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Wickedly Reviewed: Futanari Confession (The HuCow Futa Church 1) by Reed James

One of my personal favorite kinks is religious taboo. It’s fun to read about sex cults in action. It’s even more fun to read complete sexual desecration. Because why avoid sin? Temptations is only as delightful as the tempted is conflicted.

Wild Futanari Nuns?

Reed James’s Futanari Confessions (The Hucow Church) delivers a story of corrupted virgins with a slight dash of mind control. At first, the story begins with sisters Innocence (quite on the nose there!) and Rachel living as obedient nuns. They’re not simply virgins: Innocence finds sex inconceivable. Not even masturbation is permitted to her, even if the urge for sex isn’t going away. Because of their piety, they’re chosen to spy on a neighboring convent: one that has apparently gone pagan, and worships Aphrodite. An interesting role, since Innocence doesn’t even like to lie.

Succumbing to Hucow Lust

Yet inside the corrupted cloister, Rachel and Innocence endure the persistent sounds of lesbian sex from the confessionals. Woman after woman comes outs satiated and smelling of orgasm. Their sexuality is triggered, and the Aphordite’s nuns can’t wait to get their hands all over the visiting faithful. Innocence thinks she can resist. But instead, she suckles a futa hucow. “Drink my milk and surrender to Aphrodite’s love.”

That love is a sin that can’t be resisted. Reluctance melts away while a virginal pussy gets licked. By the end, Innocence loses hers and she has no regrets. Instead, she craves more. Finally, she reports back to her mother superior.

Turns out she learned to lie too. Innocence will go back for more, and won’t tell mother superior what’s happening to her.

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Jasmine’s Enslavement

…Continued from “Jasmine’s Hazing”

A bump and the prattle of pebbles against the side of the van told us all that we had gone off the road. If I had seen where we were headed, I might have ran away. It wasn’t simply about the place either. Had someone told me right then what great-grandma had done so many years ago, there would have been no chance I would’ve even spoken to Morgan or any of the other Phi Gamma Omega girls. I understand now why they put us in the van. It had been so much more than another way to force us to endure shame. No, that van was there to protect us from ourselves so that we could become free.

The car stopped at last. The back door opened with a creak. We stepped out into a courtyard with cobble stone walls around us. All the sisters were there. Two of them closed a wrought-iron gate behind us. Before us loomed a large Victorian home. Its black shingled roof rose like steeples to the cloudy sky. Its two lanterns on the porch gloomed an orange-yellow. The front door reached an arch, and on a plaque I saw ‘H.G. Constructions. 1962’ -my family’s company. We had built it years before I was born.

The sisters guided us into a dark foyer. The lifeless air cared nothing for us, but the lit, wax dripping, candelabra right past the front door awaited us. Morgan took hold of it, and then distributed single warm candles to all the sisters. She led us through stairs and halls until we entered what I know now was a chapel. A great stone fireplace stood at one end of a five sided room. Granite statues of chained male and female angels stood in the other four corners. Floor pillows, a pair of red velvet couches, and some ottomans were the only furnishings here.

Any sane person would have panicked at the sight of the altar in the center: A black clothed miniature table. A bowl and a bejeweled knife awaited us on top of it. One of the big sisters stroked a fire in the hearth. As it heated the room, Morgan motioned us pledges to a couch. Then, she took the knife from the altar, held open her hand, and made a long cut. She winced at the pain. Blood dripped from her squeezed fist into the bowl. Another sister rang a bell. Its tone filled the room in a relaxing vibration.

“Mistress of Phi Gamma Omega, lady of hell, and our patron,” Morgan’s voice projected in the room. “This generation of sisters gives our blood, as our sisters before. Come to us and judge which of our lambs is worthy.”

I remember so vividly the next moments. Each sister silently walked to the bowl, cut her hand, and dripped her blood into it. When they finished, they dropped a match into the bowl. A pillar of fire consumed it in a flash. Bristol looked like a terrified rabbit. Yumi held her hands together in her lap. Me? Yes, my head was spinning, screaming at me to leave, to run, to forget all that I was doing. But where could I go? Already I was becoming free.

“All kneel!” said a sister who rang the bell a second time.

The sisters turned and faced the doorway. All of them took to their knees around the room. Yumi, Bristol, and I followed them. The sisters began a whispering chant. Then the bell rang again. Then another bell rang. This time it came from the other side of the door. The tinny sound of the bell echoed along with whispered chants. Then our door creaked open, and the girls went silent.

In stepped a barefoot, black-robed girl. She carried a goblet, decorated like the knife. The girls moved and made way for her. She looked down at Morgan, who glanced up to her.

“Hello Morgan,” the girl whispered. “It’s been too long.”

“Hello Kayla,” said Morgan. Her short words dripped with remorse. Morgan forced a posture of strength. Kayla stepped between the girls, clearing space, and she did so with a serenity none of these other girls would ever know. Morgan’s heart suffered, I could see it even then. Two more girls followed, dressed as Kayla. The clasps at their necks held their hoods and robes in place. It created a long vertical parting that revealed their naked bodies beneath. One carried a flogger. Another carried a set of leather restraints. They motioned all the sisters towards the edges of the room.

