Chapter 1: Futa's First Naughty Practice

April 17th, 2047

The moment the talk show went to commercial break, my young wife, Sharron, bustled out from backstage already hiking up her skirt. She still held my panties in her hand, having stolen them from me two breaks ago, leaving my futa-cock to tent my skirt.

“Two minutes,” the producer said, a young man with his hair dyed and spiked.

“I’ll get her off in two minutes,” Sharron said, her strawberry-blonde hair falling about her lovely face. She had such friendly, blue eyes, her body tall and slender, our third child just starting to swell her belly, giving her a vital look.

“Thank you,” I groaned. Telling my life story to the studio audience, and the world, was making me so horny. I never got tired of speaking about my life as the world’s first futa, but today’s broadcast, celebrating my forty-eighth birthday, had me so turned on.

I hiked up my skirt, my futa-dick thrusting out hard and throbbing. Adelia Tash, the caramel-skinned talk show host, let out a wanton whimper as she sat beside me on the interview couch. An equal, wanton moan came from the women in the audience.

“Go Mom!” someone shouted, one of my thousands upon thousands of futa-daughters was in the crowd. I was the futa-mother of an entire new gender.

“Let’s get you off,” Sharron said as she turned around, her cute tush facing me.

“You are an angel,” I groaned, holding up my cock as she sat down on my lap. The trimmed fur of her muff brushed my sensitive tip moments before her pregnant cunt engulfed my futa-dick in her hot passion. I groaned, leaning back into the love seat, my eyes fluttering at the delicious delight.

The women in the audience cheered louder.

“Breed me, Becky!”

“I want your baby!”

“I’ll sit on your dick!”

“Maybe we should have a contest and let one lucky woman get bred by you before we’re done today,” Adelia moaned, her hands rubbing at her thighs.

“Maybe,” I groaned, just savoring Sharron’s pussy sliding up and down my dick. I was over twice her age, but I was so glad I found her. This young, beautiful creature had captured my heart. I went so long thinking I’d never fall in love again after Kurt.

The only boyfriend I ever had. The man who took my virginity and somehow made me into a futa in the process.

“Ooh, Sharron, yes, yes, yes, fuck me,” I moaned. “You’re such a wonderful wife.”

She threw a look over her shoulder, her blue eyes hot and smoky. She clenched down her cunt. “Just dump your cum into me. Don’t care about my pleasure. You need to get through the rest of today.”

“Yes!” I gasped, grabbing her hips as she worked her cunt faster and faster up and down my cock.

She put her all into it, squeezing and clenching her snatch on my dick, pumping her hips as fast as she could. She swiveled them around, stirring her sheath about my cock. Pleasure rippled through me. I sucked in a deep breath, my toes curling.

It was incredible. She was incredible. She gave me such a wondrous gift. I was so lucky to have met her. To love her. Her silky pussy massaged my cock, her hole so hungry for my cum to spurt into her pregnant depths.

“Sharron!” I gasped.

“One minute,” the producer said.

“Cum in her, Becky!” cheered someone in the audience.

“Cum in me!”

“I want to bear you another daughter!”

“Breed me, Becky!”

“They are loving it,” Adelia groaned. “Oh, my, but your wife is lucky to get that cock every day.”

“I am!” Sharron moaned. “I’m so blessed to have Becky in my life. My parents always told me so much about her.”

“They had a wild wedding,” I moaned, smiling. My hips thrust up into her cunt.

“Thirty seconds.”

“Almost there,” I panted, squeezing my wife’s hips. “Come on, Sharron, just a little more and—”

She slammed down my dick, taking me to the hilt in her silky heaven.

My cock erupted. Before the hundreds in the studio audience, the crew, and Adelia, I pumped my wife’s pussy full of my girl-spunk. It fired out of my cock and into her pussy’s depths. I shivered, my blonde hair brushing my shoulders as I trembled.

“Sharron, yes!”

“Fifteen seconds!”

My cum kept spurting. Her pussy convulsed. She joined me in rapture. Her cunt milked my cock, spasming about my girth. I gasped, my own pussy also writhing. My juices flowed out, soaking the back of my dress.

“Ten seconds.”

“Yes, yes, yes, Becky!” howled Sharron.

“Five,” the producer said, his voice strained.

I spurted a final time into my wife’s pussy.

“Four.”

Sharron groaned and jumped off of me.

“Three.”

