The Secret Lives of Goddesses 02 Pt. 01byGeneraZ©
The following is, by a certain definition, a futanari/dickgirl story. It does NOT at any point feature sex with minors (individuals below the age of 18)
Jenn quickly applied a coat of her maroon lipstick, then began to more carefully work her mascara into her long lashes. She capped the little bottle and took a good look at herself in the bathroom mirror: Soft dark brown hair, naturally wavy, tied back into a ponytail. Light skin, unblemished. She could have done a better job with the makeup, but time was tight -- she had to catch the bus or else she would be late to work again.
It looked like she was ready to leave... but something was still left undone. She had an itch that needed to be scratched. She fished the elongated object out of her purse and made her way back to her bathroom. She gave it a quick blast of warm water, a little scrub with soap and a rinse.
Its name was 'Diana'. It even said so, in letters roughly inscribed into the surface with a switchknife. With a libido such as her own, it was easily Jenn's most prized private possession. Many a time had she staved off her desires with that metallic pink shaft: nine inches long and thick enough to always be a snug fit. With fresh batteries it was quite a treat indeed. It was the perfect toy for her.
Chances were she was going to miss that bus if she put it to use, but there was nothing worse than showing up for a long Friday night shift horny and unsatisfied. It really made it hard to concentrate. Some things just had to be done. Shame she'd left it so late.
She unzipped her snug jeans and slid them down her slender legs, her black thong joining for the ride. Wasting no time she dropped onto her desk chair and started to rub her clit. She was already a little wet, but once she started those well practised circular motions she was really raring to go. She slid Diana in slowly, her natural lubrication easing the thick object inside, and began to pump it in and out of herself. It felt so familiar, so right. Diana was the perfect size for her.
She continued to rub at her clit as she nudged the tip of that dildo against her G-spot. With a shiver of pleasure she shut her eyes, her head lolling back against the chair. She turned the knob at the base of Diana, and with a warm hum it began to vibrate, sending more shivers up her spine. She only used the vibrating function when she was in a hurry; typically she liked to take her time and work it manually, to make it feel like the real thing.
She worked that vibrating toy in and out of herself, sighing softly. She could feel the hint of her oncoming orgasm, and not a moment too soon! She brought it out a few inches and angled it upwards, pushing it into her G-spot once more. As it buzzed against her most sensitive place she worked her clit steadily, and within moments she was cumming.
"Mmmmh," she moaned, languidly smearing a hand across her cheek. Her moisture spurted softly, wetting her finger tips and dowsing Diana. With a final sigh her arms dropped to her sides and she lay there, breathing deeply as she waited for herself to regain the will to get up and leave. Not bad, considering how quick she'd been.
She finally got off of that chair and lazily dragged her thong and jeans up her legs, dropped Diana back into her purse, and started on her commute.
In her indulgence Jenn had missed her bus and arrived in the next one, fifteen minutes after the start of her shift. She was running as fast as she'd dare without the support of a sports bra as she closed the distance between the bus stop and her work.
"Jenn, right on time as always," her manager gruffly barked. "We're gonna be swamped and Trish has been covering your section. She just seated a party of six. Now go get changed and get your butt out there."
"Sorry, yeah... okay," Jenn mumbled as she went straight to the women's staff washroom.
It was a quick change as she'd already left her apartment in the intended bra and tank top. She undid her jeans and shimmied out of them, then slid the blue miniskirt up her legs. She wrapped the belt which held her pen, notepad and change around her hips, then stepped into her knee-high platform boots. After checking herself in the mirror and confirming that she looked sufficiently good she stashed her purse in her locker and headed out into the dining room.
Pretty though she was it wasn't mainly her face that got her her tips. She'd been blessed with a body that was sinfully curved in all of the right places. Her bottom swelled out after a thin waist, to give way to sexy thighs and long slender legs. And to cap it all off, her bouncy set of breasts were hoisted high beneath her black tank top by her bra, an impressive 34DD. It was a slutty getup for sure, but this was serious business. On a weekend night she and the other waitresses would each easily make hundreds in tips. She was having no problems paying her way through school.
