The Futanari Virus E-Book

Veronica Sloan

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

A sensual mutation is transforming the women of Hapi, Delaware. As if by magic, their bodies are changing, gaining male anatomy in addition to their own! More aggressive, more powerful, and consumed by a passionate lust that borders on nymphomania, these frisky futanari cannot help seducing their friends and neighbors. 

This erotic futa tale is 22,000 words and recommended for adult readers.

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

"You keep staring at me," Casey said.

Robin smiled. "Yes."

"What do you want to say to me?" Her slender finger drew a perpetual circle on the granite counter, that narrow lip between the sink and the cool air of the kitchen. "You saw me, didn't you?"

"When?" 

Casey squeezed the lip. "Last Saturday. With Simon."

"Maybe." 

A husky laugh cut its way through the girl's teeth. She panted for a moment, then rolled her fingers up her throat. She tried to loosen the sudden knot that had formed there, or identify the source of the heat. But it was fruitless. She reached back, to the tie that bound her hair, and pulled it loose. Her dark tresses skated over her naked shoulders. "You watched me."

"I did." 

"How long did you watch me?"

"I watched the whole thing."

"Why?" She turned to Robin at last, and knew precisely why.

Neither woman knew why her body felt so hot, but they understood the sensation. Raw arousal was in the air, almost thick enough to taste. It emanated from Robin's pores and saturated the air that Casey breathed. Lust spread from her lungs to other sensitive body parts, until she was consciously squeezing her thighs together. She had felt this queer attraction the night before, when she smelled Robin's sweat, but ascribed it to the alcohol...

Simon had never looked at her the way Robin did now - the way, she realized, that the older woman had always looked at her. "Am I safe here?" she asked.

"I don't know," Robin said.

"So I should say thank you and leave."

"Yes," Robin said. 

"But if I don't leave?" Casey squeezed the counter lip. "What will you do if I don't leave?"

"I'll tell you how to thank me."

Casey tugged at her hair, and bit her lip, and gazed down into Robin's piercing eyes. "How do I thank you?" she whispered.

Leseprobe

The Futanari Virus

© Copyright 2018, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved

NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are over the age of 18. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Cover designed by Veronica Sloan. Cover Photo © Can Stock Photo / Wisky.

* * *

Preface

Small towns have a reputation for harboring weird secrets. Mid-sized towns, not so much. Unexplained abductions, mythological monsters, transformations beneath the full moon, these are typically the province of backwoods communities untouched by civilization. Shrouded in mystery, their remote locations preclude easy examination by skeptics. Larger towns are too crowded for bizarre incidents to go unsolved for long.

Except in Hapi, Delaware.

In terms of geographic size and population, Delaware is a small fish outside New England's bustling pond. Its largest city, Wilmington, is dwarfed by nearby Baltimore, and even by the First State's modest standards Hapi is a minor municipality. Minor, but not innocuous. It is a lively town, booming with new business. Its Fightin' Red Hawks are the bane of the university gridiron and its harbor supplies both the state and neighboring Maryland with commodities from far and wide. In other words, it is neither remote nor mysterious. Yet something quite mysterious occurred there in the spring of 2018.

To this day, doctors cannot explain what happened. If it was truly a virus that infected the women of Hapi, it was unlike any virus known to medical records. Some even dared to call the transformations "magical" in nature. The changes in women's bodies occurred suddenly and without pain. The few women who were willing to speak on record described the transformation as pleasurable, even intoxicating. They felt more powerful, more aggressive, and consumed by a passionate lust that bordered on nymphomania.

Transmitted sexually, the virus spread through Hapi's female population like wildfire until, just as the medical community began to take notice, it burned itself out. No abnormalities have been found in the blood of female residents and their bodies retain no characteristics of male genitalia. This has led some pathologists to doubt a virus ever existed. If so, the wave of hermaphroditic passion that consumed the small city was nothing more than a collective wet dream. However unlikely, skeptics prefer that explanation to its alternative - that something magical can still occur in our modern world.

