The Grande Futapest Hotel Ch. 04

"Well, if you're like me, ten seconds after you smoke it, you'll get... really really REALLY hard."

"Oh!" Selena grinned. "Cool."

"It was NOT cool. I was surrounded by friends and they all saw it. I didn't even have a coat to cover myself because it was the summer. It was humiliating. But eventually, the girls in the group convinced me to show it off and they all jacked me off with their soft hands and fought over who got to eat the most of my come."

"That sounds like a win."

"I totally made that last part up." Layla said. "That was what I was fantasizing about when I jacked off by myself later that night, after I ran away in tears. I walked two miles home, with an erection, hoping nobody else would see, AND I was high."

"So your benchmark for being high is... weed makes me sad, embarrassed and reminds me of walking home?"

"It certainly didn't make me eager to try it again."

"They should try saying that for Just Say No."

"So... I was still hard when I got home, so I went around to the back of the barn and jacked off there so my parents wouldn't see it."

"You hid your erection from your parents?"

"Well, they obviously knew I was a futa, but... y'know, when you're a teen, you hide stuff from your parents that they probably know. I took care of the boner. I couldn't take care of the smell of weed on me. My mom was about to yell at me, but I said, 'I know, I hated it, and I won't be doing it again' and she was sort of stuck, not knowing what to say."

A long pause. "So that's my weed story. How about you? Have you ever done drugs?"

"No. None." Selena answered. "I don't even drink alcohol. I mean... I did when I was a teenager, and I was..." She sighed, recalling some long-buried memories. "self-medicating because I was unhappy being a futa with literally no peers. But I gave that up because it was just me drinking alone, and I'm like, what's the point of this?"

"You were depressed?"

"I don't know if I was depressed in the sense of a medical diagnosis, but yeah. I was a teenager who was miserable in high school. I was SO special and unique."

"But... you were unique. You are." Layla said. "You were the only futa in your region, and you had the biggest dick, male or futa."

"You know... I don't want to say that porn got me out of my little funk, but... when I started to realize I was way bigger than the average man, I started to wonder if I was bigger than the men in porn. So, I used to take screenshots of porn and triangulate how big their cocks were, based on things like the width of their hands, or nearby objects. Lenses can distort perspective very easily. That's why I try not to let photographers do that to me, since... there's not really any need.

"I got pretty good at guessing sizes. It was super easy when they compared it to a Red Bull can. Pro tip, Layla: don't do that. They're not that big. And all my data made me realize that... apparently, I had a humongous cock. It made me think like I had a future."

"High school can be fuckin' bleak." Layla looked out the car window. "The memories are still pretty fresh for me. It's really easy to feel like high school just will never end. That's why that It Gets Better campaign was so encouraging."

"I was seventeen when that started, so I could already see the light at the end of the tunnel, but yeah..." Selena remembered something. "Did you know that there were people criticizing the It Gets Better campaign because they were like, 'why should we just tell kids to suck it up? We should try to stop bullying!' Yeah, that was part of it, you asshole, if you ever read more than the name of the movement! What's wrong with trying to tell teenagers to not kill themselves so they survive to join the huge population of LGBT adults that will love them and make their life great?"

Selena sighed. "You should know... as futanari who work in the sex industry... we have less allies in the LGBT community than you'd think."

"No, I know." Layla said. "I've caught their wrath a few times for being a camgirl. I don't know why they get so bent out of shape."

"Everyone has their idea about what we should be." Selena said. "And the people who think they're more socially conscious think they've got it all figured out, and that we can't have a different opinion on the matter. Now, could our participation in porn lead someone to have a weird view of our place in the world? Absolutely. But if they let porn influence them that much, they were going to have crappy opinions about everything anyway. They say the same thing about video game violence. I mean, are we supposed to just NOT be in porn at all? It's about the only venue where we have representation in anything you could call mainstream."

"Do you play video games?" Layla asked.

"Actually, no." She shook her head gently. "Never got into them. I'm not sure I've ever played a game for more than a few minutes."

"You didn't have an older brother to watch?"

Selena held for a moment. "I'm an only child."

"Oh, really?" Layla said. "Me, too."

"I sort of assumed you were."