As it always was after five on a Friday, the place was starting to bustle. More beautiful women in blue miniskirts and boots stalked about, taking orders of beer and wings as sports played on flat screen televisions.
"Jenn, your party of six is over there," Trish hurriedly exhaled as she pointed out the table. "I just seated them, so you can start with drinks."
"Right, thanks. And thanks for covering me, I'll get you back sometime."
"Sure you will," the girl said sarcastically. With a flick of her auburn hair she was gone to take another order.
Jenn surveyed that table: All female, most of them probably not over twenty five. Not exactly the sort of table that usually tipped well. She made her way over.
They were quite a loud bunch, cackling at each others jokes and playfully slapping each other even as Jenn arrived. "Welcome to Max's Wings and Ribs. Can I start you off with any drinks?" She took a look at the six ladies. They were a motley assortment, and the only common thread being that they were all very attractive. If they waited the same tables as Jenn they'd easily make as many tips as she did... yet the blonde haired girl sitting at the furthest corner of the table was the only one to make any significant impression on her. She was absolutely gorgeous, like some archetypal sexified image of the perfect woman. She wore a close fitting white baby-tee, and the outline of a pink bra could be discerned under, holding a round pair that dwarfed Jenn's own impressive set. Despite the size of that chest she looked trim and fit. She was surrounded by all of the others, as if she were the centre of attention.
As Jenn's brown eyes met the blonde's green ones she had a moment of faint recognition. Not a moment after did realization dawn on Jenn, and it hit her hard. A wave of heat swept over her as old forgotten feelings returned... it was an overwhelming rush which she was completely unprepared for, making her heart beat faster and her legs tremble. She couldn't tell if the blonde knew who she was, for her gaze was unreadable.
"Jenn," the blonde said, a wide grin creeping over her face. "Jenn Albrook..." So the blonde recognized her.
"Diana," Jenn breathed, her voice suddenly a weak croak. "Ah, Diana," she repeated more clearly.
"Wow, look at you! All grown up. I thought I'd run into you someday. I just moved here half a year ago."
"Oh, yeah... you don't say." Jenn's cheeks flushed, and she was a little tongue-tied. She found her eyes flitting back down to that chest. Yeah, I'm not the only one that did some growing...
Before conversation could continue one of the other girls interrupted, caring little for their surprise reunion. "We're just having drinks. I'll have a sangria," said the girl, a rather prissy looking one with shoulder length brown hair.
Jenn snapped back to reality and turned her face down to her notepad. "Hmm, alright..."
"Pint of Guiness," said the lighter brown haired one next to her. She had tattoos on her arms, a stark contrast to the rathy preppy look of the girl who first ordered.
A cold sweat was developing on Jenn's brow. She was finding it hard to concentrate, and sensing Diana checking her out in her peripherals as she took the others orders wasn't helping. She had to ask the last one, a woman who must have been ten years older than the rest, to repeat herself. Words were simply no longer registering.
"Alright, I'll have those in a jiff," she said. At her station she punched in their drinks, then she left for the staff area in a hurry. She needed to gather herself back together. Maybe a breath of fresh air, or a cool glass of water. Or...
She opened her locker and grabbed her purse, then headed straight for the womens staff washroom.
Jenn sat herself on that toilet and frantically fished through her purse. Her fingers wrapped around 'Diana', that wonderful tool which had been named after the beautiful goddess whose entourage was waiting for drinks out in the dining room. Setting one booted leg on the door of that bathroom stall, she dropped her purse and immediately plunged Diana deep, pushing the thin strap of her thong out of the way. It was an easy entry thanks to the profuse wetness of her reaction to their reunion.
Diana Dennis... I can't believe you're here. Oh, god...
She shut her eyes and reminisced on all the things they had shared when they were younger. After seeing her again the old feelings and images were so clear. Ever since the day they said goodbye, when Jenn and her family had to move to the other side of the country, she'd clung dearly to her memories of their times together. Now they were in a sharpened focus and she could not deny the desire she felt.