I sucked in a deep breath, my entire body buzzing, and shoved my skirt down my softening dick. I shivered, the shaft still sensitive from my powerful orgasm. The producer mouthed “two, one,” and then the red lights on the three cameras came on.

We were live-streamed to the world.

“Welcome back,” Adelia purred, her nipples so hard against her blouse. “We’re still talking with Madam President Becky Woodward, celebrating her life on the day of her forty-eighth birthday.” Adelia gave a soft laugh. “And you don’t look like you’re that old.”

“Well, when you have an active lifestyle, it helps.”

Adelia laughed. “So all that pussy you get keeps you young?”

“I still feel like I’m a girl in college.”

“Mmm, I bet.” Adelia shuddered. “Before we had to take a break to hear from our sponsors, you were about to tell us the story of how you joined the University of Washington’s cheer squad. Something about you knocking up half their team?”

“All their team,” I said. “Except the new members who joined that year. But most of the original team was too pregnant to perform. That’s when...”

September 4th, 2018

“I have no idea how to cheer,” I said as Ashlie, the blonde cheer captain, dragged me through the halls of the University of Washington’s athletic center. I was just starting my sophomore year of college. I’d been a futa for nearly a year, and had a hundred plus futa-daughters to prove it.

“I don’t care,” Ashlie said, walking in her pleated purple and gold skirt, her matching sports bra top clinging to her round breasts. She had a toned, athletic body. I remembered fucking her at the end of last year, wearing this same outfit, from behind. I pumped my futa-cock hard into her snatch. I could see the start of her baby bump swelling her otherwise trim stomach. “I don’t care how terrible you are. You’re the reason we have almost no girls on the squad right now.”

“Really?” I asked.

“You knocked up the whole team!” she said, not angry, but actually excited. No girl was angry about being bred by me. They all welcomed it. It turned out that was why girls were so desperate to have sex with me.

It was like I was triggering something ancient and primal in all of them, sending their sex drive into high gear. They went into heat, ovulating almost instantly, and becoming pregnant from having sex with me just once. I bred so many girls last year: my ex-boyfriend’s step-sister and mother, the nurses at my doctor’s office, every girl in my dorm, all my female professors, the Sigma Lambda Tau sorority, random women I met on the street, reporters who interviewed me for magazines and websites, and girls who made pilgrims just to meet the worlds first futa.

But now I wasn’t the only futa in the world. All my daughters were my gender. The new, third gender. It was insane.

After a year, Dr. Senior, my family practitioner, still didn’t know why I became a futa. The medical community determined that I shed some sort of pheromone that sent women into heat and made guys strangely cool with me fucking, and breeding, their wives and girlfriends.

Everyone was happy, so I just enjoyed myself.

“I’m not that limber though,” I muttered as Ashlie led me to the locker room.

“That’s what stretches are for,” Ashlie said. She whirled around, fixing me with an intense stare. “You’re the world’s first futa. You’re going to be such an inspiration to the Dawgs with you cheering with us. The crowds will be pumped. You are doing this. For your college. And for all those girls you bred.”

“They wanted me to breed them.”

Ashlie beamed at me, her hands clutching her stomach. “We did. But you have to step up and take some responsibility, Becky. Now march that cute keister in there and put on our uniform. Then we’re going out to the field to have our first practice.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll do it.”

She smacked my ass through my jeans, which made my futa-dick throb and ache. “That’s the spirit!”

I entered the locker room and peeled off my top. I didn’t bother wearing a bra today, my round breasts bouncing free. My nipples puckered hard. I pinched them as I walked to the waiting uniform, loving the way my dick throbbed. My nubs felt connected with both my sexes.

A hot itch formed in the depths of my pussy. I wanted to shove fingers into there, or a nice dildo, and scratch it. Instead, I unsnapped my jeans, my cock tenting the cute, light-blue boy shorts I wore. I couldn’t wear tight panties because of my cock, and thongs were utterly out of the question; my dick just shoved out the side. Maybe one day they’d make sexy panties that could fit a huge futa-shaft.

Maybe they would one day with all the futa-daughters I had so far.

I wiggled out of the boy shorts, my cock thrusting hard from the wet folds of my pussy. It used to my clit until Kurt spurted into me, and then it grew into this big monster. Larger than any guy’s cock, thick, and able to cum over and over again. It was amazing. I loved it. I was so glad this happened to me.

