Futanari Notebook Ch. 31

The Futa Note cleared its throat and, in the style of a wrestling announcer, said; "Let's bring in our special guest. Weighing in at 100lbs and standing at 5'2'', it's Rachel Adams!" The door opened and Rachel stood there, also naked, and appeared almost childish beside the creature. She looked around with a smirk, then fixed it upon Carmen. Like a switch had turned, she raced toward her.

Carmen yelled as she was tackled to the bed and met with a flurry of kisses. They felt real. Her lips were being mashed into someone else's, but she couldn't say whose. Must be Ryuka. She wanted to stop and reprimand the Seikogami, but her body refused to act. Rachel kept kissing her, awakening her arousal to new heights as those slender thighs straddled her.

Something squeezed her cock. Carmen reciprocated the kisses, relaxing as her physical body kept pleasuring itself. The pleasure was slow, gentle streams that rolled over her flesh, warm and inviting. She kissed harder, deciding there was no stopping until she finished, even if that meant delving deeper into her mind than she cared to. In the meantime, she had Rachel's petite and supple body wrapped around hers, so close that the heat of her vagina poured onto the cock trapped between. Hot breaths rushed from their noses as the kiss deepened.

She's so small, Carmen thought and cupped the girl's ass. Her palm covered it with ease, fingers almost capable of grabbing the whole other cheek. If she were bigger, then Rachel would seem like a child. She already did. Cute breasts were devoured in Carmen's whorish set, their mass squishing around and rolling over Rachel's tiny torso. If the rest of her was this petite, then what about her vagina. Stacy's had been accommodating enough to handle four fingers with ease, but she was a giant compared to this girl.

The kiss broke and a bridge of drool with it. Carmen hadn't noticed she was drooling so much. She wiped it away, leaving a slimy trail on her arm, one that told her just how far she had fallen into depravity. Rachel leaned in and licked it up, pressing her tongue flat. They stared at each other, chests heaving.

"This isn't real," Carmen said.

"No, but this is Rachel's desire as well as yours," the Futa Note explained, still at the door.

"This isn't real," Carmen repeated as Rachel ground into her penis, giving it a taste of that hidden treasure she refused herself. Dakota, Mary, Zoey, Ashley and now Rachel, none would turn her down even after finding out she was also a futa. She still would deny herself. Pleasure was a distraction from reality, nothing more, and she would only share it with someone she really cared for. Someone she wanted to be with. Who accepted her and supported her and loved her and wanted her and... Rachel had seen her cock, but didn't care.

She had seen the Futa Note and didn't care. She'd supported Carmen in the diner with Stacy and clearly wanted her. Did Rachel love her? Carmen swallowed. The pleasure had paused in her confusion, then Rachel grunted, hefting a tit to her face. She stopped to marvel at its size, a close match for her head, then ran her tongue around the areolae, circling toward the lush nipple at its centre.

This was a fantasy. It's not real. Carmen groaned at the pressure on her cock and the impossible sensation on her nipple. She was alone in reality, yet Rachel's lips and tongue and teeth were there on her tit, slobbering over it like an overeager dog. Telltale sparks detonated in her breast, trailing devastating pleasure down her spine and into her loins. This was a fantasy.

It didn't matter what she did or what she thought. Nothing she did here mattered. So, what was holding her back? Carmen held the redhead against her nipple, her other hand kneading that petite, supple ass. Hidden within, two holes beckoned so sweetly, each promising wondrous tightness. Addictive scents swirled from them, testing Carmen's discipline. Meandering beads of sweat formed and were joined by more on her skin, the strain showing through as Rachel's hands fondled her breasts and her lips suckled on a nipple. She jumped to the other, leaving the first swollen and glossy with copious spit.

"What's holding you back?" The Futa Note asked. Its shape had fluctuated, becoming perversely massive and shiny from oil, with nipples the size of fists that leaked a constant flow of milk. Carmen's breath caught. She didn't have an answer. It wasn't a defeat to enjoy her fantasy, even one infiltrated by the book. This was her mind. Her world. By right, she should indulge in all the things she chained up.

"Couldn't agree more," the book smirked and ran its hands over torso-defining tits, then down into hips that could shred any jeans, ending at an erection that cleared the doorframe, "Just tell me what you want and I'll make it happen here. I am at your beck and call, Carmen. You think I will change you, that I'll take your self-control and raze it to the ground. But I won't. I just want you to be happy. Tell me your desires."

Carmen gulped back a moan. Her mouth opened, her mind raced with possibilities, which spewed from her lips without a filter. Even when she thought it was done, a new idea came that demanded freedom. Across the room, the Futa Note beamed at her, yet its eyes shone with an eldritch warmth. Rachel shuddered and moaned, arching back to show off the phallus sprouting from her crotch.

The room came back into focus at just the wrong moment. Carmen gasped, jerked and cried out as ecstasy plummeted from her gut to her loins. She released a nipple she'd been nursing on, letting it flop back into place, while her cock quivered in her hand, which kept stroking. Dense ropes exploded from the tip while her pussy doused the bed, its walls clamped on all her fingers, spraying past them. Spasms ran through her tunnel and up her dick, still more cum erupting from both.

Remnants of her orgasm dripped from her sexes. Carmen panted where she laid, staring at the ceiling, astounded and shaking from the aftershocks still coursing through her. She reached to her breast and flinched when she grazed a nipple, like she was hit with a taser. On her bedside, the Futa Note was open. It seemed to stare at her.

She gulped, recalling the fantasy. Did she want to turn Rachel into a futa? Carmen propped herself up and stared down at her own body, voluptuous and coated in sweat and cum, the scents of which permeated her room. Her cock shouldn't exist. It was a blight on her otherwise improved figure. Those thoughts still held true, yet she was reluctant to assert them.

"It's not that bad," Carmen admitted under her breath. At least it wasn't a limp, useless appendage. She could masturbate with it, take pleasure in her predicament, and even get someone pregnant. Her mind blanked at the thought. Could she? Gathering a clump of semen, she regarded it with a critical eye. Nothing about the aromatic slop gave the impression it was infertile. She doubted the book would allow such a thing. The book... perhaps it wasn't nearly as dangerous as she first thought.

That night, Carmen procrastinated going to sleep for as long as possible. If she fell asleep, she knew the book would appear to her, though nothing backed up her suspicion. But the day had drained her and seductive exhaustion replaced her stubbornness.

When next she opened her eyes, it was back in the dreamscape of her room, yet the Futa Note's form hadn't appeared. She waited, looking around for any sign of it. Then a small hand pulled on her shirt. She assumed it was Melody, given the size, then she followed it.

"Looking for someone?" Rachel's visage asked, drastically changed but definitely her. She had shrunk, however the slab of cock draped over a thigh commanded all her attention.

"This is a dream," Carmen thought and leaned in. If it was her dreams and fantasies, then she could indulge a little. Maybe one day, if Rachel wanted it, she would make this a reality.