Family of Three (futa, incest), and other stories

I wanted nothing more than for the class to end, but the hands of the clock refused to move, as if time itself was conspiring with my body to torture me. Mrs Langstrom droned on, her words just noise in my ears. It was the last class of the day. Twenty minutes left until freedom, yet it might as well have been a lifetime.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, shirt straining against my rising chest. I felt almost feverish, skin hot and sweaty, legs trembling, yet all that was barely a blip on my consciousness.

Looming above all else was the constant awareness of the awful thing between my legs. It was even bigger than usual, almost painfully swollen, straining impotently against the rubber bands that held it against my thigh. Even on a normal day I found it hard to keep my mind off of it. Today, after two days of torment, I could scarcely think of anything else.

I hated it, hated how it bothered me nearly every waking minute, how it filled my mind with shameful fantasies, how it had enslaved me. Sometimes I wished that someone else in the class had one as well, so that at least I would have someone to talk to about it. Even if they didn't want to, at least I wouldn't be alone.

But I was. A freak, neither girl or boy.

In truth it was pretty astonishing that my classmates hadn't yet discovered my unique anatomy. The uniform at my all-girl school fortunately included a very long skirt, but I still had to be very careful when using stairs, and playing games in the schoolyard was a terrifying prospect. Mom had managed to arrange for me to skip PE, allowing me to spend those classes watching from the sidelines. It was simultaneously the best and worst class of the day. I had never talked much to my classmates, always the shy, odd kid alone in the corner, but my changing body had made even being close to them hard to bear. I couldn't keep my eyes off their beautiful bodies, captivated by the shape of their budding breasts, the way the gym shorts hugged their cute butts, how the sweat would glisten on their smooth skin.

My dreams were even worse, filled with visions of their naked bodies, the feeling of their hands against my skin, sweet voices whispering in my ears. I would wake up covered in sweat, shame flooding my mind, with a throbbing erection that would leave me sleepless for hours.

Normally I masturbated three to four times a day, reluctantly sneaking off to the bathroom when the pressure became too much to bear. I'd jerk off awkwardly, avoiding looking at the gross thing between my legs as I furiously stroked. Release always came quickly, the sensation intense, addictive. I hated that pleasure, hated how much I yearned for it, how much I needed it. The bliss quickly turned into shame, of my weakness, and what I was.

And so I had decided not to do it anymore. I simply stopped, determined to resist my disgusting urges even if it killed me. I hadn't touched myself in more than two days, hoping desperately that the need would eventually subside, yet feeling it grow every hour. Last night had been nearly unbearable; Hours spent tossing and turning, even my waking moments filled with vivid fantasies, most even more shameful than those about my classmates.

Now I sat staring at my desk, hoping simply for the day to end. I didn't dare look up. All around me were beautiful girls, only a few layers of cloth between me and their alluring, naked bodies. I could smell their light perspiration, the subtle scents of their deodorants and perfumes, as if the need boiling in my gut had intensified my senses.

The raised voice of Mrs Langstrom roused me from my misery.

"Why yes, I was talking to you Sandra. Come up here and complete the equation."

Sandra rose from her desk beside me, and despite my every effort my gaze rose with her. She was gorgeous, blonde and beautiful, eyes a brilliant blue. Few in the class had blossomed as she had, her body wonderfully curved, perfect breasts and a slim waist, flawless and smooth. I couldn't pull my eyes off her, hypnotize

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