Chapter 3: Mrs. Fatima’s Fertile Harem

A nervous energy filled the apartment as the girls rushed through the house to get ready for school. All but poor Alesha were dripping with futa-cum. My futa-cum. Sa’dia, my eldest daughter, sixteen and lovely, flounced by, her green eyes flashing. Those emerald orbs set in her dusky face gave her such an exotic beauty.

“Thanks for breakfast, Mother,” she said, snagging a plate and hurrying to the table to join my fourteen-year-old, twin daughters, Basima and Naila.

“Yes, thank you, Mother,” the twins said in unison, grinning at me, their petite bodies trembling beneath their clothing. I’d deflowered them both last night, along with Sa’dia.

Only Alesha, the last girl to flounce in, still had her virginity. My sister’s fifteen-year-old daughter took her plate, a gloom look on her face as she slunk back to the table. She’d been so looking forward to losing her virginity after watching me fuck her mother, my own sister, so hard while writhing in lesbian passion with her half-sister.

I felt her disappointment. I wanted to deflower her, too. But my futa-cock had vanished twenty minutes ago.

My sister and I were in the kitchen, hurriedly getting breakfast made, eggs and turkey bacon, all halal. I trembled, glancing at the clock. He’d walk in at any moment. Our husband would be furious if he came home and no breakfast awaited him.

He’d show his anger with his fists. His impotence made him lash out at the slightest provocation. “Hurry up and eat, girls,” I said. “Ranya will drive you to school. We have to get you out of here before your father gets home.”

They should have left for school already. They all attended Franklin Pierce High School.

“Yes, Mother,” all of them chorused, my harem. Even if I didn’t get my futa-cock back, that wouldn’t change. My sister and our daughters were my women. I hoped I had bred all of them, except Ayesha.

Plates cleared, our daughters rushed them to the sink where I now stood, Tarik’s breakfast sitting on his plate for him to eat. My stomach growled as Ranya finished cooking up our husband’s breakfast. We married him in Palestine when she was eighteen and I was nineteen. We lied when we immigrated to the states, claiming I was his only wife.

And we both wanted away from him.

“Okay, girls,” Ranya said, “let’s go.”

“Yes, Mother!”

They all said, grabbing their schoolbags, pulling on headscarves to hide their beautiful, black hair. The twins looked so cute with their mischievous faces framed by their matching cream-gray headscarves. Ayesha still pouted, which made me want to kiss her so badly. My pussy dripped juices down my naked thighs beneath my nightgown, my black hair falling loose about my shoulders.

And then they were out the door. A quiet descended on the house. I bit my lip, my stomach twisting with worry. The futa-fairy gave me a wonderful gift. I made her a promise and in exchange she gave me a harem of my family. My sister, my daughters, and my niece were my women.

But the futa-cock was apart of it. Did Leanan Sidhe betray me?

As I set my plate and Tarik’s down on the kitchen table, I stared at my scrambled eggs. I had no appetite suddenly. Despite all the fucking I did last night, cumming so many times, the nervousness gripped me. I needed to get a hold of Dr. Rita.

I pulled out my phone, calling the hospital, St. Claire, where she treated me. Just as the nurse picked up, my husband trooped into the house. A big man, thick beard bristling, face weary. Without a word, he thumped to the table, sat down, and ate.

No compliment. No greeting. I couldn’t wait to steal his women from him and make them my own.

I stood up, “Yes, I need to speak with Dr. Rita Jones. It’s very important. I’m a patient of hers. I have questions about her, um, unique technique.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” the nurse laughed as I walked down the hallway. “I can send a message.”

“Okay, can you tell her to call Fatima Abboud. I have the same technique and—”

“You’re a futanari?” the nurse asked, suddenly so breathless.

“I was. I’m having a difficulty.”

“I’ll get the message to her right away.”

I swallowed, nodding. I reached my bedroom, sinking down on the bed where I took Sa’dia’s virginity last night. Then I froze, seeing the sheets stained with cum. If Tarik walked in and found my bed so rumpled, obvious evidence that sex happened, he’d beat me.

He might kill me. He’d never believe it was my cum and not a man’s.

I yanked off the sheets, balling them into my fists, and then hurried into the girls’ room. We only had a three bedroom apartment. Our daughters had to share a single room while Ranya and I each had our own. Tarik slept in whatever wife’s bed he felt like.

“You’re doing laundry now?” grumbled my husband as I dumped the sheets into the washer machine. It lay just off the kitchen in a small nook.

“Yes,” I answered. “They have to be washed.” I bit my lip. “Naila had an accident.”

“I thought she grew out of that years ago.”