Then she entered. I know what she is now. She is who was summoned, who offered a pact, and who maintains her bargain year after year. A woman, tall and with black hair set against light skin. She wore her thick, shoulder length, hair down like a glamorous 1950s film star. Her irises were of no natural color and glowed with a faint violet. Her tight bodice accentuated her chest. A black skirt flowed from her waist into whispy tatters below her knees. Leather straps criss crossed over her feet and up her shins.

Wings. She had a pair of oily, dark, bat-like wings coming from her back.

I wished to run. My mind told me to do so, to flee from something so unnatural and terrible. Yet my body would not obey. Bristol jumped back in fright.

“No! What the fuck this isn’t…” Bristol shouted.
A sister grabbed her and covered her mouth. Bristol muttered further protest, but this strange women look at her -at all three of us- with a malicious serenity that compelled us to silence. Bristol knelt again, eyes still open in terror and her lips sealed tight. Yumi’s breath hastened, but like me she stayed still.

“You have called sisters, and I have answered. I ask you, have I kept my bargain with you?” the woman began.

“You have, mistress,” said Morgan.

“Do you wish all that I offer you? Do you wish your lovers to be your servants? Do you wish to seduce those who stand in your way?” She took strides around the room. Looking over the kneeling girls and gesturing with her whole arms. Her spread wings churned the air. “Do you wish for years of lust without trouble? Sex without shame? To use those who would use you? To hear minds and to influence them?”

“We do, mistress,” said Morgan. She stood up as did the rest of the sisters. She motioned us, the pledges, to stay on our knees. “We offer tribute.”

The women paused and the room’s fire crackled behind us. She smirked. This woman radiated beauty like a black hole. It was this aura that would have kept me on my knees all night. One that even then made me ever so wet. That dress I had on? Already I wanted to strip it off like a whore.

“So you’re looking good, Morgan,” said the woman, this demoness. Her voice became gentle and familiar, leaving the theatrics of the ritual behind her.

“Thank you mistress,” said Morgan. Her voice was rote and without passion.

“The internship after you graduate?” said the demoness. “You did get it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, mistress,” said Morgan. “I’ll be flying to Los Angeles in June.”

“And what’s going to keep those sharks in suits from eating you up?”

“The power you gave us, mistress,” said Morgan. She gritted her teeth.

The mistress laughed.

“I’ve seen so many like you, Morgan. Regret nothing. Forget your sunken costs,” she said. She curled a finger under Morgan’s jaw and raised her own smugly. “Guilt, sweetie, it will eat you alive. Eat others instead.”

She greeted many other big sisters similarly, asking them each about their plans, where they would work, and what they would do. I thought of the wall in our sorority house. These big sisters would follow in those women’s footsteps, sucking the marrow out of life with unassailable ambition. I learned how my sorority had attained such glories in that warm, insidious, chapel.

“Now who have you brought for me?” said the mistress at last.

“Pledges, stand up!” commanded Morgan. “Stand in the center.”

We stood up and stepped with trepidation to the center of the room, lined up in bewilderment. We stood still. I dared to glance at the winged demoness who strutted around us.

“Now let’s do introductions, pretty little lambs,” she said. She pointed to Yumi. “Names starting with you.”

“Yumi,” she said.

“Yumi what?”

“Yumi Terese Allister.”

The mistress pointed to Bristol.

“Bristol Johnston.”

She aimed her violet eyes at me.

“Jasmine Haverton Vicinda.”

“Haverton.”

“A legacy,” I uttered.

“Right,” said the demoness.

She stepped around us. She tugged at my jacket and then removed it. It fell to the ground. Yumi’s fell next to it. The demoness pet our bodies with her hands and her wings, and even teased us with her undeniably hot exhales across the raised hairs of our skin. I don’t know if I could not move or if I didn’t want to anymore. When she cupped my chest, I tried to beg her to undue my dress zipper, and let my breasts be offered to her. Though those words stayed stuck in my mind. Already, I was becoming for her.

She put her arms around Bristol, and curved her wings around them both like an unholy cocoon. My mistress made the softest of kisses on Bristol’s neck, a peck so tiny, it was no louder than a rain drop landing in a puddle. Bristol moaned for it and gasped as the demoness stepped away from her. The terror in her wide eyes melt into a confused, and plaint, glaze.

“Fuck..” stammered Bristol. She undid the top of her shorts. Her hand went down into them. She touched herself in a fever.

“That’s it…” purred the demoness.

Bristol spread her legs and continued to caress herself. Her eyes darted around the room, and she was met only with the solemn silence of the uniformed sisters. One of the robed girls dragged a large pillow forth before her.

“That’s for you, little one. Get comfortable,” said the demoness.

Bristol dropped herself to the cushion. She undid her top and released one of her breasts from the bra. She got rid of her shorts next. Then put her hand back on her pussy, massaging it with a liberated sigh.

“You don’t come yet,” said the demoness. She walked to the altar and picked up the knife. “You keep pleasing yourself, but don’t you come.”

