen’s wrath and Carmen’s temptation. Megan’s door opened. Zoey’s head jerked in her direction and locked there, staring at the turn of fate. The elder sibling raised her head from her phone and smirked at the sight of Zoey, who glanced over her in dismay. Megan wore nothing but her underwear. Her bra was tight, forcing her breasts to overflow its cups.

“Hey there, sis,” Megan beamed and strode over, she exaggerated the natural sway of her plentiful hips, and came to a stop before the taller sibling, legs cocked to the side. Her panties dug deep into her lower curves, creating a slight muffin top. A damp smell caught Zoey’s attention. A familiar, sexual odour. She glanced to Megan’s crotch and noticed a darkness across her underwear.

“Hi,” Zoey said. She kept her thoughts secret, including the slight surge of pride at standing over Megan again. She could do this.

“What happened this time? Did that big, mean Gretchen pick on you again?”

“Yeah, then I punched her,” Zoey answered flatly.

Megan’s smile dropped, “What?”

“I punched her. She was a real bitch. Worse than you are,” Zoey explained. Her skin dimpled and muscles trembled, yet the welcome heat of growth kept her in place and pushed the words out.

“Good for you, Zoey. You finally stood up against a bully!” Megan patronised, “About time. Shame you couldn’t do that in grade school, when I had to rescue you. Remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. I also remember having to look after you when Nancy Cramer didn’t invite you to her birthday. I’m amazed you didn’t flood the house, you were crying so much.”

Megan’s expression turned sour, “Listen here you little shit! I don’t fucking care if you think you’re some hot bitch now because you punched someone. Big deal. I’ve clawed eyes out. You’re still a worthless cunt.”

“And what does that make you?!” Zoey shouted. She took a step forward and Megan backed away. Blood rushed to her face. No one had looked her this way. It wasn’t fear, nor was it contempt. She tried to comprehend it, but her words came first, “Well? I’ve done nothing to you. Except try to be your sister! Who’s been taking your shit for the last four years, huh?” The last past was mostly fuelled by Gretchen, but it applied all the same.

“Zoey,” Megan started.

“Shut it. I don’t care anymore, got it? I don’t care that you didn’t get to be a model, or that you think you have to fuck with everyone you meet. Megan,” Zoey took a deep breath. The heat was greater than ever, even more so than after she punched Gretchen. It wasn’t anger, she knew that as intimately as her family. “We’re sisters for fuck’s sake. You think I wanted you fail?”

Megan’s eyes and lips convulsed. She took a deep breath, anger in her eyes. Zoey focused on it, enforcing her own, years-old rage upon the seething emotion. Then Megan exhaled, her face relaxed and lowered.

“I’m sorry. Alright?” She said and moved around the athlete, down the stairs. Zoey stared after her.

“Thanks,” Zoey breathed and went into her room, where she crumpled atop her bed. It was a start, but everything had to begin somewhere. Even so, with the deprivation of adrenaline and the warmth, the weight of her words fell on her. All at once. She hadn’t punched Megan, but somehow it seemed worse than with Gretchen, “Because we’re sisters?” Zoey postulated aloud. Maybe. But Megan also wasn’t cruel without any reason behind it. She was hurt. The blonde queen of Saint Puella had nothing like that.

If she cared enough about Gretchen, she might’ve tried to figure out what it is that drove her. She didn’t. All she wanted from Gretchen was to be left alone. A request she wouldn’t heed. Jenna had done nothing but get them her called to an assembly, stealing less than an hour from her day. Hospital awaited Zoey if she showed her face anytime soon, or worse. She had never seen the blonde so furious before, though no one had punched her before.

Her return would be whole new territory. Yet another major change.

But she could do nothing about it now. She rolled onto her back and stretched her legs, sore after the constant sprinting, then smirked at her ceiling as her feet dangled off her mattress. Back to normal, she thought and sat up. They say people take things for granted, and she agreed as she stood to inspect her renewed form.

She was taller than normal. Zoey blinked as she looked around her room, hopeful that each flicker would reveal that she was imagining it all. That the ceiling wasn’t so low, that she couldn’t reach up and press her palm flat against it with ease. Her bookshelf had once stood on a level plain as her, now she could rest her chin atop it, and her bed seemed too small. A frown creased her skin.

This was good. She had towered above most girls at Saint Puella before, with Carmen being among the few exceptions, now she dwarfed them. Even Gretchen would think twice before messing with her. Zoey felt along her body, intent on making sure everything was as it should be.

Her legs were long and powerful as ever, still the core of her height. She bent to trace along the powerful muscle along her thigh, down her quads and calves, a grateful grin on her lips. The earlier struggle to outrun Holly was a hollow memory now. She flexed and smirked at the display of her prowess.

The muscle extended into her upper form. It hadn’t diminished when she shrank, rather it withdrew into her skin and kept her body in prime condition. Now it was free. Gentle curves and ridges carried across her stomach, pecs and into her arms. Her biceps bulged with strength and femininity, unlike those deranged bodybuilders she heard of, the ones that were more masculine than most men. And yet, unlike those women, she possessed a penis. An enviable advantage in their eyes.

She was still a girl, though. Zoey stripped down to make sure, anxiety high as she imagined slowly losing her sexual identity. She raised her male genitalia and saw her shy pussy peek out, its lips closed and curved up into the hood of her clit. A faint layer of juices glistened on her tight yet plump labia. Yes, she was a girl, first and foremost. She just had a cock too. A big, meaty dick more masculine than some she’d seen online.

Back on her bed, she studied it. Her thighs framed the shaft, a trinity of power. On either side, she saw muscle, and at the centre rested a veiny slab of meat, perched atop a pair of large balls. Her mons were bald, smooth as a worry stone.

“It’s smaller,” Zoey noted. Last night’s explosion of bliss crossed her mind and was followed by disappointment. She was flexible, but she would be lucky to the reach the head now. Even so, she looked larger than the first time she saw it, by a couple of inches she estimated. And still flaccid. She needed to know how it looked erect, and to get some release.

She shuffled back on her bed and leaned against the headboard. Zoey spread her thighs further and grabbed her member. It hung past her index finger. Anticipation sizzled beneath her skin.

An earlier fantasy barged into her thoughts, one of Gretchen, submissive to Zoey’s huge cock and covered in cum. The athlete stroked along her length, a motion that became easier with each day, stoking the flame of lust within it. Her prick swelled and pulsed with life. It spread her fingers wider, until her thumb and forefinger were separated. Though smaller than mere hours ago, no one would mistake it for small.

Zoey brought her second hand into the mix. As she stroked with one, the other explored, like a blind person familiarising themselves with a new element. Her fingertips traced vein upon vein. They splintered off into dozens of new paths, undulating with blood. Another vein, thicker than the rest, bulged along the bottom of her shaft. But they all lead to one place; the head. Her favourite part. Huge and spongy, it bulged from her shaft at a near-obscene angle, almost like a mushroom, and was a deep, lustful purple.

She squeezed toward the tip. A small pearl of pre-cum oozed from the precipice, then broke and streamed onto her fingers, warm and slimy. It streaked down her shaft as she sank, following the broad line along the bottom of her cock. Another bead poured out and down the top as she rose again. More gushed with every circuit, extra piled upon the already ample amount, until her throbbing, vein-riddled dick glistened in the dull light. The scent wafted from her length. A line of drool leaked from her lips.

Zoey hunched forward. Her short hair fell and grazed her cock’s peak. Hot, humid breaths broke against it and urged greater dollops of pre. She sniffed at it, sighing with every exhale. The mild perfume she wore was drowned in the musk. Strong and virile, masculine, yet infused with the delicate, spicy scent of her pussy. Her tongue lashed out, but couldn’t reach. She curled in further, lips puckered.

That stench… that disarming, controlling reek demanded that she taste it. She wanted to taste it, Zoey amended. What was she becoming, that it almost hurt not to suck her own dick, that she drooled at the mere smell of it? Any shame she might have felt was shoved aside. This was what she craved, no shame in that.

The shame was in her inability to fulfil her lust. She grunted and puckered her lips. They met the head, both soft and moist. Pre-cum burst across her mouth. She licked it clean and shuddered. This was a gift, no doubt about it. Even Gretchen couldn’t enjoy the taste of cum the way she did.

“Come on, just a little more,” Zoey breathed. Her cock twitched at her words, as if reaching for her as well, eager to bury itself in her gullet once more. Muscle and boned strained in unison, working together to attain her ultimate goal, all while her hands worked and doused themselves and her fingers in pre-cum. Her breath became cool on her spongy crown.

She reared back on her ass and lurched forward. Her lips spread, her tongue stretched, her cock slid across her slick muscle and into her maw. Zoey moaned in victory and sealed her mouth around it. Moisture and warmth surrounded her pulsating prick, a lush sanctuary for her cock to unleash its lewd treasure. Salty goo spilled across her taste buds and coated them. It oozed around her mouth and clung to her teeth.

Zoey suckled on the head. She couldn’t go lower, but this would work. Her tongue swirled across the sensitive peak, along the cleft where the glans met skin, lathering it in her spit and its own translucent gunk. Yoga and gymnastics waited in her future. She was sure of it.

She slid her lips along what she could reach. Fresh gouts of pre spurted at her attention. They splashed against the roof of her mouth and down her throat, setting off her gag reflex. Thick saliva dribbled down her length and mixed with the dick slime already there, creating a frothing mess over her shaft. Her veins throbbed harder and echoed in the head.

It wouldn’t be long before she came. Until then, she planned to savour all the sensations her new, lurid form could muster. And that meant using her cunt. Zoey’s trim nails crossed the plane of her testes, down and under them until they nestled against her sopping snatch, swollen with tempered lust. It opened around three fingers with ease, hungry for the attention.

She curled the digits and scratched at her tight, dripping walls. Her pinkie finger pressed flush against her engorged labia as her thumb toyed with the clit, sending shocks of delight buzzing throughout her nervous system. As her hand climbed her cock, she sank her fingers to the knuckle, faster with every repeat, until the slick noises saturated the room. She moaned and inhaled around her dick, turning her cheeks a striking convex shape.

“Yes, more… oh god, more,” Zoey mumbled around her dick. The vibrations travelled along its length, down into her stuffed sack. Her eyelids closed, shutting out any distraction, and left her thoughts to themselves.

Close as she was, Zoey only had one thing on her mind; pleasure. It took whatever form it desired, such was its role in life. Here, she saw Gretchen, eye still blackened, submissively nursing from her cock. A mess of spit and pre coated the blonde’s face. It sullied her once lush hair, turning it to a gross mass of matted locks. Soon it would be painted white in Zoey’s cum. She couldn’t say whether she produced enough for the job, but she longed to know.

Then another desire entered the mix. Her mind’s eye turned and saw Carmen behind her, huge, natural breasts on either side of Zoey’s head while she played with the futa’s rigid nipples. Creamy flesh, capped by ripe cherry-sized nipples, saturated Zoey’s sight. The busty honour student whispered unintelligible words to her. She didn’t need to understand them, only know their meaning.

“Cum. Cum. Cum.”

Zoey moaned louder and bucked her hips. Her moans rose higher until they were muffled shrieks, while her pussy clamped down on her fingers. She added a fourth to the slurry of juices and played rough with her clit. Every blissful pulsation worked its way to her cock. The flow of pre subsided. Her member twitched and lurched, thickening as it worked to stuff her fully.

The first wave of cum was always the best. Every inch of her cock was warmed by the flow, it swelled and the veins pounded against her tongue, before flooding her mouth. Zoey sputtered a the violent short. It splattered from her lips onto her crotch. She swallowed what she could before the next. Prepared, she devoured each drop. As if challenged, the next volley came faster. She managed, but the follow up was quicker still.

Before long, she could do little more than gag, moan and drool the excess onto her groin. Even so, her hands prolonged the blissful pleasure. Her pussy squelched around her fingers, leaking onto her bed, as she continued to jerk her cock. Both came in tandem, each sensation familiar yet alien in their delirious fusion.

The sky cleared, allowing sunlight to break through and bathe the world in its warm glow. Zoey giggled to herself, wondering if her orgasm had caused the sudden shift, still high on the post-orgasmic haze. Her chin, chest and crotch were all a mess, and her sheets were soaked. A casual sniff of the air imparted only the scent of pussy and cum. She’d sampled the mixture before, when she walked on in Gretchen after a night out.

None of her concerns broke past the afterglow. The fact that Gretchen would be out for blood, or that she had no idea how she would get her feelings across to Carmen, or how she would handle life as a mixed-gender athlete. Would they make something for trans people? Did that even apply to her?

It didn’t matter. The possibility was still a long ways off, far from her current bliss. She rolled her fingers around in the cooling, gooey mess on her skin. Some had landed on her breasts. They were meagre things, direct opposites to Megan’s lush pair, designed for a runner. But she wouldn’t mind a bit more. She hummed at the idea of wrapping her cock in a pair of plump tits as she sucked it, all while her hands focused on her pussy. Her dick also approved as it stiffened once more.

“What’s a refractory period?” Zoey giggled and grabbed it again. The skin was still sensitive, a bit sore, but she had no doubt a slow, gentle motion would be fine. She wondered how it would feel to have Carmen’s hand on it, touching and stroking her dick to orgasm after orgasm. Someday, Zoey promised herself. She glanced to her most recent pile of clothes and reached over to retrieve her phone. That day wouldn’t come without some extra work.

Hey, are you available after school?

She glanced at the time. Carmen would be in class. No matter how lax the teachers were in their punishment, she wouldn’t risk answering her phone. Not a problem. Zoey had the perfect means to pass the time. Her hand returned to her cock and resumed her languid strokes. The pleasure was different, like a slow burn rather than the sudden blaze she was familiar with. She toyed with her pussy as well.

Half an hour later, her phone pinged. She wiped her hand clean of her filthy juices and grabbed it.

Only for about an hour. I have work.

Zoey arched a brow at the text. How could Carmen maintain top marks and still have time to work? It didn’t seem feasible. Surely, she would be burnt out soon.

That’s okay. I just want to talk for a bit.

A lie. She longed to do so much more, to reveal her cock to Carmen and lose her virginity in the same moment. But that was pure lust. Zoey pushed the desires aside, rather, she focused them into her left hand as it continued to stroke her cock.

Sure. You know that coffee place a few blocks from the school? Soothe the Soul?

Zoey had seen it a few times, only in passing though. She didn’t care for coffee. Too bitter. But she would tolerate it for the sake of seeing Carmen again.

Yeah. Meet you there?

Yes. Class is starting. See you later.

Zoey set her phone down and stared at it, still with one hand on her shaft. Could this be considered a date? No, they weren’t girlfriends. She doubted Carmen would even want to date her. Everyone claimed she was a lesbian, through and through. Though no one had seen her even kiss a girl, or a boy. Perhaps she just didn’t have time for relationships? That seemed likely. She couldn’t fit a girlfriend in amongst the countless hours of work and study.

Then what were her chances? Zoey groaned and turned away from the device. Worrying wouldn’t change anything. She had several hours to kill before meeting with Carmen, and she fully intended to make use of them.

18

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 17 - Out With It

Zoey sat in a quaint shop, a single cup of coffee before her. The table was small, adequate for two getting a drink or snack and not much else. Three others occupied the space around her, each with a single person sat at them. Behind the counter, the owner cleaned up or sampled her own product, giving a satisfied sigh with each intake. Several people passed by, glanced inside with longing, then hurried along in dissatisfaction. What were they expecting?

She wore her casual outfit. A plain, red shirt and purple summer jacket, while her cock was confined to her jeans, strapped to her thigh while her balls were nestled tight within her boxer shorts. Discerning eyes might recognise the bulge, but any passer-by would ignore it. Still, she kept her lower body concealed under the table.

Five minutes to go before Carmen was supposed to arrive. Anticipation flashed at the thought of the stunning honour student, yet worry nipped at her excitement, as it always did. The beast was shackled, unable to crush her lap under anxiety’s weight, though that made it no less powerful. Any number of things could go wrong after all.

Carmen might not show up, for one. Someone from school might see them and report back to Gretchen, who would show up a minute later for revenge. Perhaps Carmen would come, only to be called in for work early. No, that was ridiculous. Carmen wasn’t the kind of person to stand someone up, and Gretchen would still be nursing her face after that punch. Hatred and delight tickled the skin of her knuckles, as if urging her to do it again. She wanted to. Oh, she wanted to repeat that moment over and over, and take it further. Despite the disgusting sensation it left in her.

Dread yanked her stomach to the lowest depths. That couldn’t happen. It was a miracle the principal hadn’t already called to expel her, anything more than earlier and she would be. Without a doubt. That, also, couldn’t happen. Not yet.

Why did she worry anyway? It’s not a date. It’s not a date. Zoey repeated the sentence over and over in her mind, engraving it into her psyche. Even so, the odd flutter in her stomach as it wavered between plummeting into nothingness and vaulting into the open kept her on edge. The earlier satisfaction and release she’d felt from masturbating was gone.

Zoey glanced to her phone. Two minutes. She straightened her back, leaned into the chair and clutched her undrunk coffee. Caffeine was poison to a runner, an unnatural energy that became a crutch. She stared outside, watching for the standout beauty and intelligence that she pined for, and spotted her.

Marvellous. Gorgeous. Stupendous. Zoey ran through all the synonyms, hoping to find something that matched the girl who stepped inside, a wisp of air playing with her locks of dark blonde resplendence, while her chest wobbled like two rippling oceans. Her eyes stopped there. It was one thing to stare at someone’s face, especially when their eyes were a startling sapphire hue, but their body was another.

“Hey,” Carmen said and sat opposite Zoey, sinking into the lucky chair.

“Hey,” Zoey replied. She cleared her throat and looked to her coffee, still steaming hot, “So, uh, how was school?”

“Same old, same old,” Carmen said, glancing to the front. Zoey followed her gaze and saw the owner grinning back. She was a hefty women, with a plump middle and even plumper breasts, as if all her fat had tried to go for her curves, but ran out of room.

“Gretchen give any trouble?”

“The usual,” Carmen reiterated. A hardness crept into her voice, “She picked on me, Mary and Dakota a bit. But it was pretty spread out. Rumour has it she stripped a girl in the gym.”

“Yeah,” Zoey sank into her chair, “She did.”

“God, she needs a kick up the ass,” Carmen said, then, as if a switch was flipped, the edge in her voice dissipated, “Hi, Stacy.” Zoey looked up and saw the owner by their side, who peered over the shelf that was her bosom. What size was she? Even Gretchen’s pair didn’t match up.

“Afternoon, Carmen. You should’ve mentioned you were meeting a friend here. I’d have given her my special blend,” Stacy said, beaming at the pair. Zoey looked away. It was too bright, like staring into the sun.

“What special blend?” Carmen asked.

“You’ll find out later. Wink, wink.”

“You don’t have to say ‘wink, wink’ you know?”

“Yes.” It was her imagination, but Zoey swore she heard the woman’s smile widen, “Anyway, this one’s on the house. So enjoy.” The sweet owner, whose every atom seemed to screech bubbliness, left after setting a cup down before Carmen, who took a long sip of it.

“You drink coffee?” Zoey asked.

“Only Stacy’s,” Carmen said, grinning, “The usual blends are disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded, a terse smile on her lips. That’s another thing they had in common, on top of their mutual disdain for Gretchen. There had to be more, though. A relationship couldn’t be built on shared dislikes. Zoey stiffened and sank her head low, cheeks ablaze. To hide her thoughts, she took a long drag on the coffee and stopped an instant later. It was sweet, the bitterness buried underneath something thick. A dense cream, perhaps, though she’d never had one so sweet. It must be high in fat, she thought. Doesn’t matter, she decided and drank another mouthful.

“Good, right?” Carmen inquired.

“Y-yeah,” Zoey said.

“Told you,” Carmen chuckled and took another drink of her own, “So, what did you want to talk about, anyway?”

“Oh, uh… just wanted to talk, really.”

Carmen shrugged, “If you’re sure.”

“So, um, what’s up with you, Mary and Dakota?” Zoey asked and snapped at herself in her mind.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know? They just started hanging out with you all a sudden, right after Mary’s… thing got out.”

“Coincidence,” Carmen answered an instant too soon. Something flashed in her eyes, another something within that. They concealed each other, like soldiers making a tactical retreat.

“Sorry, that was rude,” Zoey said, a wave of cold swept over her and the world grew. Not enough that she would’ve noticed yesterday, but she was attuned to it now.

“No, I’m sorry for snapping like that,” Carmen said. That’s snapping? Zoey blinked at the girl and laughed.

“If it was Gretchen, she would’ve shouted at me until she was blue. That’s what she calls snapping.”

“Let me guess, she calls slapping someone a high five?”

“Pretty much,” Zoey giggled.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Carmen said.

“Why?”

“I know Gretchen’s type. They’re horrible and seem like the strongest bitch around. That is until someone comes along and puts them on their ass. It’s simple instinct really. She’ll snap and snarl, but won’t fight back anymore. Not unless she can get a pack together. Really, Gretchen’s more a dog than you’d think. That’s why she kept you around her, but kept you under the impression that you’re weak. I’d call her an overweight Chihuahua that feels like it needs to dominate everything,” Carmen said, “Now that she’s gotten a taste of a real dog’s bite, she won’t try anything without a bigger pack.”

“Sounds like something out of Dog Whisperer,” Zoey said.

“Might be. I used to watch it with my dad,” Carmen grinned and took another gulp of her drink, “My mom’s allergic to dogs, so when I was little, he’d pretend to be the dog and I’d be Cesar Millan. I always wound up riding him around the house.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was.”

Zoey didn’t ask what happened. Carmen’s gaze lingered on nothing, as if the coffee shop scenery was a phantom. Whatever she saw – a home, happy and loving, perhaps? – brought out a sorrow in her eyes, one that intensified her beauty. It was vulnerability, a chance for Zoey to take charge and comfort her, perhaps insert herself as a potential girlfriend. But she remained motionless, quiet and patient as Carmen left her memory.

“So, uh, I’ve got a big race coming up,” Zoey said.

“Oh?” Carmen arched an eyebrow, “Leave it to the school not to advertise it.”

“Well, it’s not that big. It’s more like a local thing, a warmup. If I win, though, I might get to participate in bigger events.”

“Or get scouted,” Carmen said, “No one knows who watches these things.”

“I doubt it,” Zoey said, “Even if I do well, they’ll look into my history.”

“They won’t care what Gretchen made you do. People like that only want results.”

“It’s not that. I’ve never won a race before. Or even topped,” Zoey said.

“How?” Carmen blinked at the statement.

“I… uh… just never did.”

Carmen let it go. She took several gulps of coffee, as did Zoey, before going wide-eyed, “Sorry, Zoey. My shift starts in a few seconds.”

“Wait!” Zoey blurted as Carmen stood, lashing out to grasp her by the wrist. The position had her leaning forward, face an inch shy of the honour student’s captivating bust. Her masculinity cried out for her to close that distance and get a feel for how soft those mounds were, to sample them before she sank too far into her infatuation. It went unheeded.

“Um, I was wondering, uh, if you… and I could go… go out? Like, on a date?” Each word was a struggle. She forced them out through sheer willpower, despite the frantic quiver building in her legs. Carmen blushed and slipped free.

“Sorry, I’m already dating someone. See you tomorrow,” the stacked teen said and walked away. She didn’t turn back, which was just as well, since it allowed Zoey to stare, frustrated and intoxicated, at Carmen’s delicious rear. Each cheek rose and fell with her steps, hypnotic. She stepped behind the counter and hugged the owner, whose monumental chest mashed into Carmen’s. They lingered for longer than any normal co-workers would.

Zoey downed the last of her coffee and left. She returned home, intent on masturbating to relieve her frustrations. Give her a break! How was it that she still couldn’t get what she wanted? She’d punched Gretchen, talked to Carmen and even broached the subject of a relationship, and still she was unattainable. Not in the sense of a celebrity. Carmen was simply taken.

How could Zoey compare to someone like that shop owner? The athlete was exactly as her speciality needed her to be. She was slender and strong, curveless save for a gentle swell to her hips and breasts. It was sad to say, but the curviest portion of her body was her cock and balls. That owner wouldn’t have one. She couldn’t. That alone was Zoey’s sole advantage. But Carmen was gay, that much was obvious. She likely didn’t have any interest in someone with a dick.

There were plenty of others, though. Zoey told herself as she shut the front door to her home. Open mindedness was everywhere now. Dozens of women would want to at least experience a relationship with her, if nothing else but to brag about how endowed Zoey is. She only needed to put herself out there, on a dating site for weird fetishes or something, or sneak into a lesbian bar and pull in someone.

Gretchen made sex sound like the greatest time of her life. That would distract her from Carmen. If she found someone who loved her, cock and all, then why would she need her? Zoey would forget about the honour student. Forget about her supple curves, how her scrappy clothes drew all the attention to her gorgeous face, the sculpted nose, plush lips and fathomless eyes. She’d even forget the fantasies of Carmen’s naked form.

“Fuck!” Zoey snapped and ran to her room. Porn. That would solve it. She just had to find a star even more beautiful than Carmen, someone to captivate her. Even if they were unreachable, it was better than lusting after someone so close.

“Something wrong?”

Zoey stopped at her door and looked to Megan, who stood in the hallway, a recently used bowl in hand. The older sister was dressed as lazily as ever; a tank top that ended at her ribcage and a pair of loose sweatpants, too long for her legs.

“No,” Zoey said, thankful for the annoyance pervading her thoughts. Even lacking her usual malice, Megan intimidated her.

“I’ve known you all your life. I know when something’s up,” Megan said and set the bowl down. She clapped a hand on Zoey’s back and pushed her into the room, then led her to the bed, “So, what’s up?” Megan asked. She sat down and leaned back, eyes on her younger sibling.

“Don’t act like you care.”

“Alright. What’s up?”

“Why do you want to know?” Zoey said, a glint of anger seeping into her tone. One apology didn’t mean Megan could act like a sister again. Not so suddenly. It didn’t make sense. At all.

“Guilt?” Megan shrugged and fell back to lay atop Zoey’s bed, stretching her shorter, curvier form, “I dunno. Just figured I’d quit being the bitch here. Looks like you want to try it out.”

“What?” Zoey blinked and raised her eyes from Megan’s body. How long had she been staring? In lieu of an answer, her cock throbbed within her jeans, shoving against the strap. A shudder of revulsion sprinted down her spine. Unnatural urges hissed within her mind. Eve had been tempted by one snake, now Zoey felt as if a hive of the slithery bastards were coiling within her thoughts, all whispering to her. All commenting that Megan might be that woman to distract her. The taboo only made it better.

“Never mind,” Megan said and sat up. She hunched forward, unencumbered breasts falling to her thighs, mashing into them. Creamy flesh bulged from the sides of her top, smooth and enticing, like the most decadent sundae Zoey had seen, “It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

“Um,” Zoey twisted away from her.

“A girl?” Megan asked. Not teased. No, her voice was soft, understanding. Zoey peeked back at her, and away again instantly, “Hey, it’s alright. I’m bi anyway, so I get it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zoey said, thoughts flashing to the infrequent times when two women were moaning in Megan’s room, without any boys around. Back then, she’d felt indifferent to her sister’s constant flow of lovers, and still did about the guys, but the women were another matter. Her stomach flopped and her cock stiffened as she imagined how another pussy might feel. How it would taste. How it would look bathed in spunk.

Worst of all, she didn’t imagine her sister’s friends now. All she saw was Carmen. Or Megan. Or, worse yet, Gretchen. Those two were always together.

“If you need someone to talk to about it, let me know. People always give us crap,” Megan said, “Even if you already slept with them. I had this one chick from high school, horrible personality, incredible lay. She went around telling everyone what a fucking carpet muncher I was. She was partly right, just omitted how often she joined me. But I digress. The point is, I know people are assholes and they always will be. So… I get it.”

“Thanks,” Zoey said, still turned away. Megan sighed and left, unaware of her younger sister’s eyes watching her ass leave the room. Door shut, alone and breathless under the weight of her swelling desires, Zoey unbuckled her belt and freed her cock, then bound it with her hand. Few things compared to the heft of holding a dick, one over a foot in length and a matched in girth, while her pussy engorged and leaked. She slid a hand under her sweaty balls and entered her snatch as she stroked her length. Until dinner, she was devoted to her body.

Tomorrow came sooner than she wanted. Sleep came and went like a fantasy, the kind that was so great but elusive that she tried to latch onto, only to miss each time. What little sleep she got was swiftly interrupted by another errant fantasy. It fled by the time she woke up, leaving its mark on her sheets. Her cock, despite having cum almost a dozen times that day, refused to go soft during the night.

It was Carmen’s fault. And Megan’s, and Gretchen’s. They wouldn’t leave her thoughts be. One moment, her consciousness coasted on the memory of running, the next second and she was suddenly facing Carmen, Megan or Gretchen. Sometimes all three. Lewdness tainted everything from there.

They’d make out with her, or one another or skip it and strip for Zoey’s viewing pleasure. If she was under at the time, the dream would persist until she was on the verge of orgasm, then she woke up. She refused to masturbate, even as her cock throbbed and twitched, trapped on the brink, determined to get some sleep.

Now she walked downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a dull thud. She’d almost forgotten to put on sweatpants to hide her phallus. Her parents were already gone, having been called in early, leaving her the company of Megan, who occupied herself with a bowl of cereal. The lazy sister was dressed for socialising; a low cut shirt, push-up bra and a pair of shorts designed to hug her curves.

“Plans for today?” Zoey asked as she dragged the box and a bowl toward her.

“Got a job interview,” Megan said.

Zoey blinked, “You?”

“I’ve been looking. I told you ‘I’m done being the bitch’. So, it’s work for me, and maybe a boyfriend too,” Megan said, winking at her sister. Anger bubbled beneath Zoey’s skin, not at her sister for turning over a new leaf so abruptly – that was a welcome change, even if it might turn out to be false – but for the idea of some boy having her. Sleep deprivation and denying herself an orgasm for the entire night were taking their toll.

“Hmm,” Zoey stood and grabbed the milk, hoping to hide her emotions.

“Didn’t sleep last night?” Megan asked, coming to the nearby sink. An arm’s length separated them. Zoey sniffed and caught her sister’s perfume, a blend of mango and lime she believed. It was Zoey’s favourite from when they were younger, even now she still enjoyed the smell.

“No,” Zoey said and rubbed at the crust still around her eyes. She shot a quick sidelong glare at her sibling, who, though unintentionally, had disrupted her sleep time and again.

“I know a few yoga poses that help with it,” Megan said, and added, “No, really. They work.”

“Uh huh,” Zoey mumbled and returned to the table to eat her breakfast. Megan came to stand behind her, “What’re you… oh!” Megan’s hands found her shoulders and worked them, massaging all the tension from her muscles. Since when did her sister know this? A pleasant sigh escaped Zoey’s lips as she relaxed. It might have been forced on her, but the sense of leisure was welcome all the same.

Megan’s hands slipped lower, across her shoulder blades and to the bunched up muscles at the base of her spine. Zoey slouched forward, breakfast forgotten.

“I know a lot of massages,” Megan said, leaning down to press her ponderous chest into Zoey’s back, lips close to the athlete’s ears, “I’ve been trying them out on some friends. They always… come back for another.”

“Yeah?” Zoey sighed.

“Especially when I do… this,” Megan’s magical fingers left her skin and danced across Zoey’s stomach, down to her thighs. Before she could snap her legs shut, Megan’s fingertip brushed the bulge of her cock. The two separated. Zoey remained frozen in her chair, eyes bulging in terror. A clear space of milk reflected her expression, and that of Megan from behind her.

“What the fuck, Zoey?” Megan asked. She wasn’t angry, or her voice didn’t betray any. Rather, it sounded like she was hurt.

“What, uh… what do you mean?” The familiar chill was back. Her body was shrinking.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Megan grabbed the chair and turned it around, scraping across the floor.

Zoey forced her head up, clawing against the chains her fear shackled her with. She expected fury, cruelty or at least horror on her sister’s face. Not the hurt or betrayal that was present instead.

“You should’ve told me,” Megan said and pulled her own chair close, “When’d you start transitioning?”

“I… Megan, do you really think I’d still look like this and have a penis?” Zoey frowned, uncertain of her sister’s intelligence.

Megan shrugged, “I’ve heard of stranger things.”

“I guess,” Zoey mumbled. The chill was fading.

“So, when were you planning to tell mom and dad?”

“Never,” Zoey said, “I’m not… I’m not trans.”

“All I know is, I remember you being a girl last time I saw you naked, and now I definitely felt a dick. So what happened? Take some steroids or something?”

“No!” Zoey snapped, “I’m still a girl. I’m still me. I just have a penis now.”

“Prove it,” Megan said.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re still a girl. You’ve gotta still have a vagina to be girl, right?”

“There’re shemales.”

“Yeah, but they’re more like girly boys who identify as women. I spend a lot of time on the internet, Zoey. I know my shit.”

“Can’t always trust the internet,” Zoey said.

“True. So, you gonna prove it?” Megan urged.

“I… fine,” Zoey sighed, defeated. Maybe if she showed this off and Megan reverted to her old, abusive self then any desire she felt would disappear? She hoped so.

Zoey stood and turned away, then dropped her pants. She didn’t have any underwear on; they kept getting soaked in pre-cum during the night. Only as she bent over, legs slightly parted, that she questioned why she gave in so easily. She had nothing to prove to Megan, or to herself, and it wasn’t fear that made her reach back to part her cheeks. Then what?

Megan answered her unspoken question with a soft gasp. Warmth returned to Zoey. She swallowed a hum of approval as embers spread throughout her form. They were flickers of pride and growth, the former almost as familiar as when she shrank. Satisfied, Zoey stood and faced her sister, who clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Happy?” Zoey asked.

“I… yeah. Yeah, I am. Jesus, where’d you hide that thing?”

Zoey didn’t answer. She forced her face into a flat expression, betraying none of the rising embarrassment and traitorous desire bubbling inside, as she pulled her pants back up. Now someone knew. It was inevitable, of course, but she’d hoped it would be Carmen, or at least someone she felt could be trusted. Rachel was a close second.

“Hey! I was looking at that,” Megan complained and went for Zoey’s pants, but the athlete, her body restored and augmented, danced away from her. It was a hopeless endeavour on Megan’s part, though she was nothing if not persistent. She chased Zoey throughout the kitchen, trying to cut her off, failing, then attempting another tactic. None worked in the face of Zoey’s athleticism, as she sashayed around Megan’s grabbing hands. Before long, both forgot the point and were laughing.

“Ugh, fine! You win, you win!” Megan said and slumped into a chair. A smile clashed with her brattish tone. Zoey also sat, reciprocating the grin. Sweat gleamed on their skin, it sucked their clothes to their skin, highlighting each other’s figures, though Megan’s was superior in curves.

“Come on, just let me see it again. I’ve never seen one that big before,” Megan said.

Zoey was on a high. She was winded from running in short bursts, heart palpitating in her chest and endorphins sailing through her veins. But that wasn’t the reason for her grin, or why she relented once more. They’d chased each other like that when they were kids, sometimes to rescue a toy or just for the fun of it, and Megan had always won. By the time Zoey outgrew her, Megan had ended the game. Any attempt to resuscitate it on Zoey’s part went unheeded. It inspired a new credence to Megan apparent reformation.

So she dropped her pants once more and let Megan have her fun. The older sister scooted closer and leaned down to inspect the slab of meat, for it lacked any better description. Zoey hadn’t seen any others herself, only a few online, even so she knew they didn’t compare to hers. Not when the covered crown rested halfway down her thigh. On her legs that meant more than most.

She couldn’t guess how tall she was, but it was safe to bet her legs were at least three feet long. From hip to knee was about a foot and a half of space, and her phallus hung at half that. Approximately nine inches of flaccid masculinity made feminine by virtue of being attached to her form. Zoey’s smirk widened.

Megan cursed under her breath as she studied it, hands coiling over each other with a barely restrained desire to touch it. She had plenty of lovers to her name, yet she was overwhelmed by this single cock, attached to her sister no less. For the moment, it laid dormant. An elegant network of blue veins worked underneath the thick skin, ready and waiting for an inevitable erection, all leading to the uncircumcised head. They began from the base, where a set of terrifying balls rested.

“I thought trannies were supposed to be small,” Megan said.

“I’m not a tranny. You know that,” Zoey said, watching her. The elation had faded now, replaced with confusion at her sibling’s closing proximity. Still, she didn’t move, even as Megan’s breaths reached her member. If they were together in that way, Zoey wouldn’t have a chance to worry over her feelings for Carmen, or about any other relationship. They’d be sneaking around everywhere, covering for one another, taking comfort at night or when they were together and no one knew them.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea. They were sisters, so they knew each other better than most couples ever could, and they already lived together. Solace from stress or Gretchen was one door down from her room. If they were together like that.

“Megan…” Zoey said and stopped, seeing the phone in Megan’s hand. The elder sibling leaned back and snapped a picture, just as the horror of it all dawned on Zoey, her face going slack as she stared at the lens.

“Can’t wait to post this,” Megan giggled, “What’ll everyone think when they see my sister’s so fucking hung.”

“Don’t!” Zoey shouted and lashed out. She stood, reaching for the phone. Her fingers brushed it, but her pants caught around her ankles and tripped her. The tiled floor halted her crash with a loud smack. Her vision swam and recovered. It wasn’t a serious fall; her hand had caught her just in time.

“Sorry, already done. Thanks for sharing sis,” Megan said and strolled out. The front door opened and shut.

Zoey put her phone on silent. It was a few minutes after Megan had posted it, but already her phone was blaring with notifications, mostly from Twitter, compliments of Gretchen’s followers. Another minute later and she deleted the app. Everyone knew. Not just the school, but all the college kids Megan talked to, and even their parents. That meant questions, doctor appointments, possibly being withdrawn from the race on Wednesday next week.

Anxiety didn’t linger for long, however. The beast curled into a ball in its cage, embracing its new shackles like a koala, as another monster stepped into the space of Zoey’s mind. It wasn’t a dog. No, this was a wolf. It didn’t curl in her lap, didn’t adore her. It was there to fuel her emotions then leave.

Zoey got dressed and headed for school. Carmen had told her to stay out for a couple of days, to avoid Gretchen, but Gretchen was exactly who she wanted to see. The sooner the better. Everyone knew Zoey by reputation, not as a runner, but as the principal’s daughter’s Pitbull. That was gone, of course. What kind of queen bee could tolerate being associated with someone like her? So she intended to lay that rumour to rest, and perhaps spark a new one.

As what? Some kind of valiant hero who fought against Gretchen’s tyranny? Absolutely not. This was for herself. If Gretchen thought she was still a pushover, then that needed to be rectified. Even she wouldn’t go after someone who could defend themselves, hence why the few students who took martial arts classes were left alone.

“Zoey Parker, the principal wants to see you,” a teacher told her after she stepped inside. Zoey scowled down at them, but headed to the office. Getting expelled made it even better. One less thing to worry about when she saw Gretchen. People sneered at her and she returned the expression. Fire crackled within each of her extremities, elongating them, empowering her.

“You wanted to see me?” Zoey asked, stepping into Principal Blake’s office. It was a mess, wholly unlike the intimidating organisation she expected. Papers were scattered about the floor and the bookshelves along the walls had mismatched collections along the rows. At its centre was a desk, the epicentre of disruption. Principal Blake sat there, haggard and slouched forward, head in her hands.

“Yes, thank you, Zoey,” she said and straightened her back. Heavy bags lined her eyes, like brutal bruises a boxer might own, “Take a seat. Now, the reason I called you here, is that picture.” Zoey said nothing. The simmering well of anger kept her controlled.

“It doesn’t exist,” Principal Blake said, though her voice was more a sigh now, as if she was caught between speaking and yawning at all times, “You’re going to race next week. You’re going to win.”

“Why?” Zoey asked. Her expressionless mask cracked a bit, revealing the confusion underneath.

“This school needs some notoriety. It’s on the verge of closure,” the principal said, gaze sweeping over the mess of paperwork, “Aside from you and Carmen and Gretchen, we have no exceptional students. So, I need…”

“You realise Gretchen isn’t here most days, right?” Zoey said. The words escaped her like bile.

“What? Of course she is. Her attendance is perfect.”

Zoey was too far in now. If she could convince Principal Blake of Gretchen’s disgusting nature, then everything might improve, “Ma’am, you’re being taken advantage of. Gretchen’s here for maybe an hour every day. I should know. She drags me around with her. Ever wondered why your credit cards are always rejected?”

“No, that’s not right,” Principal Blake sifted through a drawer, a deep frown highlighting the wrinkles of her face. She looked older than forty, closer to her mid or later fifties. Grey streaks ran through her hair, and her sunken eyes were framed in deep, solemn lines.

“Don’t bother,” Zoey sighed, “Sorry. May I go now?”

“Uh, yes. Thank you,” Principal Blake said and hunched forward, relieved to have one task over with. She looked ready to pass out the moment she got too comfortable. Zoey left before her pity could overwhelm her patient rage.

What was Gretchen putting that women through? Zoey wondered as she strolled down the hall, heading to Gretchen’s first, and usually only lesson, of the day. People didn’t age like the principal without considerable stress, which didn’t come from simply running a dying school. There was no sign that she was working to revitalise the place beyond her daughter’s selfish demands.

“You little fucking shit!” That venom was as famous as any cobra’s. Zoey turned in the hall and abandoned her thoughts to see Gretchen a few feet away, backed by half a dozen girls. They were the biggest in the school, which didn’t say much. No one in Saint Puella was allowed to go overweight. Another reason it was failing.

Zoey pulled the leash from her rage. She’d allowed it to surface briefly yesterday, when she had punched Gretchen, almost breaking her nose in the process. A faint bruise marked where her fist had landed. Zoey strode over to the group, glad that Rachel wasn’t among them. Aside from Gretchen, they were the tallest in the school, all of them an inch or two below six feet.

One had broad shoulders and defined arms, another possessed a cruel sneer and clear abs, the rest followed a similar vein. They were pulled together at the last minute. For one purpose. The dog that was Zoey’s anxiety whimpered at the promise of pain that awaited her, but the massive wolf howled in jubilation. It was a fighter. Blood, pain and exhilaration were what it craved. And here stood seven willing sacrifices to give it exactly that.

One opened her mouth. Zoey pushed aside any doubt, she wouldn’t get expelled, not when Principal Blake needed her to win that race, and punched. She’d taken a couple of boxing classes in middle school, when the bullying got worse. It didn’t take. She always ran and hid from the fights, so she settled for track. Even so, she still remember how to throw a punch.

One of the pack fell in shock. Another went to tackle Zoey and got a fist in the face. Then the rest were on her, Gretchen on the side lines, kicking whenever Zoey presented the opportunity. It wasn’t the drawn out beating that some movies portrayed. This was over in seconds. Zoey was helpless against six scrappy girls, plus one spoiled brat. They soon knocked her unconscious, though not before she’d left several of their faces bloody and swollen.

“Hey?”

Zoey opened her eyes and squinted. She was in a bed, looking at a filthy ceiling that was once white. There was no one around to clean it, not since the janitorial staff were fired. One remained, but one elderly man wouldn’t do much. This was the nurse’s room, though it was a dismal representation. One bed, no privacy or door, and no nurse. She only worked three days a week, sometimes two.

But there was someone there. Zoey frowned and focused on them. It was Carmen. Of course it was. Who else would help her? Rachel was stuck maintaining appearances as Gretchen’s friend, and Ashley was no better. Mary or Dakota might’ve helped, though.

“Hey,” Zoey said.

“So much for laying low, huh?” Carmen teased. Zoey was silent. She swept her gaze across Carmen’s form, drinking her in like a plant after a drought. What god decided that this girl should be so beautiful, so smart and caring that she would drive Zoey to get into a fight?

“What happened?” Carmen asked.

“I got angry,” Zoey stated.

“I noticed,” Carmen said, “I tried stepping in, but half the school was there.”

“Thanks,” Zoey said and turned away.

“Why’d you go mad?”

“No reason.”

“Okay,” Carmen said, her tone doubtful, “You’ve gotten a lot bigger, I see.”

“What?” Zoey snapped her head around, then looked down at herself. Her arm was a in a sling, not broken, but it would be a few days before it healed. There were no other injuries of that nature that she could see. Even so, her height change overshadowed any pain. Her feet hung off the bed, and she was sat up. Granted, the bed was small, a throw away from a paediatrician’s office.

“I’d say about seven feet,” Carmen said, answering the question Zoey hadn’t thought of yet.

Zoey didn’t have words for it, “Whoa,” came out, yet it didn’t aptly describe the scene before her.

“I’ve gotta go. Second period is starting soon.”

“Carmen, wait!” Zoey said and reached out, grabbing the honour student’s hand. She released it an instant later, “I… Look, I know you’re with someone and everything, but… I love you.” Perhaps the hesitation had been knocked from her brain in the fight, or maybe the wolf had imprinted some of itself on the dog, regardless of the reason, she had finally said them; those words that had tormented her for just a few days that felt like years.

“Zoey,” Carmen said and looked around, as if for a script or something, “Look, I’m flattered, but it’s not… Sorry. The thing is, I’m only in the relationship I have right now because it works for me. I can’t afford to take time off work or studies for dates. I can’t talk on the phone. I can’t even text freely. That’s my situation. Stacy and I work together, so I can see and talk to her pretty much whenever without losing anything. And I need school to study. If I was with something else, well, I don’t see it working.”

“I know,” Zoey said and looked down at herself, “Have you heard the rumour about me?”

“What rumour?”

“That I have a dick,” Zoey said and glanced at Carmen. Shock flitted across her face, but not the same way it had for Megan. This was a different expression of surprise, not the kind meant for a stunning reveal such as Zoey’s, but rather a shock that she would freely admit it. Or was it not that amazing? Mary had one after all. Did having a cock mean nothing anymore?

“Do you?” Carmen asked, sooner than most might have.

“Yes,” Zoey whispered, still unsure what to make of Carmen’s response.

“Why tell me?” Carmen asked.

“Because you… because you’re the only one I can trust, besides Rachel. You don’t make fun of people. I’ve seen you. You helped Mary and Dakota. No one else did. Do you have any idea how few people like you there are?” Zoey asked, and took her hand again, this time holding it firm.

Her words were both an affirmation to herself that Carmen was somehow perfection made human, and an attempt to justify why she was so infatuated. Who wouldn’t be when faced with someone so kind? So merciful they’d help people who once tormented them? So beautiful that even the anger that had contorted her features when they first met couldn’t hide it?

“I’m not a good person,” Carmen said, so soft Zoey almost missed it. A flash of guilt clouded her dazzling eyes.

“Yes, you are,” Zoey affirmed. Something within urged her to grip harder, to squeeze out every drop of sorrow that tainted this stunning woman. No, they didn’t taint her, Zoey thought. Those eyes wallowed in something like sorrow, but it wasn’t. It was beauty as well. Part of her wondered if Carmen was incapable of anything less, another argued why she should even care.

“Fine,” Carmen said and withdrew her hand, “I’m a good person. What’s your point?”

“Nothing,” Zoey said, “I just wanted you to know how I felt. Did I mention you’re beautiful?”

That got a different reaction. Carmen’s hands jerked toward her face, froze part way and dropped. A slight smile graced her lips.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Carmen said, “That said… I’m not above bribery.”

“What do you mean?”

“Win that race next week, and you’ll see.”

“That’s not really bribery is it?”

“It is, but think of it as more of an incentive. Even if you get given a hard time, you’d better win. I’ll give you a reward,” Carmen said, a subtle flare in her eyes. Not of anger or shame, but of seduction.

Zoey’s cock twitched beneath the covers. She chuckled as Carmen left the room, “How can I say no?”

