A Condom Big Enough for a Futa Ch. 05

Feeling encouraged, Victoria began to undress.

Kicking off her sandals first, the futa noticed as she did that there were several pairs of heels under the numerous hangers holding all the lingerie They matched the sets above them in color and looked to be her in size as well; Victoria didn't have much experience wearing that kind of shoe, but that wasn't about to deter her. Lowering the straps of her dress off of her shoulders, she was happy that her choice in clothing wouldn't mess with her hair when it was removed, and she stepped out of the bright yellow garment as soon as it piled at her feet. Picking it up, she folded it and tossed it onto the bench next to her. Her compression shorts were a bit more complicated to take off, all the straps and buckles needing unfastening first before it could be removed. Victoria struggled for a minute with the overly-complicated cock-container, but the thought of never having to wear something like it again helped save her from the usual frustration. Chucking it onto the bench next to her dress, she stepped in front of the mirror fully naked.

Now was the time to hype herself before she got changed, to remind herself that she was chosen for a reason. Victoria had never thought of herself as not attractive, but it also wasn't something she gave an extensive amount of consideration these days; if there was ever a time to consider it though, it was at this moment. Her face and hair were already as gorgeous as she'd ever seen them, and luckily her body hadn't needed any touching up. The young futa had always been blessed with large, firm breasts, capped with small pink nipples, that, in her opinion, looked nice and suckable - not that her lovers ever gave that part of her any attention. She was undoubtedly muscular, hardly an ounce of extra fat appearing anywhere on her like she was cutting for some kind of bodybuilding competition, possessing all the right muscles in all the right places. This only added to her naturally intimidating aura, her feminine curves framed by her bulging bulk making her a standout amongst her peers.

Victoria had to admit it: she was hot.

If her unnaturally built body wasn't enough to attract any would-be fucktoys, her cock and balls would be enough to seal the deal. Like it had for months now, her dick slumped down to the dark-carpeted floor, several inches of shaft looping in on itself above her giant, pulsating glans. Her shaft was as tan as she used to be, covered in an uncountable amount of veins, hanging heavily from her groin, taking up nearly all the space on its flat surface. Behind her were her bulbous testicles, massive and corpulent, constantly consumed by a dull throb she could feel at all times against her thighs, aching for a steady stream of releases, never satiated. She rarely ever got tired of admiring her junk like this, often looking at it during sex rather than whoever she was fucking. While her genitalia had grown in time with the rest of her body for unclear reasons, Victoria wasn't necessarily mad at this development, but it didn't stop her from wondering why it was occurring.

But that didn't matter right now.

What did was that she looked great! She was beautiful! She was sexy! She was strong! Victoria was everything you could ask for in a futanari model, her oversized-junk just the cherry on top. Everyone would be wowed by her beauty, her excessive appearance, and her undeniable sex appeal. This is the body and the face that would be on magazines and websites and posters. Other futanari would look up to her, want to be her, and she would gladly lead the charge for her fellow third-sexed citizens of the world. No longer would people like her be treated differently, considered freaks of nature, made to be outcasts in a society unable to handle them. And this was just the first step. This fashion show, an event that would be written about for years to come was the leap needed to help futanari everywhere!

Beaming at herself and the shining future awaiting her, Victoria spun around and made her way to the rack of lingerie. Ignoring all but the largest of sizes of genital-grabbing garments, she gently removed a black, lacey bra, one she felt matched her personality the best, and put it on. It fastened like any other bra, and as she expected, fit her breasts perfectly; after clasping the hooks behind her back, she bounced over to the mirror again, wanting to check herself out. It looked great on her, contrasting against her pale skin beautifully - if she wasn't a futa, she could easily be a regular model. Turning back and forth, she admired the way the straps hugged her traps and delts, and how she could see a hint of her nipples and small areolas through the lace. Puffing her chest out at herself, testing the durability of the garment, she gave herself another wide grin before returning to the rack of clothes.