“I left clean sheets on Ranya’s bed,” I added, dumping in the detergent. “But these need to be cleaned before they stain.”

He threw his fork down on his plate, cleaned of food. He gave a loud belch and stumbled off to his bedroom. I let out a relieved breath. The controls clicked as I twisted them. Then the washer machine rumbled to life.

My sister’s bedroom door closed. Tarik would sleep the day away.

My phone rang.

I bolted for my bedroom where I left it. I fell to my knees on my bare mattress, scooping it up and bringing it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Fatima Abboud?” a familiar voice asked. “This is Dr. Rita. I hear you’re having problems with your futa-cock.”

“It just vanished,” I said.

“Yeah, pretty normal,” she said. “Mine vanishes at dawn. It’ll come back at sunset. Don’t you worry.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, good. Why does it do that?”

“I don’t really know.” Rita yawned. “Sorry. I just got off work. Been busy healing people.”

I shifted, a smile growing on my lips. “I bet. Many satisfied women.”

“Many.” She gave a throaty giggle. “And I assume you had at least one of those last night. One of those daughters you mentioned.”

“Yes. Three of them and my sister.”

“Lovely. I enjoy my daughter all the time.” She gave a throaty purr. “She goes to Washington High. There is a teacher that she has who’s also a futa. She gets her cock from sunrise to sunset.”

“Really?” I bit my lip. “Why is she different?”

“Would you believe there’s another futa-fairy out there giving out cocks. She calls herself B and is the Winter Esquire. So she’s like Leanan Sidhe’s opposite.”

“Opposite? Are they enemies?”

“I’m not sure,” Rita said. “But in literature, there’s often two different courts of fairy. The Summer and Winter Courts, also called the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. They war against each other through proxies. Not directly, but through tricks and schemes. And they like to make deals.”

“Like what we did.” I swallowed. “Did you promise to do a favor for Leanan Sidhe?”

“Yeah,” Rita said. “I was just so excited, I didn’t think.”

I bit my lip. “And you say another fairy is involved? Making other futanari. Why do they give us these cocks?”

“I don’t know.” Rita let out a sigh. “But I’m grateful. I’ve done so much good with mine. I’ve healed so many people.”

I flushed, feeling so selfish that I just wanted to fuck my sister and our daughters, to breed them and love them. Rita also healed people with her cum. I felt it when she fucked me at the emergency room, soothing the pain in my pussy after I lodged a sparkling grape juice bottle in my depths, using it as a makeshift dildo one night while Tarik drove his cab.

“Well, thank you for answering my question. I’m very grateful to know I will get it back. I do enjoy it.” I squirmed, feeling so terrible. What good could I have done if I made a different wish?

“You’re welcome. I need to sleep. I’m bushed. Enjoy your daughters.”

“I shall.”

I hung up and then my stomach growled. The fear gone.

Ranya returned from dropping off our daughters when I finished eating. She left her plate in the microwave, covered, and ate it while I cleaned the kitchen. I told her what Dr. Rita told me. She let out such a relieved sigh.

And then my sister pressed up behind me, her body so warm through our clothing. She pushed back my black hair, exposing my neck. I shivered, and not because a frosty, November day gleamed out the window over the sink.

“I can’t wait for tonight,” she purred, her hands sliding around my hips, moving down my nightgown to my crotch. She nibbled on my neck, bringing another shudder. Her fingers pressed my nightgown into my pussy. “You’re going to pop my daughter’s cherry. And I’m going to lick her clean. Lick all of my sweet sister’s jizz out of her snatch.”

“Oh, you are so wicked,” I groaned, so glad that Tarik married the both of us, keeping us together. I was so close to my sister growing up. We shared a bedroom with our sisters and cousins, our extended families living in a single house in Palestine.

“You’re the one that wished to grow a big, throbbing futa-dick,” she groaned, rubbing her fingers into my pussy, finding my clit.

“I am,” I panted then grinned as she slipped to the floor. I looked at the washer machine rattling away. It’d drown out any noise we’d make. Our sleeping husband would have no idea that we were cheating on him with each other.

My sister pushed up my nightgown. The bulky, annoying garment slid up my legs and naked ass. I wiggled, my curvy body trembling. My nipples pressed against the bodice, my soapy hands pinching them through the cloth.

Ranya purred when she exposed the cheeks of my ass. Her breath washed over my rump. Then her lips kissed my rear. She planted hot smooches on each butt-cheek. My eyes rolled back into my head at the incestuous touch of my sister’s lips. She circled around my crack, spiraling towards it as I squirmed, my pussy growing hotter.

