Randomguy664's Random Futa One-Shots

Story by Gilgamesh

I suppose occasionally I may come out with a 'one-shot' futa story. Having a thread for just such an occasion would probably be snazzy. I've got ideas, but the transfer from idea to text can be difficult and time consuming.

Point is, if I don't plan on making it a series or anything, it'll go in here. I have three more ideas in the old brain box, but it may take a while for them to be finalized before being put into text.

First of all is a Xenosaga story I uh...wrote. You'll have to give me a little leeway, I don't really like, nor am I really comfortable with, writing fanfics. Also, I was running on 3 hours of sleep when I wrote most of this. Whether that was ultimately good or bad for it...frankly, I'm curious to find out.

The Real Man: A Xenosaga Futa and Male Story

By Randomguy664

Content:

Male fucking Futa

Futa fucking Male (no penetration)

Notes:

The male character (Allen) switches between calling the female character 'Chief' or her actual name 'Shion'. So 'The Chief' and 'Shion' are the same character.

KOS-MOS is the female android central to the story. She is NOT in the story, but rather mentioned. There's a certain yuri vibe between Shion (the woman who helped design and build her) and KOS-MOS.

There are NO real spoilers for the game series within, so no worries for those concerned.

Technically, I was trying three things at once with this, so it may be a little slow in the begining.

Around 4500 words or so.

Random Fact: If you want a Xenosaga futa story, this is the only thing on the forum. HA!

Either way you take it, enjoy it.

Downloadable Version (just don't put it up elsewhere and take credit for it, 'kay?):

5772

The Real Man: A Xenosaga Futa and Male Story

By Randomguy664

Allen’s hands trembled as he held the tray. Just on the other side of the door that stood closed before him, the Chief needed him. She had been ill as of late and pushing herself to the point of exhaustion as well as fainting a few times.

Originally, people thought that she merely had exhaustion. But after repeated bouts of fainting and the fact that she has been under an incredible amount of undue stress lately, it seemed like it might be something more then that. Something had to change, or else she would suffer more then fainting.

It was times like this he knew, and others would tell him, the he should be more of a man and take proper care of the Chief like only a man could. Allen looked down at the grey tray and at the meager curry he made for her. He shook his head and sighed.

He had been forced by circumstance to try and be a man and take care of her a number of times before…and each times he failed in a fiery crash of metaphorical proportions.

The door opened, apparently just as his resolve faded. Of course, that was just Allen’s luck. He sighed again.

The lights to the room were off, and it was eerily quiet, well, at least it seemed eerie to him. Allen crept into the room, if the Chief was asleep, he did not want to wake her. He just wanted to give her something to eat. He didn’t even care about getting any praise or gratitude.

She was awake, but sitting on her bed in the dark. Even in the dim light, he could make her out. Her long hair, which changed from red to brown depending on the light and time of the year, could be seen running down her back, just about past her shoulder blades. Her frame was also visible, though he could see it with his eyes closed as he does see it ever night when he tries to go to sleep, her curves were gorgeous. She could have made a decent living being a model, if she wasn’t so intelligent.

Allen smiled slightly. He lost himself at the sight of her.

“Who’s there?” She asked without looking back.

His smile died. She was depressed. “I-It’s Allen.” He said back at her. His voice trembled about as much as his hands were trembling the tray he was holding. The voice inside his head cursed and screamed at him, he was looking like a fool.

“Oh.” The Chief said dismissingly. “Well?”

The Chief always seemed to dismiss him. “I…made you something to eat.”

“I’m fine, Allen.” She said in that usual confidence that showed whenever she suspected someone was trying to coddle her.

As usual, whenever he tried to take care of her, after she first dismisses him and then confidently says she doesn’t need his help, he pleaded with her. “But, Chief…” Allen said as she walked toward her bed. “…you have to eat.”

Almost begrudgingly, the Chief accepted the tray. She then put the tray on the shelf behind her bed. “I’ll eat it when I’m good and ready.”

With his simple and almost pathetic gesture cast aside, one would think, given other people’s notions that he is useless and a wimp, he would shirk away with his tail between his legs. If this were any other s

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