She had been with her share of men and boys since moving to the west coast, but all her relationships were fleeting. They just couldn't compare to what she and Diana had. What they had had was perfect. So she had given up on males.
...Yet she also didn't find the thought of sexual relations with another female very exciting. In the end all she had was that nine inch long pink vibrating dildo, which was named after the first and last person to ever please her.
Diana, physically speaking, was something very rare, and while Jenn didn't especially care for either men or women, she'd do anything for what she was: 'the best of both worlds'. It was a secret she'd revealed long ago to her. While they'd appeared to be best friends, they were actually much more.
It all started at fourteen when Jenn began high school. There Diana was, and suddenly Jenn Albrook wasn't the prettiest girl in the grade... not by a long shot. Diana was well ahead of the other girls in terms of how developed she was, in fact she was already able to make full grown women jealous. She was also the most intelligent person in the school, and the girls admired her as some sort of 'alpha female' while the boys placed her on a pedestal as an unattainable prize. Yet she was Jenn's, and Jenn was hers.
They were fifteen when the Albrook family moved west to Vancouver. There was nothing Jenn could do about it. It was an extremely painful experience that probably scarred her for the rest of her life. Somehow she needed Diana, in a physical sense, and it took years to recover.
Had she ever even truly healed? One could argue that she hadn't, not when every day she pleasured herself with a toy named after her. It was the closest thing she could find to her memories of the real Diana, in terms of its dimensions and feel, and she often found herself fantasizing about old times while using it.
They had spoke once on the phone after the move, but doing so was just too painful for her. She'd realized then that if she were ever to carry on with her life, she would have to cut Diana out, so Jenn intentionally didn't keep in touch with her.
Her memories of Diana were nothing but a private fantasy until that Friday night at work. It all came crashing back in, and all Jenn could do was fuck herself silly with that vibrator in an attempt to get her head straight again.
"Damn you," she whispered as her climax approached. "Why did you have to come here? I was doing fine."
She clenched her fist and bit on one finger as her climax began. It came hard, and by the time she was done she was gasping for air, totally winded.
"I already brought them their drinks, and they're paying the bill now," Trish said as Jenn rushed back into the dining room. "Now can you please handle your own section?"
Jenn nodded, feeling slightly panicked. She must have been in the washroom for longer than she thought. Looking over at that table, she could see Diana and the five other young ladies laughing and carrying on while the older woman at the table laid down a couple paper bills. Meanwhile other patrons were starting to seat themselves in her section.
She made her way over to their table and gathered that wad of bills.
"Sorry I was away, I got tied up a bit," Jenn said.
"That's fine," said the older woman.
"Would you like change?"
"No thanks." Despite her age the woman was easily able to hang with the other girls. She flaunted the fact with an indecently generous view of her mature cleavage, her red dress clinging to what must have been a yoga-trimmed body. Her brown hair was streaked blonde in places, and there was a wedding ring on her finger.
"So was everything to your liking here?" Jenn said, directing her attention towards Diana.
"Oh, sure. Quick round of drinks and a sighting of an old friend... what's not to like?" Her smile was disarming.
Jenn chuckled softly as she felt her cheeks flush. She had the impression that the other girls at that table were leering at her, examining her even, and perhaps not in the most welcoming fashion. They were tightly packed around that table, forming an impenetrable barrier between herself and Diana.
"Well we're off then. Places to go, things to do. It was nice seeing you, after all this time," Diana said with a courteous smile. The other girls were getting to their feet and sauntering over to the door. As Diana rose Jenn fought the urge to look down and search for signs of that which she and Diana once kept secret. Despite that extended session in the staff washroom she still seemed to have certain things on her mind. Her peripheral vision was sufficient for her to disappointedly note that below Diana's white baby-tee she wore a denim skirt; an item that would not highlight any of those anatomical peculiarities.
She stepped back as they passed. Diana was the last to come, and they paused before each other, hesitating for moment. The gorgeous blonde spread her arms, and with a submissive mew Jenn came close for a brief hug. To touch Diana and smell her again, after all those years... she was swooning inside.
