The Mind of a Futa Girl

He closes the door behind him and I half expect him to start insulting me, or telling me to stay away from his girlfriend. But he doesn't. Instead he stands there, looking up at me. After a while he clears his throat and asks if he "can be frank". I nod and then listen as he begins saying all these things that I can't wrap my head around. In a second his whole attitude has done a 180. He's drowning me in praise--he tells me that he's fascinated by me. By my breasts. My muscles. My height. He tells me that he loves tall girls with huge breasts, calls himself a "boob man" whatever that means. As he's talking he keeps walking gradually towards me. I think he can sense I'm growing nervous but he's in full on assault mode. I can see by the look in his eye that he doesn't just want me, he's decided that I'm his. It's a look I don't like one bit--twisted and perverted, evil almost. He doesn't look like the kind of guy who is denied very often.

I'm backed up against the wall now still using one hand to clutch my bedsheet around my back to stop my breasts from tumbling out. I know I can't last much longer. I know that my dick is still dripping cum slowly inside my cleavage and will slip out at any moment if I'm not careful. But Carlton's right up against me now. Practically pressing his hard chest up against my bosom. Even though he's two feet shorter than me, I still feel him exerting some masculine authority over me. Why can't I do it? It would be so easy. Just pummel him to the ground. I know I'm strong enough.

Carlton's still talking and talking. Muttering, almost as if to himself now. I haven't said a word. He keeps talking about my body. The things he'd love to do. Every time he mentions some part of me I wince. Then, at one point he remarks how much he'd love to get his hands all over my juicy tits. He lifts up his right hand grabs a section of the side of my left breast. I see red. With my left hand still clutching the bedsheet around my body, I use my right to give him a sharp shove, hard in his chest. I barely even push him, yet he topples backwards and slides a metre across the floor.

He's in a heap on the ground, gasping for breath. I then realise he has something in his hand. It's bed sheet. Fuck! No! I look down and see that I'm standing over him stark naked. My giant breasts are swaying back and forth from the force of the bedsheet being pulled from them. I feel them weigh down heavy on my back. I use my arms to gather up as much of them as I can and place my hands over my nipples.

I can see the look of terror on his face as he takes in everything: The fact I just pushed him to the ground with little more than a half-hearted shove; me and my overgrown breasts looming over his puny body. And then I see it. The look on his face when his eyes fall to my crotch. Oh no. I attempt to look down to check if it's come loose, but I don't even to. It's clear what's happened. The colour drains from Carlton's face yet again and he almost looks as though he's about to throw up. I start twisting my legs trying to hide it in between my thighs but it's far too late. I can feel that I'm fully erect. Why? Why now? I can't understand it. My immovably hard penis is as erect as it's possible for it to be. For no apparent reason, standing tall two feet out from my body. Seeing no other option, I release my breasts and let them fall to cover my crotch.

The adrenaline is pumping now. I don't even know what I'm about to do, but I find myself striding over to where he's lying. Without thinking I reach down and lift him up by his armpits. My mouth starts moving. I don't even know what I'm saying. No one's ever seen me like this. No one. Not since I was a child being inspected by all those sick doctors. I force him to promise not to tell anyone. Not Christina. Not a soul. If he tells anyone then I'll crush his body in my fists. I press down hard on his body to show I mean business and he lets out a cry of pain. I don't know where all of these words are coming from but I can see he's taking it seriously.

The man looks like he's about to start blubbering now. His face is making me sick. So I release him from my hands and let him tumble back to the floor. I avert my gaze, expecting him to start scrambling out of my sight as fast as he can, but when I look back he's still there. He's sat on my floor, motionless, looking up at me with dewy eyes. I ask sharply him what he wants and he tries to squeak out an answer, stumbling over his words. He's saying all these things but I can't tell what he wants. But then I figure it out. He's pointing to where my cock is, lodged in between my free-hanging breasts.

I don't understand, I tell him. Why does he want to see it? But he keeps asking. Over and over. He's meek and pathetic now after I manhandled him, but he's got this new look of bargaining in his eye now. Something even creepier and perverted, resembling the look he was giving me when he was grabbing my tit only worse. He scrabbles across the floor like a rat and gets up on his knees. He begs me to let him see it. Begs me. Over and over. Please let me see it, he cries. He even starts offering me money. Pulling his wallet from his pocket and throwing his credit cards across the floor. Calling me all sorts of strange words, "goddess" and "mommy". I think the man's gone mad.

