Scenes from the Futaverse

Two Hundred Years of Progress

An enormous digital screen lit up behind the back of the stage, showing a collage of the country's striped pink and red flag. In front of the screen, a large woman strutted across the stage towards a podium in the center. She wore a tight, revealing dress with thread-like straps that strained to hold up her heavy breasts. It ended mid-thigh, well above the lower bulge of her impressive balls, currently wrapped up in a thin pair of panties. Her cleavage bounced, shining under the spotlights, as she stood smartly behind the podium. Made of clear plastic, it allowed a see-through view past the male inside the box to the bulging length of cock meat curled inside of and stretching out the speaker's tight pink panties. The striped flag was sewn into the crotch, but the girth and length of her veiny, half-hard dick and massive balls distorted and stretched it to extremes.

Smiling and nodding at the applause from the crowd, she took a moment to adjust her hair, then reached down between her legs and dragged her massive cock free of the pathetically tiny thong. She tugged the panties down under her heavy, fat nuts, then let it snap back up into place behind them. Her hips pressed forward, grinding her thickness right into the gloryhole cut into the back of the podium where she stood, legs spread, both hands on the top of the podium, as the male inside gagged and wriggled. His whole body writhed as her huge length stretched his jaw, then his neck, but it wasn't until she pumped her hips forward and smooshed her muscular belly into the clear wall of the podium that the applause from the crowd peaked.

The male inside the box was cute enough, for a male, the speaker said, and he certainly was tight enough. She turned her head and flashed the election-winning smile at her assistants gathered in the wings of the auditorium. They always treated her so well. Her hips pumped, dragging her massive cock a quarter of the way out before grinding back in. She was thick enough that her cock had to squeeze in past the sanded, smoothed over edges of the hole before stretching open the male's throat inside. His arms pulled at the bindings on his wrists, which kept them pulled to his sides towards the bottom corners of the box, while more straps kept his ankles and knees secured as well. A half-collar wrapped around the back of his neck, keeping his face squeezed into the soft gel pads around the gloryhole, ensuring he wouldn't be damaged by maintaining his position. His nostrils flared whenever he could snatch a gasp of air around the enormous dick, but otherwise he could do little but flail as her massive organ throbbed deep inside his chest, squirting rich futa seed straight down into his belly.

"Ladies... we did it!" the speaker called out, raising both arms in the air. Her hips slammed forward, creating a gush of seed inside the podium that backed up inside the squirming male's throat until it erupted from both nostrils. "I always believed it was possible, as the candidate of the Futa Ascendency Party, that we could win, and win big... and ladies, have we ever won!"

More cheers, then the speaker continued, raising and lowering her voice as she gestured with her hands, delivering her remarks with heartfelt sincerity. Her hips slid side to side or in and out as she leaned forward and gripped the podium with both hands. Inside the clear podium, the male's body slid wetly against the musky walls, now getting covered in a rich coating of seed. His neck bulged when she leaned forward, hips slamming her balls flat to the plastic, sandwiched by her muscular thighs, as she emphasized her points about the importance of the oppression policies targeting free males. Over an inch of pre-cum filled the bottom of the podium.

"My administration will not stop our relentless persecution of the inferior male! In fact, my administration will prioritize shutting down the last remnants of the male supremacists!" she shouted. Her hips pumped forward, emphasizing each word along with a mighty thump of fist on top of the table. Another inch or so of pre-cum filled the podium, enough to slosh over the bound male's ankles. "We will hunt them down wherever they may be and ensure that futas everywhere live in the world we deserve! One where pathetic men, who for centuries ruled this planet as kings, are no more than subservient... hnnfff... cute... little... ooooh... mmmfffff... fffffffuuuuucktoys!"

The podium rocked slightly. Her heavy chest spread flat across the top as she humped harder and faster. Her words were louder, more excited and passionate than ever, as the audience cheered and applauded at her rousing lines.

"In fact, this fucktoy currently servicing me is none other than Ishmael Manley, the recently captured leader of the Free Males Movement! By the time I'm done delivering my remarks tonight, this weak and pathetic male, inferior being that he is, will be completely conquered and owned by futa cock - AS HE SHOULD BE!"