For the most part, the women of Hapi are silent on the issue. They prefer to keep their naughty secrets. A handful of stories have leaked out, though whether they are true accounts or the fantasies of a single, prurient pen, this author will not comment. The following chapters comprise the more lurid reports of women transformed by what came to be known as the "Futanari Virus."

Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Chapter 1: Patient Zero

"Truth or dare?"

Robin smiled at the question but did not answer. Her cheeks were already flushed from the vodka, so perhaps Dawn couldn't tell she was blushing. She rolled her nail over the lip of her coffee mug. Half Diet Coke and half of Dolan's stolen booze, its bubbling contents were to blame for the small fire in her stomach, the warmth that spread out languidly to her wrists and thighs and toes. She'd heard that her manager kept bottles on the premises but she'd never dared to look. Dawn, cunning as the fox that she was, began and ended her search on the top shelf of his book case.

She'd tossed her red curls over her shoulder to wink at Robin, and said, in that alluring accent of hers, "Dolan fancies himself a clever man. D'you think he giggles every time he pulls his top shelf from his top shelf?"

Standing behind her, nervous as a teenager sneaking money from her mother's purse, Robin shook her head. "We can't..."

"Enjoy ourselves? Dolan is." Then she lifted Robin's trembling hand and squeezed it gently. "C'mon, love. Just a little nip and then we'll get right back to work."

"Oh, but it's so late!" Robin sighed. Outside Dolan's floor-length window the sky had faded from its evening violet to a cloudy black. The lights of the city winked back at them, and between the buildings those lights danced upon the bay.

"You're right," Dawn said, drawing her close and rubbing her shoulder. "Just the nip then, and no more work."

One hour later, they'd had considerably more than a nip. The half-empty bottle stood between their coffee mugs like a tiny monument to their naughtiness. The women sat across from each other at the little break room table, tipsy and silly but comfortable in each other's silence. The room was a fluorescent island in a sea of darkness, their table empty of anything but their hands. Their phones and purses were lost somewhere in the shadowy cubicle warren that surrounded them. Green and yellow constellations burned in that darkness, the dots of sleeping monitors, underlined by the occasional string of blue modem bulbs.

"I don't know what else to say," Robin murmured. "I've told you everything."

"Then we should play a game."

"A game?"

"C'mon then," Dawn coaxed her. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Robin said. She thought Dawn would be disappointed, but the woman flashed her perfect white teeth and leaned back. She threw her arm over the chair and cocked an auburn eyebrow. "What's the dirtiest thing you've done since your man walked out?"

The question so alarmed Robin that she banged the table leg with her knee. Their drinks slopped over and the bottle teetered on its rim. Laughing, Dawn reached forward to steady it. "Can I ask for a different truth?" Robin asked.

The foxy Briton shook her head and affected a Scottish brogue. "Nay, lass. You canna."

"Then I dare!"

"You canna do that neither, sassenach."

Robin crossed her arms beneath her breasts and pouted. Of course she would answer. She had to answer. It was the queer power that Dawn held over her, and had held since the moment she arrived in the office. At first Robin tried to convince herself that she was simply fond of the English contractor; she was playfully charming, effortlessly confident, and it took less than a day to discover their equal obsession with Haruki Murakami (she casually mentioned that upper management was leading her on a "wild sheep chase"); but now Robin had to admit that she had a crush. Her heart went pitter patter when she heard Dawn's heels approaching. Her stomach itched when she rested her palm in the small of her back.

For a straight, married woman, it was a curious thrill. And for a married woman stunned by the mess her marriage had become, any thrill was a welcome diversion. Dawn was mesmerizing. There was the way she walked, leading with her hips. There was the way she talked, boldly or coldly, depending on who she was talking to. There was the way she smelled, of course, and that burrowed deep into Robin's confused brain. Her scent made her lightheaded.