I don't like the look on his face at all. It's different now. Manic, like he's lost his mind. I know I could just pick him up and throw him out but I don't know what he'd do if I did that. If he'd try and smash down my door just to see me again. In a moment of panic I interrupt his blabbering and tell him okay. I lie down on the bed, part my breasts either side of me to reveal my penis which is somehow still unaccountably erect.

The man walks over to the bed and admires it with widened eyes. He brings his hands up close but retracts them at the last second. Again, he repeats his offer--telling me he'll pay me anything I want just to use it. I don't know what he has in mind, but it doesn't even matter, I know he doesn't have the money. In a wild flash of amusement I tell him mockingly that if he gives me a 1000 bucks he can do whatever he wants to me for one minute. The man accepts without a pause.

That was a mistake. I don't even have time to tell him I was joking because he's already removing his pants. He tips the rest of the contents of his wallet onto my coffee table as if to prove he's good for the money. The next moment I know he's standing before me naked. His body is bronzed, hairless, and ripped with muscle like a bodybuilder, but for some reason he still seems so small to me. Then I look down at his crotch. What am I looking at? It's odd, I expected him to be erect, but despite everything he's not. But no. I look closer. I realise then that he is erect. His penis is hard, and standing on end, but it's small. So very small--no bigger than his pinky. Two inches long. I can tell from the stickiness on the end of it that he must have already exploded in his pants at some point, and it's only now returning to its full, underwhelming size.

I ask again what he wants with me and he dithers a bit. Other than totally outmatching him in every dimension it seems there is nothing I can do for him. I worry that maybe he wants me to put my dick inside him somehow, which makes me shudder with disgust. But then he gestures for me to stand up and I do so. I take a step towards him and heave my breasts up with my arms so he can get a look at my penis. I can't see it below my bosom but I can feel that it is still huge and throbbing. He's only chest height on me so the tip of my penis reaches out and prods him in the sternum. Oddly I don't feel wrong at all. I feel horny, but in a way I've never experienced. I can't understand why I'm so okay with all of this.

I can tell he's so stunned that he doesn't know what to do with me. He dithers some more. Standing motionless in front of me, waiting for something. What a fool. For some ridiculous reason I now feel as though I have to satisfy him in some way. Gotta earn my fee as this disgusting dick girl prostate he's turned me into. More than anything though I just want him to leave. Who knows what Christina must be thinking, I hope she's asleep.

So I lift him up again under the arm pits and place him down like a child with his two legs straddling my cock as if he's balancing on a broomstick. I can feel his heavy weight press down on it but I'm so hard that my penis can take it. I then use both arms to slam my breasts together, almost totally enveloping his sweaty muscular body. He lets out a whimper and starts to gasp as if I've winded him. I smoosh his body in between my tits, over and over again. Every time I squeeze him, his body shudders and he lets out another pathetic girlish moan. Not so tough now. I feel my heart start to pump again. I can't believe how much this is turning me on. Feeling this asshole's pathetic body crumple as I all but crush him in between my ginormous tits. My tits that he claims to love so much.

I only manage a few more presses of my boobs together before I can sense it coming. The man's already long since cum on my chest, I can feel the stickiness on my skin. So I throw him off of my dick and send him tumbling into a naked heap on the floor. I then proceed to squirt three thick globules of cum across his body while I hold my cock in both of my hand like a bazooka. I feel an intense rush of indescribable ecstasy the likes of which I've never felt in my life. The rawness. The indescribable power I wield over this pathetic man. How did I not see it before? I'm not just a freak. I'm huge. I am a goddess. How could I ever think some pathetic man could compete with me? Christina will be mine. I've decided.

I let my erection recede, and wait as cum finishes dripping slowly onto the floor. My breasts sway around majestically in the steamy air of my tiny apartment. The place is hot, despite the brevity of the lovemaking--if I can even call it that. Carlton looks humiliated, his naked body covered in my cum. I don't know what his plan was with all of this, but I'm sick of the sight of him. I chase him out of the doorway, forcing him into the hallway. I kick the rest of his clothes out a few seconds later.