The demoness paced around Yumi, who stood as still as I did. Her chest rose and fell with terror. The demoness pressed the cold blade’s dull side to Yumi’s neck, who only craned her head higher and brushed her hair aside. With a flick of the wrist, the demoness sliced the cloth straps around Yumi’s neck. Her white top slid further off her chest with each other cut the demoness made.

Bristol squelched while she touched herself.

The demoness ignored Bristol and unclasped Yumi’s necklace. It tumbled to the ground and landed with a clink. Yumi’s expression melted into placidity. Her pupils opened as wide as unguarded gates.

“Jasmine Haverton Vicinda,” The demoness’s voice boomed in my head. “Stand beside Yumi here. Get a hold of her pussy. Both of you watch that slut over there.”

I cuddled next to Yumi. Her arm wrapped around me, holding me. My arm reached down and unsnapped the buttons at the top of her skirt. Some voice in my head told me that it wasn’t safe or normal. Wouldn’t I simply lick a big sister’s pussy and be done with it? I had been naked with these girls, but this defilement crossed so many more lines. Yumi didn’t stop me, but why did I do this? Was I doing it for my future ambitions? I had some purpose to join this sorority, but I was forgetting it. Because I was a legacy? That was a mere means to an end. The demoness desired this, and that single thought drowned out all others. My palm slid over the short coarse hairs of Yumi’s mons. I slipped my fingers onto Yumi’s folds and pet her.

“Yes… Jasmine,” she whispered. “Please touch me.”

We watched Bristol. She struggled, whimpered, and her eyes watered from the pain of denied orgasm.

“Do you want to come?” said the Demoness.

“Yes, mistress!” she declared.

“Can you come? Did I tell you I could?”

“No, Mistress!” Bristol’s voice strained.

The demoness squatted down. She groped Bristol’s trembling body, then took a hold of her nipple piercings and tugged. Bristol suppressed a scream of pain.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” she said. Bristol gasped and cried out. Tears spread from her closed eyes. “I can let you come, would you like that?”

“Please let me come!” shouted Bristol.

“Oh, you’ll come,” said the Demoness with a playful tone. “You’ll all come. You’ll all be doing what I want tonight.”

She released her grip on Bristol’s breast.

“Orgasm, now!” she ordered.

Bristol’s legs shook in release. Her orgasmic screaming echoed against the hard walls. Drips of wet juices from Yumi’s pussy moistened my hand. My own pelvis sweltered with heat. I wanted Yumi right then. My teal dress became nothing more than an oppressive barrier between me and these sisters. Never, not once, had I lusted like this. This demoness, this horrendously gorgeous monster, had been changing me since the moment I crossed the threshold of this house. I loved her for it.

The demoness reached for the ties that held her tattered skirt in place. The robed girls knelt before her, one bearing the goblet. On instinct, I sat in reverence. Yumi did too. Bristol, still sighing from her climax, joined us.

“What comes at no cost in the world?” the demoness intoned.

“Nothing at all,” the uniformed sisters chanted around us.

The robed girls tugged away the demoness’s skirt, carefully folding it and placing it aside on a pillow.

“My power is a deep well of water, and I offer you all a cup full,” she continued. “Let lust be your leash. May you all live sweet, delicious, and enviable lives.”

The three girls reached to the demoness’s legs and hips and rubbed all around her pussy.

“And we offer lambs to you. One to be your thrall throughout her time in university. Choose well, our mistress.”

The demoness smiled and tossed her head and wings back. She groaned as her thralls caressed her. Then out of the top of her cunny, erupted a thick erect phallus. I wanted that strange, unnatural thing. Her entire visage, wings, hair, and that thick beautiful dick had a magnetic pull on my heart. Though her will invaded my head, telling me to remain on my knees. Those cloaked thralls took turns before the demoness, each one swallowing and stuffing that shaft in their mouths. Jealousy welled inside me, and the demoness could tell. She relaxed her body, and her thralls brought her to orgasm. First, the thick white cum fired in spurts. A messy splatter landed between the sister’s faces and the goblet they held. Then it came in steady pumps. Heavy drop after heavy drop landed in the goblet as the thralls wiped their lips. They wasted nothing. Kayla placed it on the altar.

The demoness made sweeping strides around. Wings whooshed and fanned us. With graceful movements that paid us no mind, she extended her hands out and downward as if controlling us by strings. Yumi and Bristol crawled forward to the pillows, both of them half naked. They went at each other in feverish lust. Yumi kissed Bristol from her wrists to her neck. Bristol rolled Yumi to her back, and her hair covered their passionate kissing. Why not me, I had thought right then. So stressed and anxious, I did not want to kneel and stare. My heart palpitated that the demoness did not regard me though it delighted me to see Yumi get out of even more of her clothes. Bristol straddled Yumi’s face, and Yumi lavished her pussy. It had to have ached. Yumi fucked Bristol with her fingers and pleased the clit with her tongue.

My mistress squatted behind me. She pulled down the back zipper of my dress. She slid her hands under it and against my skin. At last, she touched me. Her possessive hands groped all over my body. She grasped my neck and tilted my face upwards to her. Wings wrapped around me and she conquered me with a hard kiss.