Layla tipped her head. "Why?"

Selena sighed again, more of a groan. "You want to get REAL heavy? Well, I'm sure you know statistics on futa births are still kind of hard to track, but as we get older... there's a professor at some university who noticed that lots of couples who had a futa child... never had another kid after that. So most futa births were the last child that couple had." A long silence. "So... it sure looks like they didn't want to chance having another... freak baby."

"Well, hold on." Layla said. "How many kids do people usually have? One, two or three, unless they're Catholic. If the third kid was born futa, what were the odds they were going to have a fourth anyway?"

"That's true." Selena said. "I seem to remember the report saying that the professor stressed that just because the trend was observable didn't mean it was necessarily statistically significant."

The conversation paused. Selena continued, "It sucks that 'freak' is such a negative word for us, because... damn, I like calling people sexy little freaks. Like 'freak' in the context of sexual participation... that's awesome. 'Freak' in the context of simply being a futa... that is bad."

The questions dried up on both sides. Selena turned on the radio. Rather than classic rock, she heard the very beginning of a commercial read by a male announcer.

"If you experience PE, know that it's not your fault. You may have testosterone deficiency. Write to us for a free sample of testosterone replacement cream, or come to our offices at..."

Even if Layla was interested in following this up, they couldn't hear where the offices were. They were laughing too hard. Now Layla understood why Selena preferred listening to audiobooks.

---

It was a large boardroom. Unlike the stereotype of a boardroom that stretched on so long, telegraph wires were suspended from both ends so those at opposite ends could communicate, this one was roughly square. Maybe this made it no longer qualify as a boardroom, but there was a huge table in the middle of the room shaped like the letter "G." It looked like something a supervillian would own if their name started with G.

Then again, Selena's last name started with a G...

The wall with the door was opaque, but the rest were two panes of glass with water running between them and tricking down the glass, letting light through but also providing privacy and soundproofing.

Almost all the seats were occupied, facing into the center of the G, but for two. Every seat was filled with a man in a business suit and tie with slickly styled hair, but for two. Rather than sit, Selena and Layla were standing at the back of the room, back to the wall, watching this vice president of marketing, or whatever it was he said he was, try to wow them.

Layla wore costume glasses with thick rims and her hair wound in a tight ponytail. She gripped a clipboard close to her chest, occasionally glancing at it. Selena has her hair down, but was still dressed in a blazer and short skirt, as short as she could without 'hanging' out from within it. Layla had dressed as close as she could, but she didn't own any stockings or garters, and Selena's were too large for her skinny legs. Both their skirts had a vent on the side, where the cut went all the way up to the waist. Layla noticed a few intrigued glances at their legs, wondering how many of them were simply trying to check out Selena's cock. It was clearly silhouetted by her skirt, wobbling just a bit with every move, just aching to be free.

The presentation was wrapping up, but it could have been summed up in a few sentences. This company made condoms, and they wanted to sell Selena Grande-branded condoms. They have a pop-art caricature of Selena's face that did look like her, considering it was just a few colored shapes. Layla hadn't seen that used on any other products before. If there was much in the way of physical merchandise other than DVDs and the occasional poster, Layla didn't have any of it.

The VP stood in the center of the G-table, finally done with his lengthy and deeply rehearsed presentation, trying not to sweat under Selena's unimpressed stare.

"Well?" He said. "What do you think?" He gestured to the projected scren.

Selena walked around the desk, behind the shoulders of half the men, and watching the others' deliberately watching her breasts bounce. They'd all rather be caught staring at her deep cleavage than at her wobbling wiener.

Walking through the gap in the G, with Layla following behind her silently like she was on a leash, Selena stepped into the center of the desks, all eyes now on her. She plucked the sample condom from the VP's hand. She inspected it. "Are these novelty condoms or are they quality condoms?"

"Quality." The VP answered. "These aren't joke condoms. They are ready for use in the aid of contraception."

"Do you use these?"

An icy pause, where none of the air in the room moved. "Actually, no."

"Why not?" Selena smirked.

"I'm married." The VP answered. "It's not like I use a different brand. It just... doesn't come up."

Selena rotated her head, trying to find a face that would help her. "Anybody?"