Once I've heard him scramble back down the hallway to his own apartment, I turn immediately to my mattress and crash land on top of it. My bedsheet is still lying somewhere on the other side of the room but I'm too tired to care.

Wednesday

Terrible night's sleep. I feel awful. Mind's swimming with all these horrible thoughts. I leave the house at 7 am. I know I need to stay away from Carlton and Christina. God knows what he must have told her. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he kept it a secret. But how? I left him in such a state last night that there is no way he'd be able to hide it.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. I can't stomach seeing either of them right now in any case. Everything was too weird. What did I turn into last night? I didn't recognise that woman. It still seems like a dream. Was it a dream? I've never had an experience like that before. But then again, no one has ever seen that much of me before. It triggered something. Something I didn't know I had within me. I mean, for God's sake, I'm a virgin. To think that I could do that. To a man of all people. I guess technically I didn't do anything that I haven't done to myself before. He just happened to be present while I did it. But still. What sort of animal have I become?

As I spend the morning putting in some overtime--stacking the shelves before anyone else has arrived in the shop--I can't stop my mind from racing faster than I can keep up with. It's tying itself up in knots just like it was all of last night while I was in bed. Barely got any sleep because of it. The way that douchebag Carlton was looking at me when he saw me naked is still imprinted on my mind. His reaction made no sense. He was so turned on by me. But it wasn't like those teenage boys who stare at my tits across the shop floor, or those old weirdos who try and talk to me when I'm at the post office or whatever. It was almost like he was in love with me or something. He called me a goddess. Both of them have called me that now. Surely it can't be a coincidence?

I catch myself in one of the reflective glass panes in the frozen food aisle. I rarely get a full-body look at myself like this in my tiny bathroom mirror at home. Look at me. Giant freak of a woman, strapped in some ridiculous industrial bra with 250 pounds of boob hoisted up on her chest. A goddess? Really? I guess there can't be many other people like me out there. No one with bigger boobs than me. No one as tall as me. Certainly no girl with a dick the size of mine. Well, I certainly hope there's no one else like me. Wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy. But standing here like this, I just can't see it. The feeling was there last night, for a fleeting second. The self-confidence. I know it was there. Why can't I get it back? I just wish I could reclaim what I felt while I was standing over that asshole, watching his pathetic steroid-addled body squirm around as I showered him in my cum. Ugh, fuck. What is wrong with me? I'm sick. I need to get a grip.

I spend the rest of the day avoiding Christina. It's painful to be apart from her, but the thought of her confronting me is even worse. Occasionally I spy on her to check if her mood seems the same. It does, oddly. She's chipper and bubbly, but still on guard to give idiots hell whenever they try and get her phone number as she's scanning their groceries. God, what an incredible woman. If only I had half of her spunk.

Part of me thinks that maybe she would be into me. All of me. Maybe if I just asked her, let her know what is going on down there, in my pants. How much can a guy like that really be satisfying her? I know his secret now. Big tough manly man. Secretly has a 2-inch long dick. It's so ironic. What does she even see in him? I know they fight all the time, and that she doesn't like his sour attitude. Maybe at one point he was rich, but not anymore. I definitely doubt he can do much with that thing in between his legs. Must be good with his tongue or something. Or perhaps she just doesn't realise she can do better. He is extremely handsome, I guess. Who knows.

Oh, Christina. I watch from around one of the tall shelving units as she leaves the cashier and walks over to the break room. Her full bosom is straining the buttons on her work shirt. So ridiculously sexy. Why does she do that? Maybe her boobs are so big that the buttons don't do up. If I were her, I'd probably wear an undershirt just so I didn't have to deal with the looks. I don't have that luxury, but I'm a freak. I watch her walk away from me, hypnotised by the sway of her hips and the jiggling of her huge ass. God bless those yoga pants she always wears.

Oh, for fuck's... Look at what she's done now. I scamper off the shop floor and run as fast as I can to the bathroom. Probably going to be in here for at least a few minutes, the time it takes for an erection this powerful to go down. How long was I standing out there with it like that? Really hope no one saw.