“Mistress…” I said. I could not utter my desires fully. Bristol moaned in another orgasm.

“Yes, little lamb, you will please me,” she said. “It would please me if you consumed Yumi until she comes on your pretty face.”

She released me. At last, I undid my dress and my panties. It was maddening, that I spent so much time in anxiety and indecision about that outfit. I discarded it on the floor. No longer did its fabric bind me or keep me from pleasure. Something, some distant voice, screamed a quiet scream. It needed to know what was becoming of me, what would happen next, if everything would be perfect, if I would make the right class, and a dozen other silly thoughts. Yet that scream became so quiet and distant against a singular domineering thought: I would be for my mistress. It pleases to obey.

Yumi welcomed me between her thighs. The first taste of her tangy pussy juice touched my lips. Never had I tasted that flavor before. I took hold of her pussy, palming and caressing it, and it thrilled me to hear the sounds of pleasure in her voice.

“I want your pussy, Yumi,” I couldn’t believe I said such things. I hadn’t ever done this before. I fingered her, finding her clit, and then played with her some more. Her faced flushed in delight. The will to dive down on her could not be resisted even if I had tried. I found my face between her thighs licking her long, tear-drop shaped cunny as my mistress wanted. Yumi sweltered with juices there. So much that the smell and taste overwhelmed me. The novelty, and unnaturalness of everything that happened to me might have stopped me, but now I craved Yumi like I craved my mistress’s pleasure. Yumi’s pussy splashed juices onto my face. Oh the sounds she made when she came! Yumi forget everything except pleasure as she wailed.

We welcomed Bristol in and we became a pile of pulsating lust together. We’d been naked together for hours, though never had we become this intimate. I had no idea that lips on my clit could feel that good. Bristol yearned to please me that way. I liked holding them, and rubbing them. Each new way that we found to tease each other only energized our tired bodies further. Our orgasms, our spectating sisters, and the aura of our mistress, consecrated our threesome, in all of its depravity.

“Split yourselves up now, lambs,” commanded the demoness. We obeyed and departed away from each other. Oh, I wish I could have held Yumi for only a few moments more. Though I did not linger on that thought long. The thralls surrounded me and I knelt with instinct. They passed around the cum filled goblet. Each one took a sip and swallowed the pearls down.

“Now you,” said Kayla. She held the cup out to me and I took it. They’d left a lot for me. “All of it.”

If you had told me that I would ever do a thing like this, in this chapel, before these girls, I may have abandoned my destiny. Now, I know never to overthink, and life is only to obey. I took the goblet to my lips, held it bottom up and let the thick cool cum pour into my mouth. The sisters and the thralls whispered a chant. The cum! There was more to it than a sweet and salty taste or the texture as it slid on my tongue. My mistress’s cum took the evanescent, post orgasmic bliss in my mind, and stretched out its euphoria. When I handed the goblet back, I looked to Morgan. Her face looked like it had when Kayla talked to her. I didn’t know why she looked sad. What was there to be upset about? She could be jealous of me though it didn’t matter. I’d never been so satisfied and serene.

“The mistress has chosen,” said Morgan flatly.

“Hold the bell, sisters,” said my mistress. “This one is special.”

Gears creaked above from the ceiling. A chain descended from above us. One of the robed girls attached the cuffs to it. I reached for them and my mistress closed their clasps around my wrists. The chains tugged back up lifting my heals off the ground, forcing me to balanced towards my toes. My mistress groped and fondled me. Her nails scratched my skin. She twisted my nips as she had Bristol’s. Oh, it hurt so much. I loved it.

“Morgan knew I would pick you, Jasmine Haverton Vicinda,” said my mistress with sadism. “I will tell you why.”

Her cock teased my belly so close to my wetness. I lifted my leg to accept her and my mistress stepped back.

“Your ancestor called me here,” she said. “She was the first to ask for a deal.”

She undid the leather bracers on her wrists, dropping them to the ground. Her thralls unlaced her bodice. Her perfect breasts came out. I wanted to place my lips on her wicked nipples and make my mistress feel good.

“She offered her dorm roommate as tribute.” My mistress stretched out her wings and arms, displaying smooth and vivacious skin. “I still wear that body today.”

She held my cheeks in her both hands. Her violet iris glinted with a new glow. She struck my cheek with a mean slap.

“I gave your ancestor wealth, power, and luxury. Without me, she would have been nothing, another anonymous, helpless, housewife.” She stepped back and gave me another hot slap in the face. “Smarts though, she had on her own. She knew better than to allow her daughters to come to this sorority.”

The demon held out her hand. Kayla placed the handle of a flogger into it.

“I’ve waited over fifty years, and through dozens of thralls to take a daughter of Helen Haverton.”

She whipped the floggers tails back and forth as she stepped closer. The flying tails inched closer. I arched my back, offering my breasts. The tails brushed over my nipples. I wanted it. I stretched my chest out further forward. I needed to get beaten. “Beat me,” I muttered out loud in a haze. My mistress closed the distance. The lush tails landed on my chest with thud after thud. Better than anything I had felt on my skin until then. Each slap hurt and left an echoing sensation of agony on my skin. My mistress did not relent and the will to keep my body prone held me there. I yelped at each strike, and begged her to continue.