19

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 18 - Breaking Point

“She’s avoiding me,” Carmen said, sipping at her coffee. She was sat in Stacy’s office once more, both taking their slight reprieve from the first rush of the day, though neither could afford to take long. In the last week, the flood of customers had worsened, as had their insistence that Carmen be front and centre. Stacy had said business on Carmen’s off-days was pitiful by comparison.

“This Zoey girl?” Stacy asked, sighing into her own steaming cup.

“Yeah. I’m not sure what it is,” Carmen shook her head, “Well, I kind of do.” She glanced at her girlfriend, despite only having one date thus far, and grimaced at the guilt she felt. Zoey’s attraction to her was her fault. It never would have come to fruition without the Futa Note.

“She’s into you, isn’t she?”

“How’d…”

“Honey, I’m not blind. Nor am I worried,” Stacy said and set her drink aside to lean forward. They were close, chairs side by side and legs touching. It was the best intimacy either could hope for until Stacy could get another day off, which neither could guess. The rent had gone up for the property, as had the prices on ingredients, and the oversaturation of customers on Carmen’s shifts left both exhausted. All Stacy’s time was devoted to keeping track of everything.

But physical intimacy wasn’t the cause for Carmen’s love for her. It was amazing to kiss and hold her, to taste the milk that weighed heavily on Stacy’s chest, and to come within reach of going all the way. The tease was horrible yet marvellous, leaving Carmen with her libido blazing and her self-control strained.

“You’re a good woman. I doubt you’d cheat on me. Not that I’m really opposed to it,” Stacy said.

“What?” Carmen asked, certain that she’d misheard her boss. The answer would wait. The second rush was coming, lecherous eyes combing the surroundings for Carmen. Rather, her tits. She couldn’t blame them. On anyone else, she would have done much the same, though she would be far subtler. Some didn’t even try to steal glances at her chest, instead they just gawked at her as they ordered the same thing as always. They left healthy tips at least.

An hour later and the rush had stemmed into droplets of wonderers. Carmen slouched against the counter, sighing and scowling as her breasts were squished and the weight on her back relieved. They popped out from her ragged shirt, which hung too low to conceal her abundance of cleavage. Just the shirt was enough to gird her breasts enough to form the crevice, though she lacked a bra.

“Don’t worry about Zoey,” Stacy said while she organised some cups, ready for the prospect of another onslaught, “She’s probably just dealing with her own feelings right now. Being gay in high school can’t be easy.”

“No, it’s not,” Carmen agreed, though middle school was as bad, if not worse.

“So, uh,” Stacy cleared her throat, “I’ve been hiring lately and I might have a couple of new recruits coming in soon.”

“Oh?” Carmen arched her eyebrow and turned to face her. The shop floor was empty, but neither expected it to remain that way for long. Even so, a moment to enjoy their relationship was welcome. Regardless of how fleeting it was. Stacy also faced her, full face glowing with a nervous grin.

“That means I might be able to schedule a few vacation days. Get out of the city for a bit, somewhere quiet. You’ve got graduation coming up, right?”

“Yeah,” Carmen said and leaned forward, anticipation rumbled in the back of her mind and made her heart gallop.

“Good, because you’re more than welcome to join me. It’ll be my present to you. You’ll still be paid of course.”

“A few days all to ourselves? I can’t say no,” Carmen closed the distance and kissed her, groaning at the sweet aroma that surrounded Stacy and the taste of her lips. Joy and lust danced as one, both rejoicing the potential of this invitation. A trickle of moisture down her inner thigh sent a lustful shudder up her spine. She slid her hands along Stacy’s hips to cup her delicious ass, while her boss reciprocated.

The door open and they jumped apart, curves jiggling. Carmen cast a sidelong glance at her, sighed and resumed her professional manner. Two months, she could hold out for that long. The torment would be worth it to have all that time with Stacy. Alone, uninterrupted, free to express the lust she’d built up.

Familiar fantasies surged to life as she served customers. It was a steady flow of their usual clientele, none demanded extra attention from her, leaving Carmen’s prodigious mind to wander from scene to scene. Her and Stacy entwined, milk splattered all over their skin, kissing and moaning as their ground their pussies against each other’s thigh. Or locked in a 69 position, crying out into the other’s pussy. Again, she wondered how Stacy’s must taste. Would it be tarter than her own, or sweeter? How juicy? How soft? How quick to cum?

Carmen banished those thoughts. She was flustered, a burn in her cheeks and loins. A snide chuckle at her side brought Ryuka back into focus, her presence igniting the fire further. For as much as she acted indifferent to the Seikogami, Ryuka was the epitome of sexual extravagance. To ignore her was an impossible task. No matter how often she woke and saw the goddess floating nearby, the sight still captivated her.

No, it was worse than captivation. Carmen lusted for her. Every night, when she tried to fall asleep amidst her stifling arousal, stray thoughts of relieving herself would come through. She wanted to ignore Ryuka and let her body have the release it craved, but that wasn’t accurate. Masturbation would be a relief, but not a solution. Only two answers stared her in the face day after day, and neither would acceptable. Choosing Ryuka meant accepting defeat, and pressuring Stacy into it might ruin their relationship.

Mary and Dakota were a potential third and fourth, but that meant cheating on Stacy. Zoey was another option. Stop it. Carmen raked her nails along her thigh, lashing her desire with pain. Giving up wasn’t an option. She had to focus on studies and work. Anything that might compromise them was an impossibility.

Yet that didn’t change how bad she craved it.

                Streamers of white vaulted from the dark tip to splash across her face and body. One crashed against her chest, splashing onto the mounds she hadn’t grown accustomed to, while another glued her hair and a third rushed the wall above her head. As the blasts quieted, she lurched forward and caught the remainder in her mouth. Her loud gulps urged her balls to clench and deliver a thicker finale.

Zoey came free with a laboured gasp. Rivulets of cum had escaped her lips and coursed down her chin, joining the rest that had poured across her skin and the previous, drying loads. She stroked her cock, wringing the viscous dregs from it, and savoured the afterglow. Beneath her balls, her pussy pulsated in its own, weaker climax. How many was that now?

She’d woken earlier than normal with dread writhing in her stomach. Today was the day. Her first race since meeting Carmen, since her body underwent excessive changes, and since she stepped out from underneath her own despair. Now that fear was back. It had infested her nightmares, tormenting her with everything that could go wrong; she could trip, or expose herself, orgasm for no reason, try to fuck a competitor. Or she was simply too slow. Even now, after cumming more than three times to rid herself of the sensation, anxiety threatened to drown her.

Sunlight spilt through the clouds overhead. It would be a nice enough day; no rain was forecasted and the wind was down. No excuses. Any failure was her own. But why would she fail?

Zoey wasn’t the same runner as before, in both the physical and metaphorical. She ducked under her doorway and into the bathroom, hoping to clean herself before Megan got up. Things were complicated with her. Her sister’s claims at turning over a new leaf weren’t unfounded, as she had found a job and she acted less like a bitch every day, but she was still the modern Megan. Worse, she acted too friendly toward Zoey. Not as a sister should.

Disgusting though it was, she wondered time and again if Megan was attracted to her. The shorter sibling still wore skimpy clothes, though now she seemed to have them targeted toward Zoey, often exposing that delicate bit of thigh that intersected with an ass cheek, or adjusting her low-cut shirts to flash a hint of nipple. Sometimes she swore Megan moaned her name at night.

Not that Megan’s attraction was unfounded. Zoey hadn’t taken pride in anything but her legs for all her life, overshadowed or put down by Mary, Gretchen and others, though she would be hard pressed to refute the stunning figure she now sported. She had become every women’s sports fans greatest dream; luscious thighs and hips slathered in muscle and fat, a sleek waist, a hint of abs, and her breasts overflowed her hands when she cupped them. Discipline and excess – femininity and power – embodied her towering frame.

“Nothing to worry about,” Zoey told her reflection. Not a speck of cum remained, all wiped clean or shovelled into her mouth. Her arms rippled with sleek muscles as she gripped the sink, staring down the snivelling beast that wanted to break free, “You’ve… I’ve got this. Who’s gonna try anything anyway? They’d have to be stupid.” They would indeed. No one walked up to a seven-foot athlete and intimidated them, doing so would have the reverse effect.

Then again, they didn’t have to walk up to her. A glare or scowl from afar would be adequate. She shook her head at herself and left. That was the old Zoey. Even Gretchen didn’t frighten her as much anymore, though being within view of the unstable bitch set her on edge. What chance did strangers have?

The race wasn’t until late morning, following the relay and other team contests, none of which Zoey was part of. No one on the track team, few as they were, liked being in the same room. They even insisted that Zoey change after them, lest she try to spy on one of the girls, of which she wasn’t anymore. They didn’t care that she still had her vagina, all they saw was the bulge in her gym shorts and musculature. She was the freak tranny to them.

Ms. Blake had done all she could to keep the bullying to a minimum, going so far as to persuade Gretchen to leave her be. That wouldn’t last long. Every second spent around them exacerbated into what felt like hours, tension dense as the thicket of ancient cobwebs in every corner. No words were exchanged beyond derisive remarks.

A grin teased her lips as she readied herself for the day. No comment heard had gone unreturned, though her retorts were less inventive then her former allies. Her height didn’t care if she said something lame or repetitive, so long as she didn’t tolerate the abuse, and with her improved vantage point she couldn’t lose. Not when her legs rippled with power and dwarfed even her father’s lanky limbs.

“Morning Zoey,” Megan said, entering the kitchen.

Zoey sat at the table, chugging down her breakfast, and averted her eyes. Once more, Megan presented her body without shame. One strap of her tank top hung over one arm and threatened to slip further, while her shorts struggled to stretch over the bodacious curve of her rear. Not one inch of her plump legs was concealed. If it wasn’t her, Zoey might have enjoyed the view. Perhaps if it was Carmen? …yes.

No! Zoey shook the thoughts loose before her imagination resuscitated her slumbering cock. She choked down her cereal, grabbed a protein bar and bag, and rushed out. Megan called after her, but the words faded away. She couldn’t afford to exhaust her on further fantasies. She needed focus to make everything come to fruition, then there wouldn’t be a need to imagine everything.

She’d avoided Carmen for that exact reason. Being around her, knowing she was unattainable for the meantime, drove Zoey’s sex drive wild. Every hour of every day, without fail, she would conjure Carmen’s image and contemplate how her skin must feel, how her boobs bounced, if her butt was as firm as it looked behind her skirt. Best and worst of all, Zoey pondered what her pussy was like.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Zoey muttered as she power walked to Saint Puella. She needed to handle these urges and keep them segregated until after the race. Which she would win and, if Carmen’s words in the infirmary held any weight, quench her curiosity. It might be a lie, yet it also could be. Not from Carmen. Other people deceived their way through life, but she couldn’t be one of them.

The school towered into view, casting its shadow across the sidewalk and road and all who walked them. Zoey didn’t linger in its darkness. She was done cowering beneath something, and headed to the field, past the silhouette. And frowned.

People were on the field. Runners, she assumed from how they moved, but none wore the customary skirt, opting instead for a pair of shorts that allowed excellent manoeuvrability. She hung back to observe them, while annoyance stirred beneath her skin. Who were they to encroach on the one place she could truly relax?

Someone spotted her and jogged over. They were a typical athlete. Mid-length hair tied back in a tall ponytail, sharp features to cut down wind resistance and a honed body designed for sport, though she only came up to the futa’s chest Zoey noted.

“Hi,” the runner panted, “I’m Beth, from Northland High? You’re Zoey, right?”

“Yeah,” Zoey said, thinning her eyes in caution.

“Jesus, you’re just as tall as Michelle said you were.”

“Michelle?” The name was familiar, as was their high schools, she just couldn’t place it.

“Oi! Michelle!” Beth waved to someone, who approached with a calm stride that exuded confidence.

“Oh shit! That you, Zo-Zo?”

A few feet separated them and Zoey recognised her now. Michelle had several striking features, the least of which being her musculature. Neon pink hair cropped short into a faux-hawk, dominant jawline and nose, stacked a body pure power. It wasn’t at the level of a body builder, nor was it the sleek form most runners sought. Square shoulders, stocky torso and a pair of legs layered in muscles. If not for her height that put her level with Zoey’s collarbone, she would appear ridiculous. Instead, she simply exuded strength.

And intimidation, “Looks like you filled out. At least you beat me in something,” Michelle said, smirking, “But you still look puny. How’s the twigs holding you up?”

Zoey swallowed her response, afraid of what might come out. Frost bit into her veins. Her fingers were numb, as were her feet and legs. The fist she wanted to make refused to form. Phantom voices taunted her, all Michelle’s, and long healed aches spread across her body. Gretchen had salted the ground on which her self-confidence had been razed, but it was Michelle who brought it to that state. And, unlike the bitch queen, Michelle had no issue with physical enforcement.

“Cat got your tongue? That’s alright,” Michelle clapped a hand on Zoey’s shoulder. A moment ago it was above her eyeline, now they were even. She squeezed, nails sinking deep into the once tall redhead’s shoulder, “You’re gonna lose again, right? Wouldn’t want an accident?”

“No,” Zoey said and shuddered, realising she wasn’t refusing Michelle but agreeing with her. The world had returned to its former stature and dominated her. She was tiny, an insignificant speck on the Earth to be walked over once more. Saint Puella was no longer a school, but her personal hell. It offered her hope under the guise of a curse, and ripped it away once she got comfortable. The chill stopped, but she was still quivering. Michelle’s stomach filled her view.

“Good. If I lost to a little shrimp like you, I’d probably kill myself,” Michelle laughed and gave Zoey a pat on the head, like she was a diminutive dog, “Now run along. You’re distracting.”

Zoey left and turned the corner, stopped and looked up at the wall she encountered. It was Carmen. Was it frustration? Sorrow? Anger? All three played in her mind as she clung to the honour student, snivelling into her clothes like a child with their mother. This is what everything she’d done had amounted to; failure.

“I’m sorry,” Zoey said for what must have been the hundredth time. They were sat in the destitute library, now devoid of the books it needed to be called such. Zoey cradled a bottle of sugar water, while Carmen reclined opposite her, calm and in control as always. She hadn’t said a word.

“You should be,” Carmen finally said, “You go and punch Gretchen, get your ass kicked and still walk around like you own the place, then one freak shows up and look at you!”

Zoey flinched away. She was well aware of what she had become. Even Rachel was taller than her now, probably stronger too. A kitten could intimidate her.

“You don’t know her,” Zoey said, “She’s worse than Gretchen.”

“I doubt it.”

“Gretchen never sent someone home with a broken arm. And nose. Or nearly popped someone’s shoulder out,” Zoey wrapped her arms around herself. Michelle hadn’t done any of those things to anyone but her. She was the competition, the only one who ran at the same pace. Of course Michelle would target her, “I almost ended up paralysed because of her.”

The calm on Carmen’s face vanished, pulled past the point of return and into an abyss of rage. Her full lips tightened into a thin line, her eyes twitched, her hands came together in a furious embrace. She took deep, shuddering breaths.

“Why are you angry?” Zoey asked, “It’s not like she did anything to you.”

Carmen ignored her, “She did all that because you were better than her, didn’t she?”

“Maybe,” Zoey shrugged.

“Then beat her,” Carmen said and relaxed, though her body remained taut and fury crackled behind her cobalt eyes, “Make her look like the petty bitch she is.”

“I can’t. Look at me!” Zoey laughed and stood, shoulders barely above the three-and-a-half-foot table, “I couldn’t beat a fucking turtle, let alone the fucking hare.”

“Then just grow!” Carmen also stood, glaring down at her, “I don’t care what you think you’re capable of. Because, right now, you still think some steroid freak is better. So, instead, you’re going to ignore anything your brain says. You,” Carmen leaned forward until her face almost cross the table and peered deep into Zoey’s eyes, “Are going to win.”

“I can’t,” Zoey whispered and hung her head. The last time she was on a track with Michelle, in an actual competition that she wanted to win, she woke up in hospital. A ‘nasty fall’ was the apparent cause. She didn’t believe it for one second. Silence hovered then was torn asunder at the brutal crack across her cheek.

“It may sound stupid, but I want you to win,” Carmen said, “Don’t believe in yourself, then. Just believe in me. Because I believe in you.”

“That does sound stupid,” Zoey snickered, a flicker of warmth chased away the sting in her cheek.

“Fine, whatever. But it’s true,” Carmen reclaimed her seat and sighed, exasperated, “I could take care of Michelle for you.”

“What?”

“I could make it so she could never run again.”

“That’s…” Zoey recognised that Carmen was smart, but her physical strength had never seemed apparent before. Was she some kind of martial art master? Otherwise, Zoey saw no means for Carmen to beat Michelle in a contest of strength, not with that sleek build and heart-stealing curves. Yet she had a confident inferno in her eyes. Maybe she could handle it?

No. Michelle was brute force incarnated in middle school, after four years, she didn’t want to imagine what she was capable of. But Carmen’s mind was made up. If Zoey did nothing, if she stayed there and snivelled like a coward in her tiny body, then Carmen would take matters into her own hands. She would get hurt, no telling how severely, and everything would be Zoey’s fault. All because she let her fear overpower her again.

“I’ll do it,” Zoey said.

“Good,” Carmen said and sighed, no doubt relieved. She glanced at her bag, slung over the back of the chair beside, and shook her head, “If she tries anything during the race, I’ll step in. Also, don’t know if it helps, but that reward I mentioned is still on the table.”

“You never specified what that is,” Zoey said, leaning forward to try and discern any further hints. A red hue spread across Carmen’s cheeks and she looked at her cracked watch.

“Gotta go. Classes are starting,” Carmen said and fled, though her expression had told Zoey everything she needed to know, and reinforced her drive to win. What could Michelle do in the face of Zoey’s unfaltering libido? Once roused, her sex drive refused to be silenced without reward. Her cock remained dormant though, quelled by the promise and her uncertainty. She rubbed at the cheek Carmen had slapped and hushed her thoughts; nothing would be gained by thinking about it.

Those participating in the small event were omitted from classwork. As such, Zoey lingered in the library until it was time for the race. Without anyone to spark her growth, she remained tiny, no taller than a prepubescent. That would change. She exited the building and headed to the dilapidated field.

It was surrounded by small groups. Some were previous participants, most exhausted and laughing together while they relaxed, others were parents, friends or teachers come to observe. Only one group stood out. It was a pair of men with cameras, looking unimpressed. Ms. Blake was close to them, casting furtive glances around. She must’ve invited some media to watch and report the proceedings, likely promising that she had a star athlete amongst her otherwise mediocre students.

Zoey wasn’t that star. Not yet. She caught several stares cast her way, most from Saint Puella students, others from the visiting schools. They all lorded superiority over her, some added disgust to the mix. Holly was amongst the visitors, whispering to them while sneering at her.

“Not today bitch,” Zoey snapped under her breath and glared back, infusing every shred of anger, every second of her life she had spent despising Michelle and Gretchen into her gaze, fixed squarely on Holly. The girl’s confidence crumbled and she sank back. Warmth surged at her reaction. Zoey glanced down at herself and beamed. She stifled a moan of delight as she regained some of her lost height. The rest would return soon. Once she beat Michelle.

She hadn’t spent the past week just improving her confidence. With a cock like hers, one long enough that it nearly touched her knees when she was seven feet tall, her running technique needed to change. Wrong moves jostled or pinched her balls, or made them slap against her thighs as she pumped her legs. A sling of sorts, more akin to a bra, reduced the sway.

The other girls in the race were talking amongst themselves. Michelle was with her own school, surrounded by girls who flinched at the slightest move. Even their coach steered clear. It was obvious Michelle hadn’t relinquished her old ways, worse, she had shared them amongst everyone in her track team. Only one person, Beth, seemed impervious. The two would glance at each other on occasion and, though it was faint or a trick of the light, Zoey saw affection there. It made sense. Michelle hadn’t shown any interest in boys, even the feminine types who loved to be dominated.

“Runners! Gather!” Someone called. The referee, Zoey assumed and approached the starting line. She saw Michelle force her way beside her, but kept her gaze straight ahead.

“Thought you’d have chickened out, Zo-Zo,” Michelle said.

“Shut up,” Zoey snapped, heart palpitating. She shouldn’t provoke her. But with so many people present, and some with eyes fixed attentively on the athletes, Michelle couldn’t get away with much. Afterwards was another matter. That could wait. Winning was all that mattered, everything else was secondary for the meantime.

Michelle drew close, her hulking frame blocking all view of the twisted face she now wore, “I will fucking destroy you.”

“Try it,” Zoey said. Despite her fear, the embers of growth distributed around her frame, empowering and elongating it, “If you can catch me that is.”

“Once I win,” Michelle said and drew back. Her features contorted to a sinister grin, “I am going to snap off both your legs.”

“You’d need the handicap.”

“Oh? Someone’s got a spine all of a sudden. What, did you stick your dick in some whore? Yeah, I know about it. Bet you’ve got a puny little twig. Like everything else.”

“Still bigger than yours,” Zoey said. Everyone in Saint Puella knew she had a cock, not only that, but anyone who believed Megan’s picture knew it was quite the endowment. Why would she care if Michelle also knew? She glanced at her tormentor, who had fallen quiet. Shock and horror clouded her face, “Wait… you actually have one too?”

“Breathe a word and it’ll be the last thing you see when I choke you to death,” Michelle snarled.

“On the marks!”

Zoey assumed her position and fixed her eyes dead ahead. She could worry about Michelle later.

“Get set!”

A tall figure stepped into view. Zoey’s heart leapt; it was Carmen.

“GO!”

Zoey didn’t think. Her body moved the instant the announcer exhaled, bolting forward as if to capture Carmen and never let go. All else but the glorious girl faded from existence, as if she consumed it all. Warmth suffused Zoey’s body, desire and growth mingling as she ran. Her muscles contracted and released in tandem, creating the perfect harmony within her. No one else could encroach on this space. This was Zoey’s territory, her mind, her field of release. A realm pervaded by Carmen and herself alone.

Then a thick-bodied gorilla rampaged through the beauty. Michelle had caught up. Her body glistened already, veins spread across her form in a haphazard display of brute strength. She took the lead and Zoey saw, for a second, the keen bulge of masculinity. It was true.

Then why didn’t she approach her earlier and relate? If they both had the same mutation, then why couldn’t Michelle show sympathy. Someone had likely discovered Michelle’s before and ostracised her for it, no doubt leading to her current personality, but there was no reason for her to be alone anymore. They could share each other’s worries and pain. Instead, she chose to remain the same malicious bitch. She was the brute form of Gretchen.

Someone like that couldn’t be allowed to win. Someone like her couldn’t force Zoey back into the shadows. No one would stand between Zoey and Carmen. That’s what this ‘woman’ was doing by pushing so hard.

Get back here, Zoey thought and pressed harder. Someone had almost caught up, but an enraged glance back forced them to stumble and retreat. The embers caught one another and ignited into an inferno. Her awareness retreated once more, focused on Michelle, who appeared as a blot on the world in her vision, an impious spot that needed to be erased or taken down several notches. Who better to do so than Zoey?

Michelle glanced back and stepped up the pace. It was futile. Fear still festered in Zoey’s mind, eager to break free and consume her, yet the fire kept the whimpering creature at bay. Each attempt it made at controlling her that she foiled, the flame brightened and her body grew. Her strides lengthened into leaps and bounds, her arms pumped at her sides, her cock swelled and urged her on, while her curves returned. Vanity pushed her as much as her disdain for Michelle.

How could she lose like this? Her body was at its peak, infallible, and still improving. Michelle came into reach, then they were side by side, then… Zoey was falling. The ground found her face and slashed at it. Dirt snaked its way into the cuts, adrenaline ran rampant and dulled the pain. She came to a stop and looked up. Michelle crossed the finish line and was immediately approached by several people. Concern and guilt flashed across her face as they talked to her.

“Michelle Blitzkrieg is disqualified!” Someone announced. That didn’t make it any better. Zoey still lost. She stood, her ankle stabbed at her nervous system, and limped forward with her fists and jaw clenched tight. Grazes lined her face and arms. Her cock had escaped the brunt of it, though her balls ached from the impact. Nausea rolled in her stomach. She pushed on, intent on Michelle.

“Stop.”

Zoey turned and saw Carmen. Rage evaporated into a calm, which blew into the aether as tears welled up, borne from a mixture of pain and frustration. Arms were around her in moments and she returned the gesture. Any semblance of control had dissipated. What sense was there in stopping herself now? She caught Carmen by surprise and kissed her, but pulled apart an instant later, eyes downcast.

“Let’s go. I’ll look at your ankle,” Carmen said. Zoey sniffled and nodded, afraid any verbal response would break down into sobs. She spared a final glance around and saw Rachel staring at her with a blank expression, as if unable to process the events that unfolded. It didn’t matter.

                Halting her advance hadn’t been easy. Carmen felt more inclined to help than prevent, but it was better to keep Zoey away from trouble, especially with her injuries. The athlete limped along with her, slouched forward and trusting half her weight to Carmen. For mystical reasons she still hadn’t deciphered, the burden was minimal to her, as if she was carrying her baby sister once more, rather than an Amazon. Though Zoey better embodied femininity better than most Amazons did in myth.

Power radiated from the runner’s form. Muscles rippled under the surface of her skin, yet she was sleek and soft, endowed with a gorgeous set of breasts to boot. Carmen chided herself for letting her own preference interfere with her intentions for Zoey. The transformation was originally meant to alter her height – and penis – but nothing more, instead she’d included a sentence to bolster Zoey’s curves as well.

She set her down in an unused locker room. Most of the lockers were hanging on by the hinges, the walls were cracked, and the benches were either broken or had mould growing on them. Only one was in suitable condition. Zoey leaned back and wiped at her tears. Open cuts marred her face.

“This is gonna sting,” Carmen said. She had grabbed a first aid kit the second Zoey fell. Why? A medic was better trained to handle this. It was just practice, she reasoned. Doctors made an excellent living in the US. Perhaps med school was the way to go? Her grades were high enough that she could chance a scholarship with one. Though no college had made any offers yet, they were bound to come sooner or later.

Fresh tears boiled over as she cleaned Zoey’s cuts and scrapes. Carmen paused as she moved to the arms, suddenly aware of the bulge in her ward’s crotch. What kind of libido must futanari have to get horny while in pain? Or perhaps it was that large now, she hadn’t written a limit so it was possible. Her gaze flitted between the injuries on Zoey’s arm and her groin, certain the lump grew at each glance.

“Is everything alright? You know, aside from the obvious?” Carmen asked.

“Y-yeah,” Zoey said, though she avoided looking at her. A dull hue had settled on her light bronze cheeks.

“Are you aroused?”

“What?! I… oh god,” Zoey covered her crotch. The hue ripened into a bright crimson and covered her face from side to side, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Your endorphins are probably still going crazy, so you’re more prone to random bouts of arousal. I’d assume at least, the reading isn’t too clear on how one affects the other.”

“Do you research everything?”

“If I can,” Carmen said, silently cursing the Seikogami that hovered somewhere in the vicinity. She was never far.

“Then what about me? Why am I like this now?”

“Insufficient data,” Carmen sighed, “There’s no precedent for you, Zoey. This stuff just, sort of, happened. But… I’m glad it did.”

“Why?”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t miserable around Gretchen. Besides, you’re taller than you used to be. It’s,” Carmen cleared her throat, “It’s kind of attractive, really.” Tall girls weren’t a major deal for Carmen, she preferred curves over anything, yet she’d be a liar if she claimed Zoey’s height didn’t add a level of assurance. And a hint of intimidation, but that made it intriguing.

“You think I’m attractive?”

“Yes,” Carmen said.

“Even though I have a dick?”

“Everyone’s got one nowadays,” Carmen chuckled, “Maybe you, Mary and Dakota could start a support group?”

“Dakota has one?” Zoey asked.

“I thought you knew,” Carmen said and chided herself for revealing it.

Zoey shook her head, “Everyone only knows about mine and Mary’s. I’ll keep it a secret though.”

“Thanks.”

“You didn’t answer my question though.”

“It… complicates things,” Carmen said. Phalli had never interested her beyond a casual level. She studied them for the sake of science and furthering her knowledge, but she hadn’t thought of one sexually in her life. Rather, she hadn’t until a few months ago. Now it was harder for her to believe she was a wholehearted lesbian. Even when she had observed Dakota’s for that short time had been oddly endearing. Pussy was still where her core lust laid though.

“Okay,” Zoey deflated, “What was that reward gonna be anyway?”

“I-I really can’t say.” Now Carmen also blushed.

“You’re embarrassed? Really? I’m the one talking about their wiener.”

“True. Well… truth is I… was going to… get you off,” Carmen refused to bring her voice above a subtle whisper, drowned out by the violent throbbing of her heart. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. The reward was going to be a kiss, longer than what Zoey had given her earlier. Maybe a little touching too? She cast her eyes over Zoey and gnawed on her tongue.

There was no denying it. This girl… this futa was attractive. Lithe but powerful, soft yet firm and complete with a gorgeous tan and face. While Stacy was closer to Carmen’s type, Zoey was a near second. Perhaps if her hips were fuller, and her breasts a couple sizes larger, then... What was she thinking? She’d changed Zoey to help her, not take advantage of the feelings that the Futa Note forced on her. Worse, she was contemplating cheating on Stacy. But she did say she wouldn’t mind, unless that was Carmen’s imagination?

“Carmen?”

“Huh?” She blinked and realised she’d frozen in place, with her eyes staring straight between Zoey’s thighs. How horny was she that she was considering this?

“I can finish up,” Zoey said, “I know you don’t want to cheat on your girlfriend. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not… ugh, I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking anymore,” Carmen rubbed at her temples, hoping blood flow would solve the problem. It didn’t. Worse, the sudden calm brought the heat between her thighs to attention. She wanted release so fucking bad.

“Like I said, it’s fine. I’ll just, fuck!” Zoey went to stand and stumbled, falling back to the bench, where she hunched over and clutched her swollen ankle. Carmen winced in sympathy and looked for some painkillers. Finding none, she nursed her bottom lip in contemplation. All humans, magically altered or not, had a built in painkiller so to speak.

“Relax,” Carmen said and hooked her fingers into Zoey’s shorts, eyes avoiding the bulge while she relinquished a sliver of self-control.

“What’re you, oh?”

Carmen ignored her and brought the garment to her shins. The penis was in the open now, a blurred slab of meat in her peripheral vision. A twitch caught her gaze. Why hadn’t she imposed a limit? She’d rectify that later, for now she was captivated. No cock had held her attention since Ryuka’s, whose egregious endowment defied all realms of normalcy, though she’d only seen a couple others for mere seconds at a time. This was the first ‘human’ phallus she’d come so close to.

How did Zoey keep it inside her pants? It twitched and throbbed to life, swelling before her eyes as if summoned by her presence, reaching a monstrous size before calming. She forced her eyes away from it and took in the tan lines spread across Zoey’s hips, formed after running and relaxing in her shorts. What about her top, did she have lines around her chest to highlight her full bust?

Zoey read her thoughts, or seemed to, as she removed her shirt. Lighter skin, indeed, surrounded her breasts in stark juxtaposition to the rest of her form. They were like trails that wanted to lead Carmen’s fingers to the mounds, to sample the fruits of her unwanted power, and tease the cherry pink nipples as they extended into the open, begging to be kissed and suckled. A trickle of warmth flowed through Carmen’s nether region. She sighed and returned her attention to the masculine side of Zoey, satisfied that she hadn’t become wholly enamoured with phalli.

“So, uh… what’s the plan?” Zoey asked, licking her lips as she sat there, naked with curves most women would kill for and a dick any woman would fall for. Except Carmen. This was to help Zoey, to soothe the pain of her ankle. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t complaining at the moment, this was… a matter of principle? Yes. If not for Michelle, Zoey would have won. No sense in depriving her of a reward for something outside her control.

“I guess, I’ll just…” Carmen reached out and grabbed the phallus, gasped and let go. It leapt into her grasp, the skin blazing and sticky with sweat. Her hand hovered nearby. The heat wafted from Zoey’s shaft, both warning and compelling her forward. She held it again. A rush of air left Zoey, as if relieved that they didn’t explode, or was it a sigh of pleasure.

“It’s, uh, big,” Carmen said and stroked down the length. The skin rolled back from the head, revealing every square inch of the purple glans, which stared at her in imagined longing. A wide slit faced Carmen. It resembled a smile, though she hoped it was her imagination.

“Yeah, I can even suck it,” Zoey said and giggled at Carmen’s expression. It looked long enough, but the girth must pose a problem if her fingers couldn’t meet around it, and the shaft still seemed to swell even now. A complex network of veins, usually found beneath the surface, were huge and throbbing. It couldn’t get much larger, not without straining Zoey’s heart. Although it was a cock formed by the Futa Note. Perhaps it defied all laws of nature?

“Hmm, that’s nice.”

Carmen blinked at the words and watched as her hand pumped the shaft, unaware that she had been moving. It was an awkward motion, stuttering at times, and the size made each circuit between base and tip a small marathon. Yet Zoey moaned, her heartbeat quickened and she hardened in Carmen’s grasp. Inexperience should have made this a long and clumsy affair, but that didn’t appear to be the case. Zoey was just sensitive, Carmen rationalised, unwilling to assume that she had some form of talent for this.

“How’re you so good at this?” Zoey cooed, slouching lower to offer better access to her length. Carmen pressed a hand to the futa’s thigh, steadying her, and received a moan in return. So she’s sensitive, Carmen clarified. She ran her nails along the athlete’s skin as she stroked, unable to resist a grin as Zoey moaned louder. Her smile faded as pre-cum poured from the tip.

It was thick and murky, more so than she expected. The slime touched her roaming fingers and sent a shudder through her, though not one of revulsion. It reminded her of when she was child and helped with baking, feeling the slime of the doughy mixture as it came together. Except it wouldn’t solidify this time, and more kept pouring out, streaming down the bottom of the shaft and lubricating the path. She caught some on her palm and slathered it around the rest, certain more would make it better.

Zoey’s moans crept higher as she pumped out more pre, which now covered Carmen’s hand and dripped to the floor in its excess. Carmen ramped up the pace, spurred by the sound of pleasure, and her own curiosity at how much Zoey would cum. The balls were a perfect match for the cock after all, each the size of grapefruits or small melons. She released the thigh and fondled the massive orbs. They were heavy and coated in sweat, yet the skin was smooth.

She touched the backs and found it was dripping wet. Carmen reached around them and found her true passion; Zoey’s pussy. She hadn’t confirmed if the Futa Note turned people into true hermaphrodites, but this told her all she wished to know as she slid a pair of fingers along Zoey’s puffy vulva, inciting an outpour of juices from both sexes. The futa’s moans turned quick and breathless. She was close.

Carmen sank her fingers inside but kept her thumb in position to stimulate the clit while her fist pumped the cock faster, reaching a fever pitch. Zoey’s hands curled around the bench, her powerful body tensed. Abs stood out from her belly, her biceps, quads and glutes all rippled as she teetered on the edge. But she held on.

“Come on,” Carmen whispered, eager to witness what kind of orgasm a futa had. Still Zoey resisted, despite her breaths coming in sharp gusts. Carmen thrust her fingers into the athlete’s pussy, twisting and curling them as she did so, seeking out her g-spot.

“Fuck… ah!” Zoey ground her teeth together. Her hips undulated with Carmen’s movements. A groan of frustration escaped Carmen as she added a third finger to the pair already inside. Her arm and wrist ached from the constant pumping motion.

Yet she was aroused as well. Carmen clenched her jaw as her own snatch leaked, a rivulet of fluid coursed down her thigh, crying out for attention. This shouldn’t arouse her, not while she was touching a cock, stroking it, lathering it in its own copious emissions. Perhaps it was the pussy that turned her on? Or did she like cheating on Stacy?

“Oh god,” Carmen said. Her arousal got the better of her and summoned Stacy’s visage to her mind, recreating the memory of them together in the apartment, when Stacy had revealed her lactation and almost seduced Carmen. They’d come close to sleeping together. A pantomime of Stacy’s pussy rippled around her fingers, hungry for a pleasure she was happy to provide by adding a fourth finger to the mix.

The fantasies wouldn’t stop. Her panties were drenched as she envisioned going beyond the memory, of falling atop Stacy’s luscious body, kissing her until they were breathless and caked in each other’s spit. Then she would slip between her thighs and taste her. Then the same would be done to her. They’d come together afterwards and exchange each other’s juices, before doing it all again. Perhaps with Stacy’s collection of toys. What was it like to fuck someone with a strap-on?

“Ah,” Carmen moaned. She didn’t want to fantasise, or to be with Zoey at that moment. She wanted Stacy. She craved her.

“I’m gonna… ahh, fuck! Gonna cum!”

Finally, Carmen thought and sped up. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could leave. Classes were cancelled due to the sport events, so she could go and see Stacy. Even if school was in session, she didn’t think it would stop her. Not when her desire flared like this. Volcanos didn’t compare to the lust cascading from her pussy.

“I’m cumming! Oh god, yes! I’m cumming! I love you!” Zoey shouted as her body convulsed, locked, then went slack and a volley of white splattered Carmen in the face. She moved aside to let the remainder fly wild. A burst slammed into the lockers opposite them, splashing onto everything within two feet of impact, before dwindling to coat the floor. Another, and another, then another. Carmen forgot her own lust as she saw entire ounces explode from Zoey’s dick. When it was over, almost a gallon of thick, white gunk had pooled on the ground and coated the lockers.

The stream that had caught Carmen oozed down her face and touched her lip. She licked at it without thought and spat instantly. It wasn’t disgusting as she’d expected, it wasn’t even unpleasant, nor did the texture feel wrong. Which meant what? That she liked cum?

A childish laugh diverted her attention to a corner, in which Ryuka hovered with a lustful sneer on her face. Her dick was erect as well, streaming pre-cum as dense as the pool of seed on the floor.

“Not bad for your first go at a cock,” the Seikogami said, “How about trying out mine?”

Carmen ignored her and used a sanitary wipe from the first aid kit to wipe her face, “Gotta go. Sorry.”

20

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 19 - First Release

“W-what?” Zoey asked, thoughts slow after cumming from both genders.

The honour student didn’t answer. She rushed from the school and hurried to Soothe the Soul, compelled by pure, inane lust. The doors were locked, a sign said that the owner was away for the morning.

“No, no, come on…” Carmen moved onto Stacy’s apartment, praying she was there. Stacy lived in a small block around the corner from Soothe the Soul. It wasn’t the nicest place, but it was luxury compared to Carmen’s home. She found the door and knocked, then waited in twitchy anticipation.  She knocked again after a minute.

“I’m coming!” Stacy said. Even muffled, Carmen recognised her voice. It could speak gibberish and she would know her from the warmth and love that permeated it. Today, though, she hoped to hear it in the throes of bliss.

Stacy opened the door. She was dressed in a nightgown, one stretched taut over her bust, with a robe over her shoulders. Her hair was a mess and her cheeks were a darker red than normal. A cursory sniff of the air brought the scent of sex to Carmen’s attention, though she suspected her own activities could be the culprit.

“Carmen? What’re…” Not another word. Carmen charged forward and captured her face in her hands, then pulled her close and kissed her with all the passion that had been boiling beneath the surface with Zoey. Half a minute passed before she separated, breathless and with a thick rope of spit between them.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Carmen panted and embraced the plush woman. Her hands zeroed in on Stacy’s rear, then snaked between their bodies to grope her lust-inducing tits. Milk soaked through the gown immediately.

“Neither can I. Come in…”

Zoey stumbled into her house. What just happened? She leaned against the front door, cold against her back, and stared ahead, down the hall or up the stairs, her eyes refused to focus on either. Nothing had changed. Of course it hadn’t. She’d only been gone for a few hours, yet she expected the bright walls to have turned grey, to sprout black mould in the corners, to be adorned in cracked pictures of herself. But everything was as it should be in her home of eighteen years.

Outside was another matter. Despite Michelle’s disqualification, Zoey hadn’t won the race, nor had she even received second or third place. She’d left to lick her wounds, and to unleash her pent up emotions toward Carmen. Her cock still jerked at the memory and her pussy lapped at her balls. Soon after, she’d left the locker room to find a horde of suspicious eyes, with Ms. Blake amongst them.

“What?” She’d asked.

Ms. Blake, accompanied by Mrs. Strep, the head of the track team on paper, approached, “You’re hereby removed from the track team for having an unfair advantage. We know you’re trans, and identity as a woman, but that doesn’t change the fact you have a physical advantage over the other girls. You will not be expelled, though.” The principal said everything, backed by the bobble-head of Mrs. Strep. Few of the teachers cared enough to tutor their students, let alone try and encourage them, but she did. To an extent that didn’t reach her job security.

Zoey didn’t say a word. They were transparent to her, phantoms that blurred the gleeful smirk of a plastic blonde, whose flawless skin hid a twisted, gnarled monstrosity of a human. It was a paradox for every lesbian or bi-sexual at the school, that they despised Gretchen but wanted her body. The same held true for Zoey. She pictured having the spiteful teen pinned between her legs, face a bloody, broken, unrecoverable mess, but, in equal measure, she also saw herself pounding into her fat cunt and cumming in her womb.

Neither was possible. Gretchen was untouchable, worse, she had just retracted the sole protection Zoey was granted. Any step out of line, if she so much as looked at her for longer than a second, she was gone. Zoey could handle that. It had been her intention to avoid the bitch wherever and whenever possible. What she’d done, however, was take away Zoey’s only chance at making a name for herself. Her grades were average at best after all.

Now, she slouched against the door of her home. Alone. The place was still, not even the dust moved now, as if frozen by her disbelief. She hadn’t shrunk. Perhaps the curse understood how futile the situation was and left her be? At least that was a silver lining. She curled her knees to her chest and hugged them. If nothing else, she couldn’t lose this fantastic body that she’d suffered for.

Her days of running as a track star were over. She might get lucky and join a team in college, but it would be subpar, a facility of mediocre equipment, trainers and peers. Running was a respite for her, and a triumph. She could ignore everything and still come out victorious over others. This body wasn’t designed for running though, and her drive had dwindled, siphoned off into another desire. She wanted nothing more than to indulge in her new form. If not with Carmen, then someone else.

The door opened and banished her thoughts. She turned her head and saw Megan standing in the entrance, clad in a dress shirt and skirt, the model of an employee if not for her dishevelled appearance. Her face was flushed, makeup hastily reapplied where it had run off, and her skirt was askew.

“What happened?” Megan asked and stepped in, shutting the door as she slumped down beside her sister.

“Nothing. What about you?”

“Got caught fucking the manager. Got fired of course,” Megan said and brushed a lock of hair from her face, then turned to face Zoey and noticed her swollen ankle, “Oh shit, what happened? Do not bullshit me.”

“Someone tripped me,” Zoey sighed and rubbed at the tender bone, still an angry red sheen, “Made me lose the race. And I got kicked off the track team.”

“Because you’re trans?”

“I’m not trans! I don’t fucking know what I am, alright? I’ve got a huge dick and balls and I’ve got a pussy, huge tits and a bubble butt. So? What does that make me? Huh?!” She was being hysterical, she knew it, but that didn’t stop the words from boiling over the surface. The beast of her insecurities was finally given a voice to the outside, and it howled with mournful glee. Then it stopped and a comforting weight curled over her shoulders as she was tilted toward Megan.

“Shh,” Megan stroked her hair, something she hadn’t done since they were kids and Zoey had been bullied for the first time.

“Why’re you doing this?”

“Because my sister’s an emotional wreck right now.”

“I mean ‘being so nice’. You were a bitch for so long. I refuse to believe you’d change overnight.”

“I haven’t changed. Ever heard of a persona? Everything I did was an act. I was a bitch because that’s what made me cool, what made people like me. You couldn’t do that, so I pushed you away. It was a fucking stupid mistake. Besides, it’s been a while since I turned over a new leaf.”

“Whatever,” Zoey said and nestled into her sister’s one-armed embrace, sinking into her breast. It was too much of a coincidence, that Megan would have such a perfect explanation already on hand. For now, however, she was glad to have her sister back, if only briefly. Neither said anything. Silence hung over them, broken only by the soft strokes through Zoey’s hair. Until Zoey broke it.

“Megan?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you attracted to me?” Zoey asked, too exhausted after the day’s events to be tact.

“I… yes,” Megan whispered and looked away. It was wrong on so many levels, yet it was also the perfect opportunity. Zoey needed something to focus on, something that wasn’t Carmen Robins, that wasn’t running, that her new body could excel at. That her consciousness could drown in. And Megan was simply sexy. Large breasts that didn’t upset the balance of her luscious hips, and a waist that didn’t cry for food or detract from the prior assets.

“Why’d you post that picture of me? It ruined everything,” Zoey asked, though she wasn’t sure she cared anymore. She sat up and leaned over her sibling, whose five-foot-five body seemed puny by comparison. It was a guess, but Zoey believed she stood at least two feet above her now.

“You never saw the caption did you?” Megan pulled out her phone and showed it to her. It read ‘All MINE! Hands off!’ The comments ranged from jealous refusal that it was real, and harsh words from those who recognised Zoey as Megan’s sister.

“I thought it’d keep people away from you. And, uh, cut off my ‘friends’. They haven’t talked to me since. I mean, I am the pervert sister who claimed your giant dick for herself, right?” Megan had her eyes trained on a random floorboard, avoiding any contact with Zoey, who leered closer. It had been years since they were so close to one another, so open. Vulnerability permeated the sullen air. Both were at their worst, yet also their best. They were sharing, they knew one another’s pain – to an extent – and one had just admitted to lusting after her own younger sister. Zoey didn’t speak.

Instead she closed the fine distance between them and mashed their lips together. Since the curse, or gift as she was learning to see it, her own lips were the plumper between them, though that didn’t diminish Megan’s own luscious set. They were soft, a set of pillows that welcomed hers. It wasn’t a deep kiss, little more than a trial.

“We are so going to hell,” Megan said.

“I’m in if you are,” Zoey said.

“Are we really doing this?”

“I’m done holding myself back. And I’d be lying if I said I don’t think you’re hot,” Zoey forced her eyes to remain level, averse to letting on how frayed her nerves were just from that single kiss. Anything more and she would be shaking.

“So… my room? I’ve got the double bed after all.”

“Y-yeah, that… that sounds good.”

Carmen laid down a flurry of kisses upon her girlfriend and employer. Their lips were red and swollen, coated in layers of the other’s saliva, a sloppy bridge connected them as they gasped against each other. It was a brief moment of respite that Carmen gladly finished with another, forceful kiss.

They were in Stacy’s room atop her bed. Stacy writhed beneath the student, mewling as deft fingers toyed with her body, dancing from nipple to her ass, while an indominable knee pressed between her lush thighs. Carmen forced her tongue into the open and sucked on it, before making it clear she expected the same in return. Whatever their work relationship, or their age difference, Carmen was in command. She kept her plump love from grinding too fast or slow, even dictating when she could so much as move her arms to embrace her.

Several minutes had passed since they began. A culminative thirty seconds of those minutes were wasted on air, but their bodies never separated. Carmen’s voluptuous breasts crushed against Stacy’s larger set, nipples stiff and occasionally finding each other. Milk had soaked through both their clothes. It took a stern push from below for Carmen to pause, if only for the second it took her to throw off her top and skirt. She did the same for Stacy, tossing the drenched nightgown aside.

“What brought this on?” Stacy asked, though her answer would wait as Carmen sealed their lips together. A haze had settled in her mind, dense with the musk of this gorgeous woman and all the stimulation pummelling her senses. Her pussy dripped as her leg was coated with Stacy’s juices, the fat lips gliding along her thigh as more was added. She brought a hand to the lower lips and pressed a finger inside.