I stand in the middle of the empty bathroom, pacing around, just willing my stupid horny monkey brain to calm itself down. But even after several minutes in there, I'm still semi-erect. I can hear people coming now. Just my fucking luck. I cram myself tits-first into one of the stalls and wait with my breath held. I have to crouch down as well so that whoever it is doesn't see me from over the stall. Just have to hope no one gets a glimpse of my size 26 boots from down below.

I can hear some kind of hushed conversation going on. Damn it, it sounds like Christina. And she's with someone else who I can't quite make out. All I can hear are a few select words: why is she... but so... yeah... shy though... I know... but... really... Oh god... yes... and huge... how does she carry... so fucking hot... I flatter myself and imagine she's talking about me. I then hear the girl who was speaking make a high-pitched giggle. Yes, definitely Christina. But whoever she's with doesn't sound impressed at all. The other woman makes a loud groan and calls her a "wack job" at full volume. I know who it is. It sounds like that awful woman from the print shop. The door opens and closes again, but one of them spends a bit longer at the sink doing something. After a while though I hear her leave as well. For some stupid reason, my erection has returned, so I wait in the cramped bathroom stall for a few more minutes for it to recede.

By 5pm, I've made peace with the fact that I'm a coward. I know I still can't face Christina, so I scurry out of the supermarket via the back entrance and walk a different way home. Clambering over hedgerows and bushes, I nearly tear a hole in the side of my breast harness on an unfortunately placed spiked branch. Eventually, I make it home. The couple's car isn't in the parking lot. Looks like I made it in time. I run as fast as my size allows up the stairs and burrow back into my apartment, slamming the door behind me. I'm in a state. Why am I losing my mind like this? I thought I was supposed to be a goddess now? It's all ridiculous really, because I don't even know if Carlton has said anything. In fact, by all accounts, it seems like his girlfriend might even be into me. Am I naive for thinking that? I know I'm delaying the inevitable by avoiding her, but I can't face it. Tomorrow. I'll talk to her tomorrow.

That night I just wait in my apartment all night in silence, not even with the TV on. I tell myself I'm not trying to listen to the apartment several doors down, but I'm lying. It's hard to hear though. The people in this godforsaken apartment building have no concept of what a polite noise level is. Eventually I fall asleep, but only once I've titfucked myself a few times to the image of Christina's ass jiggle replaying in my mind.

Thursday

Early morning again. I do some more overtime at work. Mind is a mess of conflicting emotions. I can't do it. I'm so fucked up. All that confidence I had before has all but slipped away from my fingers. I was a fool. What was I thinking? A goddess indeed. How could I be a goddess? Look at me. I'm a freak. Giant-titted mountain of a woman, with a freakishly huge dick of all things. I hate that I ever thought I was attractive for even a second.

I'm mopping the floor around the meat section, scolding myself under my breath, when I hear a door open and shut. It's 7:30 am, way too early. People shouldn't be here. I came here specifically so I could be alone. Propping my mop up against the wall, I peer down one of the aisles. Shit. It's her. What is she doing here so early? She hasn't been here long enough to do overtime. She's still on her training period. I can only think that she's come here looking for me. Can't keep putting this off. Get a grip of yourself, woman. I try and breathe in and out a couple of times to calm myself down and wait for her to find me.

It takes her a few minutes of exploring the dimly-lit shop floor but eventually she spots me from the opposite end of the aisle. I give her a wave and a feeble smile as if to suggest I haven't been avoiding her for the last two days. Just do it, Christina. Just come over here and scream at me for fucking your boyfriend. I deserve it. But she doesn't. Instead, something lights up her face, and she practically sprints across the shop to come and give me a hug. Even though I recoil away as I always do, she stretches her skinny arms around my upper thighs faster than I can react, and comes inches away from pressing her body right into my dick. It all happens too fast, and the tiny girl quickly disappears underneath the balcony made by my bosom. I can't even tell if she might be feeling anything down there now. But eventually, she releases me and emerges out from under my chest with a beaming expectant grin. Says how much she missed me yesterday, asking where I was, and checking if Carlton had invited me round for dinner tomorrow night like she'd asked him to. I throw her some mumbled answers, claiming that I had a lot on yesterday, but my ears prick up at her final remark. Am I really in the clear? Has she not even discussed the dinner invite with him? If they haven't discussed that, there's no way they would have discussed the unspeakable things that I did to him the other night. Right? Maybe he just lied and said that I didn't answer the door.