“For the next four years, you are mine!” declared my mistress. She stepped around me with the flogger. Strikes landed on my shoulders, ass, and thighs. “You will wear what I tell you to wear, or will be naked as I see fit. You will attend classes when I say and leave them as it pleases me.”

She gave a series of cruel slaps to my ass.

“You will fuck, who I want you to fuck,” she sneered. “You will seduce who I command you to.”

My chest took another aggressive flogging.

“You will reside here, cloistered with your sisters. You will sleep in a cell or in a cage, for no reason except my appetite,” she growled. She handed the flogger back to Kayla, then embraced me. Her nails tickled my beaten skin once more. Talons at the tips of her wings grazed my back side. Oh, it was wonderful.

“What do you say to all that?” she hissed.

“Yes mistress. I obey.”

“That’s right. Now tell your sisters something else,” she tugged the nape of my hair, directing my face to Bristol, Yumi, and the uniformed sisters.

“I love my mistress…” I pronounced.

The chain extended lowering my heels, then my arms, and then slacked to the ground in a cold rattle. The little voice didn’t exist now. There was not even a quiet screaming one. Obey the mistress. Please the mistress. Those thoughts echoed with every breath now. How I would please remained the only choice that mattered. What did my mistress want from me? On my knees, with wrists bound, I dared to take hold of her thick phallus. I licked it and sucked it, just as my cloistered sisters had done before. Would she give more of her cum? I didn’t know, but I needed her dick in my mouth. The way she moaned made me so proud and so free.

“You’re good at that, thrall,” said my mistress. “Touch yourself while you suck me. Get wet.”

I rubbed my clit. The pleasure of the suckling and the ache at my clit made me more lustful.

“Enough,” commanded my mistress. “On all fours, thrall!”

I assumed the position. My hips tilted upwards. My pussy dripped with juices and my mistress glided her cock over its surface. Then she penetrated me. That painful stretch from such a hard, warm, and thick shaft put me in a deeper stupor. My mistress fucked me like a whore. She rammed me with an aggressive fury.

“I love my mistress,” I stammered when she turned me over to my back. I could not get enough of her. Her chest shook and her eyes glowed as she rammed away within. I twiddled my own clit, bringing myself closer to climax.

“Not yet,” said my mistress. “You will come when I permit you.”

She positioned my hips to fuck me deeper. I’d become such a slut for her. The will to keep touching myself, while suppressing my own orgasm overrode the pain and tears. The fucking changed pace. My mistress moaned and her beautiful face blushed with her climax. She didn’t need to tell me. My body released in time with her, and gushed juices against the cock inside me. Her cum pumped inside.

She pulled out. I flopped down to the stone floor.

“Phoebe. Samantha. Take care of your new sister,” she said. My two cloaked sisters came to me. They rubbed my ravaged body with this oil that smelled like lemon grass. It softened that throbbing on my skin. I might have drifted off to sleep under their soothing care. Though I stayed half awake, and aware of all those in the room around me. My mistress had flooded my pussy with her cum. I enjoyed that my sisters saw it drip out.

One sister rang a bell.

Yumi and Bristol blinked. Bristol looked around with wide eyes. Yumi reached for Bristol’s hand. They both sat there panting. Were they afraid? No, that wasn’t it. Surprised. That’s what they looked like to me.

“Well bitches, get your clothes,” said one of the sisters. Yumi and Bristol grabbed the rags they came in with and held them in their laps.

“Now you, little thrall,” said the demoness. “What will you do with that precious dress you walked in here wearing?”

The fire still blazed. Its orange light beckoned me to do what my mistress expected. I gathered that coat, that dirty old pastel dress, even my shoes, and my thong. I tossed them one by one into the fire. So simple I became then. No more apprehension, anxiousness, or brain spinning its wheels so fast that I could not choose. There were no decisions now. My mistress had made me free.

“Morgan?” said the Demoness. Her glorious cock had receded. Her wings folded behind her back, while Kayla tied the back of her bodice.

“Yes, mistress?”

“You’ve given me what I’ve wanted for over half a century,” she said. “Do you know Kayla’s time of enthrallment ends soon?”

“Four years as always,” said Morgan.

My mistress motioned Kayla forward and pulled back her hood.

“She needs to slowly adjust to life outside my cloister,” said the demoness. “I want you to take your old friend home tonight. She’ll please you if you want that, or not if you prefer. But you must share a bed with her tonight, and maybe longer.”

Morgan’s eyes brightened in surprise. Kayla stepped to her holding her palms out, and Morgan took them as if to lead a dance. They looked at each other for a time.

“You still there?” Morgan whispered. Kayla leaned in and the two of them connected lips. Morgan’s lashes opened wide, then she closed them as she explored the sensations. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said when they released.

Morgan then turned to Bristol and Yumi.

“Congratulations bitches, you made it. You’re full sisters now,” she said. The other sisters applauded. “How do you feel after all that?”