And then they were gone.
It was the end of the night and the restaurant was closing. The waitresses were gathered at their station to count their tips.
"Oh yeah Trish, here's the tip from that party of six. Least I can do after you covered me," Jenn said as she fished out the twenty dollar bill she owed.
"Sure, thanks," she said, grabbing it without even looking up from her work.
Jenn started to sift through the rest of her bills. At a glance, she'd pulled in something in the ballpark of four hundred dollars that night... not too shabby! As she flipped through she found that somehow a little slip of paper made it in there. It was a jagged piece, torn off of a full sized sheet. She examined the writing on it:
Call me! (604) 555 -- 9276
Jenn was pretty sure she could still recognize Diana's writing... if she could, that was definitely her number. She must have slipped it in during that brief hug.
She crumpled that paper into the palm of her hand, and then in a moment of silent vulnerability held her clenched fist over her mouth. What to do with it? She could throw it away and continue as she had been after their separation, pretending Diana didn't exist, even though in her fantasies she was as real ever. It was a predictable life, free of the pain of feeling that that magical girl was out there somewhere without her. On the other hand, she could call that number, and then who knew what aches or pleasures that might bring...?
We must begin this letter with an apology. From the bottom of our hearts, we hope you can forgive us for not being a part of your life.
You don't know who we are, and surely you love your adoptive family as you would your own flesh and blood. To you we are strangers, but if you were not aware that you were adopted, then let it be known to you that, we the writers of this letter, are your biological parents.
In our defence, it is the natural way of our kind to not personally raise a child. A child of our race is capable of raising herself, provided she has a nurturing setting in her earliest years. We made sure you did.
It's been apparent to you, I'm sure, that you are not like the other girls, or boys, for that matter. I am not merely referring to any of your most obvious physical differences. We safely assume you have always known that you are not 'human', by any conventional definitions. You have always felt that you are special, a breed apart from the rest. Indeed, there are many things about you that make you different from the others.
Now that you have turned twelve we have sent you this letter, primarily, to explain to you just what you are. In this time of growth, it would be of immense benefit for you to understand certain things about yourself... things no one else can tell you. Some of these things you will have already realized but some you are yet to know.
First, simply to get them out of the way, the things you already know:
- You have the outward appearance and identity of a female (and might I add, if you are anything like your mother, you are beautiful beyond comparison), but you secretly bear certain male features.
- You are far more intelligent than any of the other children your age, and probably almost all of the adults you know.
- You have the physical strength to overcome situations others wouldn't dream of handling.
- You have a superior immune system, such that you have never been sick and your injuries fade quickly.
With that out of the way, we can move on to the interesting part:
- As intelligent as you are, your intellect will only expand further as you grow up. Soon you will understand life in ways unfathomable to humans. With this knowledge, the world is yours to do whatever you see fit. We pray that you use this power non-destructively.
- You are immortal. Eternal youth is yours, and while you may someday die in some accident the likelihood of that happening is rather slim. Chances are, you will live for millenia, as your mother and I will also.
If that seemed hard to believe, what follows will challenge you further, not due to its outlandishness as much as due to its... strangeness.
As you mature certain instincts will develop, in fact you may have already began to feel their influence. Those instincts are the main driving force of our race. They may have already led you to a human female companion whom you have chosen to share your secret with... one who strikes you as more worthy than any of the others. I trust you have been wise enough to keep that secret hidden if that is so. Rest assured in knowing, then, that there is no risk in her bearing any child of yours... after all, she is not of the same species. She will become very attached to you, 'mated' you might say, as would any other female human who shares your intimacy.
As you and your companion share yourselves with each other she will begin to change, to become more like you. She will become strong and more fertile. Eventually she will become an immortal female of our species, and at that point she will already be bearing your child. It may seem strange to consider now, but your instincts will drive you to have that child. It is the way of our people, for we are born as only one gender and require the human race to breed. What I have just described is the sort of relationship, between your mother and I, which led to your creation.