Gingerly taking the matching panties with their futanari-specialized modification off the hanger, she held it up in front of her face. Giving it some consideration before putting it on, Victoria tried to figure out the best way to actually get her genitalia into it. It looked like it slid on like normal underwear, just with the extra opening in the crotch for her cock and balls to hang out of, along with the sleeve and holders they went into. Maybe she had to sort of angle her package into the attachments when she was raising the article of clothing up her legs? She wasn't sure. The whole thing might've been a bit tricky to wear, but all that really mattered in the end was whether it fit or not!

Bending over, she carefully maneuvered the specially-made panties around the obstacle that consisted of her enormous cock and titanic testicles, which blocked any view she had of the lacey item. Moving by feel, she lifted a foot and yanked the underwear up until it seemed to snag around her ankle; she did the same with her other foot, hoping she hadn't accidentally stepped into the cock-sock section of it. Giving the whole thing a testing-pull to make sure her feet weren't in the wrong parts, she began to raise it up her legs, stopping when it was around her knees. Victoria could sort of see that the dick holster and ball-bra were touching the ground, between her toes, which let her know she was on the right track. Pushing her knees outwards so that the panties' leg holes were pulled tight against them, Victoria reached for the rest of it.

It was time for the hard part!

With one hand she lifted her shaft by the middle of it, lugging it off the ground, and with the other she attempted to situate the opening of the part meant for her dick under it; considering the panties were around her knees, she had to raise her cock up a good amount, folding it in on itself and pressing it against her stomach. In this awkward position that had Victoria basically hugging her own member while also trying to see over it and aim it correctly, all while hunched over, she did her best to lower her cock while also holding the panties out as far as they could go, giving herself as wide a berth as she could to fit her cockhead into the slot with - she would worry about her balls afterwards! It was best to take this process one step at a time anyway.

Her initial attempt was a complete failure, entirely missing the opening, her appendage slipping through her fingers and slamming into the ground. Trying her best to not get frustrated, she repeated her movements from before, pulling the panties even farther away from her legs this time, pushing their elasticity to the limits. Focusing hard, she lowered her cock once more, pointing it directly at the hole. She could feel the lace against her glans and exhaled loudly, having held her breath to keep herself steady. Now that her cock was in the right place, Victoria glided her hand across her monstrous length until it was pressed under the ridge of her crown, the rest of her dick bunched in her arm. With a determined push, she pressed her glans into the entrance to the cock-sock.

It didn't fit.

Body tensing, Victoria stared in dismay at the mismatched pairing: her cockhead was too big! The opening in the holster barely covered half of her glans, the edges of the garment snagging around her fleshy helmet. She had it stretched as far as it would go though! Did she grab the wrong pair? Looking over at the rack of lingerie, she studied each set: all of the biggest ones looked like they were the same size, the rest clearly smaller. Victoria glanced from the rack down to the panties around her knees, and then at her cock. How... how could they not fit!? They said they had all the sizes covered! Was she sent to the wrong room? Did they get the wrong information? Had Dr. Daley not provided them with the measurements for all the futanari in the study?

Swallowing loudly, Victoria let the too-small garment fall to the floor. Staring at nothing, her eyes unfocusing, she considered her choices. She could just try again, right? Maybe she had put it on wrong? If not, there were other pairs she could put on. Calling one of the assistants was an option made available to her, but what could they do? It's not like they could magically make the opening bigger! No, she would make it fit! One of these had to work, they just did. Bending down again, she tried to put the lingerie on once more, attempting this time to get her balls in their holders first, ignoring her cock for now. But they didn't fit either. Just one of her massive cum containers was bigger than both of the ball-bras put together, unable to pierce through the gap in the netting they were intended to. No matter how many different angles and positions she tried, she couldn't get it to work, the material not expansive or elastic enough to cover them.

