Chapter 1: Ms. Kim's Futa Solution

“We lost another account. Ms. Kim’s forgot to send them the follow-up information, so they went with another company to fill their shelves.”

Britney’s complaining voice drifted over the cubicles, reaching my ears as I walked from my office to the bathroom. I froze, a sudden blush tinging my cheeks as I listened to myself being bad-mouthed. What was this about a lost account? And something I forgotten to do?

“This company is swirling down the drain so fast,” groaned Miley. “We’re all going to be unemployed in two months if she can’t get her act together.”

“She can’t handle her emails. I don’t know what made her think she could run a company.”

Britney’s words stung. She was my very first employee. Three years ago, she had been so eager to be apart of my vision for Mizzytique, my makeup company. I had a great product. I worked for years developing the formulas, handcrafting them, starting out with the perfect line for Asian women, like myself, then branching out towards makeup coloring good for other skin tones.

It had been going so great. I had hired only women, wanting a positive environment for my company to flourish. We were getting orders, we were expanding. I had to rent out a warehouse near the air force base, converting it into office space. The high ceilings gave it character. You could hear everyone’s voices echoing back and forth as they worked.

And then a year ago, it all started going wrong. Problems began developing. There were ... interpersonal problems. Britney and June began fighting because she was dating Britney’s ex. And suddenly it was so catty in the building. Everyone was sniping at each other, taking sides. Then other problems began boiling over. Other simmering fights.

And I couldn’t stop it. I would try. I would tell them to drop it, but I never felt ... assertive enough. I always felt so scared before them. I was the shortest woman in the office, my Korean heritage giving me a petite body. My voice always felt so small.

It was all slipping away. My house was on the verge of foreclosure. I hadn’t had the nerve to tell my fourteen-year-old daughter we were about to be homeless. If things didn’t turn around by the end of December, my company would be gone.

I would be a failure.

And to learn we had just lost an account. An account I hadn’t even heard about yet was somehow my fault. That was Britney’s department. She headed sales. I had trusted her to do it. And now she was blaming me. Anger surged through me.

“She is running us all into the poor house,” Britney continued. “God, I need a new job. Won’t be long until our paychecks bounce.”

“Fuck that, I’ll sue her for every penny if that happens,” Miley said.

Tears burned in my eyes. My emotions were swirling, raging. I wanted to march in there, demand answers while fear and shame held me back. I was a failure. It was my company, and if it couldn’t succeed, then what did it matter.

I so desperately wanted confidence. And even more, a way to motivate my workforce. No one cares any longer about doing their work. I found them on their phones half the time, or coming back from too long lunches. Why was I so weak? Why couldn’t I take control?

If I was a man, I could. My ex-husband would have taken control of things. He would have grabbed Britney by the metaphorical scruff of her neck and shaken her until she fessed up about this lost client.

But I wasn’t my ex. Maybe he was right about me. You can’t cut it in business. You’re a woman. You should be happy raising our daughter.

I hurried back to my office, tears burning my eyes. I didn’t have to pee any longer. I passed my secretary’s desk, a cute, Korean girl who reminded me so much of my daughter. She had the same round face and silky-black hair as my daughter, with small breasts hidden by her silk blouse.

Her blouse molded to those tits today.

There were a lot of reasons my marriage failed. Not just my desire to have a business, but the realization I liked women. A lot. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that the blossoming girl was my daughter. And when I met Natti Chung, seeing so much of my daughter in her face, I had to hire her.

Even if I was too scared to ever ask Natti out like I always planned. Being scared was the problem. Scared of my employees, scared of taking charge. This was all my fault. Why couldn’t I just have some confidence? I shouldn’t need a cock to be strong like my husband always claimed.

I shouldn’t. There were plenty of strong women.

But ... maybe it wouldn’t have hurt.

“What’s wrong, Ji-Woo?” Natti asked. She was the only one I allowed to use my first name. Everyone else called me Ms. Kim.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just ... need to work on something. No disturbance.”

“Okay.” She gave me such a heartfelt look, biting her lower lip.

I wanted to pull her into my office and kiss her and love her and just forget about everything for a little while in her arms. It had been so long since Lucy. Five or more years. Our relationship had dissolved as I dived into my makeup idea.

And now I was so lonely. Everything had gone wrong.

I closed the door behind me. My shoulders trembled as I leaned against it. I stared down at my gray blouse, my pearl necklace tight about my throat. I shifted my hips, my black skirt rustling. I stared at my calves, my shoes.

My vision grew blurry.

Hot tears fell down my delicate cheeks. My shoulders shook worse, the sobs coming. Why couldn’t my employees at least work together. Why did they have to be so catty? An office of all women was supposed to be so efficient. No men around to get distracted and flirt with them, a place for feminine energy to flourish.

So why did I feel so strangled by it?

I stumbled to my desk, falling down into my cheap chair. I never had the money to buy a nice one. It creaked. I leaned my elbows on my desk before my keyboard, burying my face into my hands. I couldn’t stop crying.

My cell phone buzzed on my desk, chirping. I had an email.

What fresh disaster now?

I sniffed, blinking to see as I picked up my phone. It had a swirly, zebra-like case. My daughter had bought it for me. I punched in my passcode and opened the email. I blinked as white snowflakes fell down the screen as the message loaded, the font icy blue.

I frowned, blinked my eyes. How had the snowflakes fallen? I shivered, almost feeling a chill in the air, as I read it:

Oh, you poor thing. You’re just getting walked all over, Ms Kim. Those cunts in your office need to learn their place. And I know just how to do it. You’re right, a cock is just what you need. But not because of that asshole ex-husband. It’ll give you confidence having a cock. So you’re in luck, because that’s my specialty.