It was clear that Stacy had been masturbating that morning. Her room had already reeked of her snatch when Carmen entered, and it showed as her loosened cunt swallowed the finger like a greedy child scarfing down a chocolate bar. A second finger was added, both curled and thrust deeper, nails gliding across the sensitive walls. Stacy bucked at the sudden stimulus, then moaned deep into Carmen’s mouth.

Arousal poured from the woman. Her voice was low and husky as it moaned and muttered incoherent pleas for more, while her cunt squished around Carmen’s thrusting fingers. Each retreat pulled a gush of feminine cream with it, and the push squelched. Carmen hastened the motions, angling herself up and down, left to right, seeking Stacy’s delicious g-spot. Louder moans reverberated in the student’s mouth as an orgasm mounted.

“Mm! Hmm! Ahh!” Stacy arched her back and cried out. Her legs snapped shut around Carmen’s thigh and hand, pussy conforming to every ridge of the invasive digits, while a deluge of milk poured from her nipples. Still wreathed in her sanity, Carmen lunged down, captured a tit with her teeth and inhaled around it, tasting the deliciously rich, smooth and sweet fluid. The other nipple gushed as she tugged on it with her spare hand, drenching her hair and back in the fountain.

“Oooh, Carmen,” Stacy cooed as she came down, though her snatch still convulsed, rippling around the fingers as they gently pushed to and fro. The scent of sex saturated the air now, Carmen’s tongue was inundated in milk, her hands deep in Stacy’s buoyant breast and soaked pussy, while their eyes lingered on one another. Adoration and lust raged in both, though Stacy’s were clouded from the recent climax. Carmen pulled free with a lewd pop, milk splashing onto her cheeks, as she kissed her lover once more. She extracted her fingers and brought them between the two.

Stacy’s heady musk compelled her tongue forth and she licked the extremities clean. Whether a factor of age, or attributed to her pure lust, Stacy’s cum was thicker than anything Carmen had produced. Spicy, bittersweet flavours treated her tongue as a bed for their own intimacy, spurring her own cunt to drool in desire. It made her wonder if she’d ever tasted anything so delicious. Her own cunt surely didn’t compare, even as it dripped down her thighs in a cry for attention.

“Not gonna share?” Stacy asked, her tongue extended, but not reaching for the fingers.

“Apologies,” Carmen grinned and pressed her fingers into the woman’s mouth. Her breath hitched as Stacy’s supple tongue swirled around her, clearing spit and cum from her digits. She suckled on them as well, as if they were a set of long nipples. Or cocks, Carmen’s mind supplied, flashing back to Zoey in the locker room. The images were hounded into a corner of her mind.

This was her and Stacy’s moment. No Ryuka. No Futa Note. No futanari. Period.

“Stacy?”

“Yes?” The matronly coffee lover released the fingers and smirked up at her, eyes half-lidded and burning with renewed desire.

“I want to taste you. Fresh,” Carmen said and, not waiting for a reply, slid down her lover’s milk sodden body, until she was crouched on all fours between her thighs. Was there a more beautiful sight than a plump pussy, framed by delicious thighs piled high with fat, and tinted with slight muscles, to the wealth of labia that kept her gorgeous vulva from view? Carmen parted the folds with a pair of fingers and stared, watching as the insides twitched from her reverent breaths.

A mixture of sweat and pussy juice rolled down Stacy’s skin. Carmen shuffled in closer, until her lips were an inch away. Just the smell alone would be enough to soak her panties, with the sight and sound of her lover combined, however, it took all her willpower not to fuck herself to a dizzying array of orgasms. Only her self-control and thirst for Stacy’s cum kept such urges at bay.

She trailed her fingertips across the lush woman’s thigh and along the shape of her crotch, leaning in further all the while. Womanly musk immersed her sinuses, masking all other aromas and hypnotising her. Carmen prided herself on discipline, on the ability to keep from making rash decisions, but this was no place for such pride. Passion took the reins and shoved her forward, mashing her lips and nose into Stacy’s rich labia.

“Ahh! Not so fast, Baby, hmm… that’s it,” Stacy moaned from above, reacting to every change in Carmen’s approach. She worked her jaw and tongue in tandem, lapping and nibbling her employer’s folds. The plump woman arched her hips and rubbed her pussy into Carmen’s mouth, grinding her clit against the girl’s nose and slavering her in juices. No other taste or smell came through the dense fog of cunt.

It was delicious, as if pleasure itself was condensed into a viscous nectar that Carmen gorged herself on. Her mouth covered the lush mound, lips sealed tight around it. The spongy folds submitted to her tongue’s wild ministrations as it fluttered and rammed inside, catching the heavenly fluid directly. Only mere droplets could escape as she devoured her lover’s cunt.

She couldn’t hold back another moment and reached down for her own salivating snatch. Already, her thighs were caked in the precursor to her orgasm, gelatinous ropes closed the gap between limbs and her pussy. Carmen rubbed her nether-lips, stimulating a thicker flow, before she shoved three fingers to the knuckle. Her clit poked against her palm as she worked, each thrust sending a shockwave that would domino into Stacy as Carmen’s moans heightened, the vibrations echoing in the coffee lover’s devoured pussy.

“Ahh god! So good, so fucking good,” Stacy said, hips rolling with the subtle motions of Carmen’s jaw, “No one’s eaten me so good. Come on, Baby, eat momma out some more. Drown in my cum. Ah fuck, I’ve never felt so good before.”

Never? Carmen glanced at her employer. Surely she had been married once, or at least in several previous relationships? Yet she said Carmen was the best? The honour student, her life ruled by grades and excelling at everything she could, redoubled her efforts. If Stacy thought so highly of her, then she would exceed those expectations. She would blow them apart. She would make her beautiful lover cum until she begged her to stop.

“Cumming!” Stacy suddenly cried.

Carmen stopped in shock, having expected to take another minute at least, yet the pussy around tongue and in her mouth didn’t lie. Pulsations thundered through it, the walls clenching around her trapped muscle, before a deluge of fem-cum flooded her maw. A tidal wave poured down her chin and onto the sheets below. Stacy cried again and another pulse went through her cunt, preceding a second release. Carmen swallowed it all this time, jaw working to get every drop of tart juices down her gullet.

The squirts died down, but she wasn’t done. Carmen sealed her mouth to the main hole, tongue squirming within, and brought her thumb to the clit. A moment later and Stacy was caught in ecstasy again.

“So soon?! Ahh! Yes, yes! Drink it, Carmen! Drink my cum! Then my milk! Hmm, my titties are so full!” Gone was Stacy’s caring, motherly tone, replaced instead by a husky slut’s voice that demanded satisfaction. Carmen was all too glad to supply it. A few quick, yet no less effective moves later and Stacy was cumming again. Her legs locked around Carmen’s head and pulled tight to her cunt, suffocating her nose in the fat folds, then exploded once more. Carmen moaned with her, approaching her own orgasm. She looked to Stacy’s face, hoping to either see it twisted in bliss, or to meet her eyes. It was neither.

Stacy had her mouth latched firmly to her breast. Thick rivers of milk oozed from her lips, while the other breast squirted with abandon. Carmen took a final gulp of cum, then propelled herself forward, breaking free of Stacy’s legs, and engulfed the spare nipple. She replaced her mouth with four fingers, then, as Stacy came time and again, her entire fist. Eventually, the tsunami finished and Stacy’s cries faded into soft moans, broken only by her and Carmen’s insatiable gulping.

“That was…” Stacy later said, the two resting side by side, hand in hand and each covered in pussy juice. Though Carmen had yet to cum.

“Delicious,” Carmen finished, licking around her lips. Here she had thought that, perhaps, Stacy’s cum was the greatest thing she would taste in her lifetime. It certainly beat out the boring meals she called dinner. But the addition of milk, its overpowering sweetness balanced against the tartness of her lover’s juices, was a combination made in Heaven. Regardless of whether she came, Carmen had rarely felt so calm.

“I was going to say ‘incredible’,” Stacy giggled, then she turned over and rested on her elbow, her heavy breasts falling to lay upon the bed and each other. The nipples were still erect, leaking stray drops of milk. She was a goddess of excess and fertility, with a body ripe to be adored, and already prepared for motherhood. Carmen bit her lip as she followed her employer’s lead and took in her abundant frame.

Pregnancy was a distant concept for her. While family was important to her, to the point that it superseded her own happiness, she hadn’t given thought to a child of her own. Carmen looked to her belly, flat save for the faint indents of burgeoning abs, over the monumental swell of her breasts, then to Stacy’s. Motherhood would suit the coffee proprietor, no doubt about it. She already looked like a mother. A beautiful, sexy mother.

“Do you have any kids?” Carmen asked, wrenching her employer’s eyes from her young body. It made her smile, knowing that Stacy was as enamoured by her body as she was with hers.

“No, sadly. I never found the right man. Or woman for that matter,” Stacy said and circled her nipple, “Such a waste isn’t it? I make enough milk for a dozen babies and I don’t even have of my own.”

“I…” Carmen gulped and leaned down to suckle on the nipple, “Don’t worry, I’ll drink it all for you.”

“Actually, I have a confession,” Stacy said.

“Hmm?”

“Well, I have a secret ingredient that I put in every cup of coffee. Except the black ones.”

“Your breast milk?”

Stacy blushed, “Yes.”

Carmen didn’t answer for a second and, instead, kissed her deeply. She pulled back when they were out of breath, “I thought there was something familiar about the taste,” she said, licking a stray drop of milk from her lover’s cheek.

“Such a naughty girl,” Stacy chuckled and kissed her again, “Why’d you ask about kids anyway?”

“Well, I… uh…”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to rush anything. You’ve got your life ahead of you. And I’d wager I’ve still got a good few years in me.”

“Thanks,” Carmen said and resumed the kiss, ignoring the light jab at the age difference between them. This woman may be old enough to be her mother, but she was also her lover. It almost made her laugh; what did that say about Carmen herself?

“You know,” Carmen said during a slight break, “You’d look amazing with a baby.”

“Everyone says so,” Stacy laughed, “Now, enough talk. You’ve tasted everything I have to offer. I think it’s time you return the favour.”

Carmen’s breath hitched in her throat and anxiety clouded her head. No, it poured into her skull, pressing against the bone from within. Her chest felt as if it might cave in. What was it? Why should she be worried? This was Stacy. They’d done so much together, yet having her own pussy involved crossed some undrawn line. That made no sense. Rather, it did, more so than what she lived with. This was her most private part of her body, something she hadn’t allowed anyone to such as view aside from her parents or doctors.

“Shh,” Stacy cooed and kissed down her neck, smothering her nerves with those soft pillows and saliva, “Everything’s scary the first time we do it. I can’t tell you how nervous I was when I had my first times with boys and girls. I’ll help you.”

Stacy laid down and directed Carmen to straddle her face. She did so, muscles tight as she hovered above her employer. No one had come so close to her pussy before, not in a sexual sense. Now Stacy was mere inches away, so close that her soft breaths were like hurricanes.

“You smell so good,” Stacy murmured, then her tongue extended and ran across Carmen’s inner thigh, eliciting a sharp gasp, “And the taste is exquisite.” Carmen focused on her lover’s legs, determined to take her mind off the nerves that threatened to topple her. Despite how much weight piled itself on Stacy’s chest and round belly, more somehow found its way to her thighs. Yes, someone of poor taste would call her fat, as if that was a terrible thing. But Carmen understood the beauty of it.

She moaned as Stacy kissed her vagina. Just that fleeting contact had her dripping for more, while her eyes devoured the feast before her. From Stacy’s stomach, a gentle swell compared to her abundance of tits and sides, her body ballooned into door crowding hips and thighs no man could turn down. Not the smart ones at least. The dumb and blind would forever be ignorant to the pleasure such softness provided.

Hidden beneath it all was Stacy’s ass. Carmen bit her bottom lip and resolved to sample the rotund flesh thoroughly before this was over. For the meantime, however, she relaxed into the burst of pecks and slurping kisses on her privates. The sharp explosions of pleasure gave out to a long, rolling wave as Stacy licked her from bottom to top, where she suckled on the expansive clit. It had followed her body’s lead and swollen into a plump pod of tightly packed nerves.

“Your pussy’s so beautiful, Carmen,” Stacy said, “Fuck, your everything is beautiful.”

“You’re, hmm… just saying that.”

“No,” Stacy firmly refuted, “It’s the truth.”

“I-I know,” Carmen chuckled. Even if she hadn’t wished for this form, she couldn’t refuse how stunning she had become. By a human’s standards, she was the perfect girl. Long, dark hair, large eyes, gently pronounced cheekbones, lush lips. If she had met a stranger with such a visage, she might’ve broken her no masturbation rule. But that said nothing of her overendowed chest, which curved from her torso like elegant hills capped with stout nipples and areolae, or her sleek waist and shoulders, or her hips that covered any chair she sat in.

She was a bombshell. An unnatural babe that would never have looked so gorgeous without a magic book. Or that’s what she assumed caused it. Ryuka was also a suspect.

“Hmm,” Stacy hummed, the vibrations transitioned to Carmen’s clit, pulling a high moan from her, “I should’ve made a move on you sooner.”

“Y-yeah?” Carmen struggled to keep herself steady as her lover incorporated her hands, using them to fondle the student’s heavy breasts, or to massage her voluptuous rear.

“From the moment I hired you, in fact. You were stunning from the get-go. I can’t tell you how often I fingered myself while thinking of you.” Each word was a gentle shock of pleasure on Carmen’s pussy, which gladly shared its delight with the rest of her body.

“Hmm, yeah,” Carmen moaned and sank lower. She gasped and rolled her hips as Stacy went into proper action now. Her older, experienced tongue swirled around Carmen’s pussy and clit, stopped as she suckled on the folds, then thrust into her hole while the lips massaged her vulva. Stacy spread her ass, creating better access, while the fingers teased at the puckered hole therein. Though obscured by the voluptuous cheeks, Stacy’s face was a mask of lust and fluids, eyes locked to Carmen’s staring orbs.

Carmen rolled her hips and ground her pussy into her lover’s tongue, watching as her cheeks covered Stacy’s head in their luscious curves. She could smother the woman if she wasn’t careful. Fire flashed and fem-cum poured from within her crotch at the idea, forcing her to arch her back and mash her cunt onto Stacy’s tongue. The sinuous muscle slithered within her, searching for, and finding, her favourite spots. Each lick offered a fresh spark in the constant, dizzying array of pleasures.

Where her nerves had once threatened to deprive her of this, only lust remained. Carmen moaned and leaned forward, raising her ass to maximise contact with her salivating pussy. Unbidden, Stacy retracted her tongue and laid it flat. She wriggled it, an offer for Carmen to use her as she saw fit. All hesitation evaporated from her mind.

Lewd juices and saliva mixed and poured across Stacy’s face as Carmen rode her. She ran her cunt from top to bottom across her employer’s tongue and lips, replacing spit with her cum, dousing taste-buds in her flavour, and drowning out any sound with her moans. At the clit, she paused and wriggled side-to-side, basking in the sharp bursts of bliss.

“Ah, yeah… eat my pussy, Stacy. Eat it. Taste it. Drown in me,” Carmen groaned as her lover gurgled on the flood of juices. The adult woman’s earlier squirt was impressive, yet Carmen had already surpassed it as she rode the rising tides. Between the two, Stacy’s bed was soaked through with her milk and their cum. The smell would saturate the mattress and air for months, if not years to come. And Stacy would live within that odour, constantly aroused by it, in need for a fresh dose every moment she was home.

Carmen slouched forward and braced herself on her love’s bountiful tits. Soft and full, they made for the perfect support, even as they slathered her hands in milk, much like her cunt did to Stacy’s lips, cheeks, chin and neck. A ravishing image, one she intended to savour once this was done. She spied Stacy’s own cunt, braced between her raised, voluptuous thighs, and her throat went dry. Without a word, she fell forward and buried her face between them once more.

Their moans echoed each other with eerie precision. It almost seemed that their pussies were linked; as one gushed in pleasure, the other followed suit. As Carmen’s overflowed Stacy’s mouth, the latter defiled the bed. If Carmen left that day with any regret, aside from letting her desire overwhelm her as it had, it was not being able to see the sight she was responsible for. And with good reason.

On either side of Carmen’s head were two legs packed full with delicious weight, smooth and creamy, such that she wanted to lick them clean with her very tongue. She had her arms wrapped tight around them, savouring the plushness as her tongue dove into Stacy’s cunt. Her breasts were squashed against her chest where they laid against Stacy’s plump gut, while the coffee-lover’s own fell to gravity and framed Carmen’s undulating lower half, still lodged against her lover’s head.

Each shift in their weight caused the mattress to squelch from the milk and cum that saturated it. Carmen was the core culprit, as her knees refused to be still, always in search of a better angle to attain new, vaster pleasures. She had Stacy’s face trapped, locked tight between her thighs, muffling the sounds of her swelling ecstasy, and concealed beneath her bountiful rear.

Despite her wish to see such a view, her imagination recreated it as best it could, dousing the inferno of her arousal with gasoline. Carmen’s moans reached a fever pitch, above the squeak and squelching of the bed, even muffled against her sensuous employer’s cunt, even as she gurgled on the abundance of girl-cum. Each drop made her own snatch leak, each gulp made it drool, and each sudden burst made it gush. Combined with Stacy’s slight but effective tongue movements, Carmen found herself flung into ecstasy.

Before she could throw her head back and shriek her bliss to the skies, Carmen was caught within Stacy’s legs, which adhered her to her cunt. Stacy sputtered and moaned and cried out as she was swept up in bliss as well, all while drowning in Carmen’s orgasm. As both started to calm, they resumed their ministrations, enforcing a second climax upon the other.

Masturbation was incredible. Carmen refused to indulge in it, in large part thanks to Ryuka’s constant presence and goading, however that didn’t blind her to its pleasure. The few times she had made herself explode in such a way were incredible. Yet this… this moment, caught between the first and second, soon to be third, of rapid-fire orgasms, was a bliss she never expected to know. Much less as intimately as she now did.

Every nerve ending across her body was alive where they had felt dead before. The window was cracked open, from which the faintest breeze snuck in. Anyone else would have ignored it, but to Carmen, with every facet of her being alight with ecstasy, the air was a duplicate of Stacy’s inexhaustible tongue. The soaked bedsheets were expert fingers. The quivering fat of her lover’s belly on her nipples was a pair of bullet vibrators attached to her tits. Even the gush of juices against her face provided more pleasure.

But beneath all the lust and bliss, her cognisant mind, reduced to a puny whimper at the corner of her mind, wondered how she could ever come back from such pleasure. How could she return to a life without it?

For the moment, however, she indulged in every sensation she’d refused herself. Her dwindling moans revitalised as Stacy, on a sudden whim, abandoned her pussy for her asshole. It didn’t seem to matter what hole it was, as the plump woman tongued it with the same fervour as ever. Strange sensations gave way to a new bliss, as her ass was pleasured for the first time. Her fourth orgasm ricocheted through her body and mind, sapping her of strength.

“That was…” Carmen shook her head, letting the words trail off. How could she even describe that? It was heaven, if only for a brief moment. Now she laid beside Stacy among the mess of that heaven. Neither of them were spared. Their hair was soaked, matted to their skin and the pillows, faces a mess, and Stacy’s breasts were coated in layers of milk. The air reeked of sex, though Carmen suspected that was in part due to the drying juices on her lips and nose. All was silent but for their synchronous pants and heartbeats.

Carmen laid against Stacy, head resting on her boob, listening to her heartbeat. Their legs were entwined, a mess of limbs and sheets. Laying there, Carmen realised just how huge her lover’s breasts were. Before, she had only seen them from afar, or up close when she was caught in her lust and thirst. Now, with her head clear and desire just a mild throbbing in her pussy, she relished how they almost dwarfed her head. She gently licked the one she laid upon, slowly cleaning it of the spilled milk.

“Amazing,” Stacy finished a while later.

“Hmm,” Carmen nodded and reached around to find her lover’s hand, holding it tight, “How was it? Being my first?”

Stacy chuckled, “I never would’ve guessed.”

“Really?”

“Oh, you were fantastic, Carmen,” Stacy said and stroked her hair, returning the grip on her hand, “I don’t know what it is, but the moment you touched me… it was like a rush of sex. If I wasn’t holding back for so long, I would’ve cum in seconds.”

“Glad to hear it,” Carmen said and nestled deeper into the breast, squeezing a fresh trickle of milk out, “So, when’s the shop opening?”

“I think it can handle being closed for the day,” Stacy said, “I believe I’ve got some hands-on employee training to manage.”

“Oh? Getting some new girls?”

“Not yet. Besides, there’s only one girl I want right now.”

Carmen mock gasped, “Oh no! Who?”

“I think you know her. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, huge, lovable tits and an ass I would be happy to suffocate under,” Stacy chuckled and pulled her up and into a deep kiss, both sampling the remnants of the other’s pussy on their lips.

“Hey, Stacy?” Carmen asked as she straddled her lover’s stomach, looking down on her from above the plentiful hills of her own tits.

“Hmm?”

“If… and this is completely hypothetical, but if I could, like, change my body in any way you want, what would you do?”

“Dear, I know not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You’re already gorgeous.”

“I know, but this is a ‘what if’. So, say, if you wanted me to have bigger boobs, or to be taller… would you?”

Stacy glanced around, then sighed, and took hold of Carmen’s breasts, “I’d be lying if I said I don’t have some… extravagant tastes.”

“Oh? Such as?” Carmen couldn’t understand why she was asking these things. She hoped it was out of simple curiosity, rather than a subconscious urge to write her name in the Futa Note. But if it was subconscious, then would she even recognise it? No. She would. There was no chance that she wouldn’t notice such a desire. That said, if Stacy wanted her to, transforming herself might not be the end of everything.

Stop it! Carmen betrayed nothing of her internal argument, which rapidly devolved into a two-sided shouting match, her rational and lustful minds screaming for the other to be silent. She couldn’t lose herself so easily. Besides, the Futa Note was already changing her. Any reason she might to write her own name was redundant at best.

“… cock…”

Carmen blinked at the word, realising she’d missed most of Stacy’s words, “What?”

“I think we might need some cock,” Stacy said and slid Carmen to the side. She retrieved the box of toys Carmen saw last time, and pulled a massive strap-on from it, “So? Pitching or catching?”

“Pitching,” Camren blurted, staring at the foot-long plastic penis. It didn’t match up to Zoey’s cock, but it was sizable, nonetheless.

“Thought so.”

Carmen returned home that evening, exhausted but ecstatic. Despite her insistence, Stacy had treated her to a nice dinner, with enough leftovers to take home for Melody and her mother. They’d showered as well, cleaning each other with the thoroughness only lovers could provide. If Stacy hadn’t thought Carmen was a boob-lover earlier, she certainly did now, as Carmen had almost wasted all the hot water on lathering her girlfriend’s tits in her affections. They had agreed to do it all again as soon as Stacy could get another evening off.

That night, Carmen laid in bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. She was too tired to study, though she considered it a fair trade. Her sleep had been suffering as of late. Ryuka was smirking down at her, supernatural senses attuned to the glow that sex provided a woman.

“So, how was it?” Ryuka asked after they were certain Melody was asleep.

“Amazing,” Carmen murmured.

“Gonna write her name?”

“No… hmm, now shut up,” Carmen said and rolled over. Even her lumpy, spring-stabbing mattress couldn’t detract from the residual joy of coitus. She slept in the warmth of her memories, recreated with obsessive accuracy in her dreams.

21

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 20 - Pushed

Summer had found its foothold. Stuffy coats and baggy sweaters were replaced by light t-shirts and shorts, skirts and blouses, unless one’s culture demanded otherwise, such as the goths who huddled together in the school’s shadow every lunch break to smoke, clad in leather or dense black coats. The popular cliques used it to show off the cutest designs money could buy, the sluts bared all that they could get away with, and the plain stuck to the usual of mimicry, desperate for a place. Carmen ignored them all. She didn’t have much other choice.

Stalking thrift stores and taking whatever charity they could left few options. A blue shirt, sometimes a few stainless whites, and perhaps a summery blouse were all she could find, and half of which no longer fit. Whatever the Futa Note was doing, it had culled her options to the barest essentials, unless she wanted to dress like Mary.

“Just let me buy you a few things,” Mary said, exasperated. They sat outside, under a large, filled out tree that provided a gentle ambience as the breeze rustled its leaves. She wore a sleeveless shirt, cropped to show off her navel, and a pair of pants so short her member almost peaked out. “It’ll be fun! And I swear I won’t pick out anything ‘risqué’.”

“Last time you said that, I wound up wearing nothing but lace,” Dakota said.

“Once,” Mary added.

“It’s fine,” Carmen said, shaking her head, “I think Zoey needs the help more than I do. Can’t be easy for you.”

“No, it’s alright,” Zoey shrugged, setting her luscious curves jiggling beneath her strained shirt. Since the race two months ago, she’d become a true Amazon. Eight feet tall, Carmen estimated, and still growing. She couldn’t bring herself to remove that aspect from the Futa Note, not since Zoey enjoyed it. In every aspect, she was the largest of the school. Though not the smartest. Carmen made sure to hold that distinction.

Mary just rolled her eyes, “You got me beat for now, Zo, but these puppies are catching up.” She referred to her breasts, augmented by implants too large for a teenager, though they’d started growing in the past months. Carmen feigned ignorance when Mary had announced the fact.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoey snickered. For better or worse, the Futa Note had created this moment. Carmen leaned against the tree, content to listen to her friends and savour the breeze on her skin. Even Ryuka, who kicked her feet from a branch overhead, couldn’t dampen the mood. Only one person could do so, and she was off-campus somewhere, making life miserable for others.

Lunch would be over soon, then it was back to monotony. But, fleeting as it always seemed, a moment of happiness was enough for Carmen. Graduation wasn’t far, after that, she could take greater strides towards bringing her family into this fold. No more double-shifts for her mother, no more rags for her sister, and no more Gretchen for herself. That alone was worth the price of any college.

“Anyone got any plans?” Dakota asked.

“What? For later?” Mary said.

“No, I mean college. Like, what’re you gonna do?”

“I dunno,” Mary shrugged, “Zoey? Got any ideas?”

“Not sure yet. Probably something athletic. Or maybe I could just work as a bouncer. Put these guns to work!” Zoey chuckled, flexing her impressive arms. She already was, to an extent. With her around, Gretchen didn’t dare make any direct moves on Carmen or her friends, not after the media latched onto the fact that Zoey was ‘trans’. Expulsion would result in a backlash, the kind that Saint Puella couldn’t survive at this point. Though it wouldn’t survive regardless. One more year at most.

“Carmen?” Dakota sped up to walk beside her.

“Hmm? I’m still figuring it out,” Carmen said.

“You could literally do anything,” Mary said, leering at the honour student’s chest, “Ever thought of modelling?”

“No,” Carmen chuckled, “I want to do something meaningful. Maybe I’ll just be a doctor.”

“Oh? Become a plastic surgeon, that way you can give me a discount,” Mary said.

“I thought you were done with that,” Dakota frowned at her.

“Well, yeah… sort of. I mean, I don’t have Ashley around to pay for it anymore. I guess I like being a little plastic,” Mary squeezed her breasts. They had more give now, having piled on more fat around the implants, though their spherical shape hadn’t dissipated enough. Anyone would know their true origins at a glance.

“You’re not the only one,” Dakota said and copped a feel, a sly grin on her face.

“Quit it,” Mary laughed and swatted at the other futa.

People gave them a wide berth in the halls. It was natural for the students, as they did so whenever Gretchen walked through, and had done so for Mary just a few months prior. Now Carmen was in a similar position, at the head of three other ‘girls’ that used to hang out together, their leader in a sense. Only a liar would deny the satisfaction it gave.

Carmen grinned at her company. Relief saturated the air around Saint Puella’s senior students, those who knew that in under a month, they’d be free. Whether they used that to enrich their lives, or just to bask in Gretchen’s absence, was up to them.

“I think you’d make a great doctor,” Zoey said.

“Really?” Carmen asked. She’d thought about it before. They made plenty of money, however med school was a financial nightmare, and the hours of study she’d have to put in made it seem like an impossible dream. For now. If she played her cards right, that could be her ultimate future. In the meantime, she could find something lucrative and milk it for all it had, “It’s too expensive, though.”

“Get a scholarship,” Mary said, “You’re smart enough for one.”

“That doesn’t cover everything,” Carmen sighed, “I’ll just figure it out when the time comes. So long as I make good money from it, I don’t really mind what I do.”

“Maybe whore yourself out?” A familiar, venomous voice suggested. It dripped with disgust layered in saccharine, reverberating with falsehood. Carmen didn’t acknowledge it and kept walking. What power Gretchen held would soon vanish, and she’d be left as a petulant child, alone and desperate. After graduation, Carmen didn’t care if the vile bitch drowned or overdosed. She was nothing in the grand scheme.

Seeing that she didn’t response, Gretchen turned to Mary, “No, that’s your piece de resistance, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you,” Mary snapped.

“Hey, a bitch with bite. Never seen that before. What about you, Rachel?”

“No,” the petite redhead at her side agreed, “Then again, the one who does nothing must be pathetic. Guess she’s that scared.”

“Yeah,” Ashley nodded from behind the two, hiding away from Mary’s glare. Carmen turned to observe and caught Rachel’s eyes, each a vibrant green like the freshest grass, yet they were ashen with disdain. And none of it was spread between Dakota, Mary or Zoey. Only Carmen.

“You know, I think you’re gonna love tomorrow,” Gretchen said, strolling by, though no one moved aside for her. She paused and beamed at Carmen, though her eye twitched at the lack of reaction, “Especially you.”

“Whatever,” Carmen said and turned away. The bell rang for classes just as she stepped through the door, leaving Gretchen in the middle of a breath. She sat close to the window just as always and stared across the city. Almost every career path was open to her, it all depended on what she chose. Of course, they could all be hers with a few simple sentences.

She snapped her gaze to the front and brushed her bag with her leg. Inside the dilapidated rucksack was the Futa Note, ready and waiting for her to use it again, as was the Seikogami that toyed with a lock of hair longer than Carmen was tall.

“This is boring,” Ryuka said, and reclined in the air. Her breasts fell and quivered mere inches from Carmen’s face, “Depressingly so. I can’t even masturbate like this.”

“Good,” Carmen muttered and focused on her textbook. Exams were coming. Supernatural or not, she couldn’t afford distractions. These could make or break her plan.

“Just give me the book,” Ryuka said, “I’ll go have some fun and be right back. You won’t have to feel any guilt.”

“No,” Carmen said, “You’ll just write my name or something. I refuse to give anyone, especially you, that much control over me.”

“But you have no problem exerting it over others?”

“Of course not,” Carmen said, her hand paused mid-letter. She didn’t. She’d taken control of three people, turned them into what she figured was best, aside from the futanari aspect, yet she couldn’t find the remorse she’d felt at first. Why would she? Everything had turned out for the better. Those people were her friends now, they were happier, focused, free, all because of her.

“Then why not use it?” Ryuka inquired. She floated around until her expansive bosom was squashed against Carmen’s desk, consuming the north in her creamy flesh, “Surely that Gretchen girl deserves something.”

“She does, but I’m not about to write her name. She’s just a bitch. Besides, she’ll be gone in a little while. There’s no point.”

“Spoilsport,” Ryuka pouted.

Later, Carmen stepped into the comfort of Stacy’s embrace. It wasn’t time for the usual rush and only a few people occupied the cosy space, none of which paid them any mind, so the two snuck a quick kiss.

“How was school?” Stacy asked while Carmen pulled an apron on. It was new, embroidered with a heart around her name, and a small, almost unnoticeable, padlock to it. Stacy had said she’d bought it on a whim, though her own apron shared the same flare. In the back, two other girls worked. Their names were Rebecca and Holly, neither paid much mind to Carmen and she returned the favour.

“Alright. Just the usual stuff,” Carmen said.

“Gretchen’s still giving you trouble?”

“Not really. I think she’s getting desperate with graduation coming up.”

“I can’t wait,” Stacy said.

“Me neither.” It wasn’t the fact that a vacation would give Carmen more time to work, or that she would be free to spend more time with Stacy, but that they could go away together. The plan was for one week, all alone, in a cabin up some hill. On further research, there was one perfect for their wishes. Foot traffic was rare, and it was inaccessible by car, though it still had cell phone reception for emergencies. No one would bother them there.

Just the thought of it made Carmen’s heart skip and her thighs clench. She took a long breath and pushed the thoughts away for now. Getting wet at work begged for disaster to occur.

“Did you milk yourself this morning?” Carmen asked.

“I’m not a child, Carmen. I can take care of myself,” Stacy giggled, “But I stopped a bit earlier than normal. Just for you.”

“Thanks,” Carmen said and stole a quick peck on the cheek, before righting her posture as the first of many customers entered. A tide built before long, mostly men, all with familiar, lecherous faces. Accustomed, Carmen ignored their gazes and did her job, enticing them to spend more money than they reasonably should, while still giving her a generous tip. If this kept up, she could afford med school, but she needed more. A little extra skin wouldn’t hurt. The thought almost made her slip up.

When time came for a break, she contemplated the idea and her chest. Even now, she purported more cleavage than she’d like. It was inevitable given her selection of tops and the magnitude of her bosom, which had flourished further. They were close to Stacy’s size but perkier, proud on her chest despite the lack of support. She was already using them for her own means, going a touch further couldn’t be any worse. When all eyes had left her, she adjusted her top to bare another inch of breast. The tips corresponded.

At least she wasn’t stripping. Money was second only to her family, but she couldn’t sacrifice dignity for it either, not unless things became desperate. That wouldn’t happen. Things were stable now, better in fact, since the law firm her mom temped at had landed better cases, they even offered her a full-time position with better pay, and Stacy was earning enough to give Carmen a small raise. Which she hoped wasn’t due to their weekly ‘bonding’ sessions.

After break, Carmen worked with a full stomach and Stacy with emptied breasts. Even sucked dry, they had a hint of pert to them, as if they were already filling up for another milking, though Stacy had lost some weight. People did claim sex was a great form of weight-loss, however she hoped it wasn’t that good; Stacy’s voluptuous form was one of the few indulgences Carmen had.

Not that it mattered. With, or without it, she would love Stacy. Simple as that. Their attraction wasn’t purely physical.

Carmen exhaled as the final customer left. The sun was setting and, without a cloud in sight, the sky was bathed in fire, broken by wisps of smoke and airplanes. She stretched and removed her apron, highlighting the majesty of her bust for Stacy’s eyes, a quick tease for Friday.

“See you Wednesday,” Carmen said.

“I’ll call tomorrow,” Stacy whispered to her.

“Looking forward to it,” Carmen stole a short but loving kiss and left. Yes, things were stable now. She had a girlfriend, her job was going well, and soon college would be in her reach. Tomorrow, she would look into nearby med schools. If it was close enough, she could stay on with Stacy. Maybe even use her for practice. The thought ripped a giggle from her lips.

“Someone’s giddy,” Ryuka noted, descending from the unknown. Carmen didn’t know where she went during work hours, regardless she was glad that the god gave her some privacy with Stacy.

“Things are looking up,” Carmen said and smiled at her supernatural stalker.

“For you maybe,” Ryuka sulked, “You haven’t even touched the damn book. And I can’t watch you and Stacy get nasty. It’s boring.”

“Find someone else,” Carmen shrugged, “It’s a big city. Gotta be some kinky weirdos around.”

“It’s my own fault really. If I wasn’t so worried that I’d miss you finally giving in, I’d have done that. But it’ll be worth it,” Ryuka said and hovered closer. She took a long breath, swelling her chest into Carmen’s back, dragging the long nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt, “Your potential is fantastic. A Seikogami can smell these things, brimming beneath the surface. Everyone has that unspoken or repressed fetish. But you, hmm,” she sighed as if smelling the finest bouquet and dinner at once, “There’s no telling.”

“I guess I’ll take the compliment,” Carmen rolled her eyes. She didn’t have any secret fetishes. The mother-daughter roleplay she did with Stacy wasn’t uncommon, less so with Stacy’s bountiful lactation, and being the one on top whenever they used toys was just a sign of her drive. Nothing strange there.

Her sleep had improved in the last few weeks. She didn’t care to admit it, but her breasts made for magnificent pillows, and their weight made it oddly simple to drift off, like a permanent comforter on her chest. While her actual pillows and sheets protected her from the jagged springs in her mattress, Carmen curled into herself and nuzzled her bosom. It wasn’t the same as Stacy’s, but a close second.

And Melody was doing better too. Her birthday had come and gone. They’d gone out to an authentic Japanese bathhouse, one designed for families, and had their first proper bath in years. Astounding to think what simple clean, hot water could do for someone. Even Alicia’s fatigue had dwindled afterwards, though its return was steady. Not much longer, Carmen thought as she snuggled into herself. Everything would work out. The world owed her that much.

Morning came, normal as could be. Carmen woke from a pleasant, enigmatic dream to the errant ray of late Spring sunlight, while its slighter cousins broke through the cracks in the ceiling. Opposite her, Melody stirred. Ryuka hovered nearby, seemingly asleep despite having her phallus draped across her breasts while she nuzzled against it. The honour student grinned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she sat up, happy enough to face another day. One more down.

Then she felt it. Something that shouldn’t be. The potential of it had nibbled at the furthest abyss of her thoughts, creeping up at random, now it was realised. Carmen froze and watched her sister mumble and turn away, before she flung off her own meagre covers. She lowered her eyes, slow, as if she was looking away from a predator. A rush of cold flowed through her fingers then mitigated throughout her body. A slight chill, but the kind that’s impossible to identify or ignore.

“This isn’t happening,” Carmen whispered, cautious of alerting Melody.

Ryuka heard her, however, loud and clear. Of course, “Oh? So it finally happened?”

“Bathroom. Now,” Carmen growled. Once in the cramped space, she pulled her pants down to confirm what the bulge had already told her. There it was. Unwelcome. Unusual. And, above all, hideous. A penis, small and limp, hung over her privates like a cowl. Two balls filled a wrinkly sack beneath it, each no larger than a grape.

“What the fuck is this?!”

“Calm down,” Ryuka yawned, “It was bound to happen. You read the rules, did you not?”

“It never said anything about this!” Carmen said and sat on the toilet. She ran her hand through her hair, which had once been a dark, sandy blonde colour, now it was closer to black and longer than she liked to have it.

“Oh? My mistake,” Ryuka giggled.

“This isn’t funny! What if this gets in the way? And… oh god, Stacy! What is she gonna think?” Carmen curled into her, taking deep breaths and ignoring how the air felt on her… penis.

“I bet she’ll love you just as always,” Ryuka said.

“No she won’t,” Carmen sobbed, “I’m a freak. She’s nice, but this is… even she has her limits. Everything’s ruined. What hospital will hire a transsexual anyway?”

“Futanari,” Ryuka corrected.

“It’s doesn’t fucking matter,” Carmen said, then sighed and straightened out her clothes. A faint bulge was all that belied her new addition, “You’ve ruined my life.” She said and left to wake Melody.

Self-discipline comprised Carmen’s psyche. It afforded solidity where others would crack and crumble to dust. She had a phallus now, it was small and easily concealed with some choice attire, so no one would find out. Her vagina remained intact. If push came to shove, she would have the abomination removed from her body. Though she doubted the Futa Note would permit such a thing. Regardless, time marched on and so would she. This wasn’t the end. Perhaps even a blessing. Sensibilities towards genders were sky high, therefore this might work to her advantage in college.

For now, however, she had more important matters. She gave her darling sister a quick shake, to no avail. Her face remained lax, though her body tensed. Carmen grinned and rolled her eyes, cleared her throat, then announced.

“Goodness Supergirl! The city’s under attack!”

“Never fear!” Melody leapt from her bed and adopted a true hero’s pose, fists on her hips and chest puffed out in pride, before losing her footing and tipping back onto bed. She hopped straight back to the pose.

“Good, now eat some breakfast. Even superheroes need food,” Carmen said.

“But the crisis?!”

“Will wait,” Carmen chuckled, “I bet the big monster is eating its own breakfast right now. You’ve got time.”

“Alright,” Melody groaned, “Who’s the felon this time?”

“Oh, it’s the worst of the worst. Goes by the name; School.”

Melody played up a gag, “A foul name indeed.”

“Yes,” Carmen agreed and handed her a bowl of bland cereal, though she managed to offer a sprinkling of sugar, courtesy of Stacy. Hers stayed plain. They cleaned their teeth, brushed each other’s hair, then the bus arrived.

“Go get ‘em, Supergirl,” Carmen said.

“I will,” Melody smirked, though her expression was strained. A shared glance to the bus confirmed the worry. She was eight, of course there would be bullies, more so because of her situation.

“Don’t worry,” Carmen said and crouched beside her, “Things will get better. I promise.”

“I know,” Melody said.

“Stay strong,” Carmen stood and gave her slight shoulders a gentle squeeze. A group of boys on the bus were gawking at her, some had mischief in their eyes, planning to either tease or manipulate Melody in some way. Fury flashed in Carmen’s mind and leaked to her face, frightening the onlookers, “If they go too far, let me know. I’ll deal with it.”

“It’s okay,” Melody said and walked to the bus, waving to her older sibling. Things would change before long. Another year, maybe two, and they could move somewhere better. No more weekly baths, scraps for dinner, or rags for clothes. To do that, Carmen needed more work. A second job in the Summer would help, she could save up for college, then rise up in the world. Nothing would prevent that.

The walk to school was pleasant as ever. Vapours of the city were muted by the freshness of Spring, people remained docile as they staggered to work, still half-asleep, and Carmen remained just another face in the crowd. Traffic slowed as she turned a corner onto the street where Saint Puella teetered. A small group of people in suits were studying it and taking notes. Government officials, she assumed. Not that it mattered to her. After one more short month, the school would be a best forgotten memory.

Aside from a few factors. Carmen spotted Zoey on the opposite path and waved. Mary and Dakota were already on campus, waiting for them, and Gretchen was nowhere to be seen. If they were lucky, today was one where she ditched school altogether. Such luck passed over them. Minutes before the bell rang, Gretchen strutted into the scene. Ashley and Rachel backed her up, like always, as did a small group of unknown sycophants.

“Hey there, carpet munchers!” Gretchen said, “Oh, my bad. Two of you are trannies. Must be weird for you dykes, huh? You know, if you ever get sick of dick, Dakota, you could always come over sometime. I wouldn’t say no to a free eating out.”

“Fuck off,” Mary growled.

“Oh?” Gretchen’s eyes thinned to slits and her smile twisted into a knowing smirk, “News spreads fast, freak. I know all about you and Dakota fucking in the bathrooms.”

Zoey stepped in, “She said ‘fuck off’.”

“What’re you gonna do about it? Touch me and I’ll get you arrested for sexual assault, after all, who’d believe a freakish tranny like you… Jesus, you’re like a fucking tree. Dumb as one, I bet. What do mommy and daddy spend on you, huh? Gotta be custom shit with tits like those. I guess the doctor lied when he said mine were the biggest he would do. Or maybe your ‘girlfriend’ buys all your shit for you?”

Zoey’s tan darkened to a dangerous shade, “I don’t give a fuck if I’m expelled, so leave, before I rip out your tits.”

Gretchen chortled at that, “Frightening.” It was, the earlier confidence in her eyes gave out to fear as she stepped away. She left with a final, condescending smirk to the group. Rachel also looked back, though her expression was torn between contempt and neutrality.

“What’s with her?” Dakota groaned, rubbing at her temples. She was flushed, as was Mary, “So, uh… cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

“About what?” Carmen asked.

“Us,” Dakota glanced to Mary, then to the ground, “You know, that we’re… uh…”

“I don’t care,” Carmen said, offering a grin to the pair, “I think it’s nice.”

“Same,” Zoey said. She pulled them both into a hug, her pristine musculature encompassing them with ease.

“Thanks,” Mary refused to meet anyone’s eyes, though her lips were tilted in gratitude, “Oh!” She broke free from Zoey and hefted her breasts, “They grew again.” Of course they had, Carmen thought. That was how she’d written it. With the latest spurt, her once plastic friend now sported the largest boobs in the school, while Zoey, Carmen and Gretchen nipped at her heels, and unlike before, they looked like they belonged. A hint of her implants kept their bases too full, however no one would notice at a glance. Even Carmen had difficulty despite her staring.

She blinked and snatched her gaze away. What was that? No one noticed to her fortune, only she had, and that was enough to warrant concern. Carmen shifted weight on impulse and felt her erection slip from her panties to rub against her thigh.

“Sorry guys, uh, gotta use the bathroom,” she said and rushed away. She slipped her bag to her front, using it to shield the obtuse shape.

“All students report to the gymnasium for a mandatory assembly!” Principal Blake’s voice rang through the school, hollow and tinny from the outdated sound system. A collective groan answered it. Carmen took a long breath, she wasn’t far from the gym. If she arrived soon enough, no one would notice. Others took a lethargic pace, while Carmen weaved between them, careful not to let her bag move and reached the gym without issue.

“Okay…” She sat toward the back, “Okay, this is fine. It gets hard, of course it would, but I can handle it. This doesn’t change anything.” Carmen let her words fade to a soft whisper as people piled in, before straightening her back. Doubt could come later. For now, she needed to maintain composure. Ten minutes later and almost the entire student body was present, barring the dropouts. Even Gretchen showed up. Mary and the others managed to get the seats beside Carmen.

“You alright?” Dakota asked.

“Yeah. Fine,” Carmen said.

“Okay,” Dakota’s tone didn’t match. She was suspicious. No one can know.

“Just some cramps. Think it’s that time,” Carmen said.

“Oh.” That placated her. Principal Blake took to the stage then, though she appeared uncertain of her footing. It surprised Carmen that the rotting wood even supported her. She called the murmuring masses to order.

“Quiet! Now, the reason I’ve called you here is to notify you of some changes to our graduation plans. We’ll be extending the senior class’s time here.”

“What?” Someone exclaimed. Carmen almost didn’t notice that it was herself.

“Settle down. It’s a preparatory measure. You see, funding has been down, so we’re planning on converting to a college prep school. Somewhere that students can go for a year before moving onto college. This means the senior class will stay on with us for one more year at the end of this term. And yes, it is mandatory. That is all. Dismissed.”

Everyone stood and left, the majority of them grumbling about how unfair it was. Carmen didn’t move. She stared at the podium where the principal had stood. Not far below it, she saw Gretchen’s sickening stream of blonde move. She was staring at her, expecting a reaction. But Carmen remained silent, going over her own thoughts. A glimpse of rage almost snapped her free, then Gretchen stood and left.

Everything had changed. Following the assembly, they were handed pamphlets explaining what would happen. The days were the same, but the hours were longer, leaving little time for Carmen to work. If she took too long a shift, then she couldn’t study. If she didn’t study, then she would falter and it would reflect on her records. College wouldn’t have been easy, but she could’ve manage with the added freedom it gave. This…

“Well? How’d you like that? I know you were so desperate not to say goodbye, so I got you another year with me,” Gretchen said, coming to leer over Carmen’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I made sure you got the toughest subjects.”

Carmen remained lost. She walked away without a word, mind whirling, twisting in every direction but found no answer. Her mom would need more shifts to cover for her share, which meant she’d be further exhausted. The woman was in her forties, anything more than she already had would take its toll. Maybe she could reason with Principal Blake? No, she wouldn’t listen. This was likely a perfect chance to keep her best student around to show off her results.

“Aren’t you listening, you stupid lesbian shit?!” Gretchen snarled. Her words might’ve meant something on another day, but they were garbled now. Carmen spared her a glance and continued to her first class.

Later, she laid on her bed, back toward Melody, and scribbled a million potential plans on whatever paper she had. She refused to let her sister see her worry. Her phone sat to her side, untouched as it hadn’t rang yet. Stacy usually sent a text or called during her break. Must be busy, Carmen figured. An hour later and still nothing.

