Double Team

Katherine had found about a public charity donation event by the slightly annoying medium of a brightly-colored flyer under her windshield wiper. It was being held at the slightly rundown building where she’d once rented for a week as a gallery for her art. Appropriately, the building was covered in graffiti.

She had gathered up some old clothing and canned goods to submit before she read the flyer more closely. It wasn’t a drive for a food bank or anything else like that. All they asked was for women to show up for roughly five minutes, and everyone could contribute.

She had to know what was actually going on.

Katherine entered the familiar building and faced a line of women waiting to enter. Each woman signed a clipboard, was given something, and was ushered into the next room. The process was surprisingly efficient. She wished whoever ran this charity event would transfer their skills for the next time she went to the DMV.

Once Katherine was at the front, a woman in a tank top pushed the clipboard under her nose. She signed her name and was given a clear plastic disposable cup of water... and a pill? It looked like a vitamin, just a diamond-shaped hard white button.

On instinct, she brought the pill to her mouth. The woman at the desk waved her hand. “Wait until you’re in there.”

The next ‘room’ appeared to nothing but a small partition created within curtains. She watched as the women before her popped their pill, so she tossed it in her mouth and washed it down with the water.

The woman before her in line pulled down her skirt and placed it in a numbered bin. Between her legs hung a flaccid penis and scrotum.

This didn’t specifically surprise her. She knew there were that one-in-five-thousand women who were born with both sets of genitals. She’d even heard the previously unknown circumstances behind their formation were becoming more well-understood. It was a little shocking to see someone just walk around with it out so brazenly, even in this enlightened era.

“First time?” Said a voice behind her. Katherine turned around. A woman with long blonde hair in a button-up shirt with pens held in her breast pocket was next in line, still holding her pill between her fingers.

“Yes?” Katherine seemed confused by the question.

“Please take the pill.” Said a guard from behind their sunglasses.

The blonde woman put the pill in her mouth and sipped the water. “You ready?”

“Ready for...”

Katherine lurched forward. She felt strong pressure on her groin, as if something was trying to work its way through her skin. Her skin seemed to give and grow just enough that the sensation was never unpleasantly sharp or painful. She still felt like someone was inflating a football inside her. When the feeling stopped, she felt something spongy, yet familiar, through her skirt.

Pulling down her skirt and panties, Katherine was the proud owner of a brand new penis, standing out from her pubes like a tree trunk surrounded by grass.

“That’s impossible.” Katherine whispered, in awe of this thing. If anyone had approached her with this, she might have run away.

“It’s definitely not.” Said the blonde woman behind her. She had shed her loose shorts and revealed her own cock. She hadn’t reacted as strongly as Katherine, perhaps used to the procedure after several donations. After all, she had no pubic hair to speak of.

“Come on.” The blonde woman put her hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “Let’s not hold up the line.”

The next ‘room’ was again nothing more than a partition built from curtains within the larger studio. They placed their unneeded clothes in small numbered washing tubs and were given matching numbered slips for later retrieval.

Katherine was not accustomed to walking around with her privates hanging out, but the distance she had from this brand-new thing kept her from feeling self-conscious about it. Nevertheless, if someone saw her trying to put the number in the nonexistent pocket on her bare hip... that would have been embarrassing.

They waited in a line of bottomless or mostly nude woman, all with their brand-new extension.

“What’s your name?” The blonde asked.

“Katherine.”

“I’m Delia.” She reached out with one hand. Katherine put up one hand for a handshake, but Delia’s hand went lower and pulled on Katherine’s wiener.

She cried out... though she did not ask her to stop.

“Sorry about this, but... you need to be hard before you get to the front, or else they’ll use the spray.”

Katherine didn’t know what ‘the spray’ was, but she took over jerking with her own hand. This didn’t seem that difficult. Just make a loop with thumb and forefinger and pull... right?

She was probably hard enough to satisfy the fussy judges at the end of this line, but Delia went first to give Katherine a few more seconds. She watched as they pushed her erection off her body at an approximately forty-five degree angle. A ruler attached to a boom stand was brought in. The ruler was covered in black and white rectangles and quartered circles like a crash dummy. It looked like the kind of measuring device used in forensic and crime shows. The ruler was lowered and tilted until it was exactly underneath Delia’s boner.