My juices flowed.

Rivulets of pussy cream ran down my thighs. My sister’s fingers parted my butt-crack. I groaned as she nuzzled between my butt-cheeks. Her tongue ran up my crack and brushed my sphincter. She circled it. Slowly. Teasing me. I shuddered, drinking in the incestuous delight of Ranya’s tongue. She bathed my asshole.

And then sealed her lips around it, sucking.

“My sweet sister,” I groaned, my back arching, butt-cheeks clenching against her restraining fingers.

“Mmm, you taste so sour and nasty,” she moaned before licking again.

“And you just love it,” I panted, pinching my nipples so hard. My wet hands soaked the front of my nightgown, the cloth clinging to my round breasts. “Just my little slut, aren’t you? My slutty wife.”

“Yes,” she groaned. “When are we leaving Tarik? I want to be your wife, not his.”

“Soon,” I groaned then gasped as her tongue rammed into my asshole.

She swirled it around. I squirmed and groaned, her tongue bathing the insides of my bowels with such sweet delight. The pleasure raced to my pussy. My hot flesh clenched, more juices dripping down my legs as my sister ate my asshole.

She plunged her tongue in and out, stimulating my body. I squeezed my nipples so hard. The rough cotton of my nightgown sent tingles down to my pussy. The heat from my asshole met the electricity, sparking and burning together in my depths.

“My sweet sister!” I gasped, trembling. “Oh, yes, you nasty little sharmota. Ooh, you are such a delight.”

She just moaned, pumping her tongue in and out of my asshole.

“Mmm, yes, you’re going to make me cum.”

Her left hand moved. I groaned as she pressed it between my thighs. I shivered as she rubbed her fingers up and down my pussy through my pubic hairs. She stimulated me. I whimpered and groaned, my snatch clenching, aching to be filled.

She filled me.

Three of her fingers plunged into my sopping depths. My sister fingered my cunt hard and fast. She pumped her digits in and out of my snatch. My whimpers echoed through the kitchen, drowned out by the washer machine as it thudded along on its spin cycle, rocking, rattling.

“Oh, you nasty slut, devour my ass. I’m going to cum so hard!” My bowels clenched. “What a wicked sister I have.”

“So wicked,” she groaned between plunges of her tongue.

Her fingers pumped in and out of my pussy. They caressed my inner depths, wiggling around, stimulating me. My body bucked. My fingers tugged on my nipples, stretching out my breasts as I threw back my head.

And screamed out my incestuous pleasure.

Wordless moans howled from my mouth. My pussy spasmed about her fingers. Juices gushed out around her hand. My bowel clenched on her tongue. I shuddered and gasped as the rapture whipped through my body.

My tits heaved.

My eyes fluttered.

Stars danced before my darkening vision.

“Ranya!” I cried out at the end. “My sweet sister!”

I slumped forward, hands bracing in the sink. Dishes clattered. I groaned, shivering as she swirled her tongue a final time around my asshole. Then she pulled her fingers out of my pussy and rose. I turned around, grinning as she sucked them clean of my juices one by one.

And then she kissed me on the lips.

I closed my eyes, clutching to my sister. I tasted my sour ass and sweet pussy on her lips. I groaned, closing my eyes, holding her tight. She was my wife now. As I kissed her, I claimed her forever, stealing her away from our husband. Our tongues danced, our lips moved, as we shared this wondrous moment.

“My wife,” I breathed when we broke the kiss. “My sweet wife.”

“Yes,” she smiled, tears in her eyes.

I leaned in to kiss her when Tarik staggered out of her bedroom, flinging her door open. She flinched away from me and I spun around, washing dishes again. But he just barreled into the bathroom. I heard the toilet seat rise and he let out an explosive breath.

We had to leave him soon.

Taking care of the house kept my sister and I busy for a while. We kept trading smoky looks and quick kisses. I went down on her pussy near noon, making her cum while she kept her hand clamped over her mouth so she wouldn’t arouse our husband from his slumber.

The twins were the first through the door when the returned from school, their identical faces beaming at me. They rushed up to me, both fourteen-year-olds throwing their arms around my neck and smothering my face in kisses.

“Someone’s been naughty, Mother,” Basima giggled. My daughter licked her lips. “I taste pussy on your mouth.”

“Ooh, have you and Mother been wicked?” Naila asked leaning into taste her aunt’s juices on my lips. She smacked them. “You have.”

“I bet they have,” Sa’dia said, holding her half-sister Ayesha’s hand. The two older teenagers crossed to me. Sa’dia leaned into kiss me on the mouth.