I hummed as I pulled on the sports bra top. It cupped my round breasts, purple with gold tassels around the edge and a snarling husky on the front, our school’s mascot. Technically, it was the Husky, but people also called us the Dawgs, bad spelling and all. I grabbed the skirt and...

There were no spankies, the bloomer like panties cheerleaders wore beneath their skirts. They were thicker than real panties, which they’d wear underneath. I just frowned then shrugged, drawing up the pleated skirt and...

“Of course,” I said, shaking my head. “Cheerleaders are such pervs. I love it.”

My cock thrust through the pleats. If I was hard, there’d be no hiding what I was. Just seeing the pleats draping around my shaft increased my hardness. The tip felt so swollen, so in need of being touched. I rubbed the tip, smearing my precum around on it and—

“Come on!” Ashlie shouted. “You can flog your priestess later. It’s practice time.”

“Flog my priestess?” I blinked.

“Well, you’re not a guy. You can’t flog your priest or bishop.”

“Why not a nun?” I asked. “I could flog my nun ... No, that sounds terrible.”

She nodded her head. “Yep. Leave the masturbation nicknames to me. You can play with your panty-snake later.”

I smiled at her.

“You can droodle your noodle once practice is done.”

I blinked at that one. “Did you just make that one up? Droodle? What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what you think it does,” she said and winked. “Now come on. You can harvest your zucchini later.”

I followed her out of the locker room, my futa-cock bouncing before me, precum flicking from the tip. Ashlie eyed it, but since I’d fucked her, and bred her, she didn’t have that overwhelming need to fuck me. Don’t get me wrong, I could see it in her eyes that she’d love to enjoy my dick, but she could control herself.

I didn’t learn anything my fall semester last year because of it. But by the time the winter semester came along, I could focus. Well, at least after I fucked all my new female classmates and professors. But that didn’t take as much time as the fall semester.

We stepped out of the athletic center onto one of the practice fields around it. The other cheerleaders were already warming up, wearing their outfits, some shaking their pompoms, others doing high kicks. There weren’t that many of them. Only five waited for us. They all spun around at the sight of us. I recognized Starr, Deniece, and Celia. I’d bred all three of them near the end of the year, so their pregnancies weren’t showing yet.

“Hey, Becky,” Starr purred, a slender cheerleader with boyish hips and a her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. I think I pulled on it when I fucked her.

“Hey Starr,” I said. Then I nodded to the Black girl with her short, frizzy hair, a woolly mass like a mini-afro. “Hey Deniece. How’s the pregnancy?”

“I’m past the morning sickness, thank god,” she said.

“I have mine in the afternoon,” Celia said, an auburn-hair girl with the largest breasts of all the cheerleaders. “How’s it going, Becky?”

“Hard,” I said. “Ashlie wouldn’t let me droodle my noodle.”

“Yeah, looks like you could use a ... droodling?” Celia’s forehead furrowed as she said that last word, her voice rising inflection.

“The last two are Immaculada and Mei Wen,” Ashlie said motioning to the Hispanic girl and the Asian girl doing stretches nearby. I didn’t recognize them. Had I fucked them? Sometimes, I had so many girls in a day, invited to parties that turned into orgies, that I couldn’t remember. Some of the frats loved to have me showed up because the girls would go wild and they’d get to enjoy as much pussy as me.

I didn’t mind sharing a girl with a guy. Especially Kurt. There was something special about sharing a girl with my ex-boyfriend.

“Okay, Becky, let’s get you limbered and stretched. Just follow my lead.” Ashlie turned around and bent over, her cute tush pointed right at me as she didn’t just touch her toes. She laid her palms flat against the short-cut grass, almost bent in half like a pretzel.

My jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”

“Come on, you can do it, girlfriend,” Deniece said and she did the same.

“Don’t feel like you have to do the open palms thing,” Celia said, just touching her toes. “Only freaks like Ashlie and Deniece can do that.”

Starr nodded, her brown ponytail dangling past her head as she touched her toes. Immaculada and Mei Wen did the same, the Hispanic girl’s hair dyed bleached-blonde and falling about her face in a curtain of peroxide locks. Mei Wen had short hair dyed dark-blue, her face round and her skin a dusky-olive. She had a tight, petite look that many East Asian girls had.

They both made my dick hard.