From a tiny box on a nearby desk, there was a flash as a picture was taken.

“Eight point five.” The examiner said. “Next!”

Delia disappeared through yet another curtain.

Katherine suddenly felt quite alone and scrutinized, and not just because they were impatiently waiting for her to step up. She stood to the side of the ruler as it was positioned against herself. The camera flashed, bright enough to cause her right eye to blink involuntarily. She wondered if her face would be in that picture.

“Ten point two five.” The same voice called. “Next!”

Katherine hesitated before moving through the curtain, suddenly feeling the tension of walking into an unknown room not just partially nude, but with an erection. She parted the curtain with one hand and stepped through the fabric threshold.

The majority of the gallery’s floor space was used in this final room. There was a gentle smell of sweat mostly masked by a stronger smell of ejaculate. Numerous tables were set up with various forms of... collection. Some were stainless steel communal funnels that several bottomless women were depositing at once, bunched up shoulder-to-shoulder like a bukakke film shoot. Some were bottles or tubes attached to artificial orifices. Some were Erlenmeyer flasks for seemingly no adequate scientific reason except to show off the extent of someone’s collection of scientific glassware. The room was perpetually filled with the soft vocalizations of feminine pleasure.

There did not appear to be any order to the donation procedure. When a station opened up, someone else took it. An athletic African-American woman wiped the sweat from her forehead with the fringe of her scarf and set down her preferred tool: a Fleshlight attached to the table by a length of tubing.

“Here you go, honey.” She said with a satisfied grin. “I warmed her up for you.”

The woman walked off towards an exit, a gentle bend beginning to form in her wilting erection.

Katherine ran up to the abandoned device. She had never seen a real Fleshlight in person. She was surprised at the level of detail in the artificial vulva. If they hadn’t molded the clitoris into the rubber... would any of the men who used these things notice?

Placing the opening of the device on the tip of her erection... she wondered if she would even fit in this thing. Men with ten inch penises could probably didn’t need this device. They’d stumble upon the genuine article with ease.

She lowered the device onto herself.

Katherine let out a tremulous moan. The device was still warm from this woman’s thrusts and the remnants of jizz lingering between the soft jelly fingers within it.

Almost without thinking, both hands wrapped around the contoured grip of the device and she slid it over her new limb. She pulled it out and thrust her hips in equal measure. Was this what sex felt like for men? Even this inanimate facsimile felt amazing. No wonder men kept making fools of themselves in pursuit of coitus.

Katherine held the device against the table, pounding the silicon orifice like it was a woman bent over her desk. Although the molded clitoris on the orifice was facing up, so the imagined woman would not be bent over the desk but spread across it, but Katherine wasn’t paying any attention to such unimportant details.

With teeth clenched and eyes pinched shut, she felt a sudden intense wave of pleasure, and her new appendage released a torrent of ejaculate into the device, through the flexible tubing and to parts unknown. The release felt like using a sword to open a bottle of champagne. How could so much flow from her when it had not existed inside her more than a few minutes prior?

Shivering and quaking, holding herself up on the table, she felt a hand fall on her shoulder. It was Delia. She had apparently finished her donation, her softening member shiny with remnants of lube.

“It’s pretty intense the first time, isn’t it?” She helped steady Katherine. “Come on, let’s go take a break.”

Delia brought Katherine through the halls into the gallery’s public commissary. They were given the plastic tray of their previously surrendered clothing and slid it past a series of baskets filled with snack foods, prewrapped cookies, juice boxes, bottles of water nestled in ice, everything someone might want to feel better after making such a substantial donation.

At the end of the line, everyone was given a twelve ounce aluminium can. The logo appeared to be in Japanese, but included many other languages on the side. Likewise, the light green-yellow color reminded Katherine of that particular Japanese cultivar of honeydew melon that was apparently very popular.

“What is this? Melon soda?” Katherine asked, mostly to herself.

“This really is your first time here, huh?” Delia grinned as she took the seat next to her, picking a wrapper of soft cookies to snack on. “That’s how you get rid of it. The pill brings it out, the drink takes it back.”