Nobody spoke up.

"That's fine, gentlemen." Selena said. "If you worked for a cereal company, you wouldn't necessarily have to eat Cheerios all the time. But... I will have to do a little bit of hands-on testing."

Before anyone in the audience could look away or make a sound of hesitation, Selena pinched one corner of Layla's skirt, right at the slit, and ripped it off her, tossing the skirt away, over the heads of the suited men.

As instructed, Layla wasn't wearing underwear. She yipped like a startled dog at her sudden nudity, turning in place. At the center, there was no place to hide from prying eyes, but she had successfully showed her hanging cock to everyone seated. Layla lowered the clipboard she was holding in front of her crotch, but Selena forced it back up to Layla's chest with a single extended finger. The clipboard rose irresistibly, exposing Layla to the now deeply uncomfortable crowd.

The crowd grew ever more embarrassed as Layla's cock rose just as irresistibly, growing to its full length and trembling with her rapid heartbeat. Layla bit her lip and pretended to be looking at an empty chair. There was lots of uncomfortable shifting and adjusting of lapels. All these men had their hundred-dollar silk ties, arrows pointing downward to advertise their junk.

Here Selena and Layla were, proving they didn't need any such misdirection.

There was a gentle rip as Selena removed the condom from the package. It was pink. "Is this the only color?" Selena asked, pinching the reservoir tip between her fingers.

"There's pink, blue, green, red, orange, and purple." The VP said, trying to ignore Selena's assistant's evident humiliation. "We like to think we make the most vibrant colored condoms around."

"My experience with these devices is somewhat limited." Selena analyzed the small balloon. "This feels like a reasonably good condom, but we must put it to the test." Selena tossed the condom in her mouth like it was a Timbit. The VP put his hand up to stop her, and a few other members of the board started at the sight.

Selena dropped to one knee and lowered her mouth onto Layla's erection. The room burst out in gasps, but Selena stood right back up, the condom now perfectly applied to Layla's cock.

"It rolls out very nicely." Selena said, bringing her hand to the base of Layla's cock. The end of the condom almost reached her balls, with maybe a centimeter of space between them. "Just how big is this condom?"

"It's about eight and three-quarters inches." The VP said. "It's the largest condom we make."

"It looks like it fits her very nicely." Selena admired her handiwork... and Layla's gently twitching cock, and her faintly blushing cheeks. Selena's attitude darkened. "But then again... there's no way this condom would fit me. Are you asking me to sell condoms with my name and my face on it... that don't fit me?"

The VP leaned back. "But..." He was lost for a moment. "But you have a foot long..." He glanced down at her skirt. He couldn't bring himself to say it. "thing. Nobody makes a twelve inch condom."

"Well, why not?" Selena put her fists against her hips. "Is this why I have so many maternity suits against me? Because I just can't plastic-bag it?"

"But... but..." The VP was deeply flustered now. Layla was surprised she wasn't the most embarrassed person in the room right now. "Twelve inch... penises are extremely rare! Like... progeria rare! Like, one in ten million! Who would we sell them to?"

"Every one of my fans." Selena said with sudden brightness, pointing. "For a few bucks, they can unsheath a condom that would actually fit my incredible member. Give them something tangible to hold, and something inherently sexual."

The VP seemed to get his breath back. "So... we're talking about novelty condoms again?"

"Any condom with my name on it should be able to be used if they wanted to... and if they were large enough." Selena said, talking to the crowd for the first time. "I suggest at least two sizes. The nine-incher that my lovely assistant is modeling..." Selena grabbed Layla by the shoulder and spun her in a slow circle like a car on The Price is Right. "And a twelve inch model that could fit someone like me.

"If you're really feeling accommodating, you could try to make a ten-and-a-half, ten-and-three-quarters inch condom to fill the gap between those two. I'm sure there are some futa in that size range who can't find protection, but they might be fine using the twelve, depending on their girth. It's the same idea with medium fries at McDonalds. It's the least popular size, and it may legitimately not be worth making it, especially because the novelty crowd will buy the twelve inchers rather than the middle-size, the one Goldilocks chose. But the American shopper, especially American porn watchers... they're not Goldilocks. They're Papa Bear. They want things as big as possible."