I bent over to touch my toes. My futa-cock swayed before me as I leaned over more and more. My blonde hair fell down past my head. I strained, fingers extended for my toes. I fought to keep my legs straight as my stomach began to burn. My cock wiggled and wagged, drawing my eyes.

It thrust at my face now, thick and hard. A bead of precum grew at the tip. I could just get my eyes to focus on it. But it was so close to me. The slightest movement made it bob wildly from side to side, almost dancing out of the way.

I groaned, falling short a few inches of reaching my toes. “This is the best I can do.”

“You can do better,” Ashlie said, straightening up. “Celia, help me out.”

“Sure,” Celia said. The busty redhead pressed up behind me and pushed on my lower back, forcing me to bend over more. Ashlie knelt before me, pressing on my shoulders.

“Oh, my god!” I gasped, my stomach straining, my ligaments protesting. “This is too much.”

“You just need another inch,” Ashlie said. “You’re almost there. Come on.”

They pushed hard. My fingers brushed my shoes for an instant, and my lips ... my lips touched the swollen tip of my cock.

“Ooh, she can suck her own dick,” Deniece moaned. “That’s hot.”

“Ooh, yes,” Starr panted. “Do that again.”

“No, wait!” I gasped then squeaked as they pushed down. Pain flared across my midriff. My open mouth slid right over the crown of my cock.

For one amazing heartbeat, I gave myself a blowjob. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked. My dick throbbed. My pussy clenched. A wave of heat rippled out of my nethers and struck right into the burning agony in my stomach and lower back.

Like a spring stretched too far, I recoiled back.

“Fuck!” I gasped. “That hurts!”

“Ooh, she did it,” groaned Starr. “Just for one brief instant, she did it. Damn, I that was so hot.”

“Yeah,” Deniece groaned.

“There, Becky, that’s something for us to work on,” Ashlie said. “Now lets spread those legs apart and do more stretches.”

“No more helping!” I protested, my stomach muscles still aching.

“No more helping,” Ashlie said, rolling her eyes. “But don’t be a baby, that’s how we all learned to stretch in school.”

“Your coaches should be shot for doing that to little girls,” I panted.

My dick ached and throbbed the entire time I did my stretches. Deniece, Ashlie, Starr, and Celia surrounded me, guiding me through it while the other two girls did their stretches nearby. They might be new, but they didn’t need all the help I did.

Girls started filtering into the stands, and some guys, but mostly girls. I hadn’t noticed until a familiar voice called out, “Hey, Becky.”

I looked up to see Chris and his girlfriend, Tiffany. She held our daughter, Christina, in her arms, smiling at me. She’d given birth over the summer with the first wave of women who had my futa-daughters.

“Looks like word has gotten out,” Starr said, gazing at the crowd.

“Uh-huh,” Ashlie nodded, a pleased smile on her face. “Look at all the school spirit you’re going to help us inspire, Becky.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice thick and throaty. I straightened up, so aware of my hardening cock. Suddenly, I wanted to suck my girl-dick before them. To bend over and engulf the crown of my cock. I wanted to be limber enough to do that.

A wave of heat washed through me. I swallowed at the idea, loving the attention. I definitely had an exhibitionist streak. I stretched my back, waving to Chris and Tiffany, the couple looking so cute together. Chris was a nerd who fapped it to futa-porn before I even became one. The Japanese had pioneered the art form with their graphic novels. They called it Hentai.

I liked jerking off to it myself.

We finished off the stretching, which was a good word for it because my body felt so sore from reaching far, far past what I should. But my blood was pumping. My heart thudded away as I moved up with the other girls.

Ashlie led us in a series of exercise. She called out words and the other cheerleaders understood what she meant. I just stood there feeling like an idiot with a big cock. The crowd grew larger and larger, clapping and applauding me while I flailed around like an idiot. I tried to mimic the other girls, but my body felt so gangly and unwieldy. I couldn’t move like them.

They did these scissoring high kicks, their legs going into vertical stretches that almost made me squeal in pain when I tried, my poor inner thigh tendon felt on the verge of tearing. I panted, my body growing more and more flushed. I thought I was in good shape. I writhed in orgies for hours at a time.

I thought that was good cardio training.

I was so wrong. Getting flushed and tired was part of sex. Sometimes, you took breaks and let your partner do all the pumping. But out here on the practice field, there were no breaks. I just felt my tits getting more and more sweaty, my sports bra clinging to my heaving mounds. My cock bounced before me, only hard because of the cheering crowd.