Her voice thundered out as a huge gush of pre-cum flooded the male's body. His eyes rolled back into his head as his struggles momentarily ceased.

"Look at him struggle, ladies. This is the result of our efforts over the past two hundred years. Right now, the percentage of free males is the lowest it's ever been, and thanks to the dedicated efforts of the various malehunter organizations, those numbers are projected to drop even lower. Ladies, we may be looking soon at the complete eradication of the free male within our lifetimes! As for Mr. Manley," she said, saying the title sarcastically, "he'll be spending the next four years under my desk in the presidential office! And if we do well, maybe we can make it eight!"

Half a foot of pre-cum sloshed around the bottom of the interior of the podium where the kneeling, bound male wiggled as the speaker used his throat like a breeding mount. Thick drizzles of seed rolled from his nostrils and face as his belly pressed tighter into the walls. Bubbles of cum blew from his nostrils as he struggled to get a breath in between the deep, powerful thrusts punctuating the impressive and confident oratory occurring above.

"...new economic programs designed to maximize the male workforce so as to prevent their slide into degeneracy... increasing 10 percent year over year... proud to announce new pilot programs in seventeen major cities for the containment and suppression of wild males and finally eradicate the scourge of male supremacy once and for all... despite the FEM's wishes for legislation giving certain males the right to breed, my administration will only fund a study of the issue..."

The thrusting grew sloppier and wet enough for the sounds to get picked up by the microphone. The speaker's fingers whitened as she gripped the edges of the podium, closed her eyes, and tossed her long red locks back behind her shoulders. Her heavy tits bounced, both jugs fat and swollen, while down below, her huge, plump balls flattened, trapped between the transparent plastic and her own muscular, wide thighs.

There was a blast from within the podium. A gush of white seed completely coated every inch and drizzled lewdly down towards the bottom, pooling deep enough to cover the male's bent, kneeling legs. The humping didn't stop, and the speaker's speech climaxed as she did. Throatfucking the male ruthlessly, her veiny arousal pulsed, filling his belly so full that it spread from edge to edge inside the podium. His wiggling and trembling continued as the level of seed within rose higher, hiding his chastity cage and wide, breedable hips.

"And finally, I'm proud to announce that, in partnership with my good friends from the other side, the Futa Elevated Matriarchy, that they will be passing - tonight - and I will be signing - tonight - legislation that will finally make mandatory the caging of all males in public! No more pathetic male cocks allowed to get hard at the sight of their futa masters!"

Her final word turned into an eager, lewd groan that reverberated and echoed across the cheering, jumping audience. The podium filled faster as she sagged forward, mouth open and eyes lidded over, gasping for breath as her massive cock disappeared into the squirming male's throat, harder and fatter and thicker than ever, unleashing a tremendous flood of spunk that his small frame couldn't handle. A flood of thick futa jizz splurted from his mouth and nostrils while his belly rounded outwards until it flattened into the inner wall of the podium, hiding the view of his small caged cock beneath it. His wriggling and struggling weakened as his eyes lidded over. Cum poured from his throat as seed filled the podium more than three-quarters of the way to the gloryhole. The stench of futa jizz fumes made breathing almost impossible, and his whole body twitched, forcing his fat belly to create waves in the pool of cum.

The speaker waved to the audience as she stepped backwards, roughly dragging her cock free. She strutted off-stage with ropes of seed still drizzling from her massive schlong along the way. Half a dozen males scurried past her onto the stage holding mops and terry cloths. All wore g-strings and bikini tops with cock cages bulging beneath and nothing else, though two had brands, each different, showing they were owned by futa cock and thus not publicly available for use. One pushed a hand truck, which he pushed under the edge of the cum-filled podium. The speaker completely filled it, turning it entirely white save for where the male's bloated belly and fat ass squeezed into either side from within.

His body, like all males subjected to intense loads of futa cum, was changing. His features and muscles softened, shrinking his overall size by almost a quarter. The mass had to go somewhere, though, and his thighs and rump ballooned, filling out into a set of hams that any futa would be happy to bend over and fuck stupid. His lips plumped up, reddening with blood flow, and his eyelashes lengthened. His mouth, held in place at the entrance, opened for another pulse of thick futa seed that couldn't stay down in his pot belly. The microphone picked up a few of his moans as the former leader of the last remaining bastion of male freedoms was carted off stage.