“Melody? Will you be alright by yourself for half an hour?” Carmen asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I need to visit a friend,” Carmen said and left, though she made certain the door locked into place. The streetlamps were on, adding their false illumination to the dwindling sunlight. People were more energetic now, freed from work and school. Some were already drunk or drinking, others smoked. She ignored it all, striding toward Soothe the Soul. She needed to hear Stacy’s voice. Just seeing her would be enough.

Yes, just having the chance to see her girlfriend’s always smiling face and incredible body would chase all her worries away. A hug would be better, then she could smell the wonderful perfume of sex and coffee that lingered on Stacy, even after they finished a long evening together, and feel her breasts. What better comfort than her lover’s soft, warm, oh so very inviting tits? Carmen’s were a poor substitute.

Her fantasies coalesced, froze, then shattered as she stared at the burning building ahead of her. People were gathered outside, recording the action as firefighters subdued the inferno. Nothing would escape from there unscathed. Carmen rubbed at her arms. Her fingers were numb, despite the blistering air, and spread their influence elsewhere.

What did she do?

“Carmen?” She turned at her name and saw the sight she’d craved, yet it was bleached in horror and coated in soot. The voice, once warm and loving, rasped now, like a serial smoker.

“What happened?” Carmen asked. She moved toward Stacy and held onto her, afraid either of them might fall. Stacy returned her grip.

“You can see what happened, can’t you?” Stacy panted. Her eyes swam in the fire, as if prepared to cry but deprived of the moisture to do so.

“You’re okay, though?”

“Yeah, some smoke inhalation, but nothing some rest won’t fix.”

“Thank god,” Carmen breathed and clung to her, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

But it was. For whatever reason, for some unimaginably small sleight she’d committed, the world wanted her to suffer. Now Stacy was part of that. Someone cleared their throat behind her. It was a man in a black suit, holding a series of papers.

“I’ll deal with this. You head home. I’ll try and call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Carmen said and reluctantly let go. She kept looking back. It might have been the distance, or the still blazing fire, but Stacy was crying. At home, Carmen rubbed at her stinging eyes. Her throat stung from the small bit of smoke she’d inhaled. She ignored it and went to check on Melody. A sobbing sound caught her in its grip.

“Mom?”

Alicia looked up from the floor. Her back was against the couch and a cheap, half-empty bottle of wine was cradled in her arms. On closer inspection, it was almost emptied, with perhaps a mouthful left.

“What’s wrong?”

“I got fired. From both jobs,” Alicia said, slurring her words. She frowned and took the final gulp from her bottle, as if to wash away the foul taste of her words.

The floor swivelled beneath her, yet Carmen was forced to remain upright. A sense that she must maintain composure and sheer despair both worked to keep her in place, as if she were chained to a pole, with one side brittle but supportive and the other strong and covered in jagged thorns. She came down to her mother and, wordless, enveloped her in a hug.

“We’ll get through this,” Carmen said, though she wasn’t sure where the words came from. Everything was dark, an endless stretch of ink that threatened to swallow what little speck of light remained.

“I don’t think we can,” Alicia strained to speak, holding onto drunken tears, and held up an envelope, stamped with ‘Eviction Notice’ in bright red. A cursory glance through the contents confirmed its authenticity. They had less than a week left.

“I thought we were paying on time,” Carmen said.

“We were. The building came under new management. They’re kicking everyone out to demolish it or something.”

“I…”

“Mom? Carmen?”

Both fell silent and turned to face Melody. Carmen hid the wine with her body and walked to her, shoving a casual grin to her face, “Mom’s tired, sweetie. Come on, I’ll model for you.”

“Okay,” Melody said, though she lingered on their mother, who refused to meet her eyes. Not that Carmen could blame her. This girl was the core thing they were working so hard for, if her brilliant blue eyes showed even a hint of disappointment, of sorrow, of the horrible reality they toiled in, then they had failed, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Carmen said once they were in their room, “How do you want me?” Melody frowned for a second, then sighed and started moving Carmen’s limbs as she would a doll’s. In the corner, Ryuka caught Carmen’s gaze and looked away. Was she responsible? No, much as the god complained, she’d never shown any malice to Carmen. There was one person who wanted her to suffer, but even Gretchen didn’t have such influence.

Then who did?

22

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 21 - Another for the Book

4:32AM… it was 4:32AM when Carmen’s fortitude gave out. She collapsed in bed, unconcerned when the springs stabbed at her, or with the meagre cover. Hot coals would lull her to sleep easier. On her desk, a series of newspapers were strewn about with random ads circled or crossed out, mostly the latter. Her phone was discarded beside them, out of minutes and power. A teasing breeze weaved through the cracks in their walls and ceiling.

Ryuka hovered nearby, awake as always. She didn’t sleep. Sleep was a human necessity, not something a god of sexuality required, though the few moments of peace she saw on Carmen’s face were during those times. Dreams were a wondrous escape. She’d heard of her kind finding ways into people’s dreams, often recounting nonsensical landscapes or unusual happenings. Many dreamt of the things they longed to do in reality. Some were disturbing.

What did Carmen dream of? Ryuka could guess the answer with a glance to the other bed, where the smaller girl slept, unaware of the apparent discord heading their way. All Carmen claimed to want was a better life for the child and her mother. Not herself. And so, the Futa Note rested in Carmen’s bag, untouched for days at a time.

Everything could be solved with a few sentences. No human would have reason to refuse such power, even those who already had it. Yet Carmen all but tore it to shreds each time Ryuka broached the subject. The goddess fluttered down to Carmen’s level, mighty wings beating softly, and stared. It was admirable, that someone could control themselves to such a degree. Ryuka’s very presence should have driven her into a lustful craze long ago.

It was only a matter of time, however. She would succumb. So long as she had the Futa Note, whether she used its power or not, she couldn’t hold out forever. On that day, Ryuka suspected the wait would be worth every second. She’d already learned much from this single human.

“Sleep well, Carmen,” Ryuka said and mimed the same pose, intent on keeping the human guessing about what she did, and didn’t need. It was a childish game, but she enjoyed it.

Two hours of sleep were torture, almost worse than none at all. Carmen shoved herself up, her trained bio-clock rousing her at the usual time. If she let herself fall back to the pillows, lumpy though they were, she might not wake again. Perhaps not, she thought as a smell caught her attention. It was of bacon, a luxurious ingredient they had on special occasions. She got up and walked into the cubical that was their kitchen.

“Mom?” Carmen yawned.

“Morning, Sweetheart,” Alicia said as she set three plates with a fried egg and strips of bacon, still sizzling. She beamed like the morning sun, “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to cook. Well, this is hardly cooking.”

“What happened?” Carmen asked, a deep frown tightening her brow, while her gut clenched and her lungs stammered for air. Scenarios ran rampant. Did her mother rob a bank in the middle of the night? Did she do something worse? She wouldn’t sell her body for sex… would she?

“Nothing, just wanted to make my baby girls a nice breakfast,” Alicia said and turned back to the sink, washing up the pan, “Wake Melody up and have some. This’ll be the first time we’ve had a decent meal together in ages.”

“About four years,” Carmen said.

“That long?” Alicia’s voice was strained, “Well, better late than never.” Now her smile wavered, dipping in and out from existence. The longer Carmen stared, the tighter it became.

“Yeah,” Carmen went to wake Melody. Maybe their mother had a plan? Some form of emergency funds stashed away for just this occasion? Her gut roiled. What if she wound up working as a stripper? Or a prostitute? Both?

Her own grin strained as she watched Melody scarf down her breakfast, despite being told to savour her food. Alicia also struggled, unaccustomed to the masquerade Carmen performed day after day with her sister. All was fine. All was well. Things would get better. The same lines, on repeat, spoken with a different word at times, but still the same empty phrases. Except she had the means to make them real.

“No,” Carmen ground her teeth together. This was her problem, a human’s problem. If she used the book for something like this, then what would stop her from using when she next had any difficulty. Nothing. Using it for others was fine. Sometimes they needed it. Not her. She was different. Better.

“Did you say something?” Alicia asked.

“Hmm?” Carmen blinked, “Oh, nothing. Just mumbling to myself.”

“That’s weird,” Melody said.

“Oh yeah? What about this?” Carmen crossed her eyes.

“Ew!” Melody giggled, then tried it to no success.

“You’ll get it. I’m gonna go get ready,” Carmen said and slid a leftover strip onto Melody’s plate. With how her body had developed, more fat was the last thing she needed. Back in her bedroom, Ryuka made her presence known.

“Just use it,” she said.

“No,” Carmen growled. This wasn’t a good time. She doubted she could hurt the perverse goddess, but every muscle in her body was willing to try.

“You could get anything you want. That means a better life for your family,” Ryuka said.

“I know,” Carman said, all the fury evaporated, then condensed at the corner of her mind where it would wait until she couldn’t handle it. Which may well be a few hours from then, assuming Gretchen showed up at school.

“Then why…”

“Because it’s not natural!” Carmen said, “Or… something like that. I don’t know! Just… just leave me alone for now. Please?” She sat on her bed. It creaked under her weight but held. Everything felt heavy, yet brittle, like falling onto a bed of grass would shatter her. She pushed herself up and went about dressing for school. Even her abominable addition did nothing to faze her. It hung limp against her dense thighs.

Carmen grimaced at the weight of her breasts as she tugged a clean shirt on. It was one of the few that still fit well, though only because it had been stretched to ruin by the former owner, so it hung over her torso. All her other tops were either stained or too small, even the cute blouse she’d found last year in a thrift store. As she moved onto her skirt, which coiled around her hips now, though it managed to reach a few inches past her obnoxious panties. The underwear rode up between her balls and pinched at her phallus.

The shirt was an ugly brown and had a few holes chewed in by moths. She couldn’t use a bra, as the few options left were several sizes too small. Her former B cup supporter laid in a heap of now useless garments. If she had the luxury, she might’ve gone to get measured, but such a thing might well be fruitless. All because she had to have been the one to pick up the Futa Note.

“It’s your fault,” Carmen said, looking over the book. Her mother had seen Melody out, leaving Carmen spare time to lament the cause for her current predicament. The book was to blame. No doubt. Had Ryuka not dropped it, had she not picked it up, then none of this would happen. She would continue to exist without distractions, without Gretchen’s sights on her, and without knowing Stacy’s touch. At least her family wouldn’t be on the streets.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ryuka asked at the door. She referred to the black notebook, the cruel machination for the family’s woes, stashed under Carmen’s bed.

“No,” Carmen said and headed to school.

The day had no intent on improving for her. Dakota, Mary and Zoey offered to help, each inviting her to their houses, but no solution didn’t have her taking advantage of them – which equated to her using what the Futa Note had done. They wouldn’t be her friends, or this willing at all, if not for the damned book – nothing could done that didn’t clash with her principles. Something might come along. Her mother could at least rent a motel room for a few nights, longer if they found work in time.

“Ugh, let’s go the other way,” Mary said, retrieving Carmen’s attention. She looked and saw Gretchen, accompanied by the usual redhead and overweight girl, but now another pair were added. Carmen recognised them; they were the two Stacy had hired a few weeks ago.

“They didn’t…” She whispered, mind flashing through all the information on Stacy’s building. The only reason it could burn down is through the bakery at the back, or through arson.

“Oh, hey there dyke brigade!” Gretchen sneered, “Sorry about what happened, Carmen. I heard that shitty little café burned down. A shame really. But good thing Ashley’s parents came along and bought up the property. Now the place might be halfway decent. Won’t have that fat cow eating all the goods too.”

“You made it happen?” Carmen asked. Her body was numb. Someone was nearby. She was aware of their presence, their warmth, but it was muted as if felt through a coat of metal. Her arms were shaking. A glance revealed that fists had formed. Confirmation was all she needed. No more than one word that justified what she wanted to do.

“Not me,” Gretchen turned and arched a brow at Ashley, who stepped forward, confident as she could manage.

“I did. The place was an eyesore,” Ashley said. Not another word. Carmen’s body flew toward the wealthy bitch, who yelped and raised a hand in defence. But not fast enough. Rage pumped through Carmen’s body, loud and vicious, a hideous beast amalgamated from every emotion she’d bit back over the last few months. Her skin met Ashley’s, disgust seeped through anger, a visceral crunch preceded their separation.

Something warm ran down her fingers. Blood. She looked and saw that Ashley’s nose was crooked and gushing. Another punch might fix it, Carmen thought.

“Now you’ve done it,” Gretchen beamed, unconcerned with the whimpering girl. If not for Zoey, who grabbed Carmen’s arms and held her back, the same would have happened to her. Silence hung for a moment, disturbed by Carmen’s strained grunts and Ashley’s crying. A teacher rounded the corner.

“Just go,” Zoey said and stepped in front of her.

“Out of the way,” Carmen said, though both the others held her back. By the time she’d pulled free, Gretchen was acting to the teacher, making sure to omit any wrongdoing on her part. Carmen swallowed the bile that threatened to spill out, then left. Classes wandered from her mind. Perfect attendance, scholarships, all were banished. What good would schoolwork do when she wound up homeless?

An invisible shadow descended nearby. Carmen didn’t look. It was Ryuka, even just the scent of her was familiar now, a tangy sweetness laced with a potent, earthy musk. For a while, the scent had fuelled Carmen’s libido, now it faded to the background. The grass and dirt next to her depressed under Ryuka’s weight.

“You’re on the ground,” Carmen said. She leaned against the school, knees bunched against her chest, while she stared at the world.

“Don’t remind me. It feels weird,” Ryuka said and extended her immense wings. A blanket of black curled around Carmen’s shoulder, warm despite the absolute darkness of the feathers, “Did you do something to your hand?”

“No,” Carmen looked at the drying blood, “I punched someone. Broke their nose. But it didn’t hurt me. Or it did and I’m just not feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Carmen asked, though she had no interest in why.

“For ruining your life,” Ryuka said and rose, retracting her wing, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t give yourself a better one. You deserve more than this.” She said and tossed a familiar book onto the ground. A pen clattered beside it. On a single page, she could answer all her own prayers. And satisfy her rage in the process.

“Just this once,” Carmen said and opened the book, then her hand started moving. She gave brief thoughts to what she wrote, unable to summon logic in that moment. Emotion fuelled each word, and she allowed it to. She wanted it. Calmness had no place for this person.

Ashley nursed an ice pack to her nose. It still throbbed, each pulse a stab of pain from the shattered cartilage. She’d wiped away the blood, almost vomited at the sight of it all, and now sat in the nurse’s office. The nurse was nowhere to be seen, but she was heard. In the storeroom, which housed few supplies, Nurse Becket moaned. Ashley tried to ignore it, but the sounds echoed in the decaying room.

The door burst open, “Come on, let’s go. I feel like shopping!” Gretchen declared.

“She just had her nose broken,” Rachel said, one of the few that spoke against Gretchen. She had earned it, given that yesterday’s events had been her ideas. If Ashley said anything, as she’d tried when Rachel brought it up, she was silenced with a simple glare. There was no denying Gretchen. To do so was societal suicide for the next year, as the expunged girls could attest to. Without her favour, anyone became fair game. Even Mary was just another target for ridicule now.

“Don’t care. It might be an improvement. Besides, buying me stuff always cheers me up,” Gretchen said and turned, sweeping her luscious hair in a wide arc. The brown roots were showing through her bleach. Once she noticed, it would be another expensive trip to the salon.

“Give me a minute,” Ashley said. What else could she say? If she refused, Gretchen would lash out. Accepting her place was easier, and at least she had a semblance of power like this. Better to suffer with power than without.

“Ashley,” Rachel sighed but let it go. No one under Gretchen’s fist were friends. They tolerated one another, sometimes shared about their lives, but looking after each other came second. Gretchen was ruthless, so they must be too. If she didn’t care about someone, and she never did, then they didn’t. Her example was law.

Mary had been kinder. While not friendly, or even amicable most times, she at least looked after her followers. Sometimes more. A peculiar pang of heat lanced through Ashley, building as she recalled the circumstances that she lost her virginity. It was Mary’s handiwork, but tender, a setup with a guy that Ashley liked. The night had been fake – he was blackmailed into it – but she appreciated the gesture. Then there was that kiss.

She exhaled, hoping to relieve the warmth still swelling in her. Was she sick? Ashley took long breaths through her mouth, since her nostrils were ruined, and went about changing into her gym shirt. It was tight around her body, hugging the paunch of her stomach and excessive breasts. Her bra bulged through the material, and her boobs puffed over the tops of the cups. Of course she’d gone up another size.

“You done?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah,” Ashley said and started toward her, then stopped. Something was wrong. Her chest was hot, like an ember had caught wind, setting her expansive fat ablaze, “Uh, I just need the toilet. Be right back!” Ashley hurried to the bathroom. One perk to having no friends, no one bothered coming after her. She barged into a stall, slammed the lock on and stripped.

“What the fuck?” Ashley gawked at her breasts, which swelled further, gaining size before her gaze. A new weight built inside them. It strained her bra, which rode up as they expanded around the cups. She grunted and snatched at the hooks, though flexibility wasn’t her strong suit. Her breasts continued rising, each mound like dough in time-lapse. The straps bit into her soft skin.

A quick flash of inspiration caught her and she shoved the straps from her shoulders, then the bra itself.

“Thank god,” Ashley sighed and leaned against the basin, the porcelain was icy against her skin, while her bosom persisted. Inch by inch, new tit-flesh crept over her pudgy gut. To further the impossible sight, they perked up, rounding at the bottom until they took a tantalising teardrop shape.

“What the hell’s going on?” The void didn’t answer. She was alone in the bathrooms, mouth agape at her bust. The swelling slowed to a crawl, then ceased. For her high school life, she’d been part of the upper echelon of tits, in size at least. After their surgeries, Mary and Gretchen outmatched her. Zoey had always been the largest, and that Carmen girl was a strong contender.

“So much for ‘plus-sized’,” Ashley muttered once she got the bra off. Its label read ‘FF’, yet it was a miserable sight to try and fit her breasts in it now. She cupped the heavy mounds in her hands, each firmer than she could recall. The areolae had plumped, swallowing her nipples from view. The heat had diminished, though it still smouldered.

She couldn’t wear the bra. Doing so was equivalent to choking her breasts at their new, inhuman size. Gretchen at least had good timing. She hopped to her feet and swallowed back a moan as her breasts jiggled, slapping against each other from the movement. Each ripple in the flesh was a slight, but lingering pleasure. A step led to a similar reaction.

“Oh shit,” Ashley retrieved her bra and loosened it as best she could. Even so, the cups were ill-equipped and sank deep into her flesh, causing pleasure and pain to echo each other, but they did reduce the constant jiggling. Once Gretchen let her go, she could try and figure out what caused it. For now, however, the blonde alpha bitch was waiting. She did not like to wait.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we don’t stock bras in this size,” the employee said. She struggled with the words, caught between awe and horror at the size of Ashley’s breasts. Alone, they had seemed massive without teetering into monumental. Now, with others to compare herself to, they stepped into that new realm. This woman’s adequate chest seemed miniscule.

“Okay, can you just get the biggest ones? Anything bigger than this,” Ashley held up her old bra with disdain. It had pinched at her for the past hour and, since she was forced to loosen the straps or deal with added discomfort, they rubbed against her nipples as she walked. Worst of all, she enjoyed it. If the heat between her thighs was to be believed. Part of her wanted to deal with it. Another quivered at what Gretchen might do if she left without paying for everything.

Her parents were rich, not billionaires, but deep into the millions. They owned local businesses, but had some clout with the larger chains, sorting out deals that benefited them both. Under Rachel and Gretchen’s insistence, Ashley had planted the idea for buying the building where Carmen had worked. The fire was an added bonus that reduced costs. She wasn’t involved there.

Not that it mattered. Carmen saw her as the core culprit, a worthless scab that should be covered if not removed and thrown away in disgust. That’s what she was either way. She wasn’t smart, nor did she have any talents, aside from submission and ass-kissing. Without her family, she would fall to the wayside of society. And Gretchen wouldn’t let that change. Time for studying was time for partying or buying stuff. In that day’s case, it was three dresses, a pair of heels and a new set of earrings. Ashley would never say it, but it all made her look like a whore.

“Check it out,” Gretchen pointed to a flyer on the mall bulletin board. It was for a recently opened theme park, the slogan claimed ‘Thrills better than any pills’. Ashley rolled her eyes, as did Rachel, but Gretchen saw it as a challenge. She enjoyed several variants of pills, “Let’s go.”

“What?” Ashley said.

“Well, you’ve obviously got nothing better to do. And it sounds like fun,” Gretchen’s face warped into a snide grin, “I suppose your weight might get in the way. Is that it? Worried your fat tits will fly off on a roller coaster? I mean, I’d feel sorry for the poor sap that suffocates under them. That’s not it? Then shut up and let’s go.”

That was her way. Questions she didn’t want responses to, and a conversation that she settled without a word from another. It could be far worse, Ashley supposed. Carmen would have strangled her by now.

The park wasn’t far. Five minutes by taxi and they arrived at the entrance, where Ashley flashed her credit card, billed straight to her parents. Despite the weekday, the place thrived. Groups and couples milled about, yelling over the others about what rides to go on next. Not a foot of space was free, penning Ashley in with Rachel and Gretchen. The sound of roller coasters and similar rides roared above it all.

“What first?” Rachel asked, unenthused. Gretchen lifted her head from the courtesy map.

“Hmm, I’m thinking… The Juggernaut,” Gretchen said and pointed to a skyscraper style structure, around which a set of rails spiralled and twisted. Adrenaline junkies screamed for joy while the unprepared launched puke, spilling onto the surroundings. Ashley’s stomach rolled just from a glance, then it dissipated and was replaced by a sickening warmth. Like her breasts, except this flared within her groin.

“Go on ahead, I’m, ugh, gonna use the bathroom,” Ashley said and spotted the lavatories. Rachel gave her a suspicious frown, but didn’t press it.

“Don’t be such a little bitch. Come on!” Gretchen grabbed her by the hand and yanked her forward. Ashley’s thighs rubbed together with each step, clenching to try and massage out the rising blaze. It didn’t make sense. Somehow less than when her tits ballooned. Nothing about this should arouse her, much less to the point that moisture trickled down her leg. Please let it be something else, she prayed as they entered the line. Several people were put off by the fresh vomit and left, placing them up front for the next circuit.

The wait was torment. Those in front were placed, leaving Ashley to wait behind Gretchen, pussy bubbling with unwarranted lust. Her hair dampened and her clothes stifled her, as if they smothered her skin. She tended to sweat when nervous and, though she didn’t tell others, horny. Beads snuck to the surface and suctioned her shirt, made her bra chafe her nipples and pinched her panties between her snatch. Each sensation built on the other, until she wondered if it would break her.

“Next!” The attendee called and Gretchen yanked her forward. She took a cart to herself, as did Ashley. Not enough people were lined up to fill the coaster, so at least she wouldn’t throw up on anyone in punching distance. Though that concern withered as she clapped her clammy hands to the rail. She was strapped in a harness, one that crushed her tits into her chest and added another sensation. This didn’t worry her.

She didn’t cling to the bar to preserve her life, as it appeared to the attendants, but to keep her fingers from sneaking under her skirt. If anyone saw her like that, if Gretchen saw her, then her social standing was ruined. But she wanted to touch herself. It was torture. Every second, each rub of the materials against her heated body, added another level.

“Hold on tight and enjoy the ride,” someone said. Before she could find the will to back out, the coaster set off. Her hearts rammed into her lungs and ribcage, trying to escape the terror as they were carried higher. The ascent was slow, meant to set the nerves on edge. For Ashley, the stampede of her heart carried both terror and arousal. She could feel her clit pulsing against her lips.

“It’s too much,” Ashley whimpered and let go of the rail. She pushed over her chubby stomach and past the waistband of her school skirt, there she found a muggy furnace. Her finger traced the soaked, half-devoured line of her panties, before shoving it aside. The coaster took a sudden dip and sent air bellowing against her snatch. Terror was replaced by relief, then a need for more.

She ignored the swerving motions of the ride and sank two fingers inside herself. Had she ever been this wet? Her velvet walls swallowed her with ease, allowing her to glide along them, while coating each digit in cum. Ashley’s other hand found a breast, sinking past the harness, shirt and bra to ignite another source of pleasure. Each time she pushed into herself, her walls clenched and released, as if milking a cock. That would be perfect. A nice, thick juicy cock sliding up her cunt until it hit her womb. She added a third finger and let loose a powerful moan.

Ashley ground against her hand and the cart. Gusts of air bombarded her hand and pussy, piling still more sensations upon her. The heat bellowed, almost demanding another finger. She obliged and stretched her walls wider than ever. Most days she stuck to two, or perhaps three if she felt daring, never four. But this was exactly what her body needed.

Up, down, around. Her fingers and the coaster mimicked one another, granting thrills of different natures to its passengers. As she continued, her lips seemed to engorge. They feasted on the fire and pleasure, as if trying to devour her hand. If that’s what it wanted, then she would supply it. Ashley curved her fingers into a cone, thumb tight against her palm, and pushed. Gushing with juices and powered by inane lust, her knuckles soon slid inside. The ride jumped in speed. Everyone screamed, Ashley included. Though her joy came from the explosions in her body.

The bliss erupted from her cunt, through her womb and belly, straight to her tits. Ashley found a nipple that had pushed from its home and tugged on it. The nub was firm, harder than it should be, yet she paid it no mind and worked to prolong her ecstasy. Just subtle shifts of her hand were enough to propel the dizzying pleasure to new heights. If it continued, she would pass out.

A new, alien sensation latched to her consciousness, however. It brought her attention away from the pleasure, though it continued to blare in the background, to watch a series of viscous, white droplets leak from her chest. Lactation… from her? Ashley went to inspect them, pulling her fist free. Her body seized and her eyes rolled as the release sent her spiralling back into bliss, while the coaster began its final descent.

“Everybody off!”

Where was she? Ashley cracked her eyes open and saw people climbing from the carts. A drop of something landed on her thigh. Oh god, she hoped she didn’t puke. She hadn’t. This liquid was a sterling white and came from her breast.

“Shit!” Ashley struggled with the harness, though it refused to give. Her dominant hand kept slipping. An attendant came over to help. The slow ascent couldn’t compare to how this made her heart race, or how it brought the blood gushing to her cheeks. They didn’t say anything. Were they blind to the milk? Or did they just think she’d had a drink on her? Please let them think that.

Once free, she ignored Gretchen and rushed to the toilets. She had to see what was wrong with her body and, much as it unnerved her, she was still horny.

Carmen finally stood. She brushed the dirt and grass from her uniform. The blood on her hand had long since dried. Ryuka hovered overhead, offering company and solitude in equal measures. For all she disliked about the Seikogami, having someone around was pleasant, if nothing but to think she wasn’t alone. And to distract herself from what she had just done.

Not that she did anything wrong. If she hadn’t used the book, then she might’ve tried killing Ashley. Even so, the thought crept in and out, tempting her. It would be fair. Ashley had been responsible for ruining Stacy’s business, and put her life in danger too, and, though she hadn’t said as much, Carmen suspected she was responsible for her mother getting fired too. And for the eviction notice. She shook her head and took a deep breath. If she thought on it too long, she’d rewrite the entry. Once the book did as she’d commanded, everything would be fine.

“Are you alright?” Ryuka asked, coming to a gentle flutter nearby.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” Carmen said and looked to her companion. Again, she took in how beauty seemed defined by this creature. Every curve, crevice, dip and fold was meticulous it seemed, designed to attract. Even the oversized phallus suited her.

“You know, you can talk to me,” Ryuka said, “I’m not above trying to help you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Carmen paused outside the school doors, looking at the decaying building, then at the goddess beside her, “Ryuka, what is the Futa Note doing to me?”

“I thought you’d have figured it out,” the Seikogami righted her posture, accentuating every arch of her body, and lifted her penis as if holding a priceless artefact, “You’re becoming like me. Or a facsimile of me.”

“Then what’s the point?” Carmen asked, looking back to the school, “I’m doomed to become a sex-crazed freak, so what good is learning?”

“I never said you’d be sex-crazed.”

“If I become even a fraction like you, then I will be.”

“Oh, honey,” Ryuka chuckled, “A body is just a body.” She pulled Carmen into an embrace, crushing her into the enormous bosom and enveloping her in their soft warmth. It would be easy just to close her eyes and let the world melt away. Ryuka was a Seikogami, a being that lived for millennia and survived on sex. What could she do?

“Your mind will always be yours,” Ryuka said, the teasing husk to her voice diminished, replaced by sincerity, “Nothing can change who you are.”

“Now you’re creeping me out,” Carmen said, though a smile broke the taut surface. She pulled away, “Thanks. You might not be such a bad roommate after all.”

“Damn straight. Now, onto other matters, what did you write?”

Carmen headed into the building, wondering the same thing. She’d worked in a daze after all, not taking the time to think before committing entire sentences. Had she turned Ashley into a monster? Or just made something from her deepest fantasies? She didn’t dare read the new entry either, certain her emotions had done her rage justice. If they hadn’t, then what was a few more changes?

23

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 22 - Public Changes

A zoo would be quieter. And cleaner. Ashley sat in the cramped toilet, chest pumping to her panicked breaths. Sweat clung to her shirt and adhered it to her skin. She peeled it away, grimacing at the tightness in her breasts, which shoved against the fabric, and the heavy odour that mired the space. People bustled around her, chatting and complaining about long waits. The doors next to hers creaked open and slammed shut repeatedly.

“Okay, okay, this is fine. It’s over. I’ve got this,” Ashley didn’t believe herself for a second. Each word sounded like she was dying, suffocated by the bra. It seemed to have shrunk, but she knew better. Her tits had grown to overflow and swallow the cups. They were tight as well, the skin barely gave under her touch, and the nipples refused to retract. Worse, they sloshed if she moved too suddenly.

It still didn’t make sense. Nothing should cause her to lactate. She wasn’t pregnant, her few times with boys had involved condoms, and she wasn’t on any drugs. The ones Gretchen pressured her into taking once, years ago, didn’t count. Was she just a freak? Like Mary and Zoey?

“Fuck!” Ashley clamped her thighs together. She dripped with more than sweat. Hot rivulets crossed their way down her legs, having escaped before she closed them. It wasn’t urine, though she almost wished it were. That could be explained as simple terror from the roller-coaster. What would Gretchen say if she saw that she had cum? And she’d soaked her shirt in her own milk of all things.

She couldn’t just leave either. Gretchen would demand an explanation and nothing would satisfy her. The ‘psychological damage’ of being abandoned would be a limitless supply of ammo, brought up any chance she got and turned into insults, and she’d take them. Ashley couldn’t refuse that woman, regardless of how she despised her. Because what would she do then? Crawl to Mary and beg to join the freak crowd and become a target for Gretchen?

Changing schools wasn’t an option. Her parents had ties to the board committee for Saint Puella. Leaving would sever those ties and cost them potential favours in the future, which could cost them. Maybe not in a month or even a year, but it would, and they’d have her to blame for it. No, it was better to stay with Gretchen and tolerate her. At least until they were permanently separated.

Someone banged on the door, causing her to yelp. Others chuckled at the sound. “Oi! Hurry up in there!”

“S-sorry! Just, uh, just finishing up!” No, no, no. If she went out there now, everyone would see her. She sniffed the air and scrunched her nose; it reeked of dread and sex. Anyone not brought up Catholic would recognise it. People would take pictures, post it around social media, until her face was recognised and her family mocked.

The path to absolute corruption was paved with riches, even parents would turn on their child to keep it. Gretchen had taught her one thing in life, that people were cruel, regardless of relation. No one did something out of decency, but for something in return. Ashley’s parents gave her life and comfort, in return, she wouldn’t make life difficult.

Now look at her! Her legs dripped with her fluids, her nipples were puffed up and waiting, while milk trickled from them, and her clit longed for her touch. She was a mess.

“Out the way dickheads!” That voice… it snarled and spat every word, yet was drenched in saccharine, coated in sugar, then layered with caramel and syrup. Gretchen spoke again, “Hey Ashley, come on out. We’re about to go into the maze. Won’t be any fun without you.”

Yeah, right. She wanted to see her get lost and panic. Which she would. She’d lost her way in her own house before, probably because she never left her room at home, though it was the reason why she didn’t. Too many rooms to become lost in. Maybe if she looked for it, she could find a place no one would find her in. Then all her worries could drift away into nothingness.

“I… I spilled something on myself,” Ashley said. Better to give an excuse before Gretchen came to a mortifying conclusion, and it wasn’t a lie.

“So? We’ll find you a towel,” Gretchen’s meagre patience was lost and poison crept back into her tone, “Now get out.”

“Fine,” Ashley straightened her skirt but left her top, hoping the random folds would conceal her nipples. The bra straps bit into her shoulders as she stood, yanked down by the added burden of her boobs.

“Geez, you look like shit,” Gretchen said. She didn’t spend a second longer looking at her, “Hurry up.”

“Okay,” Ashley breathed as she followed the blonde. Whatever afflicted her wasn’t done yet, as her breaths shallowed and her loins quivered. Her thoughts hadn’t drifted, nor had she touched herself on purpose, nothing of the sort, yet her underwear wedged in her pussy and her thighs scraped it on every step. She remained present, eyes fixed on the malevolent beauty strutting away.

Those who knew Gretchen’s personality, despised her appearance more than her ego. Just a glimpse of her was enough to remind anyone of how unfair life was, and that it would continue to be. She didn’t need any of the work she’d had done. However, the attraction laid in how fake she was. Mary shared the extravagance, though hers had faded in the past weeks, while Gretchen’s persisted.

Her hips swung side to side, too firm ass cheeks almost clapping with the motion, and withdrew into a doll-like waist. With her arms down and her back turned, Gretchen’s core expenses were hidden, but a simple lift of the shoulder and they were seen. Two rotund spheres, planted in her chest, stretched her once adequate bust into a whorish size. They rose and fell with her stride and breaths, but didn’t jiggle. The skin was too tight for that.

From the outlook, she was a bimbo. All it took was a moment, however, and it became obvious that she wasn’t. Most bimbos seemed benign in their stupidity, at worst they offended without malicious intent. Gretchen used anything to cement her position. She was top of the food chain, despite being daughter to a failing school and relying on Ashley’s frightened charity. Whatever it took, she did.

“Get your fat ass moving,” Gretchen growled. She didn’t look back to make sure Ashley still followed her.

“Okay,” Ashley said and hurried. Her clitoris ached now. It was just out of reach of her thighs, leaving it to rub against her sopping panties. She wanted to touch it, a simple touch, something to soothe the discomfort. But she didn’t dare, not with Gretchen on the cusp of whirling at any second. Once they were in the maze, she could ‘lose her way’ and tend to her body. If Gretchen let her slip away, which seemed impossible. The entire goal was to watch her suffer.

Once they reached the maze, Ashley struggled to keep her breaths short. Her bra and shirt were tighter already. The straps coiled around her like a boa, while the shirt seemed to melt into her skin, offering enough give for a hint of relief, but impossible to remove. Much longer and they’d break from the pressure. Or she would. Both sounded awful.

“Let’s do this,” Gretchen said, “Ashley, how about you lead us through?”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” Gretchen snickered, “Just ‘okay’?”

“Yes.”

“Oh hey, looks like you do know a second word. Good to know. Get moving,” Gretchen slapped her back, made a noise of disgust and kicked her forward, “Ugh, you’d better shower when we get back.”

“What?”

“Didn’t I tell you? We’re going back to your place. I’ve got a bunch of guys coming to see me, so I need a big bed.”

“Get a hotel.”

“Like I’m gonna pay for one when I’ve got such a generous friend. You’ll let me, won’t you?” Gretchen neared her. She didn’t get too close, mindful of Ashley’s sweaty state, “Otherwise everyone finds out about this. I’ll change your name to ‘Skunk’ in minutes. Imagine what your parents would say.”

“Okay…” Ashley blinked. What was it about Gretchen that tore through her like this? Her eyes stung, but she ignored it and started through. Rachel followed them both, silently annoyed.

It didn’t take long for Ashley to get them lost. Dead ends at every corner, walls of fresh plaster painted to resemble a field at her sides, and a constant throbbing in her body. Gretchen chortled the whole way. She’d been kicking the walls, smearing them in whatever dirt had the nerve to ride on her shoes.

“Um…”

“Come on already!” Rachel whined from the back. She leaned against a painting, frustration on her face.

“I think it’s, uh, right… no, left! I mean…” Ashley wished she were somewhere else. Anywhere. If she looked left, the right seemed to close around her. If she looked right, then the left threatened to crush her. She stepped back and knocked into Gretchen, who lashed out. Once the tirade was over, Ashley hugged herself tight and tried figuring a way out. It wasn’t beyond Gretchen to leave her behind. She’d done it before as a freshman.

No one would help her either. People were cruel that way. They’d see her suffering, on the verge of caving in on herself, laugh and walk away. One might think twice, but they wouldn’t approach her with her clothes drenched in sweat. She wondered how the others hadn’t noticed it yet. They were within a few feet of her, surely they could smell how wet her pussy still was.

“Give up? Whatever. Let’s go,” Gretchen said and headed back the way they came. Ashley shuffled quickly after her, worried that they’d leave her if she lagged behind, then the walls would close and seal her in forever. Away from the world and any of its small joys. At least she’d be away from Gretchen, though the idea was a double-edged sword. Bitch or not, she was an idol, something to be admired and sometimes dreamt of. Such embarrassing dreams.

Gretchen wound through corridors like she’d designed it herself. Or the walls reorganised themselves to suit her wishes, weaving a path straight to the exit. A sign hovered not far away, flashing against the amber sky. When did it get so late? Another hour and twilight would swallow the warmth, a prelude to darkness’s gluttony.

“Oh shit!” Gretchen stopped at the exit and patted at her body, not subtly either. The guy manning the station turned to face her and got an eyeful of what looked like self-groping. She turned to Ashley, sickly sweet smile in place, “I think I dropped my phone. Go get it for me.”

“I’ll get lost,” Ashley said.

“So? My phone’s already lost. And it’s got GPS, so you’ll find your way out. Now get going. I’m hungry,” Gretchen shot the still ogling man a wink.

“Gretchen,” Rachel said but didn’t persist. She offered an apologetic shrug to Ashley, “Well, if we’re done here, I’m heading home. See you tomorrow.” She waved and dissipated among the throng of people.

“Please? Don’t make me go back,” Ashley whimpered, glancing back to the maze, now dark and hidden. What light was offered flickered dangerously, and made the walls cast oppressive shadows that seemed to dance. Others were milling around, unconcerned. A child skipped their way in front of Ashley, having completed the maze on their own. Since when was she less competent than a child?

“It’s not far. See ya,” Gretchen didn’t wait for her to reciprocate and walked to the man. Ashley was alone, out of her element, and still aroused. She pulled on her shirt. With the sun’s departure, the heat had dwindled, though her internal temperature countered it, like fire was its new normal. Her breasts continued their pressure on her bra, feeding the hooks into her back.

Maybe this was a blessing, she thought. Few people were still in the maze. If she found a quiet spot around a nearby corner, then she could take care of herself. Sparked by the thought, her nipples pulsed and let out a stream of milk. It dribbled down her belly and further soaked her clothes. The skirt was already a dark blue, so the moisture didn’t show. A small mercy at least.

Ashley took a deep breath and wandered back into the maze. She had no intention of finding Gretchen’s phone, which wasn’t lost, since she saw her take it out before her back was fully turned, and instead found a quiet corner. Once there, secluded from the outside, she peeled her top away. The once cute garment, embroidered with flowers and a subtle rainbow of colour around the trimming, was soaked. Drops of white fell from it.

The park must have merchandise somewhere. They’d have shirts. For now, however, she needed to get her bra off. A mission easier said than done. The hooks were well-made and at their limit, straining to keep their hold, and the straps refused to budge as well. Ashley pushed a hand into the cups, and bit her lip to keep from moaning too loudly, then yanked it up. Her breast came free with a wet slap against her pudgy gut. She repeated it on the other.

“Oh, thank god!” Ashley gasped and panted in place, inhaling lungful after lungful of air, tainted though it was with the musty air of a theme park. She leaned against a wall, sighing at how cool it felt on her glistening skin, and removed the bra. Once she had her fill, she inspected her breasts.

‘Big’ had described her well throughout her life. She’d been a chubby child, which persisted to the present. A soft stomach, luscious padding to her thighs and rear, and a chest that reaped just as many benefits. Her shape suffered but she had size. In the end, most men only cared about that. Now she had more than any could handle.

Manipulated by the new cargo, her breasts had attained a teardrop shape. Milk tightened the skin, she could see the intricate circuit of veins against her pale complexion, yet her stretchmarks had vanished. If her nipples didn’t jut out a full inch, or secrete a constant stream of milk, then she’d almost be happy for herself.

The size was ridiculous. Why any girl, or guy, would find them attractive was a mystery. No. Not quite. Ashley held them in her hands, let the weight rest in her palms. They were hot, sticky from sweat and milk, to her touch. She couldn’t hope to grasp it all without both hands. But the weight was comforting, like a security blanket, and their size made it impossible to forget them. 

“What the hell is this?” Ashley asked the walls and laughed at herself. What did she look like? Something from the internet, like those stupid photoshopped models with tits bigger than their heads. She looked to her own and judged them to be such a size, perhaps larger than Zoey’s even. Ashley missed her. She was one of the few who seemed to genuinely care.

Then she started hanging with that honour student. Ashley conjured the image, summoning all the bile she could muster, and found none of it. The visage came clearer than the sky itself, yet any anger, even a shred of dislike, didn’t come too. Other emotions replaced them, drowned them, too many to perceive. At the forefront was guilt, it made sense, given what she’d caused. But lust roared not far behind.

As if appalled that she wouldn’t focus on it, her arousal ignited. She clenched in shock and yelped as she pinched her nipples. Milk exploded from them at the pressure. Her body flared in response. It circulated between her tits and crotch, an endless cycle that fed each other. Hotter and hotter, until they threatened to burn her if she didn’t relieve them.

But here, in a maze where someone could wander by and see her? It didn’t matter. She couldn’t go back to the toilets, people must be drinking now so they’d be crowded and filthier, and no other place offered a semblance of privacy. She hadn’t seen anyone walk by. Better now than later. Ashley pulled her skirt up, breath hitching at the sight of her panties tucked into her pussy.

The lips were fat and swallowed the fabric. She traced them to her engorged clit, which jutted like a pencil eraser. A soft moan escaped her, she let it. So long as she was quick, then no one would suspect her. Once she came, she could call Richard, get a ride home and forget the day even happened. After she got off. No sooner.

Ashley tucked the underwear between her thigh and cunt, then pressed a trio of fingers into herself, “Oh, fuck! That’s good.” Her nails scratched the walls and caught the itch she desperately needed satisfied. The cycle of heat turned to pleasure. One hand ravaged her tits, switching between them, spraying milk in random intervals. Each drop seemed thicker than the last, and the sensation of pushing them out became harder too. When she looked, the splatters looked akin to a heavy cream. She moaned as more pushed out her massive nipples.

She tugged on them, one after the other. Each circuit made them bigger in her fingers, until she was using her fist. It should worry her, as should the overbearing stench of her pussy as it gushed around her hand, and the fact the cream had stopped pouring. Now it was a constant trickle, but far from the flood she’d first experienced. The pleasure hadn’t dwindled, it increased, pushing moans from her lips. She added a fourth finger to the slop of her pussy.

It squelched as she pushed and her clit pulsed against her palm. Ashley found a rhythm, slapping her palm into the swelling bundle of bliss, while her fingers sought deeper pleasure, and her lesser hand jerked her tits off.

“Ah, hmm, yeah… more, give me more…” Ashley leaned against the wall, projecting her hips and chest. She stared down at her body, ignorant to the changes taking place. Pleasure dominated it all.

Light flickered around her. A weak glow illuminated the sky, fading as the moon took centre stage. Much longer and the maze would be dark. It wasn’t for that reason, however, that she redoubled her efforts.

A new burn joined the others. It simmered in her cunt, turning her juices into blazing droplets as they oozed from her folds, boiled in her gut and roared within her tits. Ashley stroked her nipple faster, tightened her grip and pinched the head as she pulled up. The other needed attention, but her pussy demanded it as well. She yanked a boob to her face and snagged the huge nub between her teeth. What she wouldn’t give for a dildo or some cock to fuck her.

She humped into her hand, rolled her spine to push against her fist, and suckled from herself. The new milk, had become highly viscous. She swallowed and it clung to her throat and tongue. Even amidst her pleasure, the decadent sweetness came through. She sucked more into her mouth until it tickled the top of her gullet, then she slid back and forth. As if sucking a delicious cock.

Her pussy squelched at the idea and her mind embraced it. It almost felt like her nipples had turned rigid, building veins and a thick layer of skin. Because they were. Ashley’s moans turned confused, yet didn’t stop, nor did her masturbation. She had no control, just a spectator in her own head as her body delighted in its lurid nightmare. A puddle of her slop had pooled. Her ass splashed in it when she jerked in mounting bliss.

Pleasure soared and carried her mind with it. Any thought became lost among the clouds, trapped under a veil of worry, while she raced above it all, bathed in the sultry warmth of a sun that didn’t burn her skin, caressed by a gentle, teasing breeze and a serenity unlike any she’d known. Then the storm came.

All at once, her serene landscape turned to a maelstrom. The clouds reared back and swallowed her, dumping her back to earth in time for a flash of an ecstasy she should never have known. It flung her back above the clouds, into the maelstrom, slamming her with bliss. Something splashed her face, yet she couldn’t wipe it off. To do so meant stopping. Uncertainty flourished as other sensations whirled around her, but they drowned under her delights.

“The park is now closing! Everyone please vacate the premises and have a pleasant day!” An automated message broke her stupor. Where was she? Oh right, the theme park. So Gretchen had ditched her again. Ashley rubbed at her eyes. When had she passed out? Something gooey came away from her face. What…

“What the fuck…?” Her voice was muddled, her throat felt clogged with something, and her stomach rolled as she stared at a massive glob of white on her fingers. She looked down and saw a line of it stretch from her. Droplets had landed on her splayed legs, where a drying puddle sat. Then the smell caught up to her. Whatever was on her face slid slowly to her lip. She licked it up in a daze, before looking to her breasts.

They hadn’t grown to her mercy, but the areolae were huge and dark. Almost black. The nipples no longer stood out, instead they’d inverted. Two slits adorned the front of her monumental bust. She touched them and jerked away. This wasn’t natural. Must be a hallucination. The park had said it was better than drugs, probably because they pumped drugs into the air. Or something.

“The park is now closing…” the message repeated. She had more important things to worry about. The wavering light above finally gave out. She fumbled for her phone and found it covered in gunk, but it worked. A moment later and she dialled for her most trusted butler.

“Hello, Richard? I need you to come get me. Um, that new theme park... yeah, that one! Also, bring some clothes too. Thanks.”

“Okay, just… just gotta find my way out,” Ashley said to herself and pulled her shirt back on with a grimace. She took a step and shuddered. Her pussy was still swollen and, despite the sessions moments prior, it already longed for more. She steadied herself against a wall. Though faint, there was enough light for her to recognise objects. She followed it, slowly as not to agitate her snatch, and saw the exit sign, still lit up to her relief. Once free, she staggered her way to the entrance. A spacious car waited for her there.

“Thank you,” Ashley said as she climbed in. A shutter cordoned the back from the front, where Richard sat. He’d been with her family for a decade, and proved a reliable confidant and friend. When given the chance, she’d vent to him about Gretchen. He would try placating her, but not in a patronising way, as many of the others would.

