I can't even tell you how much naughty fun I'm having writing this story. Too bad I won't be able to sell it on Amazon.
This is from the second book in my super-taboo Messy Futanari Mommy Tales series, called Wet Messy Futa Roadtrip, and it's now available.
Tabitha has decided to become a futanari, just like her mom, who's she's been (literally) banging the shit out of. The Futanari Transform Institute sends in a couple of hot futanari drivers and a specially modified van to transport them to the FTI.
An hour or so later, there was simultaneously a polite little honk outside as both our phones updated with texts announcing the Futanari Transform Institute driver’s arrival. Mom buzzed them into the gate as I looked out the window. A discreet, unmarked white van pulled up into the circular driveway. The door opened and two women emerged who were so beautiful I bugged my eyes out and my jaw dropped like a cartoon character. One was blonde with pale skin and the other had dyed her hair green and turquoise, and had a slightly more olive complexion. They each wore white Tyvek one-piece jumpers that snapped down the front and then about halfway down one thigh. On each right breast was the FTI logo, a stylized combination of the symbols for male and female, bisected by a DNA helix combined with the classic medical cadecus.
Neither FTI representative had their uniforms buttoned up all the way, though. In fact, they were undone to a scandalous amount, revealing their extremely generous cleavage and perfect bodies. But what really caught my attention were the unmistakable bulges between their legs. Aside from my own mother, these girls would be the first real futanari I had ever met in person. I hadn’t really thought that much about how I looked, and most of the time I adopted a sort of “slouchy lesbian” look that made me look like I had raided some dude’s closet. I felt a little “schleppy” before their practiced and professional appearance.
“Hi, I’m Vix and this is Mandy, and we’re from the FTI. Are you Tabitha Johansson, our new transform guest?”
“Yes, hi,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward and shy, “You can call me Tabs for short.”
“Aw, that’s so cute,” the blonde said, “Vix is short for Vicky,” she pointed at herself and laughed, making her chest move around in all kinds of wonderful ways.
“Hi, girls, nice to meet you!” said Mom from behind me.
“Hi, you must be Charlene? Tabitha’s mother?” said Mandy, the green-haired one.
“Yes, I am.”
“Cool!” said Mandy, “When I was a kid I loved seeing you on the covers of all the fashion magazines. It’s so cool that you’re a futa, now! You’re so beautiful!”
Mom waved away the compliment with a practiced false modesty, “That’s so kind of you to say,” she said. I knew my mom well enough to know she felt flattered and annoyed at the same time. Flattered by the compliment, annoyed by the ‘when I was a kid’ part because that made her feel old. Mandy may not have been able to see it in her face, but I could.
“All right, well, we don’t want to keep Dr. Gentry waiting, so let’s get your bags and get comfy in the van,” said Vix, with professional cheer. She reached out for my luggage and Mandy grabbed Mom’s and we all stepped out to the van in a line. Mom closed the front door and locked it.
Mandy climbed up the ladder on the back of the van and that’s when I noticed the boots she and Vix wore: they were white vinyl combat boots that went with their uniforms perfectly. Vix opened up the luggage rack on top of the van and Mandy began handing up to her our luggage.
“Why don’t we just put the luggage inside the van?” I asked, “I’m sure there will be enough room.” Mandy and Vix looked at each other and laughed.
“You’ll see!” Vix said so cheerfully, I couldn’t possibly be miffed by them laughing at me.
After the luggage was loaded up top and the cargo box’s lid closed and locked, Vix slid open the van’s side door with a flourish, as though she were a game show hostess, and for the second time inside of ten minutes, my jaw dropped and my eyes widened.
“The fuck…?” I said.
Mom looked perplexed, as well. “I… don’t get it,” she said.
The van’s interior was covered in waterproof padding. Inside was a captain’s chair with what was clearly a vibrating dildo sticking up out of its seat. The chair had a full harness to hold in its occupant. The back half of the van contained a bed, designed to be able to withstand a lot of… fluids, shall we say, spilled on it. But the weirdest of all were the strange pieces of equipment. Large hollow cylinders with wires and hoses coming out of them at one end were connected to what looked like an industrial shopvac.
“You didn’t think a boring ride in a normal vehicle was how a sex-crazed futanari is supposed to travel, did you?” asked Vix brightly.
“Welcome to the futanari fuckmobile,” said Mandy, "Strap in, bitches, it’s gonna be a wild ride!”
I looked at Mom, she looked at me, and we both laughed.
If you're not washing your eyes out with bleach and you actually liked what you just read, be sure to get the first book in the series: My Mom's a Hot Messy Futa.
Glad you enjoyed! I'm writing it right now, so back to it I go.
ReplyDeleteSounds like they're about to have a lot of fun!
ReplyDeleteThey are, and so am I.
Delete