Katherine considered the can again. “So I drink this and it will go away...”

“That’s how it works.”

Katherine hesitated. The pleasure she had experienced was sublime. She wondered how long this donation center would be set up here. Could she come back tomorrow? The condensation dripping down this thing was reminding her of the sweat tricking down the back and legs of some of the other women in there. Even now, the chorus of moans pouring down the hall was causing a tickle in her new extension.

Cracking the can open, she chugged it without taking a breath. The intrusive lustful thoughts were extinguished, though the appendage was still there.

“It takes a minute to go away.” Delia said.

“How does it work?” Katherine squinted at the empty can curiously.

“I don’t know, but it’s all part of the thing here. They need more donations, and the easiest way to make a lot of semen is to temporarily give us penises.”

“THAT’s the easy way?”

“I guess. I couldn’t tell you how it works scientifically, but the evidence is all around us.”

“What are they collected the semen for?”

“Who cares?” Delia kept noshing on her cookie. “Free cookies, free orgasms, I don’t really care what they’re planning to do with it anymore than I care what happens to the water that went down the drain after my shower.”

Delia looked down to between Katherine’s legs and smirked. “You keep flashing that at me, I might have to go donate again before I drink this.”

Katherine looked down. The penis was gone, its disappearance less troubling than removing a post-it note from a sheet of glass. It had left so quietly, Katherine was now sitting with her legs splayed for no reason.

With a gasp, she clapped her hands against her privates. She looked up to Delia’s smirking face with a deep blush.

“I better go before we start having too much fun.” Delia picked up her jean shorts and put them back on, the tip of her member hanging out the leg hole on her left side. “Nice to meet you, Katherine.”

Another guard wearing mirrored sunglasses stood between Delia and the exit. “I’m taking this one to go.” She explained, holding the can with one hand and running her fingertips against her bulge with the other. “Might surprise my boyfriend with this before I drink it.”

“Fine, whatever.” The guard said. “Just read the instructions.”

“Will do.” Delia walked out the door into the midday sun shining down directly over her in the alley between these two buildings. She walked slowly and deliberately to her car, not wishing to draw any attention to herself.

Once in the privacy of her car, she grabbed her cellphone and dialed someone. With the phone on one ear, she pulled one of the larger pens out of her pocket and unscrewed the end. Inside... there was a little diamond-shaped pill. It was slightly moist, having previously been hidden behind her back molar, but otherwise was no worse for wear.

“Honey...” She grinned madly. “I got it.”

---

She had stumbled upon it completely by accident.

Yami was a futa born in America to an Indian hairdresser and a British orthodontist. She had moved here after getting her education and met Delia, a woman with the same ‘condition’ as her. But right now, her only condition was badly needing to find someplace to take a leak. The city’s problem with homelessness meant that almost nobody had bathrooms open to the public.

Whatever one’s opinion about that situation, it left Yami in a pickle. She had slipped into an alley between two brick buildings downtown and faced a trash can that would obscure what she was doing from the other end of the alley.

Just before her stream of urine had finished, an emergency exit burst near her open, a guard in mirrored sunglasses shouting at her. “What are you doing out here?!”

Yami yelped and tucked herself into her slacks. “Nothing!” She cried unconvincingly. She knew most cops would know about the existence of futa, but she could simply hide the evidence... large as it was.

“You can do that in here! Now get back in here before someone sees you.” The guard urged her back into the building.

Unsure what to do, Yami followed the guard inside.

Inside, there were dozens of futa masturbating into buckets, funnels, troughs, using Fleshlights hooked up with tubes, and other devices to passively ‘milk’ the participants.

When in Rome, she reasoned...

One donator standing to her side asked why she still had her pants on.

“I didn’t shave my legs this morning.” Yami joked.

And the donator didn’t laugh, instead taking this at face value and continuing to work herself.

Yami was so surprised that she almost couldn’t ejaculate into the endless gobbling mouth of this funnel like the water gun games at a carnival.

Almost.