“Shit,” Ashley groaned into her hands. They reeked of pussy and… cock? No, that couldn’t be true. It just smelled that way for some reason. Maybe it had rubbed off the walls? But they hadn’t smelled like it when she walked in. The problem was insignificant, however. Gretchen had said she planned on coming over that day, with the intent of an orgy it seemed, and Ashley had indirectly refused her. Tomorrow would be a nightmare. Couldn’t be worse than today, she thought and rubbed her crooked nose.

When they arrived at her family’s estate, she’d calmed down. If Gretchen was pissed at her, she would’ve called. She wasn’t the type to wait until later to bitch at someone. The smell had been masked by the fresh clothes and deodorant, though her pussy continued to simmer, mashed against her thighs. Richard had said her parents were home too. They wanted to talk apparently.

The estate wasn’t as ridiculous as those Ashley had seen in movies. They didn’t own entire acres of land. Enough to have a swimming pool, some sculpted hedges and a patio, all leading to the always stunning structure of her house. Four stories tall, a minimum of six rooms per floor, and equipped with all the extravagant necessities she could ever want for. Her bedroom was on the ground floor, near the kitchen and her personal games room.

On the opposite side, conjoined to the foyer, was the living room. A space dedicated to comfort made dreary and oppressive by the costly renovations her parents bought. Leather chairs, a fireplace, ornaments won at auction, a television set that slid from the floor and stood taller than Ashley, and other assortments that made it clear they were wealthy. Her mother called it a good business practice to remind others of one’s status. Ashley called it uncomfortable.

Ashley walked in and saw her parents walking to and from a set of boxes. Several of the expensive ornaments were gone, in their place was the buried family pictures they’d taken when she was a child. She looked like a cherub back then.

“Hey,” Ashley said after watching them for several seconds.

“Oh, good evening sweetheart,” her mother said and set aside a vase, “Frank, come on. Time to talk.” She gestured to a trio of chairs, which they then occupied. Ashley squirmed as she sank into the seat. Somehow, it was awkward enough to press against her pussy.

“So, we’ve decided to make some changes,” Frank said.

“I can see that,” Ashley said.

“Yes, well… we’re going into early retirement,” her mother, Angelina – or Ange to most – said.

“Okay.”

“So we’re gonna downsize,” Frank said and slapped the chair, “We’re gonna try for a more normal family dynamic.”

“No more crazy expenses, or butlers and maids. We’re gonna move to a suburb and be a family,” Ange added.

“What?” Ashley frowned at them, trying to comprehend and contain herself. This was something she’d thought of before. Her parents were away on business most of the year, when they were home, they still worked. It’d been that since she was a child. They had seemed so far from her, beyond her reach, that she didn’t tell them about anything. Not about the bully from second grade, or the one from third, fourth, fifth and so on. She ate what she pleased, since they didn’t tell her otherwise. Even after Gretchen forced to stay out well into the night and mornings, they said nothing.

Now they wanted to be a family. Bullshit. It was too good to be true. Something must be wrong. They’d made a bad deal, gone bankrupt and didn’t want her to know. No, that wasn’t it. Ashley stared at their faces, read the smiles that brought out the disused laugh lines around their eyes. They held one another’s hand.

“It’ll take some time to work things out, but we’re sure it’s for the best,” Ange said.

“I… okay,” Ashley made the mistake of crossing her legs. She wanted to say more, but feared a moan would slip out. The action had stimulated her snatch, which was on a mission to soak through the new panties she wore, and jostled her tits. They rubbed against her shirt. Something pushed from within, longing to be freed. It peeked out. She panicked and pulled her knees up. Another mistake.

Her parents looked to each other, then at her, “It’s a lot to take in. If you need to talk, just come and find us. We’ll try to be around more.” Frank said.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” Ange said.

“Y-yeah,” Ashley said and surged from her chair, “I’ll, um, see you tomorrow. Before school.”

“We’ll be there,” Frank chuckled.

Back in her room, Ashley pulled her shirt off and stared at the tubes that extended from her chest. Tubes? What is she, ten-years-old? They were dicks. Plain and simple. Hard as bone, long and covered in veins, and with a loose sack of skin occupied by balls at the base. The heads were strange. The glans angled downward and tapered at the head, which made sense. Nothing about the situation was normal, so why would it.

Tears overflowed. Ashley fell to her bed and onto her side, which smacked her tits and… and her dicks together, which sent unwelcome pleasure through her. The fact she was a freak shook her from the corner, but it didn’t bring the tears. It was the desire she felt toward herself, toward her now freakish form. A pair of cocks had replaced her nipples. They even had balls.

And all she could think of was how wet she felt. How hard her cocks were. How… how much she wanted to taste her cum. Her hands worked before she finished the thought. One for her pussy, the other for a cock, while her mouth latched onto and suckled the other. Her clit pulsed bigger too.

No, please… Ashley waited as the pulsations built until both her hands were occupied by a cock. They stroked as she sobbed and moaned. Stopping wasn’t an option. Her body was in control.

Carmen stared at her phone in silence. Melody slept at her side, nervous from their mother’s frantic state when they came home, so she refused to sleep alone. She was glad to share the space. Looking down and brushing a strand of brilliant blonde from her sisters eyes soothed her. Carmen had tried calling Stacy again, to no answer. Not even voicemail. Their mother was at least trying to find work, but something told her it was unnecessary. Whatever she’d written in the Futa Note would fix it, though she didn’t know how.

“Why don’t you just look already?” Ryuka asked. Guessing at her thoughts was becoming a hobby for the deity, who swore to Carmen that she couldn’t read minds.

“No,” Carmen shook her head and set her phone aside. It was late. She should at least try and sleep. Tomorrow would be an interesting day, especially to see what had become of Ashley. A tingle ran down her spine and her penis twitched. She cut the sensation off with a dangerous thought.

“I saw that,” Ryuka chuckled. She came to hover over her, inhuman glory radiating despite the lack of light, “You got turned on for a second. Someone’s starting to enjoy herself.”

“Shut up,” Carmen said, though she didn’t deny it. Power had an enthralling and forbidden taste to it, more so when used for retribution, to make a girl suffer. She drifted, exhausted from last night and the day’s events. What had she done to Ashley?

That same girl bit into her pillow to keep from screaming as an orgasm overwhelmed her. It was the strongest yet, brought on by a sudden fantasy she never expected. She’d imagined Carmen, the girl who had punched her hours earlier. It didn’t take much from there. Nudity, a little dirty talk, and Ashley became putty. She passed out shortly after, dreading the day to come.

24

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 23 - Ashley's Excess

Life is strange. It throws absurdities at people without warning. Mary having a dick was one, and Dakota being gay was another, then Zoey… Now Ashley had been afflicted. The signs were clear after the first three. Rachel hadn’t blinked when Dakota acted weird, she had expected the girl was gay or at least bi, but the former queen bee of Saint Puella was another matter. By how she behaved, it almost seemed like Mary hadn’t been born a shemale. But it would explain why she was so eager to get implants.

Rachel tapped her foot, chewing on a mouthful of jammed toast. It was burnt from their faulty toaster, and Leah refused to buy a new one out of pocket, so she was stuck with the charred bread until their parents came home. Next month. Great.

“Got everything you need?” Leah asked as she fiddled with her uniform. She waitressed at a small café, a nice enough place with good tips for a buxom girl like her.

“Yeah,” Rachel sighed and drowned the taste of cinders with her sister’s milk.

“Hey! I was gonna drink that,” Leah pouted.

“Yeah, sure. Not like you need any more milk,” Rachel said with an unsubtle look at Leah’s breasts, “Besides, I’m the runt, so I need every drop I can get.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Leah said, eying her sadly. Rachel bit back her response and left to stand beside her sibling’s third-hand car, while Leah strolled into the driveway. They were sisters through blood alone. Few hints gave it away. The green eyes and slight crook they shared were offset by Leah’s wider face, which lacked the splay of freckles Rachel sported, and her physique. Where Rachel was lithe and small, her sister towered.

“I’d kill to look like you,” Leah added once in the vehicle. It smelled of her work, several discarded bags of leftovers crowded the backseat, forcing Rachel upfront. She curled her lip at the mess.

“I thought you were gonna clean up.”

Leah shrugged, “I was, but…”

“Whatever. Give me five bucks and I’ll do it for you,” Rachel said.

“Deal! Would’ve paid you ten,” Leah snickered under her breath.

“Then I’ll take ten,” Rachel smirked. Eavesdropping was a common skill, but one that she excelled at. Made speaking behind her back a dangerous affair. Or Gretchen’s.

The drive wasn’t long. Traffic dragged it out, as did Leah’s taste in radio stations, but after fifteen minutes the ordeal was done. She waved goodbye to her slovenly sister and walked through the gates of Saint Puella, glad to have a few minutes before Gretchen arrived with the principal. People sifted through, carried by obligation alone. Another week and the year was over, then it was time for a repeat. Rachel smoothed her hair against the wind and repressed a groan. She’d be glad to leave the school next year.

Sooner if that bitch just let things go. Time heals all wounds, but grudges can last forever. In Gretchen’s case, that was true, and everyone would suffer for it. She envied those who had dropped out, but if she followed them, who knew what Gretchen would do.

Unless something happened before then. Rachel sat on the steps outside the building, pondering her phone while her leg bounced. There was a pattern, she was certain of it, all centred around that honour student. Dakota encouraged them to use the library to hang out, where Carmen was before, then Mary went a step too far with her, Zoey had been made to ransack Carmen’s locker, then there was Ashley’s side. If she knew the truth, that Rachel was the mastermind behind her recent troubles, then she would have been targeted instead.

Carmen was responsible. It couldn’t be coincidence that they messed with her in some way, acted strange, then started hanging out with her. Zoey especially wouldn’t just cut ties with Rachel for a new friend. Unless there was more to it than that. She’d seen how Zoey eyed Carmen, she recognised it for her own.

“Fuck!” Rachel snapped, startling a pair of first-years into the building. She shouldn’t feel this way, not about someone else. It made sense with Zoey, a girl she’d known for years and knew better than anyone, not for the other. She pushed the thoughts aside, striding from her own reverie to see Gretchen strut down the cracked path, tanned skin glimmering in the sun and plastic tits all but popping from their cage. A treat for the eyes and a curse elsewhere.

“Sup?” Gretchen said as she came to a stop. Her mother walked in ahead of her, saying nothing of her child’s shirt.

“So, how’d it go last night?” Rachel asked, already ignoring the blonde as she spoke about the guy she’d fucked. A few points of interest snuck in, such as how Gretchen managed to get a threesome together. To say nothing else of the bitch, she knew how to get what she wanted. The one-sided conversation ended as Ashley walked toward them. Rachel blinked and looked to her phone, then back again, certain it was a mirage of sunlight. She glanced at Gretchen and found a snarl on her lips.

Ashley wore a typical black t-shirt despite the warmth. The neckline had torn, no doubt from the strain of its newest occupants, deforming the elegant embroidery on her chest. Rachel gulped and averted her gaze. The last thing Ashley would want is attention drawn to them, if her hunched shoulders and flushed cheeks were anything to judge.

Though Gretchen had no such morals.

“What the fuck happened to you, cow-tits?” Not a new insult, but rarely heard. It must’ve been a while since the last one, since Ashley jerked and tried hugging her breasts. They wouldn’t be hidden, however, and bulged through her shirt like muffins. Gretchen’s jaw clenched.

“N-nothing. J-j-j-just, uh… my period? Yeah, my period,” Ashley explained. If only, Rachel thought with a glance to her own pitiful chest, barely enough to announce her gender. She wore her hair long for that reason, detesting how boyish her figure was.

“If you got yourself new implants, I’m gonna fuck you up,” Gretchen warned. What an idiot. Anyone could tell that Ashley was natural. They jiggled and oozed around her arms, whereas Gretchen’s swayed ponderously if she whipped around too fast.

“I didn’t. I-I-I swear.”

Placated, Gretchen turned to Rachel next, “Don’t know why you don’t get some work done, shrimp.” So it’s one of those days. Gretchen would often vent her frustrations on her or anyone else nearby. After dealing with Ashley, she was the only option left. Everyone else had hurried inside when Gretchen appeared.

“Wouldn’t look good on me,” Rachel said, an answer made not to offend Gretchen at all. If anything, it was a compliment. With her tan, personality and wardrobe, fake boobs suited her better than they did most. Mary was a close second, though hers looked more natural every day, and perhaps Carmen Robins could pull them off. No, hers were huge enough. Rachel caught the thought before it could run with her imagination and quashed it.

“What’re we doing today?” Rachel asked, distracting herself.

“Ugh, mom’s going through the classes today, something about explaining next year. We’re stuck until she finishes with all of our lessons,” Despite her demeanour, Gretchen wouldn’t go against her mother so outright. Perhaps she had a conscious after all. Rachel doubted it. If the principal accepted the truth about her daughter, then all her freedom would vanish. Never to be found again.

“Since when do you care?” Rachel asked, “Just ditch, and tell her it was an emergency or something.”

“Can’t chance it. With all that shit last month, she’s being a real fucking bitch. Like it’s my fault Zoey’s a freak. She got what she deserved.” Rachel kept her silence. Why did Zoey have to get caught up in whatever Carmen was doing? The answer whispered back, contorted with jealousy, ‘because Carmen likes her too’. They could already be dating. It would explain why Zoey hadn’t so much as texted Rachel. Unless she didn’t mean that much to her.

Rachel quelled the very idea. They belonged to different sides of the social spectrum now. Any number of people would gladly spread rumours to get into Gretchen’s good graces, more so if it meant debasing someone close to her, and Rachel had no allies, but no enemies either. People feared her by association.

If Zoey spoke to her, text or otherwise, and someone got wind of it, then Gretchen would hear it too. Rachel would become another target, likely outed for a lesbian, and she didn’t have Carmen to rely on like the others seemed to. Nothing could ever be easy.

“S-sorry, gotta go,” Ashley said and rushed into the building. She walked differently, and her voice had a loftiness to it, like she wasn’t part of the same reality anymore. Rachel watched her disappear into the halls, eyes wide as they caught the bulges on Ashley’s chest. Massive tits or not, nipples of that size were abnormal. Freakish, even. What had Carmen done to her?

It hadn’t stopped all night. Sleep was skittish and what little Ashley had clung to didn’t amount to much. She was ready to crumble any moment. Makeup obscured the dark rims of her eyes and an anxious energy kept her moving. The culprits stirred beneath her clothes, which already strained to hide them.

Bathroom. She needed to hide before someone saw her. Perhaps they’d help her. The thought was crushed, its dying gasps silenced by realism. No one would help her. All they would do is report it to Gretchen, embellished to shame her further, and her social life would be over. It already was, part of her noted. Her parents were in talks about giving away their excess wealth; Gretchen wouldn’t need her anymore.

“Sorry,” Ashley squeaked when she bumped into someone and went to scurry away, but she mistakenly glanced up from the floor. She’d collided with Carmen, behind whom Zoey and Mary also stood, and now met her dark, baleful stare. Fear didn’t force Ashley back into motion, rather it was the terror of her desire. She almost dropped her arms, the only things that hid her hideous endowments.

Carmen said nothing to her and returned to her friends, “We’ll get by somehow. Don’t worry.”

Get by? Ashley rushed around them and into a nearby bathroom. Moisture suctioned her clothes to the skin, while her cocks rebelled, tenting the garments as she hurried to tear them away. She crashed into a stall and locked it. Moans and gasps slipped out when she removed the dampened attire, their slick forms rubbing her sensitive flesh. Her cocks flopped into the open.

This was karma for what she’d done. It didn’t matter that Rachel had thought of it, or that Gretchen had urged her to do it, or even that she’d only mentioned it to her parents in passing. She’d caused everything. Carmen must be on the verge of homelessness, those clothes screamed poverty. Didn’t she have a little sister?

Ashley sank to the toilet, hissing at the cool porcelain against her balls. Guilt and lust warred for attention, each horrible as the other for separate reasons, though the latter had the advantage. She brushed her breast, a torrid moan heralded a drop of pre-cum at her trio of dicks, and lust had its foothold. It corralled her reason and took her hands, placing them against her tits. They had firmed overnight, filled with cum.

What a freak, Ashley thought as she slowly stroked her inhuman phalli. The one spawned from her crotch was normal, albeit thicker than her fist despite its length, and throbbed in longing. She left it alone for now, preoccupied with the leathery feel of her nipples.

The areolae had darkened and thickened to resemble her members Where her nipples once sat, was a fat circle of flesh, from which her new anatomy extended. Her cocks were smooth, covered in dense skin broken only by the occasional vein. The heads flared and slanted to the tip, where her urethra jutted. She hadn’t dared research the shapes, afraid of what she might find.

Heat played across her hands as she stroked. It fed off her touch, in turn strengthening the lust pumping in her veins. Her tits weighed on her shoulders, pulling her down until they were crushed between her knees and chest, and put her face within inches of a cock. It was black-skinned, an onyx shade that didn’t belong on the human body, and had a protrusive opening. Murky pre-cum oozed from it.

Each breath caught in her throat. She could taste its musky tang if she breathed through her mouth, feel it dragging her closer, until her nose was saturated in its odour. If only someone could look at her then. They’d see a freak, not just in body, but in mind. Ashley handled her breast until the rigid cock brushed her lips, whimpered, then engulfed the first few inches.

Hints of her cum lingered amongst its own salty flavour, mixed with an earthy tang that lured her in. Ashley bobbed along the head and shaft, slow and tortuous, while her tongue toyed with the glans, slipping over it all and poking at the urethra to lap up the addictive pre. As the pleasure grew, she deepened her motions and suckled on the head. The veins pulsed against her maw and flooded her with warmth as she moaned.

Her other hands worked in concert like a slut’s would. When her mouth slowed to savour the taste, which burrowed deep into her saliva, pouring over her tongue as she drooled, they picked up the slack. She squeezed toward the heads of her other cocks, urging thicker globs of pre-cum out to use as lube. The more she got, the faster and smoother she moved.

Before long, the head reached her throat. A brief sliver of sobriety broke through as she wondered if Mary or Zoey had tried this, then it was swallowed in a tirade of fantasies. She saw them both, Zoey was taller than everyone and rightfully endowed, while Mary sported her usual bravado with tits the size of basketballs. They both doubled in on themselves, backs arched and tits flattened between their own bodies, cocks at the ready. And there she was with them, sucking herself like a true slut.

Her moans reached a crescendo. She fucked her own face, dove down the full length and buried her nose in the sweat and grime laden balls, before pulling back to gasp for air. Only a second later and she returned. Spit flung from her lips. Ropes found her cheeks and chin, a river poured between her heaving tits, both taut with cum. She rocked her hips to her own rhythm, thrusting her human dick between her boobs.

That was an idea. Ashley spread her breasts and jerked her cock upright, then caught it between them. Drool and pre-cum lubricated the way. It slid between her tits, pulsing against them, and to her slobbery lips. She switched between cocks now. Subtle flavours separated them, yet all mixed together in her spit as she all slavered them in her decadence.

“Hmm! More,” Ashley gasped each time she came free, as if the demand would be heard and fulfilled. It seemed so, as her cocks spurted pre-cum like small fountains. It landed in her hair, glued an eye shut, even clogged her nose. Her pussy wept in envy, so she spread her legs until it squelched against the toilet, then ground into it. If only she had a dildo. The answer brushed her ankle; someone had left a plunger behind

The handle must be mostly clean. So long as she didn’t use the wrong end, then it was fine. Ashley held a cock tight in her mouth as she changed positions and grabbed the tool. She straddled the toilet like a cowgirl, ass arched high, while her cock was buried in her tits. A few missed thrusts later and she got her cunt. The handle wasn’t thick, but enough to satisfy her crazed needs. She returned to sucking her trio of dicks, while her pussy slobbered over a common household item.

“Hmph! So good, so fucking good,” Ashley moaned.

“I’ll be right back!” Someone said. Ashley ignored them, so caught in her pleasure that anything else was like a dream, intangible and unimportant. She bucked against the plunger, driving deeper until the plastic tip bumped her cervix. It should’ve hurt, or at least felt uncomfortable, but she found only bliss.

“Oh my god! Guys, get in here! Someone’s fucking themselves in the toilet.”

Ashley moaned harsher as her cocks swelled. Her balls all trembled when she touched them. The scent was stronger now as she throated her nipples, and her pre-cum had thickened to a cloudy paste. Her fluids dripped to the floor, puddling around the toilet.

“I can’t see who it is.”

“Must be pretty desperate.”

“Bet Gretchen will wanna hear about it.”

“Wait, isn’t that cum?”

“Holy shit, it is!”

Another moment and Ashley couldn’t hold back. She threw her head back and howled her orgasm. Her muscles locked up, slight twitches rang through her, as ecstasy throbbed through her. Her toes curled, her eyes rolled and her cocks exploded. Cum from her nipples splattered the walls, rebounding to land in her hair and face, while her ‘normal’ dick sprayed into the air and rained upon her quivering ass. Her pussy shared in the release, strangling the plunger.

“Fuck, that’s a lot!”

“How many guys are in there?”

“Who cares? It’s probably Gretchen anyway. Come on, let’s go.”

The door opened and shut, taking with it Ashley’s blissful ignorance. She panted through the afterglow, staring at the mess she’d made of herself. The clang of the plunger falling from her pussy startled her, which brushed her cocks against the basin. Her flagging erections surged to life once more.

“No, no, no…” Ashley tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her and she fell to the floor. The impact should have hurt, regardless of how well padded her ass was, yet her body became alight with pleasure. She eyed the cum sliding down the wall, then at herself. One more time couldn’t hurt.

One more didn’t. The subsequent three, however, drained her to the brink of unconsciousness. Ashley finally stopped at that point, glad that her cocks were exhausted, though her bladder wasn’t. She slumped atop the toilet, waiting for the strange sensation of urination to come. Sometimes it came from her dick, sometimes her pussy. Either way, she’d found the experience uncomfortably delightful, as if her body was being massaged from the inside.

“There’s a thought,” Ashley said and giggled as she poked one of her nipples, finding the hole where her cocks rested. The touch sent a tremor of lust through her. Thankfully, her body seemed finished. Then she peed.

She locked her legs around the bowl and moaned, shivering through the moment as if an orgasm had overtaken her. The seconds it took to pee stretched into clouded minutes, refuelling her desire. Panting, her breasts tingled and her nipples opened once more. She glanced at the plunger again.

“No, fuck that,” Ashley grunted and clenched her muscles, cutting off the flow. She stood, flushed and got dressed, gritting her teeth against how her clothes rubbed her skin. They felt less like clothes and more akin to a skilled hand stroking her pussy, riling her up until she gave in.

“What’s happening to me?” Ashley asked her reflection. Her makeup had smeared from the spit and cum, bringing her haggard state to the limelight, and her hair was ruined. Jizz crusted several parts of it. Her cum. She leaned on the sink but recoiled as if shocked, then touched it again. It was as if her clit was touching it, not a finger.

“Can’t be here, can’t be here, can’t be here,” Ashley muttered under her breath as she paced the bathroom, then stopped as the rubbing of her thighs turned her words to moans. She pinched a nipple, hoping the sharp pain would hinder her libido. Instead, her legs gave out as her many cocks lurched. Did anything hurt anymore?

She remembered listening in on one of Gretchen’s many trysts. The guy had gone several times in a row, then complained that it was painful. By her estimate, she’d exceeded him and nothing hurt. Even the usual ache that should accompany so many orgasms was absent. If she gave her libido just an inch of leeway, it would take hold. So tempting… just to lose herself in it, to drown out everything she hated, to escape reality and Gretchen. That wasn’t life, though.

She cleaned what she could and left for class. The first bell had long since rang, drowned in her cries, but she doubted the principal or teachers would even notice her absence. Stepping into the middle of her second class, she was proved right. They didn’t glance up even at the errant drop of cum that fell from beneath her skirt.

Only as the door opened again to reveal Ms. Blake did the teacher pay any mind to the students. Ashley ignored the principal, preoccupied with the incessant breeze from the AC and open windows. Playful wisps of air crowded her cleavage, chilly against the damp shirt, and teased her nipples. A groan escaped her lips.

“Everything all right, Ashley?” The teacher asked. She never learned their name, or anyone’s for that matter. What little interaction she had with them was mostly through Gretchen, or with the threat of her name in the air, erasing any need for civility.

“Just a little, um, just a cold coming on.”

“Hmm,” the teacher left it at that. They remained attentive until Ms. Blake left, then returned to reading from a book on literature, monotone as ever. The rest murmured amongst themselves. None spoke to Ashley, though her name was tossed around, commenting on the state of her clothes, or discussing her spontaneous breast growth.

Let them talk. So long as they didn’t know that she struggled not to touch herself, or that her every breath rubbed her nipples and threatened to push her dicks out, then they could say whatever they wanted. At least it provided a distraction. She hadn’t attended class in weeks, always curtailed by Gretchen’s whims. Whatever the teacher recited had no relevance to her anymore, or to anyone else. Gretchen had seen to that.

Then the whispers hushed and phones were pulled out. An obtrusive silence fell upon the classroom, muffling what little sound there was, even the teacher seemed to give up and just read from a magazine. No one was talking, their thumbs moved over keyboards without sound. Which made it far too easy for Ashley’s mind to wander.

She latched onto anything of interest. The girl in front of her was reading an article, another played some mindless game, the rest busied themselves with similar online nonsense. One even watched a video on carpeting, as if she would ever need to know about it.

Her mind abandoned the room. On another day, she might’ve tried taking a nap to make up for her terrible night, but she didn’t risk it. Her eyes drooped in spite of her, and her head sank. She stumbled through fantasies, until one lashed out at her. Searing tendrils coiled around her until she was trapped, eyes staring as her imagination took hold.

Carmen was stood in an otherwise empty classroom and dressed in the finest suit that Ashley could afford. She had a kind smile that Ashley had seen in passing, though it was never directed at her. All she’d seen for herself was an unbridled anger even Gretchen couldn’t match.

The smile stretched into laughter as she stalked toward Ashley, who sat behind a desk stripped and paralysed. Carmen’s own outfit reformed into a lingerie set. Sheer, lace panties obscured the tempting cleft of her pussy, a matching bra bounced perilously with her hypnotic tits, and stockings bit into her thighs. She stopped, hip notched to the side, and allowed Ashley to bask in her radiance. The sun shone against her pale skin, danced in her dark eyes and hair. Then she was naked.

The urge to touch her almost took Ashley. She kept her distance, just staring, bug-eyed at the pinnacle of beauty. This wasn’t someone she could just touch, or even approach. Carmen was a priceless artefact, a relic of some lost civilisation, its queen perhaps, and was to be admired as such. But that only made the desire burn.

The door of her fantasy opened and Mary strode in. Ashley’s lips tingled at the memory of their kiss, sudden and fleeting as it was. She didn’t match Carmen, instead she seemed to bring her into an even brighter light. Their hands found each other’s, entwining as Carmen pulled the blonde to her. They looked to the paralysed girl. Both were so close that Ashley felt the heat of their bodies, smelt their perfume and saw the lust bubbling in their eyes. She wanted to be part of it.

Mary winked at her, a sly grin on her plump lips, and faced Carmen. Bronze and pearl skin collided in a brilliant embrace, while two lips, both painted a passionate red, sank into each other. Hot breaths rushed from their noses, tongues slipped out to taste one another, and hands roamed the other’s naked form. Carmen’s nipples hardened into cherry-pink nubs, and Mary’s followed, a darker tone from her tan.

More, Ashley urged from her prison. Her muscles were beyond her. She was doomed to watch their descent into depravity and nothing more. Moans slipped out now. Both took great handfuls of the other’s ass, massaging them, then travelled around to find the greater treasure.

“Ashley?”

She jerked upright. Something warm dribbled down her chin, which she quickly wiped away. All eyes were fixed on her, heads craned as if to see a show. Which it was. Her heart throbbed in her breast and a familiar push stole another gasp. Ashley didn’t wait. She stood and rushed from the room, willing her stout legs to carry her faster. Once outside, she collapsed against a wall beside the lockers, gasping for air. Each breath translated to her cocks, which engorged until they tented her already struggling shirt.

“Ashley?” Her name jerked her head up. Rachel stood at the end of the hall; face blank save for a frown. Anxiety snapped at Ashley’s insides. She scurried away.

Rachel walked to where Ashley had sat just moments ago. A moist patch marked her place, and a broken trail tracked her as she waddled down the hall, like something kept her legs from working right. The redhead thinned her eye at the chubby girl as she rounded a corner. Her shirt projected further out than her breasts should.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ashley’s voice echoed through the halls and Rachel’s ears, tinged with her usual fear, though a second emotion underlined it. Rachel had left to use the bathroom, but this captivated her. Strange happenings were abound once more, just like last month with Zoey. She wasn’t about to sit back without figuring out more about it.

She broke into a soft jog, feet silent under her petite weight, and rounded the corner. Ashley disappeared into another hall, but someone remained present, looking where Rachel also did.

“Oi, did Ashley…” Rachel’s voice died in her throat. The person was none other than Carmen Robins, statuesque despite her haggard posture and clothes. Only her skirt was clean, almost untouched, though several folds converged around her crotch. Darkness circled her eyes, pulling them in, and juxtaposed her warm cheeks.

“Yeah, she just ran that way,” Carmen said and left. It might’ve been her imagination, but Rachel swore a grin tugged at Carmen’s lips. She ignored it for now and chased after Ashley, and found her slinking out the back entrance onto the fields. Nowhere to hide there, Rachel thought. Not when the late morning sun blared overhead.

She strolled out and, still following the trail Ashley left behind, came to the gates. A glossy car was parked outside, windows tinted. Ashley climbed inside and slammed it shut, startling a flock of robins from a nearby bush. Just a glimpse, but Rachel caught a sight that had no place on a woman’s body, far less so where it spawned from.

“No way,” Rachel returned to the building, mind whirling with the potential of what she saw. Her crimson hair infected her cheeks, turning them to a rose. She saw Carmen slip back into a classroom on her way. That grin of hers pasted itself onto Rachel’s face.

“What’s your secret?” Rachel wondered as she passed the door and peered inside. Carmen was sat in the window aisle, eyes forward and taking quick, neat notes. A bag sat at her feet, from which a sliver of black peeked out. Carmen’s foot guarded it, changing position regularly, prowling for danger. So that’s it, Rachel thought.

Ashley didn’t come back for the rest of the day. Rachel made an excuse for her, claiming she had food poisoning. With her parents’ wealth and the exotic foods they could import, it wasn’t unlikely, so no one asked questions. Gretchen didn’t give a crap either way. They were stuck until her mother made her way through all the classes. Another assembly was beyond her it seemed. Unless she had other intentions. It was a worse kept secret that Gretchen came and went as she pleased. How long would it be until she was caught?

It didn’t concern her regardless. Rachel preoccupied herself with Carmen. The girl never set her bag far away, even at lunch, when she and Gretchen’s former flunkies went to the fields, it stayed on her person. Whatever that black thing was, it’s the reason for Dakota, Mary and Zoey hanging out with her. And more. Rachel couldn’t speak for Dakota or Carmen, but the others were certified shemales. Close enough.

“This is bullshit!” Gretchen said for the umpteenth time that lunchbreak, “If that fat bitch was here, we could at least order some good shit.” She regarded the cafeteria food with a snarl. It wasn’t bad for the school, but Rachel would be pressed to eat it on regular occasions. Zoey had always brought her own lunch, which she shared on the rare chance they didn’t leave.

“Hmm,” Rachel didn’t say a word. As the only one left from the original circle, she was the sole target for Gretchen’s toxicity. One wrong response and she’d be lucky not to get expelled, or for Gretchen to make another move on Carmen. Chances were that Rachel would be targeted next if she got pissed again. Though that would give her a perfect chance to see just what Carmen did.

No. She’d be part of their group if she did that. The truth always got out, and once it did, then her social life would be over, ruined once Gretchen figured out a way to really make their lives hell. But could she? Without Ashley’s money, then she was just a spiteful bitch. Even her mother seemed to have picked up on her personality.

Too risky, she decided and stayed with Gretchen. She observed Carmen where she could, occasionally catching glimpses of Mary and Zoey’s endowments through their clothes. Strange, considering that no one in her experience would be so brazen. Mary had been a slut on par with Gretchen, but growing a cock would make anyone self-conscious, and yet she wore a tank top that was too small and showed off her stomach, and her skirt was cut shorter than average. Just a little gust and it showed that she lacked panties.

Zoey, above all, wouldn’t be so open. Once word got out, Rachel expected her former friend to wear baggy shorts under the mandatory skirt, or use tape to keep it down, yet she didn’t seem bothered when it created a bulge in the fabric. Rather, she did it on purpose sometimes. Always when Carmen might be looking. Mary seemed to flirt with her too. And Dakota joined in.

Would Ashley become like them?

It was torture. Ashley laid in her bed, phone on silent, tv off and knuckles creaking as she gripped the silk sheets. Her clothes laid in a drenched heap on the floor, now missed as the gaps in her door and windows drafted cruel air into the room. The school day was over, but her torment wasn’t. After Richard picked her up, she hadn’t had a moment of rest. Just walking was a struggle, but she had to hide her front from anyone that might be watching.

Her parents were busy making phone calls at the time. They still asked about her. Richard placated them to her relief. If either of them came in now and saw her for what she had become… the thought churned her stomach. Not because they might be horrified or disgusted by her. Because she might not stop herself.

They had dicks of their own. Pussies too. It didn’t matter whose they were, she wanted to try them. Her cock all throbbed at her. Hours had passed since she last touched them. She couldn’t blame the things for being angry at her, not after she deprived them of what she wanted. What they wanted. Ashley bit her lip, knowing the correction was false. The pounding in her head and shafts demanded pleasure, sex, it didn’t matter from where.

“Ashley?” Richard’s voice carried through the door. It didn’t muffle his refined baritone or the subtle British edge. Her mother had hired him and it was easy to understand why. Deep voice, smart dresser, cordial and handsome. Probably well-endowed too.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?”

“Y… n-no! Uh, not right now.”

“I understand. Shall I ask the chefs to prepare you something?”

“I’m fine!” Ashley swallowed her moan. Biting her lip or tongue or cheek wouldn’t work. The only pain her body recognised was from a lack of release. Speaking wasn’t any better. The air diving down her nostrils or throat tickled her like delicate feathers against her clit, which pulsed against her obtrusive balls.

Footsteps faded and ceased, leaving Ashley with nothing to do but marvel at her body. Without the absurd changes, she might appreciate her look. Generous padding to her belly that was squashed beneath her enormous tits. The twin mountains spilled over her ribcage, so large they brushed her navel if unrestrained, suspending her inhuman cocks over the mattress as they dripped pre-cum. Her third and largest member maintained its place.

Heavy dollops of pre-cum gushed from the head and plummeted down the shaft, following dense veins until they broke at her taut sack. The skin shone with her natural lube. Dozens of tubes traversed its surface, each a different possible path for her pre. A sudden surge splattered her crotch. The heat went straight to her bladder, unemptied after that morning.

“I can’t,” Ashley whimpered. If she peed like this, she’d cum and never want to stop. Her parents would find her, either dead or insane surrounded by a pool of semen. It’ll come sooner or later, better to know when, she thought. It was her body trying to convince her, tempting her with truth while it dangled her ultimate desire just beyond. Maybe she could control it for that long. The morning might’ve been a fluke, brought on by the afterglow.

“Fine.” She stood, lips clenched shut as her balls fell and rubbed against her thighs, dick and pussy, while her tits whipped their own cocks around like tassels. Her bathroom seemed miles away. Each step forced her to stop and breathe, but that made it worse the next time. She took a deep breath and coughed. The musk caught in her throat, like a fine, humid mist that clung to the air.

Finally, she slumped against the toilet basin and relaxed. Her testicles plopped against the rim and her cock lurched, sending a rope of pre-cum across the tiled floor. Ashley clenched her eyes shut and focused on urinating. Sooner the better. Then the flow began.

She imagined a cracked dam giving way at last. As her body relieved itself, her head tilted back and her dicks all throbbed in harmony, yet she didn’t come. The tide continued and her body quivered. The seconds stretched to an eternity of bliss, dazzling her in pleasure, yet the peak remained elusive. When she thought the world would implode, the threshold expanded.

“No!” Ashley grunted as the flow stopped, taking her pleasure with it. She chased it, leashing her nipples in her hands and pumping them, pouring pre-cum onto herself. That left her ‘normal’ cock unattended. She abandoned her tit-dicks and doubled over, using her forearms to rub at the neglected pair, while her mouth caught the apple-sized head and swallowed it. It had a different flavour to her animalistic pair, the bitterness was softer, overshadowed by something she recognised. Her musk. It was the reek of her cocks made into a flavour.

“More,” she moaned around it and crushed her tits in her desire. The pressure forced thicker and thicker streams of pre-cum, a third of which she guzzled like a true cum whore. When she couldn’t go further, Ashley sucked. Any advice she’d read or received was worthless. They all relied on dicks half the size of hers. This stretched her jaw to its limit. It would’ve ached if she could feel such a thing.

She pulled away a bit and lapped at it. She caught pre-cum as it tried to escape and gulped it down. The stuff clung to her gullet, garbling her moans as she made out with the crown. She puckered her lips and slid them along the purple head, then pressed against the slit and tongued it. Drool joined the slop that poured down her length and coated her tits.

And still it wasn’t enough. Minutes passed without success. That same bliss eluded her, always just out of reach, no matter how she sucked, stroked or licked. She shoved a hand past her balls, squeezing them tight, and found her cunt. Three fingers stretched her folds and scratched her g-spot to no avail.

“Dammit, come on, come on!” Ashley whined like a common bitch in heat. For every moment that her orgasm escaped, her pleasure seemed to dwindle. As it faded, fire spread through her tits. They gurgled and sloshed, tightened and pushed against her legs until she was forced upright. Before her eyes, they expanded. Inch after inch of taut, tit flesh crawled across her thighs and to her knees, before eclipsing them.

“You’re kidding?!” Ashley pushed to her feet but stumbled on her new weight and fell forward. A cry escaped her as dense streamers of murky pre-cum shot forth. Her boobs swelled onward, devouring the floor now. They rumbled against her body, demanding relief. She wrapped her arms around them, failing to even reach the floor, and squeezed. Still not enough.

Her best wasn’t enough. She crushed them in her arms, rocked her hips to fuck them, but nothing worked. The growth slowed, but her production hadn’t. Cum surged into her tits as they quivered against her centre cock. They stopped growing, she realised with relief, then horror. Every inch of new flesh was packed with cum with more added by the second. If she didn’t cum soon then…

That wasn’t an option. Still more time passed in futile effort. Minutes seemed to become hours. Her tits had didn’t expand to her relief, instead they tightened, straining to hold every gallon of girl jizz inside. She didn’t want them to. It didn’t matter if she flooded her room, or even if she drowned.

“I just want to cum!” Ashley said and, as if breaking through another barrier, sparks exploded across her body and blazed toward her cocks. For a moment, her mind stopped. Her tits rumbled and stretched further, so tight they felt like leather. To her back, her balls surged while her pussy clenched. A calm settled there, before every synapse became a battleground. She lost herself within the ecstasy.

Fleeting moments registered throughout. She recalled the sound of cum slamming into the walls and the feel of it pooling under her tits. Each gush was a memory by itself. The load had condensed inside her, pushing it out was a trial that, once over, sent scorching waves of opaque jizz flying. A tile or two might have cracked under the pressure. Her lower cock was the exception and spilled its load with ease.

She couldn’t tell when it ended. It must have done, as all things did, yet she recovered to find herself still cumming. The sensation was dull by comparison, but she was cumming all the same. Even that didn’t finish it. Again, she passed out in her bliss and woke to the same pleasure, only improved. She once roused awake with a cock in her mouth, gulping its load into her bloated gut. It wasn’t the first either, as several others rounded her stomach.

Ashley didn’t stop. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. Anything good in the outside world couldn’t measure up. The chances seemed slim at best. Family didn’t matter when she could just cum and forget them, and she had no friends. Any cause to stop was superseded by the mere reason of continuing.

25

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 24 - Taking the Reins

Tiny and cramped, claustrophobic even. Carmen held her sister close, soothing away the worries of the day. All their meagre belongings crowded the space around the bed, and on a lone island of blankets, their mother laid in a fitful sleep. The bed, while an improvement, offered little space for herself, much less Melody. That didn’t keep Carmen awake, but a boiling rage at the statuesque figure that hovered nearby.

“It didn’t work,” Carmen said in the morning. She left the motel in freshly stained clothes, what created them she didn’t want to think of, and with a vibrant darkness beneath her eyes. She didn’t bother smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt.

“It will,” Ryuka said, “The Futa Note is unstoppable. Whatever is written, will come to pass so long as it’s within the target’s power.”

“Yeah, right. I ruined Ashley for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. You wanted revenge, and you got it. I’d say that you’re even now.”

“I should’ve written Gretchen’s name,” Carmen muttered and shivered. Even her tainted body was repulsed by the idea of Gretchen being enamoured with her. She paused at a bakery. The sunlight turned the glass display into a reflection of herself. Take away the shabby garments and she could pass for an escort. Around the corner, she found a strip club. Perhaps her body could be put to use.

“Don’t you dare,” Ryuka said.

“Why not?” Carmen didn’t react to Ryuka’s apparent mind-reading anymore, “I need money. Mom’s too busy to look for work, Melody’s too young and I… I look like you.”

“Because you’re better than that place. I’ve been inside those places before, they’re disgusting. I’ll never understand why you humans lust after what you can’t have. Just take what you can and enjoy it. And you, Carmen, can take anything.”

Carmen sighed. Kindness seemed like a blot on reality, a tenacious, unwelcome bug that refused to die. She kept her words silent and continued to school, maybe her last day there. Alicia’s savings were worse than she thought. A few nights at the motel, then nothing. Concrete would be their beds, carboard their home, and danger their constant companion. All sorts walked the streets at night. She wouldn’t put Melody in danger like that.

Her friends waited at the school gates. Dakota walked forward first and hugged her.

“I’m sorry about what happened. You can always stay with me,” Dakota said.

“Or me,” Mary added.

“If you need anything, tell me,” Zoey said.

“Thanks,” Carmen nodded and continued into the building. Outside her classroom, she paused. A group of girls stood off to the side, the usual set that lingered for long as possible while they chatted about whatever vapid topic took their fancy. Today, however, they had her attention.

“Ashley hasn’t been in for ages has she?”

“No. Haven’t seen her with Gretchen since last week.”

“She looked weird. Like her tits were bloated.”

“Maybe she got implants?”

“Did they get infected or something? She might be dying.”

Carmen strode to her desk and withdrew the Futa Note from her bag. None of her friends shared the class with her, and the spaces around her had been vacant since the semester started. Not even one page had been used, so her eyes soon found Ashley’s entry, the largest of the four. By comparison, Dakota’s seemed insignificant. Everyone else had something extra to them, a punishment to some extent. And Mary still couldn’t wear anything that didn’t reveal the majority of her body.

Why didn’t she just remove those parts? They were her friends now, had shown her nothing but kindness, and she kept them in a constant flux of transformation, except Dakota. Carmen shut out the suggestion. It was through these details that she improved their lives, and so it would remain. Even if they were no longer necessary.

The honour student blocked the other entries from her thoughts and focused on Ashley’s. Had she truly written it? Since when did she even think of replacing nipples with phalli? It seemed too much, added with the constant swelling and rise in sensitivity. As she read, however, her own penis and pussy warmed. Her heartbeat travelled from her chest and between her thighs. She glanced up and saw Ryuka’s knowing gaze.

“I knew you were a pervert,” the Seikogami said and floated to lounge behind Carmen, “See, you set it all up. You’ll get a fortune.”

“But nothing’s happened yet,” Carmen said through clenched teeth, both to keep her voice quiet and to stem the flow of vitriol she wanted to unleash. It would be unfair to Ryuka. Liar or not, she hadn’t forced Carmen into anything. That honour belonged to Gretchen. Always her. If and when the chance arose, Carmen would destroy her.

“It will. But that’s not all you’re worried about is it?” Ryuka asked.

“No.” She didn’t want to imagine what she’d done to Ashley. If the words came to fruition, then the rich girl would cum just by urinating, and she knew how the book affected libidos. She hadn’t used it on herself, yet she fought every minute to keep her desires under control.

“She won’t die, if that’s your concern.”

“She won’t live either.” Carmen sighed, “Do me a favour and check on her.”

“I don’t work for you. At least not for free.”

“What do you want then? I’m not writing another name,” Carmen added.

Ryuka scoffed at her, “Fine, what about giving that Dakota girl something? I think she’s got a thing for balls. Why not double up on her?”

“No,” Carmen said, later than she’d have liked, “What about oranges? If the book does what it’s supposed to, I’ll buy you dozens of them.”

“Hmm,” Ryuka’s lip twitched in discontent, “Fine. But you better keep your end later.” She said and vanished through the window, flying above the unsuspecting masses, breasts and dick riding the wind roused by her massive wingbeats.

An hour passed before she returned. Carmen sat beside Zoey, sharing her notes to help her learn more than the depressed teacher would ever impart. The athlete’s presence calmed her. Something about her height, dips and arches of her muscles, and smile made it seem like what she’d done wasn’t awful. She glanced at her bag. The Futa Note had helped people, she had helped them.

She spotted Ryuka in the hall after the bell rang. The Seikogami beamed at her from the ceiling. Whatever she’d seen had aroused her. Her cock stood erect and dribbled pre-cum over the floor. People slipped in it but didn’t question why, just cursing their shoes or clumsiness, even those who got doused in the stuff were no wiser. How Ryuka didn’t spent her days abusing such a power bewildered Carmen.

“I need the bathroom. See you at lunch,” Carmen said. The nearest bathroom was void of life, aside from the occasional insect. She shut herself in a stall, unwilling to look at her reflection. Ryuka quickly joined her.

“I don’t know if you intended it or not, but I love your brain,” Ryuka said and hugged her.

“Get off,” Carmen shoved her back, grimacing at the cock sliding against her body – and how it made her crave more.

“Sorry, forgot you don’t like fun,” the Seikogami pouted, but her tone remained jovial, “Anyway, Ashley’s still kicking, like I said she would be. But…”

Carmen sighed, “But?”

“She’s just cumming. I watched her for an hour and she didn’t stop once. When I thought she was finished, she just poked herself and boom!”

“Great,” Carmen groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head throbbed in dismay.

“You don’t sound happy.”

“Of course not. I’m an idiot. Aside from what I’ve done to her, she can’t fulfil the Futa Note’s command this way. Even if it influenced her family in some way, I imagine that she has to finalise it. As she is, she can’t do that.”

“Then change it to something she can handle.”

“Yeah,” Carmen found the book and looked over the entry again. When she erased it, she would have the same amount of time to redo it all. However, in the privacy of her mind, she didn’t want to. Ashley deserved to suffer in some way. Trapped in her orgasms seemed merciful enough, “Or add something.”

“Oh, I think we’re going to get along if this keeps up,” Ryuka later said once Carmen slid the book away. She’d need to wait until after school to test the addition, but she doubted the book would fail. It hadn’t before, she’d simply misjudged its power. The saying went ‘ignorance is bliss’, but it irked her. Ignorance is dangerous.

Anticipation dragged out her classes into numbing sessions of staring and pondering. She didn’t study, having covered all the information necessary for exams, and found herself eying the Futa Note more often. The idea that Dakota was plain, that she should have more, wouldn’t leave her be. She couldn’t. Out of their group of four, she was the most average, if that were possible for futanari, and therefore most relatable. She could have a normal life beyond them.

Although, if she hadn’t reminded Mary, and Gretchen, that the library existed, none of this would have occurred. She’d never have found the Futa Note, slipped under Gretchen’s notice, sailed through school. Her family would still be at home, and she might have still been with Stacy. Dakota had set everything in motion. Just being a futanari didn’t cover the damage. She deserved more.