It was never clear to Robin if the woman's behavior was meant to be flirtatious or platonic. Dawn liked nudging her out of her comfort zone, so maybe she was simply an exciting friend. But then, when no one else was watching, she'd slip Robin a covert smile, like the two of them were spies on a thrilling adventure deep in male territory. And Robin was enchanted.

Once, as Dawn was leaning over her desk, she traced her glossy nail over Robin's designs and whispered, "Your linework is extraordinary. How do you do it? Keep such a steady hand?"

When the nail brushed Robin's thumb, she did not flinch away. She let it linger, warm and soft. "Lots of practice," she replied.

"If I could draw like you, dear, I wouldn't waste my time drawing square buildings for squares."

"I don't think I'm wasting time," Robin said shyly. Her heart nearly stopped when she caught the intense glimmer in the woman's eye.

"I know," she said. "Your dedication is heartbreaking."

Whatever her intentions, temptation or inspiration, Dawn had a talent for sinking beneath her skin. Now she was doing it again, using the game to draw Robin away from her comfort zone and into a curious haze.

"Define...dirtiest," Robin said.

Dawn added a finger of vodka to her hissing cola. "You weren't sleeping together when you were sleeping together. I remember that conversation very well. Now he's gone, you're alone. What do you do?"

Robin tried to dismiss the question with a casual roll of her eyes. "I haven't..."

"Darling! What a liar you are. I know you've done something, you dirty girl."

A chill went up Robin's spine. "What are you talking about?"

"It's all over your face. Right now." She leaned over the table and grazed the spot between Robin's eyebrows. "Right there. Whatever it is, it's playing in your mind like an X-rated film. Let's hear it."

The easiest explanation was that Dawn was psychic. If she wasn't, Robin was just an easy mark. She took a quick sip of her drink to hide the heat roiling in her cheeks. "It wasn't a... It's not like I slept with someone."

Her red lips curled into a feline smile. "So what is it like?"

Robin bit her lip. "I...saw something."

Dawn had withdrawn her finger from her eyebrows but kept it poised upon the table like a loaded gun. When Robin hesitated, she twirled it menacingly. "Saw something and...?"

"I have a neighbor," Robin said slowly. "I might have mentioned... They're an older couple, in their fifties, I think. I thought maybe Curtis and I would...be like that, like them. Someday."

"I think you knew better than that," Dawn said.

She was right, but Robin didn't want to admit it. She ignored the comment and soldiered onward with her confession. "They have a daughter. She's very tall. Very, um, energetic?"

"How old?" Dawn asked.

"I think she was just starting college when we moved in. It's been three years, so, I guess she's twenty? Maybe?"

"Pretty?"

The heat in Robin's cheeks trickled down her throat and tickled the skin between her breasts. Part of her (the drunkest part) wanted to tell Dawn everything, but part of her was still so guilty. What she saw, what she felt, it made her think of Dawn. Not the girl but Robin's attraction to the girl. Something in Dawn had awakened something in her. If Dawn was psychic then she already knew, but she savored every chance to make Robin squirm. "Oh," she said. "She's very pretty, isn't she?"

"Yes," Robin said quietly. "She's very pretty. She...knows it, I think. Long brown hair, lush like the bark of a maple tree. Athletic. She talks so loud, and the way her boyfriend looked at her..."

"Boyfriend?" Dawn asked. "What about her boyfriend?"

"I...saw her. With him."

Dawn propped her elbows up on the table. "Oh, this is getting very good, dirty girl."

Robin covered her face. "Don't call me that!"

"My dear one..." Dawn stroked the backs of her hands. "You know you get to ask me when you're done. I promise you can dare me anything, or force me to tell you my most embarrassing truth."

Robin peeked her eyes over her fingers. "Embarrassing?"

"But you first."

Robin's ears turned pink. "I watched them. I feel terrible about it."