Chrysanthemum (Futanari Bondage, Breast/Penis enhancement, Lactation)

Story by srb

http://www.asstr.org/~srb

Don't read if under 18 or illegal in your little corner of the world, like you'll listen. This should appear only on my site http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/srb/www/ F3, Futanari Palace, and basically should be wherever Pal's stuff is. Also at the Grey Archive, and some other places they might end up, they know who they are. Any websites that want to host my story must have expressed written consent to do so. I will list all websites that I have granted permission to list my stories there. If you are reading this now and find this on a new website, then please email me at somerandombastard (at) yahoo (dot) com

This is copyright me, so don’t call it yours. Feedback can be left here. I created all the characters, they are all fictional, and any relevance to anyone living or dead, is incidental.

Here’s another story in the Terraverse, this one about a decade after the events of Terra. It’s a complete side story, and one need not read it beforehand to understand what is going on, other than the fact that there are now nanobots that make some people futanari in the year 2522.

Thanks out to Basil, crudebuster, and Theromen for their help. They probably moved this story along more so than I could have explained.

This story contains bondage, orgasm denial, masturbation, condoms, medical fetish, futanari, breast enhancement, penis enhancement, anal, and lactation.

Chrysanthemum

Let me cum!

Let me cum! I want to cum already! God I just want to cum! Why won’t they let me cum? It’s not like I need to fuck anyone. No, all I want to do is wrap one hand around my cock and the other hand up my pussy and just fuck myself until I cum! God, I wouldn’t even need five minutes. Just let me put the head of my cock in my mouth and fuck myself to orgasm already!

Okay, I’m sorry I just, it’s so hard to concentrate. I wasn’t always like this. What the hell kind of thing is that to say, nobody is born strapped to a gurney aching to cum.

It’s not like I did anything wrong. I don’t deserve this punishment! I’m not some kind of rapist or pedophile or murderer. I’m not even a jaywalker! I pay my taxes and traffic bills and everything. I’m a nice person, really!

Oh god, I should start this out better, but I’m so desperate. They have me strapped to this gurney, or whatever it’s called. Oh yeah, and I’m naked too, so always looking at my tits and cock all the time don’t help. The table is plastic but has some kind of pads, with leather straps holding my hands and legs in place, away from my body. My shoulders are bound straight back, so I can’t even touch my cock. It’s only inches away from my face, all the way past my breasts. I can even feel my hot, steamy breath on it! I just wanna cu-u-um!

Okay, okay, just, I’m going to try the breathing exercises they showed me. It doesn’t really help the horniness, but thinking about something different for a minute is about all I seem to be able to do to help. That’s why I’m telling you this.

It started when I was in college. Well, when I was dropping out of college really. What do you want from me? I had everything at first, and then BOOM, and everything crashed down on top of me. My girlfriend dumped me, my boyfriend dumped me, my futafriend dumped me…hell if I had a eunuch friend it would have dumped me. All of my friends had chosen my other gender-friends, so I was left alone. I didn’t know anyone from high school there, and the only people my age who would talk to me were the teacher’s aides, and my resident advisor. The college was really cliquey, and I had fallen out with the only group I knew. So I was alone all the time.

Okay I guess that’s it, but what do you want to hear? It’s not like my parents are dead, or I have to avenge them by becoming a crime fighter. Oh god my pussy is so wet, I just want to stick a finger, just one finger in there, just give me two minutes that’s it, that’s all I need!

All right, sorry, breathe in, breathe out, and focus on your happy place Chrysanthemum. Like the name? It’s a flower, but most people just call me Chris. My mom was a neo-hippy back in the early 2500s. Well she said she was. So they all named their kids silly names. I prefer Orchid, which is my middle name. At least most people can spell it.

So there I was, depressed and crying myself to sleep, alone, every night. I mean, I consider myself pretty hot but despite what everyone thought, I wasn’t a slut. I just kind of had everything going for me. A girlfriend who was a whiz in history, a boyfriend who knew all about math, and a futafriend who could, well she could bend her legs behind her head. Oh and this one time she was doing it backwards in this pretzel shape and I…

Oh shit, think unsexy thoughts

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