“She doesn’t,” Carmen said to herself. She’d like it. The thought somehow had a sultry tone, like Ryuka’s natural voice, a gentle huskiness that both annoyed and enticed her. She looked to the Seikogami, who swam through the air, whacking her absurd member against random people to amuse herself. Their eyes met.

“What’re you thinking about?” The words came through clearer than if they were spoken. Carmen brushed at her ear, expecting – hoping – to find another Ryuka there. Nothing.

“What the hell?” Carmen whispered. Ryuka’s eyes broadened, then she chuckled and came over, plopping her breasts upon the desk, almost radiating pleasure.

“You can hear my thoughts?”

“That’s what that was?”

“This is incredible. I could tune into your head weeks ago, but I thought that was simply my getting used to you. But you’re able to tap into mine? Oh, how exciting!” Ryuka giggled, her hips shimmied like a dog wagging its tail. The cheeks clapped together each time.

“What does it mean?” Carmen hissed, wary of using her apparent telepathy.

“What do you think? I only have a vague idea myself.”

“I’m turning into one of you. That’s it, right? Because we’re becoming similar, our thoughts are linked or something?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. There’s no precedent, so I don’t know for certain. Could be that the book is opening our minds to each other. It was mine after all.”

Carmen pulled her bag closer. If that was the case, then the book was more dangerous than she thought. Her mind belonged to her, no one else, but now Ryuka could peer in at any time… “Wait, you said you could read my mind for weeks.”

“Well, not read so much as get a couple of words here and there. Don’t worry, even now it’s still unclear. Unless you’re relaxed, I can’t get a good signal.”

Carmen’s cheeks burned nonetheless, “Stay out of my head.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll use the book to get rid of all oranges. It’s powers are potentially limitless, correct?”

“Fine,” Ryuka huffed, “But feel free to look around in mine. I’m always an open book.”

“No thank you.” But it could be useful, she thought. No situations came to mind for the moment, so she stored the possibility in the back of her mind. For now, she needed to prepare herself for when after school. Once the day was over, all her monetary woes would be cleared. A better life for her family. A new house, Melody could have proper clothes, toys, and Alicia could pursue her passions. Things that had seemed like fantasies. If the book worked as intended.

The final bell startled her into action. Unlike many others, she preferred to sit back and wait for the clamour to quiet down, then make her exit. Not today. Carmen bolted to her feet and was first from the door. Murmurs and jeers followed her rush. She found Mary out front, waiting.

“So, what brought this on?” The blonde asked once they found her car parked around the block. It was a student’s car through and through. Bits of the paintjob chipped free and stains spattered across its windows. Birds had taken a chance at making it a Jackson Pollock, their work clear despite a recent wash. The interior had been cleaned, with soft seats and a coconut air freshener.

“I’m making amends,” Carmen said.

“How so? She put you in hell, and you broke her nose. Still seems unfair to me.”

“Well,” Carmen let a smirk slip, “I’m hoping to take her from Gretchen.”

“Oh? Sounds devious. Like something I would do,” Mary said.

“I’m not going to bully her into it. Just make it clear who has her better interests in mind.”

“To be honest, I’ve missed her,” Mary said, “Even before, um, you know what happened, I had a bit of a crush on her.”

“Really? I thought you’d like someone more out there.”

“She’s cute,” Mary shrugged and turned onto another road. They were in the better cared for districts now, surrounded by artisan shops and business buildings, the sidewalks spotted with trees.

“And her curves have nothing to do with it?” Carmen teased.

“Duh, have you looked at her ass? Hmm… delicious.”

They shared a laugh and settled into silence, listening to the radio while Carmen took in the ever-changing landscape. The car drove down a stretch of land, undeveloped save for the road, but clearly tended to. In the distance, a structure loomed, attached to smaller buildings on either side. Several vans were parked outside with large men moving to and from them, loading pieces of furniture or artwork. They never entered the home in empty-handed.

“Okay, that’s weird.”

“Yeah, weird,” Carmen gulped when they closed in. The manse seemed to spring from its dictionary definition. Ornate pillars supported the balcony that hung over the entrance, all made from marble and free of vegetation. The sun struck and bounced off them, dazzling her. The smaller structures seemed to be recreational rooms of sorts. Or servant’s quarters. Such a place must require an expansive staff.

And yet, her family now called a motel room home. Her foot brushed her bag and temptation whispered in her ear. Carmen took a long breath. This could be their life soon.

“Let’s go,” Carmen said. Standing outside, she held some hope that the interior might not be as enormous, which vanished with one step inside. Vases, busts, paintings, diamonds, chandeliers and furnishings all shimmered around her. She didn’t linger on the numerous silhouettes of what had already been taken. The dizzying walls led to a massive stairway that splintered into two directions, joined by a banister. The men treated them like spectres, working with a detached efficiency.

Mary led her through one of many doors. The floor changed from flawless marble to a rustic wood, varnished to a lush sheen. More pathways lined the hallway, but they ignored them all. No maids or butlers stopped them, though they passed a dozen. Carmen kept her gaze planted ahead, depressed by the mere thought of Ashley’s overwhelming wealth.

They stopped outside a door at the end. It stood out from the rest, painted in drizzles of colour and adorned with a plaque inscribed with Ashley’s name. The air around it seemed stale, a musty aroma of disuse clung to the walls, like no one had been around it for several days. Carmen quashed her sympathy. She didn’t have time to fret over Ashley, and the sooner she left this place the better.

“Ashley?” Mary asked after knocking. All they got in answer was a howling moan, followed by dull, heavy splats against walls, then a barrage on the door itself. Both jumped back at the impact.

“Um, what the fuck was that?” Mary asked.

“Y-yeah,” Carmen forced an ignorant smile, “Let’s find out.”

“Seriously?” Mary groaned, but she didn’t move when Carmen took the handle. She found it was unlocked and pushed inside.

Her first step inside squelched on the carpet, sending shivers up her spine. The room was dark, but the column of light she unleashed brought out the white slop strewn about. Ropes of the stuff fell from the ceiling and splattered against the covered floor. Carmen gulped and took a breath. Bad idea, she soon thought and pinched her nostrils shut. The air reeked of stagnant cum, overlaid by fresher produce. Her own penis lurched against her skirt.

“Holy fuck!” Mary gasped when she saw it. Carmen nodded and pushed in, ignoring how the semen soaked into her shoes and socks, squishing between her toes. She bit her lip. It doesn’t feel good, she thought, not at all. Opening the door displaced the goop and forced it to ooze out into the hall. Mary grunted in what should’ve been disgust, but Carmen detected lust within the noise.

They waded through the muck toward a bed at the centre. A shadowed figure writhed atop it, moaning and whimpering. Ashley laid on her stomach, fingers clawing at the mattress, while her hips rocked in anthem with her moans. Mary hung back and opened the door wider, further illuminating the scene.

Nothing was spared. Cum drooled down the walls, over drawers, a desk, even a tv. Lumps of what were perhaps clothes were macerated in the stuff. Through another door, Carmen saw a bathroom in a similar state. Ashley, herself, dripped with the stuff. Her belly bulged to the sides and her ass jiggled in her eternal orgasm.

“Ashley?” Mary said. Ashley moaned in response and the bed groaned under a renewed climax. It sank under Carmen’s weight as she sat. She grimaced at how it squelched, and contemplated the girl before her. Not an inch of skin showed past the creamy layers of semen, though she was pale enough that it might blend in. She didn’t seem aware another person was so close. Much less the one she probably lusted after more than any other.

“Hey,” Carmen said and placed a tentative hand on her thigh. The resulting scream was muffled, yet still echoed in her ears. Cum poured from between her body and the bed, too saturated to absorb another drop, let alone gallons. It couldn’t be gallons, Carmen thought and shuffled away to avoid the flow. Her skirt and legs were covered already, she wasn’t about to let her top half be ruined.

When the flow subsided, Ashley panted into her pillow and turned over. Carmen held back her gasp, but Mary released it for her.

“What the actual fuck?” The blonde trudged through cum to stand over her former subordinate, now equipped with two flaccid phalli on her tits, and another, larger member draped over a pair of huge balls. As she would always be. She didn’t deserve to be ‘normal’, regardless of how her fealty changed.

“Mary?” Ashley frowned and pushed herself up. Her breasts piled into her lap, both larger than her head – several sizes beyond even Mary’s massive set – and she shivered. Carmen hadn’t removed her sensitivity, merely offered an outlet for it, one that gave her control. The tri-cocked futa wiped the gunk from her eyes, then saw Carmen.

“C-C-C-C-C…”

“Yes?”

“I’m so sorry!” Ashley yelled and floundered to her knees, before bowing her head low. She quivered again, this time in fear, “I didn’t meant to. Gretchen made me. I swear!”

“Of course she did,” Carmen said, though she didn’t comfort the girl.

“You… you believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Thank you,” Ashley breathed, though she didn’t raise her head, “And for, um, helping me. I feel so much better. How did you do that?” Now she sat back. Her eyes struggled to keep focus and her voice had a muddled sound to it, likely from the only nourishment she could get. Carmen glanced at her belly, rounder than she remembered it being.

“Guess I have a talent for it,” Carmen said.

“Anyway,” Mary interjected, “Just how did your tits get so big so fast?” Carmen glanced at her, noting the blatant desire in her gaze, and the rising folds of her skirt. She’d almost forgotten that Mary couldn’t use underwear, and now she saw its convenience as her penis swelled into the open.

“Uh, I… it just happened. When th-these,” Ashley cradled her top-most shafts. She moaned at the gentle touch. Soon, the pair rose once more, “No… just let me rest!”

“How sensitive are you?” Mary wondered aloud and sat beside her, taking a breast in hand. Pre-cum dribbled from all three members. Mary smirked and leaned in, placing her lips close to Ashley’s ear, while another hand cradled her thigh, “Guess we’re both freaks now.”

“Sorry,” Ashley said. Lust layered her voice, depriving it of any other emotion.

“Don’t be. Remember when I kissed you?”

“Yeah,” Ashley moaned as the blonde’s lips trailed across her neck, tongue lashing out to catch any fresh drops of semen left behind, smiling at the flavour. The tri-cocked futa panted lightly as she worked, eyes half-glazed over.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Ashley gasped when Mary switched to her untouched breast. Fingers massaged the flesh, squeezing out pre-cum by the ounce, “It… I wanted to talk about it, but Gretchen…”

“It’s okay,” Mary climbed her way to the jaw, then to Ashley’s lips, “How about we make up for lost time?”

Carmen caught Ashley’s eye, causing a violent blush to break through her cum-layered cheeks. Following her gaze, Mary turned and grinned at the honour student. Something about the display grabbed her and refused to let go. She was audience to the exchange without a concern. Would they take it further despite her presence? Perhaps because she had orchestrated it, even if she hadn’t intended to. Or perhaps because she had power here. She’d left her bag, and the book, in the car, yet these two futanari were under her thrall.

Carmen leaned forward. She didn’t want them to continue without her. Desire pooled and overflowed through her veins, stealing the reins of self-control. After everything Ashley had done to her, Carmen deserved to take some joy in her condition.

She trailed her fingers along Ashley’s thigh, ignoring the ‘usual’ cock, and up her stomach. She replaced Mary’s hands and fondled both breasts, squeezing as if to mould them into new shapes, but they were defiant and maintained their massive, teardrop forms. Ashley squirmed under her touch, face red and lips tight. Moans sang from her chest.

She released them to a heavy smack. Carmen traced a vein along each penis, going to the flared, angled heads, from which a steady tide of pre-cum flowed. They leapt and spewed more at her touch. Slime washed away the dried up semen. Her tits rested heavily against her stomach, obscuring over half of the pudgy skin, and jiggled with her pleasure. Carmen licked her lips at the intoxicating, pungent odour.

That moment with Zoey flashed in her mind. She’d made the Amazonian cum, left her a moaning mess, effectively reduced her to a plaything. If Carmen wanted, she could have done anything to her and Zoey would’ve approved of it. Now that same option stared her in the face, more tempting than before. Ashley had an addicts personality, the evidence of it stained everything in sight.

Done right, she would become dependent on Carmen’s touch. Her pleasure. Her very presence.

“Please?” Ashley whispered. Carmen looked up, stunned that she’d gotten so close without noticing. The plump girl stared back, gasping for air, hands curled around her bedsheets and eyes bewildered by lust. Like Zoey, like all futanari that Carmen had made, this person wanted to be used. Loved might be more appropriate, but she would take anything. Even the curious touches Carmen drip fed her.

“What?” Carmen asked. She caught Mary’s eye, a glimmer of her old sadism in her smile, and waited.

“Make me… make me cum.”

“Hmm,” Carmen coiled her fingers loosely around Ashley’s right dick. It pumped off waves of heat, stronger with every pulse. She tightened her grip. Such a different sensation compared to Zoey’s, which had felt soft and lumpy. This was rigid, like iron covered in vines of ivy, all coalescing at the equally solid tip. In other words, it wasn’t human. Just as she’d wanted.

“What? What’re you waiting for? Please, do it,” Ashley said, shivering at the languid stroke, then jerked as Carmen grasped the head. She loosened her grip and Ashley also relaxed. She moved and Ashley shuddered. Like a puppet, Carmen thought. The richest girl in Saint Puella was nothing but a toy now, desperate to please and cum. As she always would be. She looked to Mary again, imploring her with whimpering moans.

“Alright,” Mary said and dove in. Carmen swallowed a gasp as she observed the former slut take the left cock down her throat in one strike. While not huge, no longer than six inches, she seemed heedless of the bulge it made in her throat, or how her eyes watered and smeared her makeup. The sudden burst sent Ashley onto her back, pulling her mostly dry shaft from Carmen’s grip. She shoved a hand between her legs to stroke her human member.

Just like that, all Carmen’s clout had been stolen. The two futanari writhed in place, both as enraptured by their own debauchery as the other. She saw Mary stroking herself as she bobbed her head to and fro. Neither seemed aware of Carmen’s existence anymore.

Until she snatched both their wrists and stilled their masturbation. Mary froze and looked at her, mouth still filled with cock, as did Ashley, “You cum, when I say.” Carmen said. In the back of her mind, she sensed Ryuka’s amusement, despite the Seikogami being absent. She ignored it. For her intentions to work, she needed control.

“But…” Ashley gulped, “Yes, ma’am.” Her arm went lax and fell to her side, leaving her cock to weep pre-cum. Carmen held Mary’s eyes. The blonde didn’t look away or relax, even as her face turned red and purple, until instinct demanded that she pull away.

“Fine,” Mary rasped, clearing her throat of pre-cum and spit, “What now?” Carmen tensed at the question, uncertain of what she intended. She needed to make Ashley submissive to her, a task that seemed complete, but something gnawed at her mind. Hunger, worry, anger… lust? That smell snuck up on her again, interlaced with Mary’s own arousal. Her body burned, blood pumping in her ears and to her crotch. It demanded that she satisfy her cravings.

“Do what you want with her. She did ruin your life, after all. She forced you to do things you didn’t want to. You’re sleeping in a dirty motel room and she’s here living in the lap of luxury.”

“Make her suffer,” Carmen whispered and straddled Ashley’s pudgy gut. She trapped the oversized member under her rear, crushing it against her body. She wouldn’t touch it beyond that. Beneath her, Ashley’s tits poured over her chest and onto the bed. Carmen shoved both together and up, burying their bearer’s face in them.

She, then, curled over until her chin rested on Ashley’s breast and exhaled on a cock. The futa yelped and bucked beneath her. She whimpered as Carmen kissed the crown of a penis, where she waited. Mary took the hint and assumed the same posture, though a glob of drool escaped her lips. Ashley looked between them, begging for either to suck her, even going so far as to arch her torso.

It wasn’t until she stopped that Carmen moved again. She slid her lips down and up the shaft, offering a hint of true pleasure. Ashley arched her back, so she stopped and waited. The cock throbbed against her lips, boiling in its frustration. Its wielder stopped and Carmen resumed, circuiting the shaft and head, then pulled back. She licked her lips, drawing the flavour into her mouth.

Like its feel, the cocks taste intrigued her. Not pleasant by conventional means. It had a spice that invited study, calling her tongue to the source. Carmen swallowed her hesitation and licked the head, as pre-cum sprouted forth. She recoiled at the sudden spurt into her mouth and went to spit it out, but paused. Another curious flavour.

Carmen sought Ashley’s eyes and found them wide, pupils dilated, and locked on her. Under the Futa Note’s power, this must be a dream come true for her. However, she could turn it to a nightmare with a simple act. Carmen swallowed, ignoring how the viscous sludge clung to her throat, and returned to the cock, tormenting Ashley. To her left, Mary eagerly followed suite.

This time, Carmen took her example. No matter the disparity between their intellect, the blonde had more experience, disturbingly so at her age. Mary slid her lips down and over the shaft, cheeks hollow as if sucking a lollipop. As she receded, her tongue weaved subtle patterns, and she made no effort to swallow the copious fluids. Spit and pre cascaded down Ashley’s shaft and spilled between her tits, where Mary’s hands rubbed it in. Despite her skill, Mary didn’t have control.

Perhaps it came from Ryuka’s constant presence, but Carmen sensed that her blonde friend didn’t long for power or to fulfil her own desires. She served. In some ways, she might be more submissive than Ashley. It became clearer as Mary moaned without touching herself, taking delight in having her throat flooded and hearing Ashley’s moans, which rose into sharp yells.

Carmen yanked herself and Mary away.

“No! Don’t stop! I was so close!” Ashley said. She tried bucking her hips and pushing herself up, but Carmen pinned her with ease. Once she had calmed down, Carmen went back to the right cock. She hadn’t taken more than the head into her mouth, held back by uncertainty, but now she forced herself deeper. The rigid spire pressed hard on her tongue and nudged the back of her throat. More of Ashley’s unusual flavour danced on her taste buds and the smell congealed around her. The scent of an animal, Carmen realised. Fitting.

Again, Ashley’s moans signalled her climax and, again, Carmen deprived her of it. Once the sensations dwindled, they resumed. An endless cycle that shortened each time as Ashley became more desperate and sensitive. Her breasts swelled with unspent semen, spilling further onto the bed. Blue veins webbed across the tightening globes, which shone with the mixture of fluids.

If it were someone else, at another time, Carmen might’ve basked in the sight. She could picture Stacy there, trapped under her body, enslaved to desire and loving every second of it. So long as Carmen was there. Lust and anger and regret coiled within the pit of her stomach. She ignored all but her lust, intent on letting her fantasies play. For that was the only way she could see Stacy anymore.

Her body fed on the new emotions. Carmen hid a moan behind a grunt as her nipples and dick pressed against their bonds, caught in a sudden blaze. She pictured Stacy’s massive breasts beneath her, lathered in nothing but Carmen’s pre-cum, lactating entire gallons of milk. She drank it all with greedy gulps, intent on draining the masses. Through it all, she thrust between them.

Each tit dwarfed her member, obscuring it even as she powered toward a climax. Their softness rippled with every thrust, enveloped her shaft, coated it in warmth and love. She imagined laying upon them once more, sinking into their plushness without a care.

“I’m cumming!” Ashley’s cry stole Carmen from her reverie.

She blinked at the scene around her, before noticing the throbbing inside her maw. Mary gagged and went down to the hilt, so Carmen did the same, too caught in the crash of reality to think. Then Ashley came. Beneath Carmen’s rump, the human phallus lurched and spilled its load, soaking her skirt. It lasted mere seconds but soaked everything in range. Once it ended, the other two took up the siege.

The terse flesh of Ashley’s tits rippled and tightened further, then her cocks distended. They swelled from base to head, every inch burned in Carmen’s throat, yet nothing came. When she thought to question her lack of gag-reflex or discomfort, the tide struck. Unlike her ‘normal’ member, Ashley’s nipples weren’t wide enough to unleash the full flood. Instead, cum gathered in the shafts and pressed on the exit until it became too much and the pressure expelled them.

All the heat transferred into Carmen. It pooled in her belly, saturated her oesophagus as she was forced to swallow. When the initial blast dwindled, she pulled away to avoid swallowing more. The tip caught in her throat, hindering her long enough for the second burst. Gouts of seed spilled down her gullet and bubbled from her nose. She gagged on the load, spilling dense ropes from her lips.

Carmen yanked herself away and retched up the last of the cum that coated her throat and nostrils. She cradled her stomach. It felt hot and bloated, depressing further than usual under her fingers. She moved to the side, releasing Ashley and waited for the rest of her climax to unfold.

“Thank you,” Ashley eventually said. Her breasts had shrunk and swallowed her members, leaving only the black areolae and bulbous opening to hint at their existence. And the gallons upon gallons of dried seed that decorated her room.

“It was nothing,” Mary said and patted her own belly. She had stuck through most of the orgasm, taking far more than Carmen had, and sported a slight gut that forced her already skimpy shirt to ride up higher. The two laid side by side, their breasts spilling into each other. Carmen angled her hips away.

“I’m serious,” Ashley said and looked at Carmen, “If you guys didn’t show up, I don’t think I would’ve stopped. I don’t know what you did, Carmen, but thank you. If you need anything at all just tell me.”

“I will,” Carmen smiled. It was as she’d written it to be. That last sentence had been one of her creation, a sign of Ashley’s fealty. She almost laughed at herself. Her entire situation seemed almost medieval, like something straight from a fantasy. Perhaps her family was royalty removed from power by Gretchen, an empress, and everything was for the sake of reclaiming the throne. Regardless of the price she must pay to do so.

“I’ve gotta get home,” Carmen said.

“Maybe get a change of clothes first,” Mary suggested.

“Oh, yeah,” Carmen looked down at herself. Everything but her back was coated in Ashley’s ejaculate. How hadn’t she noticed? Her clothes clung to her body like a second skin, bringing all her curves into stark relief. The two futanari struggled to look away.

“I have some spares in the wardrobe,” Ashley said and got up, “Oh god, it’s been so long since I could stand up!” She stretched and jumped a couple of times. Her tits smacked her belly, eliciting moans each time.

Though shorter than Mary and Carmen, her clothes fit them well enough, “Thanks, Ashley.” Mary said.

“No problem. It’s the least I can do right now.”

“You can do a lot more, though,” Mary said with a suggestive smirk, “Right?”

“Y-yeah. Whatever you want,” Ashley said and found herself embraced by the blonde. Their breasts smothered the other pair, vying for dominance.

“Not gonna lie, I’ve missed you,” Mary said, “Glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” Ashley breathed the word and leaned into Mary, “You know, you’re welcome to stay.”

“Oh, look who grew some balls,” Mary chuckled.

“I’ve got more than you,” Ashley beamed, still drunk on the afterglow.

“I’ll be back soon, just gotta drop Carmen off.”

Carmen didn’t ask what they planned, or if Dakota would mind. Her mind blustered with possibilities. Everything seemed on track again, removing the Futa Note from the equation once more. But the chance of it going wrong nagged at the back of her mind. Then she’d need it once again.

Regardless of how it went, she couldn’t afford to remain ignorant to the book’s abilities. She understood the basics and that it seemed without limitations given Ashley’s new physiology, and the fact she survived without food for several days, but some nuances eluded her. Everything had a peak. How far did it’s power reach? Could one victim affect others in the same way?

She needed to truly test it. Control it. Once she did, then she could resist. The unknown tempts, but knowledge satisfies. Carmen glanced down at herself, over the precipice of her bust. She hadn’t masturbated in months. Her current form was remained an oddity to her. From the heavy breasts, to her seat-swallowing hips and the twin genitals between. Soon, she thought and swore she sensed Ryuka laughing.

It didn’t matter. Ryuka had done enough for her, perhaps it was time to give her some entertainment. After graduation, she decided. To celebrate.

26

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 25 - Graduation

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mary said.

“Yeah, see you.” Carmen watched the car speed away, hastened by Mary’s libido no doubt, and sighed when she looked upon the miserable motel. Compared to Ashley’s home, or any domicile with a modicum of care, it resembled a punishment. How could anyone sleep there? Let alone eat and relax.

On the way to her room, she passed a recently boarded up window. Another room had its door partly destroyed, chips of it lining the cramped walkway. The smell of rot urged her away. Melody couldn’t stay here. A child’s naivete is fragile, they learned faster than most gave them credit for. She had to protect it, at all costs. Otherwise all the time she spent dealing with Gretchen and restraining herself would be wasted.

The mouldy door creaked open at her shove. Her cheeks strained for a smile, but it wasn’t necessary. One foot in the door and her mother accosted her in a breathtaking embrace.

“Carmen! Oh, baby! It’s finally happened!” Alicia wailed, sobbing into her eldest child’s shoulder.

“What happened?” Carmen said, straining to breath and ignore how soft her mother’s chest felt. When released, she saw Alicia’s bloodshot eyes gleaming with her jubilant smile and tears. Across the room, Melody also stared, though she seemed flustered.

“Our lucky break! I got a call from the bank. I thought it was a prank at first, then I went and checked and… and look!” From her purse, Alicia produced a roll of fifty dollar bills. Her eyes studied it, as if disbelieving that she held so much money, then put it away, “And that’s barely a fraction of it. We’re rich, sweetheart!”

Carmen suddenly felt the Futa Note’s weight in her bag. Or perhaps that was Ryuka leaning on her shoulder, giggling at the older woman’s glee. Without either, this wouldn’t be possible. When was the last time her mother smiled like this? Alicia flopped onto a bed and just laughed, relaxed for the first time in years. Finally, no job to rush to or desperate need for sleep. All her woes had vanished. Gone, as if by magic.

Because of the Futa Note. Because Carmen transformed a wealthy girl into some triple-cocked freak that had a possible addiction to orgasms, and who, at that moment, was likely with Mary continuing where they left off. Unsanctioned jealousy swirled in her chest, a dark cloud that quivered against the brightness of her reprieve.

“That’s great,” Carmen lunged for Melody and kissed her forehead, “No more tatty clothes for you, Supergirl.”

“Really?”

“Yep. We’re gonna turn you into a princess.”

“Ugh,” Melody crinkled her nose.

“Oh?” Carmen chuckled, “What about a superhero then? Tight spandex and a cape and all that stuff.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” Carmen said, “Supergirl needs a proper costume after all.” In the back of her mind, another thought emerged. Her sister wanted to be a superhero, someone strong and beloved by all, and she could have it. Just a few sentences. She held it back, strangled by chains of her self-restraint. They creaked from the strain though, having loosened in the past months of abuse.

“I’ve got some design ideas then,” Melody said and rummaged through her school bag, pulling out a tortured sketchbook. The cover had been torn in several places, and the pages seemed flaky, like they’d been doused in water and left to dry. Melody ignored that and went to the back, where she had several crude sketches of herself and Carmen.

“Wow, I get to be your sidekick?” Carmen said, biting back her mortified laughter at how large Melody drew her chest.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. You get some cool tricks and stuff too. Just not as cool as mine.”

“How generous,” Carmen said dryly.

“I thought so,” Melody grinned.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Alicia, once she recovered from the shock of it all, was on the phone to a hotel. One with ample storage. They moved there the same evening, and had a decent meal, their first one in a restaurant since Carmen’s father passed. Melody went to bed warm and happy, mumbling in her sleep about all the things she had planned.

Carmen stayed with Alicia, corralled into her celebration.

“Just a bit then,” Carmen sighed. Her mother could be persuasive, and persistent, as such she took the glass of red wine. Not the cheap stuff either. She sniffed at it as she’d seen people do in film, then took a quick sip, “Oh god, that’s bitter.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Alicia giggled, already on her second glass since returning from dinner. The alcohol had worked its way into her system, turning her cheeks a rosy tone.

“Don’t think I want to,” Carmen said but took another sip for good measure. It burned her throat, making her crave another drink.

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” Alicia said, looking around the spacious room. Even occupied by three beds, a nightstand between them, and the unnecessarily large tv, they had plenty of room. And things could only get better from there.

Clothes and school supplies were the tip. Soon they’d have a house, somewhere to call home without a hint of sarcasm or fear that it would collapse on them. A room and bed for each of them, somewhere to be alone and relax. Even a garden. Alicia had said she liked raising plants. What little excess she could once afford had been spent on trying to liven the apartment up with flowers, but rats got to them before they could even bloom. Not anymore.

“Me neither,” Carmen said and had another sip. The taste still revolted her, but the heat was welcome. It seemed to flow from her mouth throughout her body, soothing all her muscles. She sank into the pillows on her bed. Had she really been so tense?

“We could buy a house,” Alicia said.

“Yep.”

“And a car. Oh, I really want a car. Buses and trains are nightmares.”

“Can’t stand them.”

“You and Melody can finally have some proper clothes. And toys! She hasn’t had a proper toy since she was tiny. Phones too.”

“Don’t spoil her. Last thing we want is Melody to grow up as a snob.”

“Hell no,” Alicia giggled and poured herself another glass. She raised a brow to Carmen, who realised her own drink had gone. The honour student shrugged and let her mother fill it.

“Still, we should get her into a better school. That place is horrible.”

“Agreed.” Melody’s school, while not dilapidated or haemorrhaging money like Saint Puella’s, had a reputation for being unsavoury to say the least. Her sketchbook was proof enough that she was bullied there.

“And you too. Won’t have to deal with that ridiculous prep year.”

“Um, no. That’s fine.”

Alicia frowned, “Honey, that place is awful.”

“Yeah, but… I’ve got friends there. And it’s not like I need to rush into college now or anything.”

“Alright. If you say so,” Alicia said, though she sounded unconvinced, then yawned, “I’m turning in for the night.”

“I’m gonna have a bath first.”

“Sure. Good night, sweetheart.” And like that, her mother was passed out. Carmen shook her head at the woman and pulled the covers over her sleeping form, then parted with a grateful kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, mum.”

Of all the things being poor had robbed from her, Carmen hadn’t expected to miss a proper bath as much as she did. She sank into the clear water, disturbed only by the suds and swirls of nutrient oils. It caressed her skin rather than clung and seemed to ripple with her movements, always staying in sync with her. A sigh slipped out at the sensation of it against her breasts.

“You seem happy,” Ryuka said.

“I’ve missed this,” Carmen said and raised a leg, smooth as the marble tiling along the walls. She hadn’t needed to shave since finding the Futa Note, one of the few welcome changes, “Warm, clean water. And bubbles! It’s the simple things that make life worthwhile.”

“Hmm, let me see.” Ryuka released whatever power that kept her afloat, splashing into the water, “Oh, that is nice.” She reclined into the water, kicking up her legs on either side.

Carmen gulped. The tub was large, two people could fit with ease if they didn’t mind touching, which meant her leg came into direct contact with Ryuka’s penis. Her eyes wondered over the Seikogami again, willing the bubbles from her sight to bask in the pale splendour. With skin like a fine cream, Ryuka’s midnight wings, and scarlet eyes and lips stood out all the more vibrantly. This was an immortal creature, with a beauty humans had strived for since the dark ages, and she’d turned Carmen’s life into torment. Yet also brought her to this point years ahead of schedule.

“Thank you,” Carmen said.

“For what?” Ryuka sank deeper into the water. Her breasts floated on the surface, so huge but buoyant and tempting.

“For the Futa Note.”

“I thought it ruined your life.”

Carmen shook her head. The water seemed hot now, or was that Ryuka’s heat. It couldn’t be her own, “I mean, it’s messed up all my plans and made me into this, but… I never thought I’d get here until I was, like, twenty-five or something. Let alone with my whole family. And did you see my mum? I haven’t seen her smile like that in years. So, yes. The book ruined my life, but we wouldn’t be here without it. Or you.”

“Thanks.” For once, the deity looked uncomfortable. She didn’t blush, perhaps because she was incapable of it, but she’d never looked more… appealing. Carmen pushed through the water until she all but straddled Ryuka. Their genitals touched, the same yet exact opposites to each other, earning a soft gasp from Carmen. She cupped the Seikogami’s cheeks, captivated for a moment by how soft they were in her hands, and leaned in. Their lips met for the briefest moment, a spark of desire crackled within her, before Carmen realised what she’d done.

“I’m leaving.”

Ryuka didn’t follow, merely looked to the empty doorway and touched her lips. “So interesting.”

Entire continents separated yesterday and waking up the next morning. The motel had been a frozen tundra, desolate and inhospitable, fraught with danger at every corner. And now she experienced a gorgeous sunrise on a field of daisies and daffodils, punctuated by the sheen of a gorgeous goddess. Carmen ran a hand through her hair, hoping to swipe away such thoughts.

She let the strands flow around her fingers. Darker than it had ever been, but cleaner, fuller and stronger too. Though slight, the similarities between herself and Ryuka grew everyday. There are far worse fates, Carmen thought with a glance to the dozing god. Her lips drew her gaze, kindling the memory of yesterday night. That was a mistake, spurred by Alicia’s wine.

“I can’t lose control, even now,” Carmen murmured and went to use the toilet, careful not to rouse Melody. That girl deserved to sleep in luxury for a lifetime.

She coasted by on days of extravagance. Everyday, she went to slept and woke in a luscious bed, bathed with clean water, and went clothes shopping for the first time. Melody’s excitement was intoxicating, even dilated by a memory. But it wasn’t extravagant. Beyond the hotel, everything was as it should’ve been. After so long, they ate good food, she and Melody had clothes to call their own, without holes or the reek of previous owners.

School fell to wayside. She didn’t pay attention to the shift in murmurs around her, discussing the massive improvement to her wardrobe, or how Ashley had returned with an opposite change. The former millionaire, once clad in designer shirts and sweaters, now walked through with a simple tee that hugged her plump figure. Bold move, considering her oddities. Over the weeks, she adopted a darker aesthetic. Dark eye liner and lipstick, with matching tights that rose beneath her skirt. At times, Carmen noticed a bulge in them.

Neither Dakota or Zoey argued her being around them. Carmen had forgiven her and that was enough, especially after they heard what she’d done for the Robins’ family. It’s strange, the honour student thought one day at lunch, looking around at the people sat with her. Each of them had wronged her in one way or another, some more than others. She’d gotten them back of course, which was why they sat with her, talked to her, and trusted her.

But they didn’t know what she’d done. What they did to her ranged from mere inconvenience to outright malicious, yet she’d turned them all into futanari and made them attracted to her, removing their social status in the process. Would they still like her if they knew? Carmen didn’t want to find out.

Why? If they knew that she was somehow responsible for their new genders, what could they do. Spread the word perhaps, but no one would believe them. They’d end up separate from everyone, Carmen included, and suffer for it. The Futa Note made them attracted to her, they all longed for her. She saw it day after day in their glances, or inconspicuous flirting, how they wished she was theirs. They’d never leave her.

A smile escaped at the thought. She’d spent every year of high school friendless without complaint, and now she didn’t want to to lose them. Nothing made them that different to any other person she’d met. Dakota was nice, athletic and that slight twinge of German in her voice. Mary had the greatest breasts that Carmen had seen. Zoey towered over them all with muscles to match. Then there was Ashley, plump and soft and eager to please.

“I’d wager they all tick a little fetish for you,” Ryuka said on the way back to the hotel, “Well, except Mary. Big tits are absolutely your kink.”

“Shut up,” Carmen said, but couldn’t stop a grin. Denying the fact was futile, given how much she’d adored Stacy’s chest. Her smile fell.

“Sorry,” Ryuka said.

“For what? You didn’t say anything wrong.”

“God, you humans are an enigma,” Ryuka rubbed her head, “You got all mopey suddenly, so I thought it was my fault.”

“No, just thinking about Stacy. Can’t you read my mind anyway?”

“Not when you start blocking it,” Ryuka shrugged.

“Good to know.”

“Why don’t you try calling her? I’m sure she wants to see you.”

“I can’t,” Carmen said and glanced down the route she’d normally take to Soothe the Soul. It was likely a development sight by then, devoid of the cosiness she’d come to appreciate and long for, “I bet there’s some stupid contract that means she can’t interact with me or something. Besides, I was just an employee. She’ll move on.”

“Okay, stop. You’re gonna make me depressed.”

“Can Seikogami even get depressed?” Carmen asked.

“We’re gonna find out at this rate. So, tell me when you’re going to indulge yourself,” Ryuka said, leering at her.

“You really think I’ll tell you?”

“Come on, I know all the best techniques. With me coaching, you’ll be cumming buckets in no time.”

“I’m not telling you,” Carmen shook her head, smiling at her godly companion, “But if I suck at it, then I’ll let you know.”

“Sucking? Oh, that’s perfect. Best of both worlds. You get a blowjob, and you give a blowjob. Win-win.”

“Stop.”

“Fine…”

Back in the hotel, she found her mother jiggling a key and grinning ear to ear. Melody was already there, slamming her new clothes and toys into a suitcase.

“We’ve got a house!” Alicia announced, “Oh, it’s lovely. Smack in the middle of suburbia. Stable walls, an honest to god kitchen, rooms for everyone and a guest room to boot, and it’s just a short drive from your schools. Which reminds me, we need to get you lessons. And a car. Oh! Something nice and cosy would be perfect. Although, maybe not.”

“Calm down, Mum,” Carmen chuckled and inspected her own garments. She’d expected this and had kept her belongings in neat piles for easy packing, “We’ve got plenty of time for all that.” She frowned at a bra, bought at the insistence of her mother. Seeing its size compared to that of Alicia’s made it clear how endowed Carmen had become, yet something made it feel incompetent. A sigh slipped out at the thought of further growth.

Not that anyone seemed bothered by it. The fact she grew several cup sizes in just a few months should be cause for concern, and leave her with stretch marks, yet no such issue arose. More meddling from the book. It hadn’t changed memories, none that Carmen could discern, otherwise Alicia should know about her penis.

“Sorry, it’s just so exciting. We haven’t had a house since your father passed,” Alicia said, joining Carmen on a bed, smiling at a memory, “He’d be proud, you know? Of you and Melody. I know it hasn’t been easy, but you got through it.”

“Don’t count yourself out,” Carmen leaned into her mother’s shoulder, “We never would’ve survived without you.”

“True, true. Either way, it’s in the past now. The future’s wide open for us now.”

“Yeah,” Carmen glanced at Ryuka, wondering how long it might take before temptation got the better of her as it almost had just a short while ago, or before she wound up resembling the deity. She shook the thoughts off. Before she could worry about that, the Futa Note had secrets she needed to discover. Or at least nuances she wanted control over. Summer provided a great chance for that.

First, she had ‘graduation’ to attend. Like the school itself, the ceremony was drab, greys on grey amidst a sea of disgruntled students. Principal Blake had instituted a fee for any graduate that didn’t attend the prep year, many of the girls’ families didn’t have money to spare, and so few pupils were absent. Carmen sat in a row of her friends, waiting for the mockery to end.

“Can’t believe this shit,” Mary grumbled, tugging at the cheap gown they’d been provided. It was second-hand from another school, and still bore the emblem. Most had mismatched sizes, which somehow found their way into the worst matches. Zoey’s was too small, or perhaps she was too tall, and failed to reach beyond her knees.

Mary had a similar issue in her chest, which bulged through like she’d stuffed a pair of balloons into the gown. The constriction kept them from finding a proper shape, and squeezed them through the neck. Likewise, her hips pulled the lower half flush against her skin. It rode up her thigh to reveal a glimpse of flesh at every opportunity. A slight reprieve from the burn in her most of her skin.

“Do you just have to be half-naked all the time?” Dakota asked.

“Yes!” Mary hissed, “Don’t know what it is, but I break out in hives if I cover too much. How much fucking longer?”

“I’ve got some cream if that’ll help?” Ashley offered. Her gown fit well, tantalisingly snug around her curves, but loose enough that her erection wouldn’t give her away. No one else knew what she hid, and she was eager to keep it that way.

“No, ugh, just… fuck it,” Mary hooked her fingers into the fabric and strained. Cheap polyester and cotton split open down her front, revealing a fountain of cleavage, “Oh, god that’s better.” She did the same for her legs, leaving just enough not to bare her phallus to everyone.

“Oh, fuck,” Ashley whispered, enraptured by the display.

“Shameless as always,” Zoey said, with a playful shake of her head, then fell into quiet. She’d been doing so more often recently, as if distracted by something. Her eyes went to the opposite columns, where family members were sat. Carmen followed the direction and saw someone that resembled Zoey, slightly older, though she lacked the same physicality. A wink passed between the sisters.

Carmen withheld her words. If Zoey wanted to talk about it, then she would. She wasn’t that meek girl like before, and she hadn’t shrunk for weeks. A faint groan wrested Carmen’s attention back to Ashley, who had a hand clenched tight in her gown, while the other circled a breast in slow, building motions. Each cycle made the cloth bulge further, stretching it until every wrinkle was smooth.

Teachers were still absent and likely would be for several minutes to come. While a memorable graduation, farce or not, would be welcome in such a shoddy ceremony, she doubted Ashley revealing herself as a futa was the way to do that. Carmen wondered how the girl had held out for as long as she had, even if she only came once every day. Over two weeks and Ashley hadn’t returned to that cum-addicted state. Impressive.

But it was taking a toll. Ashley’s plump cheeks burned, stark against the pale skin and dark lips, and her mouth opened in lingering gasps. If left unchecked, her orgasm was imminent. Carmen bit her lip and glanced around, then took Ashley’s hand, leading her from the atrium.

“What?” Ashley said once they were in a secluded hallway. The brief walk took its toll, rubbing her hardening body parts against her thighs and clothes. Carmen glimpsed them and forced the surge of heat back down. This was for Ashley, the least she could do after taking the girl’s wealth and sexuality. However, the sense of anticipation wouldn’t be quelled.

The gothic style suited Ashley. She’d dyed her hair an oil black and used a thicker eye liner as well. Beneath her gown, she wore a sheer blouse that bore several inches of cleavage, and no bra. The amount of jiggle on her chest made no secret of that.

“How bad is it?” Carmen asked when she forced her eyes away. Her own member stirred in her panties.

“How bad is… oh, it’s fine,” Ashley said, though she squeaked as her trio lurched forward, “Or maybe not. To be honest, hmm, I’ve been struggling to sleep lately.”

“It’s not good to keep yourself backed up. You’ll end up like you did before,” Carmen said. She’d tweaked Ashley’s entry as a small test, stretching the length of time she could go without cumming before it became troublesome, “When was the last time you, uh…”

“Um, two days I think? It’s Friday now, and that was Wednesday, so yeah. Two days.” Perhaps another hour and she’d be left helpless, erect and incapable of cumming without excessive masturbation. Or Carmen’s helping hand. Even in the seconds they’d stood there, Ashley’s breasts had swollen with backed up semen. Too much more and she’d lose sensitivity and start leaking.

“Okay, okay…” Carmen looked to her new watch. They had five, maybe ten minutes until the ceremony started. At her stage, Ashley might end up cumming several times if she did it herself, and she doubted the futa wanted Gretchen spreading more rumours. Everyone already believed that Ashley was gay, as was the norm among her friends. Too long, however, and people would start talking about Carmen. She couldn’t bear it if that was how her mother found out.

“Let’s make this quick,” Carmen said and yanked up Ashley’s gown. As if signalled, the plump girl’s cock leapt from beneath the skirt, “Shit…” she’d forgotten how big it was. Not the size of Zoey’s, but fatter, lined by angry veins and capped by a smaller head. She couldn’t fit a hand around its middle, even two were forced to stretch. A twinge of fear almost pulled her back. She hadn’t meant to touch it, let alone stroke or squeeze it.

Ashley sighed at her touch, leaning into the wall and undulating her hips. Her gasps turned to pleasure, building with every lap of Carmen’s hands until she was moaning.

“More. Please, Carmen?” Ashley blushed and pulled her gown higher, revealing her straining top. She pulled the front down and shuddered at the slap of her freed tits, upon which two stout cocks jutted forth. Milky pre-cum already leaked from them. Without them, Carmen wouldn’t hesitate. Even so, she struggled not to latch on the instant she saw them.

One hand abandoned the prime member and groped a breast. They gave under her ministrations, firming as she satiated one of her favourite pastimes. She and Stacy had cuddled in her office on several occasions, just feeling each other’s breasts. Carmen’s throat went dry. It always ended with her suckling from Stacy, syphoning the pent up milk into her clamouring gut. She missed the feeling of a warm teat spurting in her mouth.

Like before, she didn’t realise she’d moved until it happened. Ashley mewled above her, hands on her face as if in disbelief of what she saw. And what she saw was Carmen, bowed over to reach her breast, lips puckered and cheeks convex as she suckled a dick-nipple. She switched hands to grope the other boob, stimulating all three of Ashley’s cocks.

“Fuck, oh god! It never, ah!” Ashley clapped a hand over her mouth at the sound of footsteps, yet her chest rumbled with moans and squeaks escaped. Carmen didn’t stop, glugging down pre-cum that tasted of milk. The steps came closer.

Cum, cum, cum, cum. Carmen urged in her head, glancing to either side in case the stranger appeared. Power sparked in her gut and raced through her body, to her hands and lips. A moment later and Ashley’s moans stopped. Her eyes rolled and drool oozed down her chin and over her hands. Tremors ran through her cocks. The veins bloated and throbbed. A lurid gurgle echoed between Ashley’s tits and balls.

“Cumming…” Ashley whispered, before her hands fell away and she prepared to scream her bliss for all to hear. The person was too close. They’d hear. Carmen popped free and claimed Ashley’s lips, willing the girl not to scream. It worked somehow. Ashley’s throat strained and her cocks all unleashed jets of cum across the floor, yet not a single cry escaped her. She gargled instead, tongue moving as if to speak, but nothing came.

Carmen ignored each spurt of semen on her gown, too worried about being discovered to care for the moment. As the climax dwindled, Ashley’s mind returned and she started kissing her. On reflex, for it had to be, Carmen reciprocated. She fell into the moment, almost feeding off Ashley’s afterglow through the kiss. The footsteps faded away.

“We’re clear,” Carmen said when she separated.

“Y-yeah,” Ashley panted, her face redder than before. Sweat had formed along her scalp and dripped between her breasts. Carmen averted her gaze.

“You should go clean up. There’s still about five minutes left… five minutes?” Carmen had intended for it to be quick, but she hadn’t realised how fast she could make Ashley cum. She dared a glance, wondering if she could do so again. Just one orgasm had put Ashley wholly under her power, what would two or three do?

“Uh huh,” Ashley nodded and put her clothes back into place, though they looked lopsided it would suffice for now. Once she was out of sight, Carmen looked to her own problem.

“Dammit, everyone will know.”

“I can help there,” Ryuka said, eliciting a sharp yelp, “I wasn’t watching, honest.”

Carmen thinned her eyes, “You were in my head, weren’t you?”

The deity shrugged, “Maybe. You’ll never know.” I totally was though. The thought came through clearly, as if Ryuka had said the words into Carmen’s ear. Oh man, that was great. Shame she didn’t go further, like deepthroating the big one, or gobbling up the two nipples, ooh that’d be… Carmen shut out the words and focused on her predicament.

Kissing Ashley had been a mistake, as it put her body in the direct path of her seed. The fabric didn’t absorb moisture well and left thick streaks of white, all oozing down her form and leaving gross trails in their wake.

“What’s your plan?” Carmen asked, ignoring what she’d heard.

“Simple, I can make all that disappear with a snap of my fingers, but…” She paused, waiting for a prompt that never came, “You’re no fun. But you’ve gotta do something for me.”

“I’ll get you some oranges, don’t worry.”

“No, no, I had a sack of those before I got here. I want you to use the damn book at least one more time.”

“Fine,” Carmen said.

Ryuka blinked at the fast response, “Uh, well… alright then.” She snapped her fingers and every trace of cum was gone, even the odour, “Go on. Do it.”

Carmen shook her head at the Seikogami, heading back to the gym, “You really should work on your bargaining skills. You never said when I’d have to use it. I could wait until I’m old and grey.”

“Damn you,” Ryuka said.