Anyone familiar with futa would know that they don’t grow any body hair below the neck, so her joke should have been obvious. But it flew right over her head. In fact, now that she looks around, there are a few futa in here with pubic hair. Maybe they’re wearing merkins in some inexplicable fashion trend in which Yami was too old to participate.

Once she had contributed her share, she followed another donator out to a cafeteria where everyone appeared to be drinking soda from green cans. She was even handed one without asking for one as she picked up a personal pack of Fig Newtons.

Before she cracked the seal on the soda, Yami looked across to one of the women who had clearly been living her best life, munching on Wise popcorn with no pants on. Previously, this woman had a dong so large that it rested over her thigh like a lazy cat’s tail. In the time it took Yami to eat two Fig Newtons... the cock had vanished completely.

Yami looked around to others, and the longer the futa had been there, the shorter they were. She didn’t want to be caught staring, but every time she looked back, they were all getting smaller.

And they were ALL drinking the soda.

She was not about to taste this stuff, no matter how trendy and Japanese this soda was. If she really wanted something to make her penis smaller, Mountain Dew was readily available at every gas station and NASCAR event. She wanted to get this can out of there to do some research on it. She tried to slip the can in the pockets of her slacks, but it wouldn’t fit. Her purse had too much other stuff in it to hide it there. The Devil take this trendy miniature purse!

Just in case the soda wasn’t to blame and there was some sort of prick-shrinking radiation throughout this room, Yami wanted to get out of here. She walked up to the exit.

“You got your soda in there?” The guard pointed to her purse.

“Nope, it’s all in me. I even left you the can. That’s five cents going right back to you.” She walked past the guard and exited the building.

Once she was out of the sight of the building, she found a semi-private place to again drop her trousers and extract from within her nethers... the still-cool soda.

She shook the chill from her bones and reminded herself to thank her girlfriend for all the practice they’d had to prepare for such a feat. Looking at the can, she dialed her girlfriend.

“Delia... you’ll never guess what I’ve found.”

---

Yami stared at the diamond-shaped pill in Delia’s palm. It looked harmless. She expected a pill that would cause such a transformation would be a capsule with wild neon colors, or a foaming potion in a narrow beaker.

“They took that pill... and they grew penises?”

“They only grew one penis, but yes.” Delia clarified.

“Did you see it happen?”

Delia thought for a moment. “I never actually saw it happen. They all had clothes on before they took it off. Could it be that this is just a vitamin and they were just natural-born futa who were pretending just to... have fun?”

“When I was back there, there were almost forty people in there.” Yami explained. “If they were all born futa, that would be the most futa that I’ve ever seen in one place at one time, by a huge margin.”

“I hate everything about the phrase ‘born futa.’” Delia looked to the pill and closed her fist around it. “These women get to just put on a dick like it’s a pair of pantyhose and get rid of it when they don’t want it anymore. What a joke. It’s an insult to all we had to endure for our whole lives.”

Without thinking about it, Delia brought her hand to her mouth and swallowed the pill.

Yami’s eyes grew wide. “You sure you want to do that?”

“I’ve already got a cock, what difference does it make? Maybe it will get bigger.”

They waited a pensive few seconds, both staring at her crotch. Nothing happened immediately.

“Maybe it doesn’t effect us.” Yami said softly.

As if to contradict that statement, Delia suddenly fell to her knees, both hands cupped over her package. There was immediate pressure, like the desperate need to ejaculate an entire baguette. She felt her pants tighten.

When Delia stopped groaning, she pulled her hands from her crotch. Her jean shorts were stretched out with an even more substantial bulge than before.

“Whoa.” Yami purred. “I guess you were right.”

Delia got to her feet and unfastened the button on her jean shorts. The tip of her erection popped out from the waistband.

“Doesn’t look that much bigger.” Yami leaned in as Delia dropped her shorts to a pile of denim around her ankles.

Beneath Delia’s erection... there was a new one. Or maybe the one on top was the new one. It was hard to tell. They were about the same size, one atop the other like straight exhaust pipes on a motorcycle.

Yami leaned back, voice wavering like an impression of a ghost. “Ohhh, no. This doesn’t look good.”

“I think this pill doesn’t work the way I thought it did.” Delia said tensely, looking down at her newest feature.