The VP was taken aback. Selena had seen that look before. Even as the world's most famous porn star, people were surprised that she had deep and erudite thoughts about porn and porn-adjacent subjects. Were they underestimating her because she was a porn star? A woman? Blonde? It didn't matter. She didn't take it personally. Nobody, even some of the people making it, put much thought into porn except her.

Her... and Layla.

The VP got his footing back. "All right." He said. "So, I guess we won't be signing today, then?"

"Make a set of prototype condoms that would fit me." Selena said. "I'll put them through some testing, and if they work, I'll sign."

The VP nodded eagerly. "Excellent. I'll have them make them a small run as soon as possible. It should only be a few days. But..." The VP folded his hands. "To make condoms that fit you, it would go much quicker if we had specific... measurements."

"Dream on." She said with a gentle smile.

The men in suits slowly filtered out, a few of them trying to pretend to tap their papers against the desk to straighten them... as they tried to pretend they didn't have to straighten their boners. The VP was the last one to the door. He looked back at them. "You two all set?"

"Give us a minute, please." Selena said, gently tracing the back of her fingertips against Layla's cock. "Wouldn't want this to go to waste."

The VP looked off. "OK. I'll pretend you said something else. Have fun." He waved and left them.

Selena and Layla turned to face each other. Layla took her fake glasses off and put them in her pocket. "How'd I do?"

"That was perfect." Selena took her by the head and kissed her. "You even blushed perfectly."

"That was all real." Layla said. "I thought I could just take my pants off in front of them all and not be fazed at all, but... when I felt myself blush, I just rolled with it."

Selena pinched the reservoir tip of Layla's condom and whipped it off with a quick jerk. "How did it feel? Are these actually good condoms?"

"I don't know." Layla said. "I've never worn one before."

"I haven't worn very many, either." She tugged the rubber between her fingers before chucking it in the nearby trash can. "Someone had one that fit me, but it ripped the second I put it in. It was lousy. If they can get full-sized one of a good quality, I'd pay THEM to make 'em."

Selena recalled something the VP had said. "It's progeria rare... I can't believe he said that." She pulled out her phone. "How rare IS progeria?" She tapped a few buttons on her phone. "Wikipedia says it's one in twenty million. I guess that sounds right. Does that mean there are ten other people in America with my size?"

Layla picked her skirt up off the floor and tried to put it on over herself. With her cock sticking above her waistline, she couldn't quite close the clasp.

"We're waiting on you, Layla." Selena smiled.

"It'll be a sec."

---

Selena and Layla drove to a nearby coffee shop to get the coffee they'd forgotten to grab on the way in to Burbank. Considering they were both 'running on empty,' as Layla often said in her old job, she thought Selena did a great job being attentive at the presentation.

Layla wondered what name Selena would say when the lovely green-apron-clad barista asked for her name. She just said "Selena." Both their cups came back with names written in beautiful cursive with a china marker. Layla thought it was likely someone either going to school for art, or perhaps someone with an art degree who hadn't landed anywhere.

Selena indulged herself in a large French vanilla iced coffee with whipped cream, but no cherry. Cherries were permanently associated in her mind with cough medicine and cough drops, not the sweet pinnacles of sundaes and banana splits. Layla got an ordinary black coffee, shocked Selena could drink an iced coffee in the middle of January... be it California or not.

"So... why didn't you call your business Grande Designs?"

"Because there's a few businesses already called that, so I just went with Selena Grande, LLC. There's nothing named that... as far as I know."

"Until Selena Gomez and Ariana Grande finally team up and make a clothing line or something."

"Well, then... I got there first." She took another sip.

Layla looked across the table at her, trying not to be too distracted by the deep cleft of Selena's mighty breasts. Layla was only wearing a short skirt barely long enough to cover herself as it was. "So why LLC? Why not Selena Grande, Inc?"

"It's just me working full-time, so there's no need to be incorporated." Selena said. "Besides, this way, I only pay personal taxes, not personal and corporate taxes."

"I didn't realize there was a difference between those terms. I thought it was a style thing. But I'm not an entrepreneur."