None of the other males on stage wore proper clothes. The bulges of chastity cages were clear in their tight, skimpy g-strings and petite, ridiculous little bras, despite their clear lack of any boobfat. Still, it was considered a good idea to keep the males aspirational. Maybe one day they'd have a nice, fat rack like their superiors, went the thinking, though falsies and padding were no longer legal requirements after the laws were loosened in 2189 to allow limited displays of masculinity by males in public - something the new administration was focused on repealing.

A band followed a few minutes later to keep the crowd amped up. A group of uniformly enormous, muscular women in mohawks, leather vests, chains and belts and spikes, trotted out with their tiny male groupies and roadies hauling out the speakers and other equipment. There were six members of the band, and as they warmed up, the keyboardist, rhythm guitarist, and drummer all made sure they had a gagged, caged male strapped to their bodies. The roadies used cords to tie the sleeves' wrists together around the backs of their assigned band members.

"Alright, you ready to rock? One-two-three-four-go!"

The music started with a blast of drums and guitar that shook the whole outdoor arena. In the crowd, many of the women took to dancing with their males bouncing off their hips, bellies sagging, in time with the pounding rhythm. Like the speaker, many wore tight dresses, skirts, small t-shirts, or other articles of clothes that revealed more than they hid. Hairstyles varied dramatically, from traditional curls and locks to mohawks and spikes and everything in between. Advanced technology was everywhere, even implants directly in the wrists or eyes or other parts of the dancing crowd. Even the males, who were all several feet smaller than their betters, were loaded up with tech to control their deviant impulses and ensure they properly served their mistresses. Filthy males - couldn't trust them a single bit.

Pet Adoption

"Oh, this one's cute!"

"Feel free to take it out for the day to see if it's a good fit, Ms. Churless."

"It does look a little small..."

"Don't worry, they're surprisingly stretchy, and they've been excellently trained. See?"

"Oh, wow! Alright, I'm sold!"

"Right this way and we'll fill out a reservation so if you decide you like it, you can keep it."

"Perfect!"

A tall woman in a stark black business jacket and matching miniskirt gave a sharp tug on the leash in her hand. She stared over her black-rimmed glasses at the male kneeling on the floor, a severe look in her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, while her jacket squeezed in under her heavy breasts to accentuate her slender stomach and wide hips. The curvy woman's enormous cock slung low in her black panties, straining hard against the gauze-like fabric as it bounced over her lower thighs, well clear of the bottom hem of the short skirt. Combined with the two heavy, full balls mashed inside the panties with the huge length, it was a monster of a cock that put the male's tiny, shriveled, and permanently caged unit to shame.

"Come along quickly now. You know better than to dawdle," she said, lightly reprimanding the naked male, who nodded meekly and lowered his gaze. "My apologies. Sometimes the males get a little excited when they're adopted."

The other woman grinned. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, she was fit and muscular and several inches taller than the handler. Her chest wasn't as impressive, but the bulge snaking down the leg of her tight yoga pants stretched almost to her knee, with a tip as big as her entire fist shifting around every time her leg moved. Her sleeveless shirt was cut-off, revealing her hard, muscular belly and the lower part of her sports bra. Despite not having as impressive a rack as the other woman, her jugs were still easily twice the size of the male's head.

"It's okay. He won't be my first, anyways."

"Oh? You have another at home?"

"Had. Worn out, unfortunately, so it got retired."

"Shame."

"Yeah, that one was pretty good. Outlasted the other toys, anyways."

"Just sign here... here... and here... this absolves you of any liability for any accidents, medical issues, or other problems that may arise from owning a pet male... and here... initial here... this form says that you acknowledge you have no legal requirement to shelter, feed, or otherwise care for a male, regardless of any other agreements... yes, right there. Almost done... finally, this is the pet's ownership title. I'll stamp here and... congratulations! Your new pet is almost ready to go home with you, Ms. Churless!"

"Awesome! I can't wait!"