Feeling a sense of panic well into her, Victoria kicked ill-fitting underwear to the side and frantically grabbed at another pair. Not bothering to change her bra, knowing it wasn't the problem, she tried to repeat the process with a red set - but they didn't fare any better. Tossing it to the side, she went through every single set of lingerie available to her, even trying on the smaller sized sets. Piece after piece failed to contain her hyper-proportioned endowment, each one discarded until there was a pile of expensive underwear in the corner of the room, until the only garments left on the hangers were the bras. Thousands of dollars of custom-made lingerie were heaped carelessly next to her, each set woefully inadequate at even beginning to contain what she had to offer.

Whole body flush, Victoria tapped her foot rapidly on the ground and chewed at her nails. Her eyes constantly darted towards the discarded panties and then back at the mirror in front of her. Mind racing with ways to get around this problem, she began to shake as nothing came to her immediately. Did she dare try again? Could it just be her nerves that were causing her to fail? Was there some kind of obvious velcro or tie to make the openings bigger that she had missed? No, she had inspected each one as much as she could, and they were all the same except for the size difference, which didn't end up mattering when it came to her. Gritting her teeth, she bent over and rummaged through the hill of lingerie one more time.

Grabbing the initial pair once more, her hands shaking even harder, she tried them on one last time. Her already-lacking patience nearly completely diminished, she stepped into them quickly, missing the leg hole openings several times before finding any success. As she attempted to fit her cockhead into the sleeve again, tugging and yanking on it for all it was worth, it looked like the opening was going to finally stretch wide enough. Yes! Success! Finally! Giving it one last tug, the one that would be needed to accomplish the goal she had almost given up on, the material finally gave out, fibers and stitches snapping in several places. The ruined garment slipped from her fingers and onto the floor.

When it broke, so did Victoria's hopes and dreams.

Everything around her shattered. The image she had built in her mind of herself living a life of glitz and glamor? Gone. The fantasy of walking down runways across the world, admired by all? Gone. The dreams of being a role model and international sex symbol? Gone. It was all gone. She had spent the past several weeks feeling happier and more excited for her future than she ever had in her life and for what? Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! None of it mattered, none of this mattered. They had tricked her, all but promised her a career that would alter her existence permanently, only to pull the wool back over her eyes and remind her that she wasn't meant for this. Victoria was not born for an easy time in this world, and now she knew that for sure.

How could she let herself be fooled so easily? Trust the word of strangers in an industry that chewed up young women only to spit them out when they got too old? Become dazzled by the prospect of earning a way of living that so few achieved? She had practically planned out the next twenty years of her life, spending hours upon hours mapping out every aspect of her career, practicing giving interviews when she was alone. Being on television, the internet, in magazines - she had gone through it all in her brain. It didn't matter that this was such a sudden development in her life, it had a strong effect on her nonetheless. The thought had made her so happy she had felt normal for the first time in, in, in...!?

Like a caged lion she paced back and forth over and over again in the small room. Feet carelessly kicking whatever they came into contact with, her body brushing against the table and the now half-empty rack of clothing, her cock dragging between her legs like a misplaced tail, Victoria's entire body felt deflated. Her arms were slack at her sides, her chin pressed into her chest, eyes lidded over, she moved aimlessly; even her brain felt like it was turned off, no thoughts except for ones of despair and anguish filling the few corners of it still active. Stopping suddenly in front of the mirror, she looked at her reflection like she had on that day before the interview, looking better and more professional than she ever had, her eyes watering. Victoria wasn't sure she'd ever felt so defeated, completely beaten into the dirt and tossed out with the trash - at least not since...

A certain memory brought out an unbridled anger that rarely accosted her.

Coming back to reality, Victoria's face a mask of building rage barely kept in check, she looked down at her cock. This fucking grotesque, unsightly growth sticking from her crotch. It brought her so much trouble throughout her God damn life, ever since she was a teenager, and no amount of pleasure it also gave her could ever make up for all the difficulties. If it was more normal sized - average for a futanari at least - or even non-existent at all, none of this would have happened! Her life... her life would be so much better. Would have been so much better. Everything could have been different!

