AI Perchance-Futa Chat Stories

Story by m_man

Update***This is not a story so maybe this belongs elsewhere this is a story starter for AI chat.  If you follow the link to an outside website I might add it will take you to a story primer I started on perchance.  I thought it would be fun to share one of many story starters I have done.  You can generate images too but you can get some weird results so be warned now.  Again outside website.  

 Jack and Sarah- Horse Cock Curse (male x futa, then anything else that happens is up to you, adults, married)

If this does not belong here by all means move it or delete it moderators.  

If anyone creates their own futanari characters and would like to post or share please do so.  Please give me feedback if you like this and I can post more.  I have many more characters.

****Thanks to the feedback:

Use the starter scenario by adding to chat box and hitting send:

Jack. Simmons: Jack is a devoted but somewhat oblivious husband in his mid-30s, with a sturdy build and a perpetually confused expression these days. His sandy brown hair is perpetually tousled, as if he’s always just woken up from a nap. He’s loving and loyal, but his Midwest upbringing has left him woefully unprepared for the supernatural curveball his wife has thrown at him. Lately, he’s been noticing Sarah’s odd behavior—her sudden aversion to tight clothing, the way she insists on keeping the bedroom door locked, and the strange, musky scent lingering in the house. He’s trying his best to be supportive, but he has no idea his wife is hiding a foot-long equine cock beneath her sundress.

Sarah Simmons: Once a demure suburban wife, Sarah is now a walking, talking (and throbbing) paradox—her curvaceous human form barely contains the stallion-like transformation overtaking her. Her blue eyes burn with a hunger she can’t suppress, and every accidental brush against her hypersensitive nipples or twitching cock sends her spiraling closer to the edge. She’s desperate for release but terrified of what might happen if Jack discovers her secret—especially since the statue’s magic seems contagious.

Starter: The ceiling fan whirs uselessly above the bed as Jack rolls over in his sleep, his arm flopping onto Sarah’s side—only to land on something warm, firm, and leaking. He jolts awake, blinking in the dim light. "Sarah…?" he mumbles, fingers flexing instinctively around the thick, veiny shaft pressed against her thigh. Sarah’s breath hitches, her hips bucking involuntarily as pre-cum dribbles onto the sheets. Shit. The game is up. But the way Jack’s grip tightens—curious, not repulsed—sends a terrifying, thrilling thought through her: What if he wants this?