I tasted tart pussy on her lips. “Is that your flavor, Ayesha?” I asked my niece when I broke the kiss. “Or has Sa’dia been real naughty?”

“My pussy, Mother,” Ayesha moaned and then leaned in to kiss me, her lips seasoned with spicy delight. I recognized my sixteen-year-old daughter’s juices on her mouth. It made my pussy clench. Ayesha kissed me hard, clinging to me, pressing her nubile body tight against me. Her hand slid down, rubbing at my crotch, feeling at my pussy through my long skirt.

Then she sighed, breaking our kiss.

“It’ll grow in about forty minutes,” I told her, thankful it was November and the days were so short. “I only get my cock from sunset to sunrise. I called Dr. Rita.”

“So tonight?” Ayesha asked, her eyes so bright.

“Tonight, I’m popping your cherry and breeding you just like your half-sisters and your mother.” My hands slid around my niece’s hips to grab her ass through her clothing. I pulled her closer to me, kneading her rump and nudged my nose against hers, a little Eskimo kiss. Her arms tightened around my neck, pulling me in for the real one.

I groaned at the heat in her passion. Her lips danced as they worked against mine. Her hips shook, rubbing her hot pussy against me. I shuddered. Rapture surging through me. I pushed her backward, pinning her against the living room wall.

“Oooh, yes,” one of the twins moaned.

“Naila, you wicked girl,” Basima sighed. “Ooh, yes, finger my twat.”

I shuddered, loving the two twin sisters enjoying each other. They both moaned, their clothing rustled. I kissed Ayesha harder, my hands pulling up her skirt. My pussy burned. Forty minutes was such a long time to wait. I wanted to take her virginity now. I wanted to—

“Father’s coming!” hissed Sa’dia. “Get your hands out of your skirts.”

I broke away from Ayesha, leaving my niece panting, licking her lips. I had forgotten all about my husband. He emerged bleary eye from the hallway, grunting as he stumbled past his daughters. He paused, staring at the twins.

“Are you two wrestling? At your age?”

“Sorry, Father,” Basima and Naila said together, their sticky fingers fidgeting.

The moment he walked past, they shoved their fingers into their mouths, sucking off their twin sister’s juices. Their cheeks hollowed. They had such big smiles as they looked up at me, their headscarves missing, black hair falling about their faces.

I shook my head at them and softly said, “Horny little whores. Save that for tonight.”

They grinned at me.

“Now go do your homework. I know you have plenty.”

“Listen to your mother,” grunted Tarik as he poured himself a cup of coffee. I made sure I had it ready for him.

The twins scampered off to their bedroom. I hoped they’d do their schoolwork and not do something naughtier. They had such hot pussies. I licked my lips, remembering how their underage cunts had felt wrapped about my girl-dick.

I glanced at the clock.

Twenty-four minutes until sunset.

“What’s for dinner?” grunted Tarik as he sat down.

“Chicken and rice,” my sister answered. “It’s in the oven. It’ll be ready in an hour.”

He grunted and stumbled to the living room. The TV came on, Arabic filling the room as he watched one of the channels from our satellite dish. It sounded like a soccer game. He didn’t say anything as I busied myself in the kitchen.

“I’m going to sprout my cock, and he’ll still be here,” I complained to my sister in a hushed tone.

“Wasting some of the time that we get to enjoy it,” muttered Ranya. She threw a look over her shoulder. “It’ll be another hour before he leaves for work.”

“I know,” I whispered, my headscarf feeling so constraining about my head. I wanted to be free of it. I had moved beyond such modesty. I wanted to appreciate the beauty of my women. I wanted them to dress in Western clothing and show off their bodies for my delight.

My pussy clenched, a fresh bead of pussy juices working down my thighs as I squirmed. I glanced at my sister, the lumpy dress she wore hiding the delicious curves of her body. Beneath that baggy garment lay round breasts that I wished to cup, sleek thighs I wanted to lick, a perky ass that I wanted to love.

My clit twitched, so eager for sunset. I wanted to bugger my sister’s ass, to show her such a wicked delight. She would moan and gasp so much on my futa-cock. I let out a frustrated moan, pretending to busy myself in the kitchen to avoid Tarik’s notice and—

The sun set.

I felt it. This moment of stillness before the energy of the universe washed across me. The transition between day and night left me quaking. And that powerful moment transformed me. My clit drank it in, siphoning off the energy, taking a small sip, and used it to sprout forward.

I shuddered, glancing down at the front of my loose skirt. My swelling futa-dick thrust out straight before me, tenting the fabric. My swelling tip ached and throbbed against the material. I groaned, my cock swaying with my every movement.