“You all did this too?” said Bristol. “Then I’m good. We can do anything.”

“I’ve wanted to be with women forever,” said Yumi. “That was my first time. I feel… well no one here can judge me, right?”

The sisters chuckled warmly. Morgan smiled.

“Yes, that’s how I felt too when I sat there my first year,” said Morgan. “Now you know our secret. Every year we pay tribute to our mistress. You’ll see these other girls around campus, in our sorority house and so on. They don’t belong to us anymore.”

She paused and glanced at Kayla.

“Now there is this door here that opens to the basement in the Sorority house,” she began.

My mistress turned to me and spoke softly.

“Little thrall, it’s time for you to go to bed,” she said. “Phoebe and Samantha will take you to your cage. Soon, I’ll prepare your cell for you myself.”

“Yes mistress,” I said. My robed sisters held my arms. They led me through the door and into the dark hallway. I became a cloistered thrall to a gorgeous demon. My mind became numb. My will was suppressed, usurped, and replaced with hers. What would become of me? I didn’t know, but placidity and pleasure soothed my once uncertain heart. No longer would I exist as I had before. I need only be for my mistress now.

End Chapter One

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Wickedly Reviewed: Futanari Farms Mounted and Milked by Bobbi Mare

 

Futas make Hucows out of lost Men

When it comes to taboo futanari erotica, be careful what you wish for. This book is delightfully depraved: two lost males meet a farm full of futas. What’s the danger? First, these futas run a special kind of dairy farm. Second, lots of futa on male sex here. Third, futas can’t be resisted.

Real world coronavirus crisis, and imaginative world building from author Bobbi Mare set the stage. Futanari semen can cure anything. But it must be processed through humans with the right kind of diseases. Sounds like there might be break down in production right? There aren’t many males lining up for the position. Thankfully, these futanaris don’t need anyone to be willing.

Hapless, COVID-19 infected, males Ben and Shane are lost in the Canadian countryside, unable to return to home. They’re ‘rescued’ by a farm full of sexy futanari. Irresistible pheromones work mind control on anyone the futas encounter. Well, almost anyone. Some men can resist, and the futanari have ways around that too.

Consequently, the futas completely mind wreck one male. He submits to futanari cock in every hole. Next, his body grows milk able breasts, and they dress him up as sissy cattle. The futas milk his teets and his dick because he’s a male hucow now.

The other? It doesn’t matter that the futas can’t control his mind. They have plenty of other ways to turn him into a humiliated little piggy, and harvest the  cum they ejaculate into him.

Like I said, be careful what you wish for.

This story was hot and filthy. It’s one of the most fun 12k word reads I’ve purchased recently. Enjoy!

 

About the Author

Author of nasty, naughty, trashy, taboo erotica.

As a mature sissy who grew up with the Nexus, Beeline, and Reluctant Press paperbacks, and who matured through Transformation, Forced Womanhood, and the Visions of Fantasy She-Male magazines, I have a lifelong love of erotic transgender and fetish fiction.

Submissive sissies in pretty outfits and erotic bondage is my signature theme, but within my fiction you can also expect to themes of find forced feminization, breast growth and breastfeeding, oral and anal penetration, chastity and castration, butt plugs and pegging, stunning shemales and fabulous futanari, big black stallions (both literally and figuratively), pony boys and pony girls, massive cocks with huge loads, and other deviant delights.

If you are not at least 18 years old, with an open mind and an insatiable sexual curiosity, then you probably shouldn’t be reading my bio, much less my stories. 

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Futanari’s Truth or Dare

The hot California sun hung in the sky so much brighter than the overcast northeast. It’s perfect though. I can finally purchase a home and be free of the frustration of New York rent. Driving around from potential home to potential home with my long lost friend Alina made it even more familiar. She opened the white door of a large home after undoing the keypad. Gesturing me inside, she indicated to the curved stair case, the recent remodel, and the wood paneled floor.

“Now let me tell you, this is one of the few California homes with a basement,” she said. I followed her into the kitchen. Granite counter tops. Nice.

They call it the golden state for the dry grass fields as much as that gold rush a long time ago. I’d flown away from Rancho Cordova and every other sleepy Sacramento suburb over a decade ago. Trading western wine country for northeast ivy leagues and a law degree changed me in more ways than one. Nonetheless, I’m still as ambitious as ever, hornier than normal, and mostly human.

When you get a chance to practice law for a state governor you don’t turn that down.

Alina walked with firmer confidence these days. Her heels clopped on these wood floors and her skirt fit her well. A necklace dangled below her neck, near her breasts, in subtle professional beauty. Her sleek auburn hair was held back in a cute business bun. Damn it had been too long since I’d spent more than a few hours with her. We weren’t raised in the tech bro part of California or the glammy movie start part of California either. We grew up surrounded by flat fields, suburbs, and cattle. It must’ve been a few weeks after high school graduation when we camped up by the rivers. Four of us had been skinny dipping and Alina and I swam off together. Reclining on a boulder near a tree we shared the pain of change together. Alina enrolled at a local community college. I’d gotten my bags packed for the northeast. We’d known each other since the sixth grade and that summer felt like the last we’d ever see one another.