Ms. Churless - or, less formally, Cindy - grinned as she took the leash from the adoption agency rep. Her new male stared at her hips - like all males, he was uselessly addicted to cock and jizz. She grinned as her thick maleness stretched further down her yoga pants as her arousal budded slightly at the thought of breaking in her latest toy.

"As the final step... just one moment, please."

With her heavy chest straining her black jacket, the pet adoption agent turned back to the kneeling male on the floor. Reaching over, she grabbed a square-faced rod from the wall, then, with her other hand, she dug her fingers into the male's hair and roughly dragged him up to his feet. Turning him around, she pushed him over the desk, exposing his thick, well-built ass. Holding the device above his backside, her thumb depressed the button on the base of the rod. Laser lines shot out, etching in a second or two a large brand across the pet's lower back - a tramp stamp marking him as owned.

Cindy's cock jerked as she listened to her new male gasp. The brands were painless - mostly - so she didn't worry about it too much. Mostly, she was focused on his thick hips and imagining the noises he'd make once she took him balls deep later.

"Thank you again for helping take care of the surplus male problem, and if you know anyone else who would be interested in adoption, please send them my way!" the rep called out after her as she left.

Cindy's pink high heels clicked across the cement. Her new pet walked meekly behind her, head down and eyes covering his caged crotch. The cage was permanent and irremovable - an automatic addition to stray males when picked up by the adoption agencies. Not that they could get hard after undergoing the rudimentary training (this one was lent out to a nearby army barracks as a cum rag for the new recruits, who took all their frustrations with their superior officer out on the cute male).

She was about halfway back to her apartment with her barefoot, naked male trotting along after her when she ran into a friend from her yoga studio.

"Cindy! Hiiiiiii! Who's this cutie you got with you, huh?"

Cindy grinned and tugged on the leash, making her little male stumble forward.

"Hey, Miranda! Haven't given him a name yet, just picked it up from the agency."

"No way! How adorable! Are you gonna keep the hair short or let it grow long?"

"Long," Cindy said confidently. "I like 'em as girly as possible. It's funnier that way."

"True!"

The two women started chatting. Cindy's hand reached over and pressed against the top of the male's head. Her fingernails scratched down to his scalp as she got a good grip, then pulled him face-first into her crotch, smothering his face in her mostly flaccid bulge. His face pressed inwards so that the warmth surrounded his face, making his eyes tear up at her strong scent.

"Oh, no, I haven't even had a chance to break him in yet," Cindy said from above. "I'm really looking forward to it. I know they can get annoying, but I kind of hope he's a loud one. My last pet was too quiet no matter how hard I fucked it."

"Yes! I agree - it's so cute when they're wailing and begging. Ha ha ha!"

The hand on the back of the male's head clenched harder and shifted him down, smearing his face along the huge shaft before pushing him up beneath, against the fat balls squeezed into the taut pants. His tongue extended automatically as he whimpered and moaned at the roughness with which she ground against his face.

"Okay, Cindy - I'll see you later! Maybe invite me over to meet that cute little guy again sometime!"

"You got it!"

Fresh air washed some of the musk away from the male's head as his naked body was shoved to the side, but the saliva remained. He stared at her enormous cock, now half-hard and larger than ever. It was like a ballerina stuffed a baseball bat down one leg of her tutus. The stretchy yoga pants turned white from how much they had to stretch as the woman's arousal built.

"Alright, cutie. I don't wanna wait 'til I get home, so I think I'm gonna break you in right here."

There was a cafe nearby staffed with cute little males wearing skimpy panties. They were, of course, all caged. A few were apparently on hormones based on the size of their boytits. Cindy nodded approvingly - the owner of the cafe certainly knew how to treat her staff.

Dropping into a chair on the outside patio facing the street, Cindy spread her legs, then reached into her yoga pants. As she dragged her enormous, half-hard cock free of the stretching fabric, her other hand dragged the male closer with the leash. The collar - his only clothing - stretched around his neck as he fell forward into her crotch. Cindy wasted no time getting a hand on the back of his head, then her other at the upper part of her shaft so she could slide the massive tip between his lips, sealing off the whimpering moans coming from his narrow chest. She didn't want to destroy him right away, so getting a good lube-up with his mouth seemed prudent before she demolished his cute ass.