“But I’m not that cruel,” Carmen said through their link as she returned to her seat. A minute later and Ashley followed suite, “I don’t want to be afraid of it, so I’m gonna understand it. The more I know, the less I have to worry about.”

“Oh? Who’re you gonna use it on? Gretchen? The principal? Maybe your friends again?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll see.”

“Can’t wait.”

27

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 26 - Darkening Temptations

It finally stopped. Carmen leaned into the shower spray, glad to feel something clean as she panted, hand still wrapped around her shaft. Not far away, Ryuka snickered. She couldn’t see past the curtain, but that didn’t stop her from peering into Carmen’s mind, and seeing the last drop of white fall from her penis. Obscured, her snatch dripped with its own orgasm. How many did that make?

“Five since you woke up,” Ryuka said.

“Don’t… please don’t answer my thoughts,” Carmen sighed. A month ago and she could keep her thoughts hidden, but it got harder everyday until the link seemed permanently open. Ryuka’s limitless libido dripped into her mind. Day and night. Now she woke every morning, terrified that her mother or Melody would walk in and see her morning wood. Even thinking of such a thing seemed wrong, yet she liked it.

She liked the feeling of stroking herself until pleasure erupted in the form of white steaks across the bathroom floor. Or over her bed. Or carpet. Or herself. She liked the smell it left behind. She savoured the sensations that lingered each time. No amount of willpower or self-loathing surmounted that pleasure. Though it left her hollow.

Carmen refocused on her actual goal of showering. Soap poured down her body, following the strict arches and dips in her figure, before plummeting to the sullied floor below. Sharp citrus tones washed away the stench of semen, as it had done the past two weeks. It was inevitable that she masturbated in the shower. One look in the mirror or down at herself and she was helpless.

“I’m such a narcissist now,” Carmen said when she stepped out, not bothering with a towel while she traced her outrageous, yet comparatively petite form. Ryuka hovered behind her, smirking like an approving teacher or angel. She almost laughed at the idea. This creature was no angel, fallen or otherwise.

“Is that a bad thing? Humans always have problems with self-love,” Ryuka said.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t get turned on just by looking at myself.” A twinge brought Carmen’s attention to her member, spent but willing if she gave it the chance. For a ‘normal’ member, it had grown impressively masculine. Fat and veiny, with a darker tone to the rest of her, and heavy upon her testicles, it stood at harmonic dissonance to the rest of her.

“I do all the time,” Ryuka said.

“Exactly,” Carmen sighed and pulled a towel around herself. Loosely. Seeing her breasts bulging over anything, be it clothes or hands, was a death trap. A frequent one. Whatever magic the book wreaked on her life, it changed her wardrobe to match, but barely. Her shirts clung to her torso like paint at best, those that didn’t bit into, and highlighted, her abundance of flesh. The hips were no better.

She ran a brush through her hair. It reached the small of her back when loose, smooth as silk, and teetered on black. Sunlight brought the faint brunette that remained. For how much longer? Carmen let some locks fall through her fingers. Not a strand fell out.

“Gonna complain about the hair now?” Ryuka asked.

“No. I appreciate this much. But do I really need, what is it now, I-cup breasts?”

“Haha, you cup boobs.”

Carmen rolled her eyes, “And these jeans are… Jesus I can’t be that big. Am I?” She checked her hips again, grimacing at how they threatened to overtake her shoulders, “Maybe I should cut back on the snacks?”

“No, darling. You look great,” Ryuka said, coming to envelop her in a soft embrace. Strangely, that had become their relationship of late. Sometimes, she caught her mother’s worrying glances at her breasts and knew she thought they were too big. Melody even made fun of them, but made up for it with a firm hug. Random strangers gawked at her on the street, and her friends all adored her. Only Ryuka treated her the same as ever.

“I feel fat,” Carmen groaned and pinched the softness of her ass, “See? No muscle at all.”

“You know,” Ryuka said, her voice layered in seduction, “You could always use the book and fix all that.”

“I’m not using it on myself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuka sighed, “Didn’t you say that you wanted to test it out? It’s been ages since then.”

“Only a month.”

“Only a month?! Oh god, I’m gonna turn to dust before you use it again.”

“Can you even die? You’re some sort of god after all.”

“All things end. Be it this minute, or next millennium. For all you or I know, I could vanish without a trace in five… four… three… two… one…” The Seikogami exaggerated choking and plummeted to the ground, twitching and retching.

“Tell you what,” Carmen said and retrieved the Futa Note from her desk, “I’ll take it with me. If the urge strikes, I’ll use it.”

Ryuka’s hand peeked over with her thumb up, “Good enough!”

A short bus ride later and Carmen was reunited with her friends outside the nearest mall. Not much had changed since ‘graduation’. Mary’s breasts had bloated to take the title of biggest among them, though Zoey and Ashley stayed hot on her tail. Zoey had risen a few inches, her musculature more defined, as was the bulge in her pants, and Ashley looked fine after yesterdays session. As always, Dakota remained unchanged beyond the mundane.

“So, where’re we going?” Carmen asked.

“Clothes shopping!” Mary declared and marched to her, casting a disapproving glare over her body, “You really need to upgrade.”

“Why?” Carmen looked as well but found nothing wrong. None of her clothes were second-hand anymore. No holes or stains or mismatched sizes. Even if she bought something larger, the Futa Note changed it. Almost like the book enjoyed seeing her trapped in tight outfits. Unless Ryuka was responsible.

Mary arched an eyebrow and looked at the rest, “Is she serious? Carmen, baby, you’re rich! You can wear nicer shit than this.”

“It’s not really my thing.”

“No, but it’s mine,” Mary smirked, “We’re going to play dress-up with our favourite girl today.”

“Do I get a say?”

“You just did,” Dakota grinned, “I’ll reign her in, don’t worry.”

“Good. Then let’s fucking go,” Mary said and headed straight inside. The others lingered and shook their heads, shrugged, then followed. Despite Mary strong-arming her into the trip, Carmen appreciated being around them all again. She met Ashley every week to keep her from overloading, which she realised didn’t help her own libido, but it’d been weeks since she saw the others.

“How’s your summer so far?” Dakota asked.

“Busy. I’m helping find Melody a new school, settling in a new home, and keeping up with studies. Haven’t really had a chance to enjoy myself,” Carmen lied. She felt like she’d done nothing but enjoy herself.

“You really need to relax. Take me for example,” Dakota cleared her throat, “I’ve been exploring the vast seas, discovering things man never knew of and…”

“You’ve just been playing video games,” Zoey cut in, smirking.

“Yeah,” Dakota deflated, then looked to Ashley, “How are you doing anyway? Must be weird not being the rich girl anymore.”

“Actually, I like it,” Ashley said, “My parents and I are going camping next week. Well, we’re renting an RV, but close enough I guess. And mum’s getting better at cooking too.”

“Hey Zoey.”

Carmen followed the Amazon’s gaze around to find Rachel strolling behind. Suspicion pulled her muscles taut. She looked around for Gretchen, certain she couldn’t be far.

“Rachel? Uh, what’re you doing here?” Zoey asked.

“Visiting my sister at work. What about you?” Rachel’s eyes diverted from Zoey to Carmen, fixed upon her like cat watching its prey, “Bet it’s something interesting.”

“Just some shopping,” Carmen answered.

“Where’s Gretchen?” Ashley asked. She drew back behind Carmen, watching for a sign of the contemptuous blonde.

“Dunno, don’t care,” Rachel still kept her gaze on Carmen. It wasn’t the look of a predator, Carmen thought, more observant. Was she waiting for something? “I’ll see you later, Zoey.”

“Yeah, sure,” Zoey waved goodbye. The redhead soon vacated the mall.

“What was that about?” Dakota wondered. Carmen shrugged and continued after Mary, though she couldn’t ignore the look in Rachel’s eye. It was familiar. Expectation? Anxiety? Both? But she had no reason to feel either. Unless she suspected something. Carmen gripped the strap of her bag and pulled it closer.

“Hurry up!” Mary called from a clothes store, snapping Carmen from her thoughts.

They skipped over the normal, cheap outfits and headed straight for the expensive section. Silk and velvet met more traditional fabrics in a cordoned off room, dozens of garments hung or folded on hooks and shelves, crowded around as if to outdo each other. A lone changing room hid amongst dresses. Familiar items were stashed away in a corner. Carmen recognised them from Gretchen. She glanced at Ashley, who seemed at ease amongst the financial hell. Mary wasted no time in sorting through her choices.

Only Zoey seemed uncomfortable, so Carmen retreated back to her. The other three convened over various shirts and dresses in hushed whispers, each arguing for something they held. They somehow agreed on one and put the others back, then it began anew, cycling from one choice to the next. Dread filled Carmen as more were added.

“I’m just gonna slip out,” Carmen whispered, backing out through the curtain.

“They won’t notice until they’re done. I’ll text you when it’s time,” Zoey said and moved to conceal her exit.

“You make it sound like I don’t have a choice.”

“You really don’t,” Zoey said with an apologetic smile. One foot outside and Carmen relaxed, gulping down grateful breaths untainted by the designer scents and crushing weight. She strolled down an aisle of hoodies and long-sleeved shirts, wondering which, if any, would mask her ever swelling figure. She wore the largest top she owned outside of winter attire, yet it struggled not to float around her waist. A cute shirt caught her eye, one Melody would like. The outing wasn’t a total waste.

“Carmen?” Someone gasped her name. The voice was so familiar. She turned, expecting an acquaintance or one of her friends, and caught their frantic retreat, then rushed over to see who it was. Regret twisted inside her chest, coiling and choking her.

She didn’t turn or speak, just stood at a counter, nervously tapping a foot as she paid. Chocolate curls rolled down her back and over her shoulders, flicking off breasts so voluptuous that Carmen saw them from behind. As she shifted weight, her indulgent ass cheeks rose and fell. Her shirt lifted, revealing that her jeans didn’t reach very far. Fat rounded her thighs and calves. Please don’t be her, Carmen thought.

But it was. As the woman turned, Carmen saw the faint dampness on her breasts. Any other time, on anyone else, she might’ve struggled with her arousal. Not here. Carmen knew her and that fact shredded any semblance of lust. She felt cold, frozen half-hidden behind a rack of clothes, while Stacy hurried out. Her curves jiggled and rolled with her hasty movements, making her look clumsy. Just as they always had when she rushed from back to front at the shop.

Carmen’s phone summoned her attention. When she looked up, Stacy was gone. She could make her turn around and come back, hug her, kiss her, tell her how sorry she was for not calling and that they’d be together again. Another text. ‘Ashley picked out something really cute. Hurry back.’ Ashley. Anger replaced sorrow. After what she’d done, she didn’t deserve to be with them, having fun and… Carmen took a breath and turned around. Getting mad wouldn’t change a thing. Not like Stacy would want her now that she had a cock.

“Are you doing okay?” Dakota asked once she returned.

“Yeah, fine. Why?” Carmen said.

“You look down. Did something happen?”

“No. What did you guys pick out anyway?” Carmen asked, fixing her gaze on the hideous stack of clothes, “Half the store?”

“Please, I wanted more, but they convinced me not to,” Mary said and handed her the top, “I picked it out. I guarantee it’ll bring out your tits.”

“Not like she needs it,” Ashley added.

“Yeah, but you’ve gotta own them. Big boobs are amazing if you do right by them,” Mary hefted her monumental bust for emphasis. Close to a foot of cleavage blossomed from her top, the Futa Note keeping her from showing anything but. Stacy’s are bigger, Carmen thought. She went into the changing room, using the door as a shield. A mirror, bench and pile of clothes accompanied her.

She sat down, running hands through her hair. The clothes meant nothing. Her reflection might as well have been a plank. Harsh breaths filled her chest, strained her bra, and settled her rampant heart, but not her emotions. Every other thought opened another wound, ones she’d hoped were scarred over. The first time she met Stacy, their gradual flirting, their kiss, the first time they made love. Everything hurt.

That didn’t give her the right to bring down the mood. Carmen took a final deep breath, pinched herself to stop the tears from coming, and stripped. Nothing Mary or the others picked out worked, in her opinion, but she found a couple that seemed acceptable. They didn’t make her look like a cheating trophy wife, or some high school slut at least. Back in her plain clothes, Carmen pulled her lips into an exhausted smile, and went back out.

“I knew you’d like some of them,” Mary said, beaming from ear to ear.

“Two out of a hundred,” Carmen groaned.

“Sorry, I thought you’d like more,” Ashley said.

“It’s okay,” Carmen said. Anger flashed once more, but faded just as fast. It was Gretchen’s fault. Or was it Rachel’s? The way she had looked at Carmen, expecting something to happen, made sense if she thought of it that way. But that didn’t explain why she looked almost worried by it. Even at her worst, Carmen wouldn’t assault someone in public.

“Come on, let’s pay and get some lunch. I know an awesome diner upstairs,” Dakota said.

Heartbreakingly welcoming. That was how the diner felt. Warm colours and a row of leather-lined booths, its air saturated with the smell of simple meals, coffee and confections, all held together by a team of young servers. Better equipment and staffing aside, it reminded Carmen of Soothe the Soul. Even one of the waitresses was overweight in a cute way. Her hair was a brilliant red at least, and she didn’t hold a candle to Stacy elsewhere.

“Hi, I’m Leah and I’ll be your waitress,” the chubby server said, assigning them a booth.

Zoey sat on the outside next to Carmen, so tall that she could lean back over the dividers, while the other three sat opposite. Ashley and Mary sat either side of Dakota, their chests either knocking salt shakers or squishing against the table, and earned jealous glances from her and other customers. Resting her own ponderous bust on the table, Carmen wondered what people thought of them. Anyone could assume they were the product of wealth and plastic surgery. Yet it was never long before someone made it clear that they were natural.

“What can I get you to drink?” Leah asked, retrieving a notepad from her pencil skirt. Old fashioned, but it suited the diner, and the blouse did wonders for Leah’s chest. She shifted her weight and the mounds jiggled, unrestricted despite their heft. She leaned against the divider between booths, squishing her breast into an arm, as if sustaining her own weight was too much effort.

“Don’t you have a bra?” Carmen asked.

“Oh, noticed that did you?” Leah giggled, “I do, but they’re so uncomfortable. Besides, no one complains. Until now.”

“Who said she was complaining?” Zoey said, though her focus was on the menu. Her shoulders were rigid, back straight and legs tight together. None of the others had that problem. They devoured Leah’s figure, before comparing it to Carmen’s and found it wanting.

“Oh, you’re like that,” Leah said and grinned, leaning down and giving a scrumptious view of her cleavage, “I’ve always wanted to experiment. Is it as good as I’ve heard?”

“Depends,” Carmen said, fascinated by how just the slightest breath disturbed the otherwise dormant flesh. Not as soft as Stacy’s. The thought conjured both girls, side by side and naked, comparing their tits for Carmen’s amusement. Stacy had the win, of course. She’d never admit it, but drinking from her, feeling hot milk spraying her skin, turned Carmen on. If only this girl did too. The twitch of her member snapped Carmen’s attention. Not here. Anywhere but public.

“I suppose. Love and all that, right? Oh well. Ready to order?”

Everyone did. Carmen’s penis throbbed against its prison, hijacking her muscles so she flexed it, bringing pleasure. Just a hint of the bliss from earlier. She pleaded for it to calm down, but instead fed the arousal by watching Leah leave. The skirt was too short for her, stretched out and at its limit. A pair of tights tried making up for the lack of length, but only highlighted her legs. Carmen caught sight of a garter of all things, which squeezed her thigh flesh.

“She’s lovely,” Ryuka said from behind. The Seikogami reclined on the divider between booths, cock hanging freely over Zoey’s shoulder, and breasts within reach of Carmen’s mouth.

“Y-yeah,” Carmen nodded.

“Hmm, I’d wager she’s the docile type. Happy to sit back and let things happen.”

“Please don’t,” Carmen said under her breath. Warmth flowed through her cheeks down into the rest of her. The tight shirt became stifling and the bra constricted her. She wished she wore a button-up.

“Something wrong?” Ryuka teased and dragged a finger along Carmen’s cheek, before flipping herself so they came face to beautiful, seductive face. Carmen looked away, but that brought her gaze to Zoey’s chest, pronounced and duplicit against her incredible strength. In the same view was Mary’s, semi-spherical from the implants still inside her. A glance away brought her to Ashley, plump and natural and heavy to hold.

“Here you are,” Leah announced her return, setting down drinks before them. Her arm brushed Ryuka’s draping breast, but paid it no mind, instead she was focused on Carmen, “Are you alright? Your face is red.”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Leah leaned in again. Was she unaware how close her tits were to the table? Carmen tore her eyes away and looked at her face, somehow familiar to her. The eyes, nose and mouth all toyed with a recent memory, but her libido refused all access.

“I, uh, need the bathroom.” Carmen scooted past Zoey, hunched to hide any possible bulge in her pants, and rushed for the nearest restroom. It had a lock to her relief. She snapped it shut and collapsed against the first sink in reach. Her cock twitched, its every movement another spike of want, hooking into her discipline and pulling it thin as a sheet, allowing sweet promises of pleasure to sift through. But she couldn’t masturbate in a public restroom. Someone would find out.

“Not if you hide the evidence,” Ryuka said, “Besides, who’d care about someone coming in and jerking off? I’ve heard of grosser things you humans do in the toilets. Like defecation, ugh. Why can’t you people just fuck your assholes? So weird.”

Carmen didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she laughed. The entire day had been absurd. From her record number of orgasms in the morning, to Rachel’s suspicious behaviour… That’s where she knew Leah from! The similarities were too close to be mere coincidence. That was Rachel’s family, probably a sister.

“Yet they’re such opposites,” Ryuka said, “Oh, I felt that flicker of rage. What if Rachel was more involved than you thought? She might’ve been the one that got your mother fired, forced your hand to the Futa Note, and burned down Stacy’s lovely shop.”

“No,” Carmen breathed. She needed to calm down. Her bag was still on her shoulder, like the book prevented her from leaving it behind, “Everything turned out for the best anyway.”

“But you’re alone. Miserable,” Ryuka nudged Carmen’s head up and cradled it, stroking her cheeks, “I know you miss her. It’s only fair that you take something in return.”

“This isn’t something. It’s someone,” Carmen said, rasping for air now. She felt hotter than ever, ready to tear away her clothes. Trickles of sweat carved paths down her cheek, “What’re you doing?”

“Giving you a little push,” Ryuka said, “You’re immune to my aura. That’s impressive, but what about the Touch?”

“Another Seikogami thing?” Carmen asked. She could move away, stop Ryuka from touching her, but she found herself holding the deities hand. Pleasure was better than sadness. She’d spent years fixated on a single goal of helping her family, leaving no time to acknowledge her other emotions. Now they all took tentative steps back into her psyche, and sorrow was at the forefront, built up after denying it for so long. A hideous shadow twisting itself into grosser forms every second.

“It’s a condensed form of our aura. If I wanted, I could keep you turned on 24/7. You should really thank me for not doing that. Even when you were being so boring.”

Carmen hated feeling weak. Losing her father, losing Stacy, and now she was losing the fight against her own desires. She needed control. Ryuka’s hand streamed down her body, into her bag and pulled the Futa Note free. Limitless power held within something no bigger than a normal notebook. She shook her at the ridiculous reality she found herself in.

“Write her name,” Ryuka said, “Make her do what you want. It’s the least that Rachel owes you.”

“How about I write your name?” Carmen asked and chuckled, “No, I guess that wouldn’t have any affect on you. You’re a god after all.” She took the book and relaxed, like an addict finally getting a fix, if only a small one. The rest would come, all she needed was to write Leah’s name. Arousal bombarded and infiltrated her mind, symptoms of her withdrawal. It worried her, how the book seemed just like an addiction, worsening with every use. She had to put it down. Once she did, she could masturbate and put this behind her. Ignore it for the rest of her life.

“You want to understand what it can do, isn’t that what you said before?” Ryuka said, “If you don’t understand it, you’ll always be afraid. You can’t control what you don’t know.”

She was right. Addictive or not, she couldn’t exert control over something so unknown. The void in her knowledge meant temptation, and that would eventually lead her back to it. Who could say she wouldn’t use it on someone innocent, just to experiment. Leah was at least related to a guilty party. But why not write Rachel’s name? That would isolate Gretchen further. But she could be miles away. Her cock lurched for freedom, somehow worming its way from her underwear. Leah was practically outside the door.

Blank lines glared at her. Ryuka’s breath wailed in her ear, a siren’s song to her frayed nerves, and her hands kept moving. Fingertips flowed along skin, enticing pleasure from her. The ‘Touch’ negated all control. Her cock spasmed and strained her pants, bulging along the leg in desperation for freedom. Or to be held somewhere else.

“Why don’t you just get me off?” Carmen asked, grimacing at how crude she sounded. Her hand glided to her belt, unbuckled it and pushed her pants down, then Ryuka grabbed it.

“Much as I’d love that, I think you want something else a little more.”

Carmen stood there, panting and staring at the goddess, jeans halfway down her hips. The slight discolouration to her cock peered over the waist, veins engorged at the chance of release. Cool air slivered into her clothes from the AC, icy compared to Ryuka’s warmth. She glanced away from the blazing eyes and saw her reflection. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Eventually, someone would wander where she went, and she’d be frozen in place. She’d be trapped between jerking herself, or stealing someone else’s mind for the purpose.

“She’s so close to your perfect girl,” Ryuka said, bringing both her hands to Carmen’s breasts. Even the Seikogami’s hands just managed to contain them. One found her hooks and unhinged them, before sliding under her shirt to grope the naked, sensitive flesh, “Just a few changes. That’s all. I know you like milk, give her some great udders, plump up that ass and give her a fat, juicy cock. Make her your personal cow.”

“She’s a person,” Carmen whispered.

“You’ve seen how she moves, how she looks. Tell me that’s not someone that likes laying around, enjoying the simpler things in life.” Ryuka had a point. The way Leah moved made it clear she wanted life to be easy as possible. She took the shortcuts, leaned against whatever she could, even forewent something as simple as a bra because it felt better without one. Anything Carmen wrote wouldn’t impact her life.

“Just imagine having huge, milky tits wrapped around your cock, or feeling up her ass while you’re balls-deep inside her. Her belly could be a perfect cushion for you while you drink her bounty. Even if that’s not your thing, you can still have some fun, watching her grow into a cow. Until then, why not indulge yourself? Blowjobs are way better than hands, I can tell you.”

Ryuka released her tits and swivelled around to stare at their reflection, “Or you could write your own name. Become whatever you want to be. If that’s someone like me, then go for it. You’d make a great Seikogami, Carmen.”

“I don’t think so,” Carmen said and looked to the book, immediately finding the blank lines underneath her previous entries, few as they were, “Even if I try masturbating, you’ll just stop me.”

“The hard way is a lot more enjoyable, I find,” Ryuka said. Carmen took a pen from her bag, picturing Leah’s already buxom figure. The book had power beyond understanding. For now, she needed to cum and calm down. Then she could experiment, and Leah seemed not to have much of a life. Changing her would mean nothing. Except pleasure.

Paper met her pen. Too late now, she thought even before she wrote the first letter.

28

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 27 - Sample of Pleasure

The wait exasperated everything. Carmen’s sharp and heavy breaths, the thudding of her heartbeat in places she wished it wasn’t, and the rush of air on her skin all seemed too focused. She listened to the clamour of customers outside, footsteps passing to and from the door, always alert for the dreaded knock. And yet, in spite of that anxiety, her cock stood like a flag. She’d tried pinching herself, thinking of the least erotic things imaginable, but it wouldn’t soften.

Nearby, Ryuka giggled as she scoured the most recent entry of the Futa Note, “I’ve gotta say, you’ve really come a long way.”

“Please don’t,” Carmen said, wanting to ignore everything she’d written in there. She still didn’t believe her own mind, let alone her hands wrote something so awful. The stubborn memory had her throbbing harder than ever.

“Oh, don’t be so glum,” Ryuka teased and rolled onto her back, letting her breasts spill down her ribs. The nipple stared at Carmen, dark and ripe and tempting. She looked back, incapable of anything else, as white beaded on the tip, then broke and fell across the alabaster flesh, “Would a drink cheer you up?”

“If you’re just gonna tease me, then leave,” Carmen said through clenched teeth. The flow of milk increased, crashing to the floor in a pitiful puddle. Lust engulfed her veins in fire, but the reminder of Stacy chilled it, until other memories broke through. It all started with Stacy after all, or perhaps even before her. Because of her, Carmen’s cock lurched every time she imagined a pair of tits growing taut with milk. Oh, but they were beautiful. The nipples fattened into ripe cherries, ready to be suckled. And the taste, the feel of them.

Ryuka drew closer. She shifted to lean forward, boobs spilling over arms with the teats aimed at Carmen, practically gushing with milk. Just to look at them flirted with danger as spectres of Stacy’s taste made her drool. So sweet and warm, like a hug spreading throughout the body, while the nipple gushed between her teeth. Even the visage tempted her more than most. Heavy tits, tight as a drum with milk, and the darkened areolae fattening in preparation made her dick lurch.

The smell lured her in. The cold sink turned hot under her palms, her skin was clammy, trickles of sweat glistened on her skin. Drool escaped her lips. For a moment, even just a few seconds, Ryuka offered her a chance to forget everything. Carmen leaned in. Sex with a Seikogami must be indescribable. Once she experienced, she could let everything go. No more dread, or pride, or work.

A sharp knock shattered the thoughts.

“Hello?” Her eyes widened; it was Leah. A slight drawl identified her, as if her voice was also docile, “Someone said the door’s been locked for a while. Is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah, fine. Sorry.” Carmen tore her gaze from Ryuka’s tit, though she heard the dripping continue, and headed to the door. Her cock bounced with each step, but she didn’t bother pulling her clothes back into a presentable state. Once the door opened and Leah saw her, none of that would matter. Not a fool, Carmen stood out of sight as she opened the door. A moment later and Leah stepped in, her 50’s style skirt straining against her ass. Carmen locked the door again, enamoured with the figure.

“Hello?” Leah called, looking over the stalls.

“Behind you,” Carmen blurted and the newly-christened futa turned, revealing how her apron bulged at her crotch.

“Oh! Uh, hi,” Leah said, cheeks suddenly flush and eyes flickering across Carmen’s body, unable to decide where to look, “You… you too, huh?” She asked, nodding to the other futa’s crotch.

“Yeah,” Carmen said and bit her lip. Was she really about to go through with this? What she’d done before was punishment to people who wronged her and others, or needed help in Zoey’s case, but Leah had done nothing to her. Except give her an erection without realising it. How could anyone be so oblivious? She just flaunted her tits around not expecting an obvious lesbian to get turned on. And her reaction to growing a cock was lackadaisical at best, like it didn’t matter.

If sprouting a penis from nowhere was no big deal, then what was sucking someone else’s. Carmen took a breath. She was justified. Leah didn’t care, why should she? Besides, she thought as a line of drool broke on the plumper girl’s chin, she’s enamoured with it. Carmen stepped forward and watched Leah’s eyes follow the bounce of her cock, then stopped just out of arm’s reach.

“Well?” Carmen said and arched an eyebrow, before pulling her shirt off. The last vestige of decency was a bra, desperate to contain her breasts, that soon joined the rest in a pile. Several seconds ticked by in stillness. She worried that Leah had an aneurysm, but the futa quickly picked up the pace and untied her apron.

Self-image had never been a priority for Carmen. For years, she’d gladly let her health and hygiene dwindle, if only so Melody could thrive better. By no means would she ever have made it as a cheerleader or any sort of athlete, but the book changed that. Before even her curves developed as they had, she’d noticed the weight loss instantly. It just hadn’t mattered. It still didn’t.

But to know that just her body left someone dumbfounded was… euphoric. Perhaps the Futa Note was responsible for it, she had written it so Leah would be captivated by her, but that look of genuine lust couldn’t be faked. She’d seen it often enough on Ryuka and her friends’ faces to know it. She had all the power in the room, only by showing her body. Behind her balls, a dribble of moisture escaped Carmen’s pussy.

The thump of Leah’s clothes snapped her reverie. Carmen drank in the sight, pouring it onto her lust like gasoline on a fire. The redhead skirted the line of unseemly, with soft, chubby flesh abundant across her body, but especially in her chest and hips. Even her cock, the default size of fourteen inches, had a girth to it.

“Oh, I just love thicker women,” Ryuka said from above, and Carmen had to agree. Although a skinny woman with tits and ass cheeks the size of their head had a delicious dichotomy. She shook the thoughts off.

“So, uh, we’re gonna fuck, right?” Leah asked.

Now Carmen was left speechless. She just wanted to cum, and Ryuka wouldn’t help, or let her handle it on her own, she hadn’t considered anything further. Oh, it’d feel so good to slide her dick between that ass and into Leah’s… STOP! Carmen swallowed the extravagant lust. She only wanted to cum. A blowjob was more than enough. Blowjob? She could get by with just Leah’s hands so…

“Quit trying to hold back,” Ryuka said, floating over and draping her cock like a boa over Carmen’s shoulders, “You’re horny. She’s willing. Live a little, sweetheart. You deserve it.” She drifted away with a parting touch, imbued with her power. Carmen moaned and stumbled forward.

“N-no,” Carmen said, trying to regain herself, “But you’re going to make me cum, got it?” A shiver ran through Leah at her words, sending ripples across her voluptuous form. Her nipples hardened, already darker than a few seconds ago, a sign of the book taking full effect. She didn’t say anything, just waited, cock twitching in anticipation for Carmen’s next order. This wasn’t part of the transformation. Fascination and an urge to give her an orgasm, nothing more.

Did the book think making Leah submissive would help? Carmen chewed her lip, frustrated that she had to admit that it was right. She inhaled the musky air, so potent that she tasted echoes on her tongue, and really took Leah in. Not to admire her figure, or the way she seemed to present herself for Carmen, but to think of how best to climax from her. Long hair made for perfect handholds, but her tits would also work, maybe… Carmen chastised herself. This wasn’t the time.

Later? She didn’t answer her own thought, or she ignored the response, and focused. Just the mouth.

“On the ground,” Carmen said and gestured for Leah to fall. The fact she resembled a comic villain almost tore a snide laugh from her, if not for Leah’s instant response. She knelt before Carmen, legs spread to let her balls and pussy breathe, with her cock jutting out above them. She didn’t touch herself, only shook as Carmen stepped closer.

Trepidation taunted her lust as she leered down at the futa. Ryuka’s warmth grazed her back, a gentle push forward. From Carmen’s view, her cock obscured most of Leah’s face. The redhead had gone cross-eyed, trying to focus on it and nothing else. Carmen bent down to touch Leah’s hair, almost brushing her tits against the submissive futa, who took a sharp breath and opened her mouth. Gusts of air tingled against Carmen’s dick, urging a dollop of pre-cum to ooze out. It hung like a pendulum, swinging to her heartbeat, until it struck Leah’s tongue.

She licked it up and moaned, “Delicious.”

“Yeah? You want more?” Carmen asked, almost feeling it as her self-control slipped. Between Ryuka’s Touch and Leah’s meekness, her body didn’t help either, it was a miracle she’d held on for so long. Her fingers twined through Leah’s hair.

“Yes please. I want to drink more of your cock juice,” Leah slurred and stuck her tongue out, as if she were drunk on lust.

“Then work for it.” No sooner had Carmen said the words and given a slight tug, than Leah surged forth and swallowed the head. Before Carmen could process it, she pushed deeper and gagged, but didn’t move. The honour student gasped in place, staring at the gap between her crotch and Leah’s lips. About halfway, she noted and gave a slight push of her hips. Leah finally pulled away, leaving a swath of spit in her wake, though she stayed on the head. Her cheeks turned convex as she suckled on it.

“Oh… fuck…” Carmen relaxed. She kept a hand on Leah’s hair, while the other latched onto her own breast. The sensations weren’t as intense as having her pussy licked, but it was somehow soothing. Like a tender embrace compared to a French kiss. Her soft moans were all the praise Leah needed, as she started dragging her lips up and down the shaft. She always came back to suckle on the crown.

“Use your hands,” Carmen said and cooed at the embrace on her dick. Leah soon found a slow, even tempo. She stroked the whole length using her mouth and hands, uncaring of the saliva covering her palms. One hand was enough, so she switched the other to Carmen’s balls.

“No. Behind them,” Carmen moaned as her pussy was touched by another for the first time in months. She’d been too scared of Stacy’s reaction if she found her cock, and she didn’t dare let any of her friends pleasure her. Why? It felt good, and they’d be happy to. Her thoughts stumbled as Leah went to her limit again, breaching her throat until she couldn’t bear it. Don’t think, Carmen told herself and began rocking her hips. Just enjoy.

Ryuka was close by. Her heat never dissipated, so it came as no surprise when her hands found Carmen’s tits, expertly mauling them.

“Stop,” Carmen whispered, biting her lip. The Touch wasn’t active, but Ryuka’s experience was inhuman. Everywhere she squeezed, Carmen discovered a new point of pleasure. The god didn’t listen, instead she kissed the humans neck, leaving tiny nips behind.

“Don’t think,” Ryuka echoed her earlier thought, “Just enjoy.”

“R-right,” Carmen said and adjusted her grasp on Leah’s hair, before pulling, and thrusting into her. The redhead retched, she tried clenching her eyes shut, but a sharp pull stopped the behaviour. Green circles around dilated pupils glistened and stared at Carmen, not a trace of disdain or fear in them.

Two women were pleasuring her. One with curves just begging to snuggled against or watched as they jiggled, and the other with otherworldly beauty and sizes. Between them was Carmen. Was she still human? Maybe. Was she turning into a Seikogami? Maybe. She couldn’t think, didn’t want to. For that moment, until she had to end it and go back to reality, she existed as a stream of pleasure, guided by two riverbanks toward a greater ocean.

The closer she came, the harsher her movements. Carmen took the reins from Leah and thrust into her mouth, forcing her hands away. Moans and gags merged as the redhead was face-fucked, tongue hanging out and eyes watering. The honour student abandoned care and inhibition. She yanked on Leah’s hair, crammed every inch she could down her throat, while swinging her balls into the submissives chin. Faint layers of sweat came off with every slap of flesh.

Ryuka’s hands were never still. To Carmen’s right, the Seikogami’s monumental cock rose like a marble pillar, covered in ivy and ending in a bulbous head. Looking between it and her own was a miserable comparison, but size didn’t concern her. Pleasure was everything. She found her eyes reflected in Ryuka’s, clouded by lust. The kiss came without thought. The deity had no hand in it. Carmen pulled her in, moaned into her mouth, tasted and felt her tongue, of her own power.

Or she believed so. The world didn’t seem real, more like a dream-scape than a bathroom. Every nerve, vein and muscle crackled with desire, building energy to a breaking point, numbing her to anything but pleasure. Was that how Ryuka felt all the time? Perhaps it was just sex in general. She’d only felt close to such sensations with Stacy. But now, with her cock slamming into some girl’s throat, while said girl fingered her pussy and squeezed her ass, and a genuine goddess kissing her and toying with her body, she exceeded them.

Nothing seemed real. Even the increasingly brutal rhythm of her hips felt like another person’s, but she felt it all. And savoured it as her cock burrowed into Leah’s gullet, which clung to her like a living glove. For the brief moments she stayed, the walls pulsated and squeezed her, like a parting lover’s hug.

“I’m gonna cum,” Carmen said against Ryuka’s lips, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in someone’s mouth.”

Perhaps Leah heard her, because the redhead turned into a vacuum. She sucked and bobbed her head to the insane rhythm, not concerned by the spittle flying everywhere, or the abuse to her throat.

“She’s begging for it,” Ryuka said, sinking to watch the penetration up close, “Don’t be afraid to really give it to her. Go on, give her a belly load of your cum.”

“Make her cum too,” Carmen moaned, “I want her to cum from this.” She couldn’t be saying that. Not her. But it was her words; her thoughts manifested. She wanted to see Leah cum from being used like a cheap whore.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Ryuka said and giggled, stroking herself now. No matter how huge the deity seemed, her hands seemed puny against her cock, which surged between Carmen and Leah, almost connecting them with its girth alone, “She’s dripping from both ends. Go on, fuck her face like you’re gonna knock her up.”

“Knock her up…” Carmen practically tasted the words, their meaning filling her mind with Leah’s belly getting even larger, her tits swelling with milk on top of what she’d written, and throughout it all, her body at Carmen’s disposal, “No! Fuck, I’m cumming! Take it!”

As her balls cramped and her pussy clenched, Carmen tugged Leah to the base. The redhead moaned and shook with her throat stuffed full of cock. Her eyes widened as the first surge of Carmen’s seed surged through the shaft, before flooding her oesophagus. It came so hard and fast that it shot back up her airways and out her nostrils. She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth and nose were both full of cock and jizz.

Leah gurgled and her eyes rolled back. Hot ropes splashed Carmen’s feet. This futa, who had received nothing but abuse, was cumming for her. Carmen cupped her face, as if she’d tasted something divine, and found a smile on it. Not the usual grin of release she often had when cumming, but a deranged, lopsided smirk.

Beneath her, Ryuka also moaned, “Let me join in.” Carmen looked at her and saw the Seikogami’s cock had almost doubled in size, as had her testicles. Before she could say anything, Carmen was made audience to a climax like none other. In that the explosion she expected was absent. Ryuka groaned and thrust into her hands like she was cumming, yet nothing came out. Even the usual stream of pre-cum was absent.

“I can’t cum when I want in this world,” Ryuka later said, stroking her now flaccid member like a doting mother, “If I did, there’d be some serious flooding and questions.”

“What did you do then?” Carmen asked. She leaned on the sink again, taking the weight from her quaking legs. Leah hung on the cusp of unconsciousness, lying on her side with semen leaking from her mouth and cock. Her clothes were draped over her body, in case anyone walked in after Carmen left.

“I just came in my own world. Probably on someone, who knows,” Ryuka shrugged.

“Hmm.”

“Were you disappointed?”

“A little,” Carmen admitted, recalling how massive the Seikogami had become, “It was anti-climatic.”

Ryuka leaned down, looking into the reflection of Carmen’s eyes, “Well, next time, I won’t disappoint you.” She said, and kissed the humans cheek.

“Stop it,” Carmen shuffled over to her clothes, “I’m not like that.”

“Oh, of course,” Ryuka pouted.

“But… I’m not above a little ‘entertainment’,” Carmen added.

“Oh?”

“I want to know more about the book. And, much as I hate to admit it, I liked this. If I just try ignoring the urge, it’ll get worse and worse, right? So, I’ll indulge a little here and there. But on my terms, got it? Don’t you dare use the Touch on me again,” Carmen said, glaring at her unreal companion.

“Hey, long as you provide the fun, I’ll happily leave you be. What next?” Ryuka asked, beaming with glee.

“We wait.”

“...what?”

“I want to see what she does first. Then I’ll come back,” Carmen said, glancing at the recent futa’s body, “And I might do this again.” With her clothes in place, hair and face presentable, she exited the bathroom. Almost half an hour later, Leah did the same, just as Carmen was leaving with her friends.

Back in her room, Carmen pondered the ceiling. She saw everything she’d done, her failure, on its blank canvas. Ethereal weight pushed on her chest at the thought, forcing her to roll over to try and get rid of it, but the pressure stayed. Her stomach felt empty despite the filling lunch. ‘You messed up’, those three words looped around and through her head. Any better thought was shut out, strangled before it could distract her.

“What’re you moping about now?” Ryuka asked.

“Nothing,” Carmen said, “Just thinking.” If she’d just been more resilient, then that entire scene wouldn’t have happened. Because she was helpless against Ryuka, and her own desires, she turned another girl into a futa. Now the thought didn’t worry her, but that was concerning all its own. What was one more? A dangerous thought, that persisted time and again. It’d get worse now, all because she’d used the book again.

“I can see into your head.”

“Shit,” Carmen groaned and pulled her legs in close, hugging them in lieu of her sister. Their mother was out with Melody, scouting new schools for the youngest Robins girl. It made the house seem empty, lonely.

“Why are you so concerned with failing anyway? Isn’t that how your race developed?” Ryuka came to perch on the bed, wings flapping irritably, “Besides, you didn’t mess up. I messed you up, remember?”

“For years, I’ve ignored everything for my sister,” Carmen said, not looking at the deity, “I didn’t care about my hormones, or what I looked like. I barely even masturbated. Now I can’t even go a day without it. I should be better than that. I am better than this.”

“Please!” Ryuka’s eye roll came through her voice, “Do you have any idea what another mortal would be like around me? They’d be lucky if they didn’t try nesting in my pussy after this long. You’re no failure, Carmen.”

“If I’m so special, then why I couldn’t refuse you earlier?”

“Anyone else and they’d be my condom. You didn’t even suck me off, much less bend over for me. Hell, I started touching you when you were getting blown, and you only kissed me.”

“Don’t remind me.” Carmen despised how close she’d come to the edge. If the Seikogami had tried going further, she wouldn’t have refused. Just the memory burned in her loins, cowed only by her disappointment.

“What I’m saying is, letting yourself have fun isn’t bad. Things have changed. You’re not poor, or frumpy looking, you have a cock and you’ve got a flock of futanari ready to fling themselves at you. There’s no sense in clinging to what you were like in the past. Now cheer up, being the sensible one is boring,” Ryuka flopped onto her back, hard enough to bounce Carmen, who tumbled over the Seikogami’s chest. Next to the giant mounds, rested the Futa Note.

“Yeah… guess you’ve got a point,” Carmen said and grabbed the book. Its presence in her hands soothed her, as if whispering sweet nothings, but that shouldn’t be. Relying on such a thing would ruin her one day. In what way? So long as she guarded it, and didn’t let someone else use it, then the book could do nothing to harm her, but what if she started to need it. What if she gave up on handling things for herself.

No. Carmen knew that she was stubborn, her grades in spite of everything proved it, just having the option was enough. If things collapsed around her, then the book could help her again. A last resort, she thought and flipped to Leah’s entry, but ignored what she already wrote.

“Oh? What’re you planning?” Ryuka asked.

“Just thinking about plans. It’s Summer vacation after all,” Carmen said, tapping her pen against the page. It was too late for Leah, the transformation into a futa was permanent. Perhaps reverting her to something like Dakota was possible, but where was the fun in that?

“You’re a terrible influence, you know that?” Carmen sighed. On her inhale, she noticed the bite of her bra. Frowning, Carmen adjusted it but the discomfort remained. Another sigh. She went through a bra every two weeks it seemed, sometimes faster, “Looks like I need new bras.”

“No you don’t. Your tits are perfect. Let them hang loose and you won’t notice a difference,” Ryuka said.

“Really? Well, guess there’s no point in visiting Leah in a few days. Shame, and I was thinking of trying out a few things.”

“Hey now, let’s not be too hasty. True, boobs should be free, but sometimes a bit of support is divine.”

“Thought so,” Carmen snickered and traced the paper down to a blank line under Leah’s name. She erased the full stop, and started her additions. Not that they would take effect until they met again. But the first transformation was still active.

Leah returned home without her bra. The useless thing was in a trash can somewhere inside the mall she worked at. Shame too, as she’d only bought it a few weeks ago, though she must’ve grown since then. After a few hours of work, the hooks were biting into her and the cups overflowed with her bosom. Few of her customers minded, even less when her top almost burst open. She had no clue why this happened, or why her darling cunny was now partnered with a dick.

It wasn’t bad. Other people might freak out, call a doctor, maybe try cutting it off, but those types were insane. No woman should give up a chance to experience the rare joy of a male orgasm. And oh did she enjoy it. Cumming ‘normally’ was a full body experience, like a sudden rush of love and warmth. Her cock, however, was an explosion.

She rolled her tongue across her lips, cooing at the memory. If cumming from one was incredible, just imagine what both at once felt like, but why imagine it when she was a few steps from her room. Her pussy warmed and its sibling swelled. Before that, she needed a good drink. Between work and the episode in the bathroom, she’d had a glass of milk and nothing else.

“Hmm, perfect,” Leah said, retrieving a fresh bottle of milk. It was the luxurious kind, claimed better taste and health than all the competitors, and that it was ‘fresh from the cow’. She wasn’t sure about that, though the taste was no lie. Full glass in hand, a burgeoning lust in the back of her mind, and double the genitals, Leah headed to her room. Rachel collided with her at the kitchen door.

“Sorry Leah, I… whoa,” Rachel said.

“What? Oh, yeah. I had some kind of growth spurt today,” Leah said and shrugged.

“That’s not normal,” Rachel gasped, staring at the elder girl, “Leah, they’re like two cups bigger than normal.”

“Really?” Leah asked, not paying much attention as she sipped her drink. When did she drink half of it? She hadn’t spilt any either. Better get a refill, given the amount of fluids she was planned to waste. She smirked and turned away.

“And your ass got bigger,” Rachel noted.

“Did it?

“Are you sure nothing weird happened?”

“No. I mean… yeah, no,” Leah said. Her sister had a tendency to overreact, or over analyse certain changes, and growing a penis would pique her curiosity without doubt. Or maybe something else would happen? Spending a majority of time online led Leah to stranger sites, with stories ranging from vanilla to sisters suddenly becoming incestuous bunnies. Others even had them grow cocks of their own. Leah’s eye ran across her petite sister’s body.

Petite described her to a ‘T’. Slight bumps for her chest, enough to be missed but not ignored, and a sleek waist that spread into her hips. No one would think Rachel was a boy, perhaps a fem-boy, however she didn’t look like a woman. Not yet anyway. Puberty could wait until the last minute. On that day, maybe Leah would tell her.

Rachel eyed her like an unsure animal, “Did you talk to someone named Carmen?”

“Well, yeah. Carmen’s my manager,” Leah chuckled.

“I mean, like, a customer or something. Did you get on their bad side?”

“Maybe? I think there was a girl called Carmen, but I’m not sure. Only a weirdo remembers every customer’s name. Although, there was this gorgeous girl with a bunch of other people like her. Like, phew, you think my tits are big?” Leah bit her lip, recalling the table in vivid detail. She’d made sure to memorise them. If she hadn’t grown her dick, then she might’ve tried getting a number or two. One of them looked like a regular, so she might see them again. She hoped.

“Okay,” Rachel walked away, mumbling under her breath.

“I swear, something’s wrong with her. Huh?” Leah huffed when she checked her refill and realised she’d drunk it all during the conversation, brief as it was, “Okay, fuck it. Taking the carton.”

29

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 28 - Indulgence

The thrum of her phone tore Carmen’s gaze from her book on archaeology. Who was it this time? She checked the date; probably Leah. Opening e-mail, she was struck by another picture of Leah Adams, topless and beaming at the camera with one arm hefting up her breasts. A half empty glass of milk sat in the background.

When Carmen wrote the change, she hadn’t expected Leah to be so enamoured with the catalyst. Maybe she wasn’t. The book held so many nuances, small additions to extract the full effect of an entry that she couldn’t predict. Regardless, the pictured futa had progressed faster than anticipated. Another photo showed the beginnings of new boobs beneath the first. Carmen gulped and slammed it on her bed. Too late. Her cock was hard.

“The more I see of your brain, the more I like,” Ryuka said, taking the phone, “You’re turning her into a real human cow.”

“Dammit,” Carmen groaned and went to the bathroom. Dread and anticipation crawled through her toes and fingers, while lust rampaged toward her crotch, bulging through her pants and dripping down her thigh. She’d given up on panties or even boxers at home, having soaked through too many sets in just two weeks. All because of Leah.

The first image she handled well enough. It was just a plump, attractive girl presenting her boobs, nothing she couldn’t see with a quick web search, then everything snowballed from there. In a mirror of Carmen’s desire, Leah’s areolae darkened, her nipples swelled to the size of ripe grapes, the breasts blossomed until they eclipsed her ribs and then the lactation. Her dick lurched at the banquet she teased it with.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Carmen said after wiping away and flushing her latest orgasm. In the moment, she forgot everything and basked in pleasure, blind to the world. Then the glow faded, and she was left facing a goo-covered toilet, and a floor splattered in her vaginal fluids. Oh, and the smell. Carmen kept a stash of air fresheners for it, but she doubted they did anything. Even fresh air seemed crushed under her musk.