When we a found quiet space down stream, Alina asked me to join a game of truth or dare. I chose dare. She dared me to kiss her, and she dared with a look as if she’d been thinking about it all day. “If we don’t do it now, when will we ever do it?” she teased. I hadn’t ever thought of our friendship that way, and she was right. So I pecked her lips once, and found myself wanting more. We snogged a second time, discovering what our tongues and lips could do. Our connection electrified both our bodies that day, and we made out naked under a hot central valley sun. It was the first of many heedless make outs. Those make outs tempted me. They tempted me to toss away my future and explore more of a life with her. Yet that summer of experimental lust remained only that. I had a life to attain.

I left that August. Alina did two years at the community college, before she married… well we’re not saying his name. Loser.

“I’ll be honest, I absolutely love this house myself,” she smiled. “I might move out of my apartment into here if you don’t buy it, Caitlyn!”

“Is that so? Maybe you should. It would make you-know-who, absolutely jealous,” I said.

Alina waved her hand.

“Oh please, I might want to stab him in the eye sometimes,” she laughed, “but you know what they say? ‘Success is the best revenge.'”

“Especially with alimony,” I added.

“Hmm? Oh Caitlyn I didn’t take as much as you think, you-know-who only just now got a full time job again anyway,” she added. “I sell houses and I’m doing fine.”

Warming inside, I looked to Alina for any hint of lust in her eyes. There’s no hiding mine. As a mostly human, I’ve learned I can have nearly anyone I want, whenever I want. A lot changes in a decade after high school, and me? Oh I had been changed in ways I’d never dreamed. Alina blushed ever so slightly. Glamoring her would have been easier than the time I seduced that sexy track star when I started law school. No way though. I didn’t want Alina like an animate doll dancing to my bidding.

“Shall we check out that basement, Caitlyn?” Alina spoke, cutting the tension.

“Yes.”

We entered the basement. Our shoes touched bare concrete. Alina showed me around the space, describing the possible uses of a nice open basement. She drew my attention to the air ducts above us, noting that this basement could even be air conditioned if I needed it. It was strange though, that a duct apparently dead ended into a wall. Looking even more closely at the dust on the ground, I noticed patterns that didn’t quite make sense.

“What’s beyond this wall?” I said.

“Hmmm?” said Alina. “Solid bedrock. There’s no danger of mold.”

I knocked on the wall. It reverberated like a muted drum.

“You sure?”

Running my hands all over the wall triggered a discovery. Painted over with drywall, a gear’s jagged teeth touched my fingers.

“Look!” I pointed.

Alina examined it, brushed away the dust and then her breath exhaled in excitement. She opened a dusty cabinet on the other side of the basement and pulled out a huge metal wheel. Its hub fit perfectly on the gear, and we turned it together. Something clunked, startling us both.

“That was loud!” Alina said.

“Are you scared?”

“No way!” she said. She sounded not as a real estate professional, but as my excited school friend two weeks after graduation. We cranked the wheel with all our combined strength, and a recessed bookshelf swung open. There was another room.

I took Alina’s hand and we walked through. Darkness greeted us, and I fumbled for a switch. Scones glowed on the walls and illuminated a room decorated like an old world wine cellar. Though this room? It had too be at least the size of the basement itself. A metal framed canopy bed invited us further in. It had metal loops and holes for all the wonderful things I could imagine. Wooden beams in that all too familiar tall x-shape leaned to the side, complete with cuffs. Inspecting them, I found the old furred leather in surprisingly good shape. There was a cabinet, more fetish furniture, and a treasure chest in the room.

“Oh.. Umm… wow!” said Alina. Her face. I could see the excitement on her face before she forced herself back into the manner of a sales professional. “Caitlyn, I had no idea. I’m sure we can get all this cleared out.”

“Why would we do that?” I said smirking.

“It’s naughty and not expected,” she said.

“It’s part of the house Alina,” I said raising my chin. “Though how can I know this works without a proper appraisal?”

“What do you mean?” said Alina. Her gaze already glinted with excitement. She couldn’t hide that from me. I stepped over to her, and touched her shoulder, her necklace, and let my finger wander down towards her breasts. She didn’t stop me.

“I think we need to inspect this room more fully,” I teased. “You want to help me out? Maybe lean against that cross there.”

Alina’s smile was coy, and her eyes glimmered in the soft sensual light of the secret play room. She nodded.

“On my back or my chest?” she demurred.

“You choose,” I said.

Alina took off her jacket. She turned, letting me look at the shape of her chest and waist under the tight button top she wore. She leaned chest first onto that cross. After inspecting the collection of toys in the treasure chest, I picked out a paddle and flogger to begin.

“Been ages, Alina,” I said. I swatted her with my palm and she liked it. Spanking her brought out the other side of me. The not quite human side. “Do you remember that time we went camping?”

“Yes!” she sighed. She gripped the edges

“Do you remember truth or dare?”

I swatted her again for good measure.

“Uh-huh,” she sighed.

“Okay truth or dare?” I asked.