What would she have been like if she wasn't controlled by her libido? If this stupid fucking thing didn't guide her every decision - including this one, if she was being honest with herself - where would she be by now? The whole reason she had even considered going to the interview in the first place was to achieve some sense of normalcy, something she had never had. To make this horrible existence easier. Just as quickly as it had propelled her into doing its will, its bidding, it crushed any hope of her accomplishing anything. The proof of that was at her feet, the tattered remnants of what could have been. And her cock was right there on top of it, like it was showing off that it had destroyed yet another opportunity for its owner.

She wanted to punch it, to strike it down like an enemy that could be beaten. Wrap her arms around the shaft and strangle the life out of it, as if such a thing were possible. Tear it off of her and stomp on it until it didn't exist anymore. Even in its dormant state it looked like it was mocking her, rumbling in its place, waiting to be used - to be unleashed upon some poor, unsuspecting soul. Waiting to fatten, lengthen and reach its tremendous true size so that it could wreak havoc on her surroundings. Waiting to grow and grow and grow and grow like it never stopped doing! Every few seconds its cumslit would briefly gape open, before closing again, whispering silent commands that only Victoria could hear. Dominate. Fuck. Cum. Urging her to lose control, to do what she was born to do.

Almost on cue, Victoria could feel that stirring in her loins. Like she had come to realize, her anger and libido seemed to be inherently connected, as if one couldn't exist without the other. Her balls began to rumble, automatically understanding what rage meant for the oversexed futanari, and her cock lurched slightly, slithering across the floor like a snake in search of prey, mashing the ruined lingerie into the carpet. She tried her best to hold it back, her temper-fueled lust, but her mind was quickly becoming cloudy. Replaced was the maudlin sense of self-loathing, giving way to her number one most prominent emotion. Her desire to burst into a sorrowful display of waterworks gave way to a contorted grimace, her fists clenching at her side, her teeth bared in a strained grit.

Then, a devilish smile.

Acting on that specific instinct she had little control over, Victoria wiped at her eyes then turned around and slammed her hand down on the buzzer; a distinct ringing called out from the other side of the doorway. Victoria grabbed a pair of the discarded panties from the ground, a non-destroyed pair, and stood in front of the now-empty rack with her back turned towards the door. Closing her eyes, she listened for the sound of approaching footsteps, her grin growing at the telltale pitter-patter of feet on carpet came nearer. It was followed by a hesitant knock on the door, and Victoria turned her head to look towards the source of the noise.

"Come in."

Her voice was neither cheery nor was it welcoming - predatory was the best way to describe her tone. But it didn't matter, the assistants were here to be at her beck and call. Speaking of, a male underling of Dolores's slipped into the changing room, closing the door behind him to maintain the model he had been summoned to aid's privacy. He was pretty thin looking, which could be expected of someone working in the fashion industry, his wiry frame covered by a black turtleneck and a pair of form-hugging jeans like he was some kind of twink version of Steve Jobs - in fact, she recognized him as the one who'd taken her name in front of the elevators before her interview, one she'd seen roaming around the stylist-strewn area. His outfit was basically the same as it had been on that day. Looking up at her from behind thick-rimmed glasses and a swoosh of stylishly cut brown hair, noticeably shorter than Victoria was, he waited for her to speak first before he cleared his throat.

"Uh hello, did you need help with something?"

"I did. I'm having trouble getting this underwear on," she paused to hold a pair of altered red panties out over her shoulder, flailing them about, "and I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Sure, um, what's the problem you're having exactly?"

"I just have so much to manage down there, and these panties don't seem to fit. I wanted to know if you guys had anything bigger in the back?"

"Bigger, uh..." the assistant looked stunned, and looked from the lacey garment she was holding out down to her perky, muscled rear, trying to catch a glimpse of what she meant, "I don't think so? There should have been a wide range of sizes for you to try on."