She shivered at the word. ‘Musk’ sounded so base, like she was devolving. And wasn’t she? Humans evolved to control their urges, that’s what made them the ‘superior’ species. Wild animals just followed their desires, without a care but for survival and their next meal.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Humans give into their urges all the time. Gambling, alcoholism, sex addiction, it’s all part of being human, isn’t it?” Ryuka mused.

“Yes, but… I should be better,” Carmen flopped onto her bed, its cloud-like sheets and pillows hugged her on all sides, yet she wasn’t satisfied. Above her, Ryuka hovered like always. At times, it looked like she was swimming, her breasts and genitals bobbing in a water current. It’d feel so much better to be held by her, Carmen thought and snapped her head to the side. Her neck and cheeks burned.

“Hmm?” Ryuka floated down, then through the bed. Carmen jolted as the Seikogami came from below, arms looped around her waist. Those massive breasts squished against and around her back, softer than any cushion she knew, “I may be a Seikogami, but I’m also a hugger.”

Carmen gulped, trying to keep her thoughts under control. She had a better chance of outrunning a cheetah than ignoring Ryuka. Softness enveloped her torso, warmth teased her legs where the deity’s cock touched her. How had she avoided touching it? The skin against her leg was smooth, soft like everything else, yet a hardness laid beneath it. Ready to take hold.

“Let me go,” Carmen said.

“No,” Ryuka giggled, “It’s okay to enjoy this. We’re not crossing any of your boundaries, are we?”

“No, but I know what you’re like.”

“You’re worried about the Touch.”

Carmen groaned, “Stay out of my head.”

“It’s okay,” Ryuka repeated and kissed the human’s head, “I’m not about to force you into anything.”

“You did with Leah,” Carmen said.

“No, I just helped you make a choice,” Ryuka said and moved her hands to cup Carmen’s bust, “Now, if I used it here and took advantage of your lust, then that’d be force. I’m not about that. Though these are quite nice now. How come you never play with them?”

“Because I’m not like you,” Carmen forced the goddess’s hands away. They settled on her belly instead, tracing patterns over the shirt.

“That’s what makes you interesting.” Ryuka leaned back. For minutes, they laid in silence. Carmen considered getting up several times, but her body demanded she remain. Sleep had become scarce since she transformed Leah. Most dreams featured her pictures, imagining them coming alive and helping Carmen to cum, which never failed. It was why Carmen now stored condoms with her air fresheners. They made going to bed uncomfortable, but at least the mess was contained.

She glanced at the trash bin near her bed. Hidden under paper scraps and wrappers, laid bundles of swollen condoms, each the size of grapefruits and growing. It made her wonder just how much she was producing everyday. The thought sparked her arousal, but the flame sputtered out as sleep came. Atop Ryuka’s so very soft body, Carmen drifted off.

And found herself in a familiar dream-scape. It was the diner restroom, standing across from Leah, except her figure was the same as the recent pictures. Broad hips swung as they approached, tits bouncing to her steps, all four of them. The top pair were massive, larger than Carmen’s and overshadowed the new set. Two nipples on each breast, each leaking a stream of milk. Leah stopped just out of Carmen’s reach and started touching herself.

She groped each breast, keening moans gliding through the air. She dropped one, splashing milk onto the floor, and moved the hand between her legs, where her fourteen-inch cock stood sentry. But she ignored it. Instead, Leah spread her legs and turned to present her pussy. Chubby like the rest of her, its full lips glistened and squeezed between her thighs. Her balls shrouded the clit, but it snuck into sight.

Leah backed closer and closer until the humid heat of her cunt enshrouded Carmen’s cock. Its smell drowned out the sweet milk aroma, burying it under the alluring stench of pussy. However, like most dreams, Leah turned back around and returned to playing with her breasts. She could drink from them at that size. Easily. If she did, it’d create a perfect feedback loop.

It was still a dream. There, Carmen’s mind was God, the Devil and everything between, with Leah as nothing but a plaything to please her. Taking her upper breasts in hand, nipples swelling with milk and blood, Leah swallowed all four nipples and sucked. Lips pursed tight, she refused to let a drop escape. Her throat worked hard to swallow, loud gulps and sordid moans filling the room. As she drank, her bottom pair ballooned. The top weren’t far behind either.

Her hands vanished inside their gorgeous bounty. Two more nubs formed in the areolae, now the size of plates, and grew into their own nipples. Leah paused to take them in as well, doubling her intake. The younger tits were on par with their sisters, each still growing as they were lifted by another pair. Half a dozen fountains doused the floor in milk.

“You can do more.” Someone - Ryuka? - said. From shadows, a figure so voluptuous, a face so gorgeous and a presence so haunting stepped out. That wasn’t Ryuka. This… creature seemed to struggle with the darkness, like it wanted to be seen and heard and couldn’t be, “Your desires go beyond this, don’t they? Give them a chance. You won’t regret it.”

“What are you?” Carmen asked, stroking herself to the pair. How couldn’t she? Leah was blooming into a human cow before her eyes, with tits bigger than Stacy’s, almost the size of Ryuka’s, and the creature that almost seemed familiar. It broke free of the shadows. No wings or cock, so it wasn’t a Seikogami. It, she, approached and stood with her arms wide.

“Whatever you want...” Her form changed, shrinking and widening slightly.

“Don’t.” Carmen shook her head, but too late. The creature, whatever she was, had taken on Stacy’s form.

“Or do you want another?” She returned to her original form, then a cock sprouted and grew to Ryuka’s size, “You can’t hide your desires, Carmen. Or control them. The only ‘control’ you can have is how you indulge in them.” More changes. Taller, wider hips, tits too large for any torso, fatter cock and balls.

“Stop. Stop. Stop.” Carmen bit her lip to keep from moaning the words. She was close. Another mess to clean up, but it’d feel so good to make.

“You’ve got such a vast imagination, Carmen,” the creature said, still changing, gaining stranger additions by the seconds. Arms sprouted beneath others, which groped the new pairs of tits bellowing forth, while tendrils stretched from behind to stroke three separate dicks. The nipples changed, some fattened and opened, revealing new pussies. Others became mouths, more dicks. She raised her beanbag sack and revealed a pussy bigger than Carmen’s head.

“And the power to use it. So, why not?”

“Fuck!” Carmen shrieked and jerked her hips forward. Cum rocketed out of her, so strong that she thought it would rend her cock and balls, as she was battered by ecstasy. For every drop unleashed, it was like mortars striking. None landed back on her. She looked and saw Ryuka’s face buried in her crotch.

“No, GOD!” More shot forth. She grabbed the Seikogami’s head and held it there, twitching against it through an orgasm she’d dreaded and so, so very craved. When the dregs oozed out, Carmen relaxed and wondered if she’d ever move again. Or think clearly.

“My, that was intense,” Ryuka said. Carmen raised her head to see the deity licking her lips clean of cum, “Not many people cum hard enough to make me spill a bit. You’ve got potential, kid.”

“Just… shut up,” Carmen relaxed and pondered the dream, painting the creature upon the ceiling. What was that?

“Probably your subconscious,” Ryuka said.

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded.

“Or the Futa Note.”

“What?” Weariness forgotten, Carmen sat upright and glared at Ryuka, “What does that mean?”

“Dunno,” the goddess shrugged, “But the book is alive to some extent. It learns from its owner, sometimes even guides her. Perhaps it sensed your hesitation and tried giving you a little push.”

“That must be it,” Carmen said. She leaned onto her pillows, crushing the thought of how Ryuka’s breasts were softer, and composed herself. The book was to blame, not her mind. Always the book. She couldn’t be the one at fault. On her nightstand, the Futa Note rested unopened, untouched for days now. Perhaps the apparition in her dream was its fault, but Leah was her creation. If she just dealt with those feelings, then she could move on.

“Good news, I’m going to the mall tomorrow.”

-Leah-

Time was ticking. Leah’s second alarm went off fifteen minutes ago, blaring at her to hurry up and get to work. Easier said than done. She’d showered, ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, used the toilet, but the most crucial part of her new routine went on and on; the milking. Rachel had left to meet a friend already, fed up with waiting on her sister. But it wasn’t Leah’s fault.

She didn’t tell Rachel about what was happening to her. Aside from dying of embarrassment, she didn’t want to give the kid another reason for concern; high school must be tough enough already. Their parents didn’t know either. And that’s how it would stay. Even if they offered to help with the milking, she couldn’t let them know the other change.

It’s what made the milking drag out so long. Even after she took measures to speed it up, even buying breast pumps of all things, she never left the house until the last minute. Her milk never seemed done. Or her cock for that matter. The moment she attached the pumps and the cream flowed, her dick swelled into her hand and begged to be loved. But if she focused on it, her milk came too slowly. If she focused on her tits, then she didn’t get the pleasure of her cock.

“Okay, secret weapon,” Leah grinned. From a box under her bed, she retrieved another box. Inside was her best chance at leaving on time; a pocket pussy. Her co-workers got it for her as a joke after she mentioned how big her clit was - she got drunk, what else was she gonna say. They didn’t know it, but they’d saved her. After preparing everything, she was ready. She stuck the pocket pussy to her wall.

“Alright,” Leah poured some lube over her shaft, though her pre-cum was plentiful enough, and applied it to her toy. She held both and slid inside, “Fuck, that’s tight.” But it took her. Only halfway, but enough. The silicone bulged with her cock and clung to her every ridge and vein. Hands freed, Leah grabbed her tits. The pumps were almost full. Shit! She couldn’t leave, someone might see, and there were no other empty cups.

“I can’t believe this,” Leah said and gulped. She brought the two cups she’d already used and upended them into her mouth one by one, “Oh fuck! I’m delicious.” Heat washed through her, tearing a moan from her lips. She knew the sensation by now and watched her tits. They grew, so faint that anyone else would miss it, however she saw the growth. Something wet on their bottoms brought a groan.

“No, not you too.” Her other pair were leaking now. Whatever she was going through felt amazing. Just walking rubbed her huge breasts against the smaller pair, hardening her nipples at the worst and best times. All eight of them. She didn’t have time to pump them all. It’d leave a mess, but better than being late. Her boss was getting pissed enough already.

Alternating breasts, Leah squeezed. She replaced the cups and drank them too. The warmth returned, surging down her body and into her loins. Her tits swelled into her hands, tight and hot and full. Concern melted away in a wave of pleasure. Milk spurted from her nipples and the sex toy coiled around her dick. The feeling of fluid leaving her engorged teats, squeezing out holes too small for her demand, was as delicious as drinking it. Oh fuck! Realisation flashed through her. Leah moved the pump down to her bottom set and hefted the top.

“Can’t believe this.” Leah gulped and stared at her leaking nubs, swollen and sensitive from the pump. Her areolae had fattened outward, like an udder, almost reaching for her lips. She closed the gap on both her breasts, wrapping an arm over to hold them in place, and suckled.

Customers always bothered her about the ‘freshness’ of the food. ‘Was it bought in today’ and ‘how old is this soda’. She just told them whatever they wanted to hear, whether they believed her or not was up to them. Now, however, she understood the difference. Having her milk slightly cooled from the cup, its taste distilled by the precious seconds out of her tits did not compare. Leah guzzled every drop she could, though some dribbled out.

She fucked the toy faster. She bowed her legs and swung her hips like a madwoman, balls flying into the pocket pussy, then her ass and back again. It stung, but pleasure swarmed the sensation and buried it.

“Ugh, can’t believe this!” Rachel shouted. What was she doing back? No worries, just focus on finishing. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, approaching Leah’s door, “Leah? You still in there?”

“Shit! Y-yeah, just getting dressed.” Her hips wouldn’t stop. She moaned into a hand, breasts leaking down her front and soaking the carpet.

“Well hurry up! The buses aren’t running for some fucking reason.”

“Give me a few minutes!” Leah abandoned any intent on savouring herself and keeping things mostly clean. She pounded the wall, pinched her nipples and clenched her thighs to rub against her fat pussy. It was her favourite, covert way to masturbate. Her clit poked out and was pinched. Here it comes. Leah did her best to hold back her blissful scream, reducing it to a sharp roar as cum blasted out her dick.

“Oh, oh god that was awesome,” Leah giggled and fell onto her thick ass, “Can’t imagine how good a real pussy feels.” Viscous jizz drooled from the abused toy.

“Leah!” Rachel pined from outside, shocking her into action.

After their growth spurt, her bottom breasts almost showed through her clothing. Last thing she wanted was to explain them to someone. She rummaged through her old clothes, too lazy to throw them out, and found an old shirt. Tearing into it, she fashioned a belt and looped it around her lower breasts, squishing them down against her belly. Uncomfortable, yet effective. She’d find a better solution later.

“Gretchen’s so annoying,” Rachel grumbled in the car.

“Why hang out with her then?” Leah asked. She’d heard enough about Gretchen to know she wasn’t a good person.

“Because…” Rachel shrugged.

“That’s not a reason.”

“I dunno. I’ve just done it since freshman year, so it’s normal.”

“Normal isn’t always good,” Leah said, holding back a smirk.

“Fair enough. Doesn’t matter. After this shitty prep year thing, I’m done with her.”

“Oh yeah, what’s your plan anyway?” Leah asked.

Rachel started, “Huh? What plan?”

“For when you graduate. Going to college or just working?” Leah shook her head. Her sister got flustered over the smallest things sometimes.

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Not a clue. I’ll think about it when the time comes.”

“I could always put a word in at the café.” Leah offered.

“No. Like I need more people comparing our… Did your tits grow again?”

“Hmm, oh yeah. Must be a second puberty.”

“That’s not a thing, Leah. It’s gotta be all those snacks you’re sneaking. I thought you were on a diet.”

“I am! I cut milkshakes and coffee and soda. Just water and milk.”

“You could at least cut back on the éclairs and doughnuts,” Rachel shook her head, looking out the window, though her eyes flitted back to Leah.

“No! Those are my favourites.”

“Tough shit. If you don’t want your tits to turn into udders, you’d better stop.”

“Nothing wrong with udders,” Leah said, stroking her breast. She stopped and focused back on the road. Her tongue slipped out and licked her lips, thinking of the bounty imprisoned in her boobs. Rachel just murmured something and fell into silence.

Her manager wasn’t happy, of course. She was five minutes late - better than yesterday - but they just shoved her into work. It was Saturday, busiest time of the week, no time for discipline. Her lower breasts ached from their bonds, however the work rhythm kept it from her attention. As did a familiar face.

It was that girl from a couple weeks back. She was alone, sat in a corner with just a cup of coffee. A notebook sat in front of her, while she tapped a pen. Writer’s block? She glanced up at Leah, who hurried onto another table. For some reason, she wanted to know that girl. She was attractive, sure, with breasts just begging to be adored, but there was something else. If Leah got the chance, she’d get that girls number.

Her heart sank when she next looked and saw no one there. Another time, then.

“Waitress!”

“Coming! What can I… um, get for you?” Leah frowned and pulled on her shirt. Was it always that tight? The customer made their order, and Leah was on her way. The tightness alleviated, then another patron called for her. An attractive, if haggard woman with two kids, probably a single mother. She must not get much action, Leah thought.

The tightness was back, this time it focused in her boxers. Leah leaned forward to hide her discomfort, taking the order as she always did. Her underwear got tighter as she waited for the kids to figure out their choices. That shouldn’t be. She bought the largest pair that’d fit her, and they’d worked so far. It couldn’t be growing as well.

Eventually, she went to place the order. The garment remained tighter, but it wasn’t getting any worse at least.

“Her ass is so hot.”

“What about her pussy?” Leah looked and saw a nearby table of two. A pair of girls, lesbians she suspected, were stealing glances at her. They probably thought it was too loud to hear, but Leah had learned to pick out conversations amid the noise. One waved for her and she headed over. Again, she felt like something was off. This time she noticed that her clothes weren’t at fault, but her body.

“Man, your tits are huge,” one girl said, grinning ear to ear. Leah wasn’t focused on her breasts, worried by the odd sensations between her ass cheeks and thighs.

“Th-thanks. What can I get you?”

“How about… a date?” The other girl asked, licking her lips.

Leah cleared her throat and turned her thoughts to anything non-erotic. Kittens were nice, then her mind twisted into a girl with cat ears and a tail. Old, decrepit nuns. That worked.

“Sorry, can’t quit until five,” Leah smiled.

“Shame. I love thicker girls. Especially when they sit on my face.”

“So! Um, what can I get you?” Leah repeated. The heat between her legs was horrible, and something strange was rubbing between her ass cheeks. It wasn’t her boxers, they felt different to this. The lesbians let her go. Thank god. She had to see what was happening to her body. Right as she came to the restroom, someone asked for her. Leah opened her mouth to refuse and apologise, but the words caught. She went over.

Another table of women. Just friends this time it seemed, though both were equally fascinated by her rack. That original tightness returned, stronger this time. Leah waited until the order was done to check herself.

“No, no, no.” Her breasts had grown. Not the small amount she’d experienced over the past two weeks, though that had added up. She looked a couple cup sizes bigger, if not more. Her shirt was riding up now, as neither mountain gave much ground to gravity.

“I’m telling you man, long tongues are the best. Like, top tier for me now. Oh! Hey, could I get a water?”

“S-sure,” the moment Leah said that, her tongue tingled like it was numb, then her mouth felt full, “What the fuck is going on?!” Leah hissed at herself and gasped at how her tongue rolled out. It recoiled just as fast. She got the customers water, but got distracted and spilled it.

“Oh crap, I’m so…” Her tongue slipped out as she bent over. He stared at her, while her cheeks burned hotter than a deep fryer and she dabbed at his shirt.

“Hey, uh, are you doing anything tonight?”

“Yes.” She said and escaped before anything more could happen.

“So, I was on this website the other day and you won’t believe what showed up… double pussy. Like, girls with two vaginas. Hot, right?”

Leah didn’t wait and moved to another table. Whatever magic was terrorising her, or if this was a dream, she wasn’t allowed to stop working. Someone always needed something it seemed, nor could she refuse them. Worst of all, every customer just made her hornier as they flirted or talked about weird things. She tried going to the bathrooms, but someone always called her.

“Take a break, Leah. Ten minutes, got it!” Her manager shouted from the back.

“Thank you!” Leah scampered to the restroom and slammed it shut, panting hotly. Everything was hot and alive, like a million volts were frying her nerves. She walked to a sink and stared at the mirror. A familiar stranger stared back. That was her, right?

She yelped and backed away before she could take in the staggering visage. Her eyes fell to her tits, which moved as if someone were groping her, yet she saw no hands or anyone behind her. All she could do was feel them. Leah grabbed at herself, trying to break free, however nothing but her own skin met her touch. A ghost? Was she cursed?

That might explain everything. No one could prove ghosts didn’t exist, or vice versa, so perhaps Leah was victim to a perverted spectre. A spectre that knew how to use its hands. Fingers dug into key points, urging the blood into her nipples, and the milk to flow. Of course they were full again. She hadn’t expected this, as such she had no pumps. Her only options were to let it drain into a sink, or drink it.

Her cock lurched at the suggestion, digging the boxers into her skin. Any other time, and at home, she wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. But this was where she worked. She had to be out in ten minutes, less by then, and presentable. She couldn’t go back out there though. Leah was slow, she admitted that freely, but not stupid. If she served a customer, her body changed.

And drinking her milk would just exasperate it. The spectral hands stepped up a gear, tugging on her nipples and soaking her shirt. Juices ran down her thighs, which she clenched together, then jerked apart again. Since when was her pussy so big? Leah gawked at her panting reflection, its lips too plump to be hers, eyes too large and hair a deeper red than ever, and at the way her tits were handled. Quivering in pleasure and fear, she reached down her body and lifted her uniform skirt.

It fell from her grasp to drape over her straining cock. Just as she’d feared, the member had grown even greater, now thicker than her chubby bicep with a flattened head to match. The skin looked a bit darker too. It almost resembled an animals, but which one?

Her thought crumbled when the ghost abandoned a breast and yanked her boxers down. For a moment, she stood frozen, incapable of processing why or how this happened to her. Delicate pink folds dipped below her ballsack, no small feat at its size, and ropes of viscous fluid drooled from it. Leah lifted her testicles, hot and heavy and pouring from her palms.

“What the fuck is this?” Even her voice trilled with pleasure. Cradling her sack in an arm, she cupped her new oversized pussy. She recoiled, hissing in shock and delight, and touched again. It was too big for her hand, the vulva squishing out the sides and drenching her in juices. She squeezed and had to grab the sink for balance. When she looked at the mirror again, her face was smiling.

“Well… fuck it, I’ve got time.” Leah crumbled to her knees and crammed fingers past her meaty cunt-flaps. The insides fit three without trouble, and a fourth just the same. Her fist was next, snug in a cocoon of pussy. It squelched with the smallest movements, juices splashing her thighs. All the while, the ghost kept playing with her boobs.

“H-hey, I’ve got these,” Leah said and shoved her face into one boob, angling its nipples to her mouth. The other hand stopped, “No… keep going. Please?” The ghost seemed hesitant, then its touch returned, this time on Leah’s pussy. She acquiesced and pulled out, her snatch slurping on her hand the whole way. Then it was replaced not by fingers, but what felt like a tongue. Oh god, the spirit was eating her out. She put the other hand to work on her neglected cock.

The warmth returned and doubled. Why, she wondered. She wasn’t serving a customer, therefore the ‘curse’, or ‘spell’ or whatever it was, shouldn’t activate. Yet, she felt it deep in her gut. A roiling sensation of growth. Along with a sudden rush of bliss. Leah fell onto her back, which arched to fit the new height of her ass. Her breast, the one not bound or held, rolled off her torso like a water balloon. Or an overfilled condom. They must weigh a ton. She should be uncomfortable, even as she came on a ghost’s tongue, yet nothing disturbed her ecstasy.

If anything, the weight made it better. She grunted at a sharp pain, which faded back into pleasure. Her breasts grew. The bottom tier struggled with their bondage. Milk soaked through the cloth. Leah bit into her teat and held it in her mouth as she pushed the torture device away. Free to release as they wished, milk pooled around Leah as she drank more. Her cock throbbed in her hand and pre-cum spilled like a busted faucet.

“Leah! What’re you doing in there? We need you out here.”

-Carmen-

Carmen fell back at the sudden shout. Her tongue tingled with the juices on it, which dried and dripped on her cheeks. She looked around in stunned silence, panting and aroused. What did she do? Unlike her, Leah was already in motion. She put her clothes back on, proper as she could in her current state and went to leave, face betraying no worry over what her appearance might do.

“Shit!” Carmen lunged for her bag and tugged the Futa Note. One small addition; ‘only Carmen will notice anything wrong with Leah’s appearance’. The calligraphy was awful, but the book didn’t care. By the lack of screams, it worked in time.

“I never expected that from you,” Ryuka giggled as she floated in view, “What next?”

Carmen glanced at her and said nothing. She wiped her face and rinsed out her mouth, but the tang of Leah’s pussy stuck with her. That was stupid. She shouldn’t have done that, or been in the bathrooms to begin with. If not for her ridiculous body, then everything would’ve been fine. Instead, she lost control again. Even worse, she was seconds from going even further.

“I’m leaving.”

30

Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi

Chapter 29 - A Date With Rachel

She’d seen her go in. She was inside the diner. All Rachel needed to do was wait and she’d come out, that would be her chance. The day started normal enough, aside from Leah’s further absurdity in the breast department, with Gretchen demanding she hang out. With most of the original group gone, turned to lesbians and enamoured with Carmen it seemed, the queen bee kept Rachel close, as if she’d turn. And, in truth, she wasn’t wrong.


For weeks, Rachel had observed Carmen. Ever since Dakota started following her, then more so after Mary joined them. Now Zoey and Ashley were part of that group. But what connected them beyond Carmen? It could be that the honour student was responsible. She certainly had the beauty to turn straight women gay, among other things. Rachel already had an eye for women.

“Come on already,” Rachel said under her breath. She sat on a couch in the middle of the mall, facing her sister’s workplace, where Carmen had disappeared an hour ago. Occasional glimpses of Leah were all she got, and each time it seemed her sister had gotten bigger. That was ridiculous. Day by day growth, sure, spurts like that weren’t uncommon for an indulgent woman like Leah, but minutes was insane. Yet her eyes said exactly that. It didn’t make sense.

Her leg bounced in place without rhythm. Gretchen had taken off in favour of a random guy, leaving her to watch in solitude. Ideal, if not for how long Carmen was taking. She just needed to come out, then Rachel could follow her and maybe find out something. Like if she was single. The redheads cheeks boiled to the same colour of her hair and she shook the thought loose.

No chance. If she tried and managed to annoy Carmen, then what would happened. What did that matter? Everyone that angered Carmen ended up as her friend, so it was a win-win. Rachel ruffled her hair, as if that would loosen the thoughts. She had to know how Carmen did it first. Then maybe…

The café door swung open and a pair of breasts wobbled out. Rachel forced her eyes upward and saw Carmen’s face, tight and clammy, as if she’d been embarrassed, or did something unlawful. The redhead cast her head down, watching behind a veil of hair as her target walked past. A little down the way, she sat and hung her head. She put a bag down at her side, a hint of black over the edge.

Rachel crept toward her. The girl was muttering something indistinct to herself, though it sounded like she was in conversation, yet her phone was nowhere to be seen. Being the best student must take its toll, Rachel thought and stopped a few feet away. While Carmen engrossed herself in whatever she was saying, the redhead shuffled closer.

It’d been a week since she last had a good look at Carmen, and she’d grown. Just like Leah, the arch of her butt pronounced further than Rachel recalled, and even the swell of her breasts came into view from behind. Any other person’s chest would be obscured. Yet her body seemed effortless, like her voluptuousness was ingrained in her genes. Not like Gretchen or Mary, whose curves seemed to obtrude on every little thing. And Carmen’s must be natural from how they moved.

“I shouldn’t have listened to you,” Carmen said and pinched her brow. Rachel stopped within arms reach of the bag and, when Carmen turned away, as if focused on something else, she slipped the book out. She’d seen it before, always close to the busty student. Must be a diary, which meant the secret she needed was inside. She opened it to the middle and found empty rows. Only the first few pages had anything on them.

Dakota Weiss: Grows a 7’’ cock with proportionate girth and balls. Will go to the girl’s restroom and wait there for Carmen Robins. When Carmen arrives, Dakota will be wholly subservient. When Carmen leaves, Dakota will forget everything about the encounter.

“What the fuck?” Rachel said. A quick scan further down the page showed Mary and Ashley’s names as well, with longer paragraphs attached. On the second was Leah’s.

“Give it back!” Carmen snatched the book away and stood, note clutched to her chest.

“Relax, I don’t care about your stupid fetish diary,” Rachel rolled her eyes and also stood, “But I think someone else might. Zoey and Ashley would probably be a little freaked out by it. Oh and Gretchen will get a kick of it.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Carmen said, dark eyes fuming, “Or…”

“Or what? You’ll turn me into one of your flunkies? Do that and I guarantee word will get out. What would colleges think of a honour student with this fucked up fetish?”

“What do you want?” Carmen groaned, eyeing the book and Rachel, as if judging something. Frustration clouded her otherwise pretty features, pulling them tighter, yet her lips pursed together and enticed Rachel. She could just imagine them on her own. They looked soft, not like Gretchen’s injections. Kissing her, being enveloped in those breasts, hands overflowing with ass, and the feel of her heat… No, Rachel needed to know what Carmen did to Zoey and the others.

“A date,” Rachel blurted. That was stupid! Forget their being on opposite ends of the social hierarchy, Carmen had her beat in every conceivable way. She towered over Rachel, breasts several times the size of her own, casting their shadow like great mountains at sunrise. They were opposites, plain as day. And that made it better.

“A what?” Carmen asked and blinked at the petite girl. Rachel cleared her throat and firmed her stance. Too late to back out.

“You are going to take me on a date. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”

“I… okay?” Carmen said, dazed by the demand. She must’ve expected something different, a ransom or servitude at least. If she’d been discovered by Gretchen, that would be true and probably worse. For what felt like minutes, she gawked at Rachel, looking up and down as if trying to understand some unknown factor. Her gaze pierced everything, like it saw past Rachel’s clothes.

“Stop staring,” Rachel said. She turned her head to hide a blush, “I’ll pick you up at eight. Got it?” Not waiting for a reply, she strode away. The exit was in Carmen’s direction, but she didn’t trust herself to stay around her. Even hanging around that girl seemed dangerous. It wasn’t just her appearance, but her smell was intoxicating. What perfume did she use? She’d find out tonight. Oh god, why didn’t she say tomorrow? She needed to clean up. The bus had better be on time.

Rachel showered once she got home. Under the stream of water, her nerves gave out and realisation dawned on her. She was going on a date. With the hottest girl she’d seen, much less knew. A girl. Back in middle school, she’d gone out with a few guys, mostly older ones interested in being with a younger looking girl, but never another woman. It had been a fantasy for years now, since she met Zoey. Now it was coming true with someone else.

Once she finished cleaning, Rachel sat in her bed. A sketchbook was splayed before her, pencil hovering without purpose. Drawing calmed her down most days. She could focus on making lines, whether they joined into a picture or not didn’t really matter. Just start something, she thought and forced her hand to move. It could come out as mindless scribbles for all she cared. Half an hour later and she was faced with a decent sketch of Carmen.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” Rachel chucked the book aside. For days now, it was Carmen, Carmen, Carmen. She couldn’t get the bitch out of her head, and the looming date didn’t help at all. What was she really like? Did she even like girls? No, of course she did. Rachel had seen the way she looked around the school, always with an eye of restrained desire. Always restrained. What would she be like unleashed?

Rachel’s mind deserted her, wandering into fantasies she’d rather forget. One took the forefront, a vivid portrait of Carmen, clad in latex that poured over her curves like black oil, dipping between her legs to bring into light a trimmed bush and tidy vulva, one that hid its secrets well. She thought back to that book, to Carmen’s apparent fetish for girls with dicks. It wasn’t new, they’d been around since the eighties, but it stirred Rachel’s own lust. She envisioned Carmen’s clit growing, thickening into a slab of cock-meat that would split her apart if she wasn’t careful.

“Fuck it, might as well deal with this now.” Rachel’s hand inched to her pussy, its heat pouring down her legs.

“Rachel?!” Her door slammed open and Leah’s beaming face shot through, “Why didn’t you tell me you got a date? We’ve gotta get you ready. I already talked to Carmen and told her what foods you like, but we need to pick something out. You’ve got to look good for this one.”

“It’s fine, really, Leah,” Rachel said, groaning as she ignored the simmer of arousal between her legs. She looked at her sister, frowning. Did she look different? No, not really. Maybe her breasts were fuller, but not much else. The bottom pair could use a milking, which she’d get roped into helping with. Again.

“Come on, it’s not everyday you land a babe like that.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Rachel sighed and got up. It couldn’t hurt to dress up for once. Finally, an excuse to wear that choker she got for Christmas.

Carmen stared at the spot Rachel had vacated. That hadn’t happened. It couldn’t have. That had been the perfect chance to ruin Carmen’s reputation, to break her little group and even blackmail her. Yet, all that tiny girl wanted was a date. She was cute. If things were different, Carmen might’ve gone for her regardless, but since Stacy, small busted girls didn’t fulfil her the same way. Then again, short girls might be fun. She had looked huge compared to Rachel.

“Oh, looks like someone’s got a thing for short girls too. Give her a pair of big, milky titties and she’d be perfect, wouldn’t you say?” Ryuka said and giggled.

“Don’t, just… don’t.” Carmen didn’t need an erection atop her concerns. She sat back down and put the book away. Until Rachel spoke up, she’d been thinking of how best to use it on her, ready to steal the girl’s free will if it meant preserving whatever happiness she had. It wasn’t just being discredited, but if someone looked into it and found out about the others, they’d know the book was real. Medical records would attest to their being born as pure females.

“I’m an idiot,” Carmen said and took it back in hand. That risk was easily mitigated. If the book could manipulate people’s minds to ignore Leah’s dishevelled state, which said a lot as she’d left with an erection bobbing ahead of her, then it could do the same for the others, “I wonder… can I write in the rules section?”

“I’m not sure. No one’s tried,” Ryuka said.

“Isn’t this thing several millennia old?”

“Yes, and Seikogami aren’t very imaginative. You’re free to give it a try.

Carmen shook her head and turned to the rules. They ended with just enough space for her to write; All changes within this book will seem natural, only Carmen Robins and specified individuals will know the truth. As a precaution, she left space for other names to be added, though she wouldn’t know if the ruling worked until a chance came along.

“Hey,” a familiar drawling voice said. She looked up to see a very different Leah grinning down, “You’re Carmen, right? You go to school with my sister, Rachel.”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Carmen gulped. She hadn’t left the café that long ago, yet Leah had undergone some drastic changes. Her eyes were separate colours, the pupils elongated like a lizards, while her nose had gained several piercings, her ears were gone, relocated and transformed into dog ears. More so, her breasts were popping out her shirt, squeezed tight between the tortured garment. Her pants were too short. She’d grown into an Amazon it seemed and no one was concerned by it. Like the shameful display was natural. So the added ruling had worked.

“Sorry about this,” Leah said and leaned back, highlighting just how enormous she’d grown in the past twenty minutes. Her hips had to be double the width of her shoulders. Droplets of milk escaped her shirt, over a dozen fat nipples strained it further, “I usually get some time off to milk myself, but things were hectic. Anyway, what were you and Rachel talking about?”

No one even batted an eye at Leah’s cock, which swung between her legs in a constant semi. It had turned a mottled black and pink, with a flat, bulging head nestled into a wrinkly sheath. The balls had multiplied too. And not only that, but the girl’s belly, what little was visible between her four pairs of breasts, had turned a pink colour with four nubs hanging off it. Carmen had to swallow, lest she start drooling. A pair of horns peeked through Leah’s rainbow bouquet of hair. The sound of dripping brought her eye low and she saw clear ropes of pussy juice falling.

If given the chance, she would’ve changed even further. More breasts perhaps, a second udder, more nipples, pussies in the palms of her hands, duplicate cocks, even a second body like a cow’s for even more milk, and… Carmen shut the thoughts out at the moaning snicker from Ryuka.

“Uh, she… she, uh, asked me out,” Carmen said, trying to keep the images restrained.

“Huh, always thought she was gay. Well? What’d you say?”

“Yes?” Carmen hadn’t a choice in the matter, not one that didn’t involve turning Rachel into a futa.

“That’s great! Rachel’s needs a friend right now. She and Zoey haven’t been hanging out lately, and Gretchen’s fucking awful. Hey, want some advice? I know exactly where you can take her,” Leah said, quivering in excitement, which made her curves jiggle as well. What did her milk taste like? Stacy’s had been almost too sweet and thick, like a heavy cream.

“Y-yeah, sure. Thanks,” Carmen said, turning her eyes onto a lump of gum on the floor.

“Give me your number and I’ll text you some bits. I’ve gotta get back to work in a minute.”

Carmen recited her number without error. Then, with a quick test text, Leah was gone. Her ass bounced with every step, a mountain of jell-o that struggled through the café door. Once she was out of sight, Carmen erased the addition on her entry. She couldn’t risk something worse coming of it. How long before someone turned Leah into a human-Godzilla-cow hybrid?

“Aww, that’s no fun,” Ryuka said, pouting.

“It was just a test, and it worked. Besides, she’ll keep growing,” Carmen said and, though hesitant, amended the catalyst. Milk was no longer the sole cause of growth. Anything with dairy would grow her breasts. Leah had exploded in size in just a couple of weeks. With the added change, she would be massive before long.

“You’re coming around,” Ryuka hugged her, “So, when will you use it on that Rachel girl? Imagine someone that small with tits bigger than her sister’s.”

“I’m not. Well, not yet. I need to see where this… oh god, I’ve got a date. Tonight. Shit, what the fuck do I do?”

“Just fuck her. Isn’t that what dating is for?”

“Yes. No! Ugh, dates are meant to be fun. People get to know each other on them,” Carmen stared at her crotch, acutely aware of the masculine flesh contained in her sodden panties.

“I see, but most people aren’t futanari with a book of unlimited power. You could go out, have some fun, then fuck her brains out.”

“Please, just shut up. This is stressful enough. I barely even know her.”

“You just said that’s what dating is for.”

“I know, but I mean I don’t know anything about her to talk about. I know her name, her sister’s name and that she was friends with Zoey - fuck, she probably hates me for that. This is gonna be terrible.” Carmen hung her head, then started at her phone’s vibration. It was Leah, telling her about a nearby arcade and restaurant. Just one night, Carmen thought. She could handle that. She had to. If she could convince Rachel to keep the book a secret, then the day would be an all around success.

Back home, dread stacked atop itself in her stomach. It built up as bile trying to escape her mouth and refused to be silent. Carmen took deep breaths, tried to shut out everything but tranquillity, and focus something else, yet anxiety poked and prodded at her defences. She wasn’t even over Stacy yet, and dating her had been so easy, like any other day spent with her former boss. Rachel despised her, she must do. What could they even talk about? Gretchen? No, there had to be something better.

For hours she thought but an answer never came. Eight o’clock ticked into place and, right on time, someone knocked on the door. Carmen groaned, unease roiling in her stomach, and checked her clothes. Under the Futa Note’s influence, nothing she owned covered enough. The best she found was a dress shirt that couldn’t close over the top inches of her breasts, and a pair of formal pants tight enough to be mistaken for leggings. She bound her chest in medical tape, hoping it would diminish their presence, and did the same to her penis.

“Carmen! A pretty girl’s at the door!” Melody called. Their mother was out for the night, meeting with friends for the first time in months.

“I know. I know. I’m coming down,” Carmen said, took a final breath, and departed. Rachel stood in the foyer, looking around in a daze at the quaint home, like she expected something grander.

“I thought you guys were mega rich,” Rachel said, “How come this place is so… plain?”

“We wanted it that way,” Carmen said, “And we’re not that rich.”

“Sure,” Rachel tore her gaze from the décor to look over her date, as did Carmen, “Wow.”

“You look…”

“Nice?” Rachel supplied, flushing bright as she toyed with the hem of her skirt. Reminiscent of formal punk attire, she wore a loose, sky blue shirt underneath a thick, leather jacket that ended at her waist, which puffed out into her dress. Thigh-high leggings stretched beneath the garment. Black eye liner and thick lashes framed her green irises, and her lips were a tasteful ruby. A dark choker was around her neck, matched by wristbands and a simple ring.

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded.

“You too. Masculinity suits you,” Rachel said and giggled at Carmen’s blush. She has no idea, Carmen thought and shifted her weight, feeling her balls snag in her panties.

“Dresses don’t really flatter me,” Carmen said in excuse. It was true. The only dress she owned ended halfway to her knees due to her ass and hips raising it, not to mention the miles of cleavage it showed off.

“I’m not complaining. So, what’s the plan?” Rachel asked, “My sister offered to drive us wherever, so it’s your call, really.”

“Hold on, this whole thing was your idea,” Carmen said.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d agree to it. I mean, hotter girls than me have tried, haven’t they?”

“Uh, well…”

“It’s okay. I’m short, flat and not exactly super cute either,” Rachel stated.

“No, you’re definitely cute,” Carmen blurted and clamped her lips shut, “Uh, let’s go to the… arcade?”

“Sure,” Rachel said, hair blending into her face now, “Sounds good.”

Carmen contrasted the place from the first step. It was a typical arcade, booths and games set up all around, laughter and banter circulating between them. Rachel suited the place, like a dainty princess of gamers, while Carmen’s formality and excessive curves made for a ridiculous match. With her height, she must’ve looked like a babysitter looking after a child. Rachel pulled her along, familiar with the layout, and found a two-player driving game.

“Come on, I’ll show you the ropes.”

“Okay,” Carmen climbed into the leather seat, the indent of several other posteriors drowning under her own.

“Just try keeping up and it’ll be fine,” Rachel said, “It’s only a racing game.”

“Okay, sure.” Carmen doubted it’d go well. She hadn’t touched a video game since her dad passed away, and that was on an old knock-off console. This wasn’t her place to be, but Rachel looked excited, bouncing in her own chair like a child. So she likes games, Carmen noted, then the race began. Vibrations started all around her and she grabbed the wheel. Lights and sounds flashed at her from all angles, near-real graphics sped in front of her eyes. A tremor of excitement worked through her. Then she crashed.

“Wow, you suck at this,” Rachel snickered when the race was finished. Carmen came in last.

“I’ve never played it before,” Carmen huffed, frustrated at her performance.

“It’s literally just a racing game. You must’ve played them before,” Rachel said with an eye roll.

“No. The last game I played was one of those Mario games or something.”

“What the fuck have you been doing with your life?” Rachel asked, deadpan.

“Trying to get my sister a better life,” Carmen growled.

“Why? You’re wealthy as fuck.”

Carmen frowned for a second, then recalled the rule she’d put in place. As far as anyone but herself knew, her family was always well off.

“No reason. I just spent my time studying, and, uh, dealing with this,” Carmen said, gesturing to her body, “A-anyway, what about another try? I’ll get the hang of it.”

Rachel shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll thrash you any time.” They raced again and again. Carmen rose through the positions, figuring controls out as she went. Though her wealth of intellect came from diligence, she had a fast mind, and body too it seemed. By the fifth race, she was neck and neck with Rachel, a self-proclaimed pro.  The feedback was surprisingly realistic, given her few times behind a wheel with Stacy. Perhaps that gave her an advantage as she drifted past the redhead and into first.

“Holy shit, you actually beat me,” Rachel said, eyeing her with a challengers grin, “Let’s try some other games.”

Anything with a physical need gave Carmen the immediate advantage. She hadn’t worked out a day in her life, yet the notebook honed her body into the prime example of a woman. Reflexes, stamina, strength, it all surpassed anything she would’ve expected. Games that used fingers and knowledge took her time, but she managed. Rachel still kept the edge in most situations, but Carmen kept up.

“So much for ‘never played a game in my life’,” Rachel said and slurped on her soda.

“I’m a fast learner, but you’re incredible. I didn’t think games could be that hard,” Carmen said. They’d moved to a family friendly bar shoved into the side, taking sips and snacking on a platter of fries.

“Years of practice,” Rachel grinned, “So, what do you do for fun anyway?”

“I, uh… nothing, really,” Carmen studied her drink, looking for an answer. Fun? For years, whether anyone else remembered or not, she’d done nothing but study and work and care for Melody. The occasional orgasm or break with Stacy had been the nearest thing to fun she’d had. Now, she supposed masturbation was the closest. Not that she’d tell Rachel.

“You must do something. What about Zoey?” Rachel said, voice hardening on the girl’s name, “You guys hang out, don’t you?”

“Yeah, kind of. I get invited out sometimes.” Carmen was careful, all but feeling the tension that simmered under Rachel’s plain expression.

“How’s she doing anyway?” Rachel sounded bitter.

“She’s fine,” Carmen said and turned away, “Maybe a little preoccupied with something. I don’t know what.”

“So, you’re not doing anything with her, then?”

“No.”

“Why not? She’s great, physical hotness aside. And I’ve seen how she looks at you. Isn’t that why she’s always around you now?”

“It’s not that. She…”

“I haven’t talked to her in months because of you,” Rachel cut in, “I can’t even say ‘hi’ at school, otherwise Gretchen throws a tantrum. And Zoey’s just… happy. Without me. What the fuck do you have that I can’t give her? You don’t kiss or anything, so you’re clearly not together. I’d do anything for her, but she ignored me for you. You stole her and… and that’s it. I could take it if she was fucking you or something but there’s nothing. So you want to tell me why that is?”

Carmen bounced her leg and wished to be anywhere else. This was exactly what she’d dreaded, having to explain the Futa Note’s effects, without revealing what it actually was. Words twisted over in her head, each one sounded wrong, and every sentence would just make it worse. Rachel glowered at her, lips pursed tight and emerald eyes hard as the jewels they embodied.

“I helped her,” Carmen said after a sullen silence, “You knew she wasn’t happy, but you kept her tied to Gretchen.”

“It was for her own good. Now look at her; the butt of everyone’s joke. The only reason Gretchen hasn’t gotten her expelled is because she’s a star athlete.”

“But she’s happy. You said that yourself. I pushed her to that point,” Carmen said, careful with the information she revealed, “She’s got real friends other than you now. I helped her, plain and simple. And there’s nothing to stop you from being with her. If Gretchen doesn’t like it, fuck her.”

“Huh?” Rachel blinked.

“I’m not running some exclusive club. Things just worked out that I have a group of friends now, not like anyone else can’t come and hang out too.”

“No, not that, it’s just… I can’t believe your swore. I never thought I’d hear anything more than ‘crap’ from you. But yeah, I hadn’t thought of that,” Rachel said and laughed. She leaned her head on the table, “I’m a fucking idiot. You know, I thought you were some witch or something putting people under a spell or some shit like that.”

“Yeah. Like that,” Carmen chuckled.

“Sorry about making you do this,” Rachel righted her posture, “I mean, I’m not. It’s been pretty fun.”

“It’s okay. I actually enjoyed myself too,” Carmen said, and relaxed. The worst was over, and easier than she expected. Rachel was smiling. She really did look cute, especially when she was focused on something. Her lips would purse and pout like ripe strawberries. The illusion was helped by the shampoo she used.

“So, hey, how about one last game, then we’ll take off?” Rachel said.

“Yeah. What game?” Rachel’s smirk almost unnerved her.

“Hoops.”

The game was simple. Shoot a basketball from the three-point line and get the higher score. Rachel had a clear disadvantage, yet she looked more excited after every failed shot. Carmen succeeded more often after the first few tries, correcting herself little by little. She caught the rebound and took her position. It was pointless, being several shots ahead on the final try.

“Simply divine,” Rachel said from the sideline, beaming as Carmen readied her shot.

“What?” Carmen looked to her, then realised the goal of this game for Rachel. Winning didn’t matter, but watching Carmen did. She took her final shot, blushing as her breasts and ass bounced with her jump, and won.

“Did you seriously just want to watch my boobs jiggle?” Carmen asked once she got her prize tickets.

“Duh. I suck at basketball,” Rachel said with a pure grin, “But that was great.”

“You’re a little pervert, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Rachel chuckled.

“Maybe?” Carmen teased, “You were drooling over me every time I jumped. Look,” Carmen did a small bounce, and caught Rachel’s gaze instantly. Not for the jiggle, or teasing, but the sudden rip of tape. The far taller girl stared at herself, shocked by the size of her breasts once freed. They filled out her shirt and bulged through the openings, stretching them into diamonds.

“Wow,” Rachel mouthed the word, then noticed the stares aimed at Carmen, “Come on.” She took the honour student’s hand and led her away, snapping at anyone that tried sneaking a peek.

“Thanks,” Carmen said, once they were away from public view.

“No problem,” Rachel said and tried looking anywhere but her chest, “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just wanted to avoid… that.” Carmen caught her breath and removed the torn tape.

“Leah’s on her way. One of her bras should fit you, and our place is pretty close. If you wanna come over.”

“I’ll be fine,” Carmen said, then her stomach growled. She’d forgotten about dinner in her nerves. At least Melody knew how to microwave leftovers, otherwise their mom would be livid.

“I can cook,” Rachel offered. Carmen bit her bottom lip, certain accepting would be a mistake, but she wasn’t sure the night needed to end just yet. They were having fun, and something in Rachel’s appreciation of her breasts seemed different to the others. Lust was there, yes, however appreciation seemed to fuel it more than blind desire. Who knew where the night would go?

“Okay, if it’s not too much trouble.”