“Dare!”

I hoped she’d say that.

“Get out of the rest of your clothes,” I said. Alina nodded. She unbuttoned her top, kicked off her shoes, and removed her skirt. All that was left was the lace of lingerie that made my own pelvis throb with heat. Fuck, I didn’t expect to tell her how much I’d changed, but it would happen today. I knew it. Alina had a tempting body. The tone of her stomach rolled with each breath. Touching her, I found her skin smooth and tight.

“Pretty sexy bra just for work,” I said with a knowing smirk. I unclasped it at the front and let it fall to the floor. Her nipples pointed out hard. “I’m guessing its pretty, functional too, yes?”

Alina leaned back to the cross.

“It’s my turn to ask?” she said.

“Naturally. Dare,” I said.

“Hit me with those toys,” she said.

I strapped Alina in at her ankles and wrists. Her long back and the cheeks of her ass faced me. Something though, didn’t quite work. I undid her bun and brushed her hair to the side of her face. My friend, beautiful in her exposure, trusted me so. It took effort to keep my secret from showing itself, and I took out my own tension with a paddle first. Each impact on her cheeks made Alina cry in pleasure. Moaning drove me even more wild and more wet within. That’s when I went at her back with a flogger. My lashing began with a light touch, then a strike. Each whap I made harder than the previous strikes. Alina yelped out and the echoes excited me more.

 

“Are you okay?” I said. I pressed my breasts to her back, and held my head over her shoulders. “I could beat you harder, or softer all night.”

“I like it. I like at that strong,” she confessed.

“Okay, truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“How many clients have you fucked to close a deal?”

“At least six.”

“At least? You mean you don’t know for sure?”

“Some were just for fun,” sighed Alina.

“Naughty!” I chided her. “When did you become such a slut?” I delivered further beatings to Alina. The pressure within my pelvis grew even more unbearable. Still, I controlled my excitement, and took a break. Hanging there, with pants of pleasure, Alina relaxed. Perspiration and faint marks from the toys shown on her back side.

“My turn?” she whispered.

“Certainly. I’ll take a dare.”

“You get naked now too.”

I unbound my submissive friend, and turned her around. I yanked off her panties, letting the glistening mounds of her pussy free before me at last. Then I strapped her to the beams once more. Looking to me with a hazed stupor, she whispered, “strip, Caitlyn.”

“Here’s a bonus truth for you,” I said as I pulled off my top, and got rid of my bra. “Things changed quite a bit back east. I changed.”

I undid my skirt. Every single slip of cloth tingled against my skin and my soaked panties tickled when I removed them. Alina, still confined, looked to me with craving. I dove to her, held her cheeks, and pushed my tongue into her. So tense. I was so damn tense. I couldn’t hold it back any more. Covering my pussy, I took a step back.

“Ready?” I said.

“For?” Alina said bewildered. All it took was one wiggle at my own clit. My lady dick emerged in a violent upward thrust from on top of my own pussy. Oh it felt so good for it to finally come out. Alina’s eyes looked to it in shock, and her mouth hung upon as if hungry. Saliva dripped from her lip. She gazed back at me, and bucked her pussy forward.

“You’re not scared?” I said.

She shook her head.

“Then get fucked,” I replied.

I pressed my breasts to Alina’s. I sleeved myself inside of her sopping tight wetness, making her gasp in shock. He dripping within marinated my stiff lady cock and I slipped in and out slowly. We ceased to be lawyer and realtor now. We had become as we should have been so long ago: vigorous, reckless, lovers.

“Fuck me, Caitlyn,” she stammered.

“Yes,” I said. My arms curled around the beams. I locked lips with Alina once more and she pushed her tongue to mine in a lustful struggle. Then I banged my hips in and out so hard that the cross began to shake. My Alina, my long lost friend, moaned for me and I for her. Each of us exhaled harder. Her milky breath brushed against my hair and she pulled at her cuffs.

“I’m going to come,” she whispered. Her pussy constricted around my girl cock.

I hammered her harder. Gushing, that unmistakable hot gushing, of her fluids splashed. She shook her restraints which each spasm and she grunted as the pleasure overwhelmed her body. Though I could not, and I would not relent. My cock smashed into her aching smooth softness until spittles of cum released with the spasms of my own orgasm. Kissing Alina manically again, I slid out. She hung there, worn out and I stumbled to stand myself.

“Truth or Dare, Alina,” I said while unbuckling her wrist restraints.

“Truth.”

“Did you know this room was here? This whole time?”

“I knew the previous owner had left something,” she said. “I knew what she had been into.”

“Curious though she left so much to play with,” I chided. Alina’s arms fell around my shoulders, and I held her for a short moment.

“So are you going to make an offer or are you passing on this house?”

I laughed with her. The released her completely from her the cross.

“Oh I’m definitely buying this,” I declared. “I think this will be the first of many delightful nights in the basement.”

We got back into our clothes and then groomed ourselves in a closet mirror.

“Hey Caitlyn, truth or dare,” Alina said in a crisp business tone.

“Truth, and you want to know how I got the lady dick don’t you?”

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