So you can stop those tears, because when I’m done with you, you’ll have your entire office ready to follow you. Oh, they’ll be so wet and hot to do whatever you want. So cheer up, Ms. Kim, because we’re going to save your business.

And we’re going to have so much naughty fun doing it. Oh, you are going to love my gift. Just love it! God, you are one lucky slut! Makes me so hard and wet just thinking about it.

So expect me soon.

B

Esq. of Winter

My jaw dropped at just how vulgar the email was. I flinched at the C word and quickly closed it. I felt so dirty just seeing it. I couldn’t help but looking out my door. B. Britney. That horrible woman. Now she was sending me mocking emails.

“First you don’t send me the final papers on this client so I could close the deal, and now you send me this vulgarity?” The words spilled from my lips. I stood up, my chair rolling back. I was so infuriated, I was on the verge of marching out there and giving her a piece of my mind.

But then the fear grabbed me. I would just stammer. I would just shrink. Britney was so tall and beautiful. She was a voluptuous, brassy-haired beauty. She was confident, always wearing those racy thigh-high stockings and her bold, short skirts. Her breasts were the size of my own head. I had tiny breasts. I was so short.

And I would be eye-level with her tits.

I sank back into my chair. My phone chirped again. Another email. It was worse than the first one. Rent was due for the office. And I had no idea how I’d pay for it. I would barely make payroll this month for my employees.

I buried my face into my arms, slumped over my desk, and wept and wept. It was all over. I had failed. My husband was right about me. I just lay there, sobbing, the tears pouring out of me. Then a great lethargy sank over me.

It was over. I gave up.

What did it matter?

I shifted, my rear suddenly feeling something cold and slick beneath it instead of the sorta soft cushion. A chill bled into my arms, my desk feeling suddenly so smooth. I blinked, lifting my gaze and...

My entire office was made of ice.

I gasped, standing up, my frozen computer chair rolling backward across the white-blue ground. My small breasts jiggled. I was naked, too. My cheeks warmed as I looked around. Everything in my office was made of frozen water, even the picture of me and my daughter. I could actually see us in it, etched in fine, icy lines.

My gaze snapped around the room even as my right arm covered my small breasts and my left hand covered my thick, black bush between my thighs. My window was translucent ice, looking out onto a frozen warehouse next door. My bookshelves. My posters. My college diploma. My computer screen was a sheet of ice that had text on it, the window boxes, my icons. I could read it.

I almost reached out and touched the mouse, seeing if I could move an icy cursor across the frozen screen, when I noticed I wasn’t alone.

Sitting in the chair across my desk was a naked woman. She was pale-skinned and busty, her purple hair framing a mature face. A hungry face. It was the type of expression older women, nicknamed cougars, would have at a bar hunting young men.

Only her eyes were far, far older than a woman in her late forties. They were ancient. Paleolithic. I suddenly felt so small before her, my jaw dropping as I couldn’t break away from their silvery eternity. This woman had existed for far longer than humans.

“What a charming office,” she said, sitting up, her large tits bouncing, breaking my gaze from her ancient eyes.

Above her shoulders, translucent wings, like a dragonfly’s, twitched. I licked my lips, my heart beating so fast as my eyes traveled down her body, past those large, soft breasts to her smooth stomach sweeping down to a violet bush adorning her thighs.

And the huge cock thrusting from her crotch. From the folds of her pussy.

I flinched back, struggling to keep myself covered. “W-what are you?”

“The summer-slut likes to use the term futanari,” she purred. “It’s not bad. So you can call me a futa-fairy. The name’s B. You got my text, right?”

“B-Bee,” I said, stuttering on her name.

“Well, it’s short for Bean Sidhe.” She rolled her eyes. “But isn’t that just such a mouthful? B’s better. It’s ... more suited for the modern times. The summer slut is sooooo old fashion.” Something close to anger flared in her voice. “Think’s her shit doesn’t stink, too, you know?”

I only nodded, not really following.

“But that’s not why I’m here,” she said, walking around my desk. I couldn’t help but stare at her big dick bouncing before her as she sauntered.

I hadn’t seen a dick since my divorce. And this was far, far larger than my ex’s. It was mammoth. I couldn’t believe the hot ache that filled my pussy, a desire to be filled by it, a desire that no dildo or other sex toy could replace.

My mouth watered. I ... wanted that cock. A girl’s cock. A futa’s cock. What was going on?

“Am I d-dreaming?” I was surrounded by ice but wasn’t cold, and she had a dick. A cock! “I must be d-dreaming.”

“You are,” B said, stopping before me, her dick an inch from my hip, her big, jiggling tits drawing my gaze back up. Her nipples were fat and dusky, begging to be sucked on. “But that doesn’t mean this isn’t happening. Because it is. You are about to get just what you need to motivate your workers.”

“What?” I asked, feeling my nipples harden beneath my arm and hand covering them. My pussy grew wet, my hand pressing tighter to keep me covered.

And brushing my clit peeking out of its hood, sending a shudder through me.

“This,” she said, making a dramatic gesture, like someone on a game show before revealing a prize hidden behind Door #2 might. Only she made it at the girl-dick thrusting impossibly from her crotch.

“Your ... cock?”

“Your cock,” she said. “Your big, throbbing futa-dick. Make a pact with me, and I’ll give you your own big shaft.”

“A-and how will that m-motivate my employees?” My stomach twitch.

“There is nothing more empowering than having a cock,” I said. “Women respond to futa-cocks. They want them. Look at you, squirming, your cute cheeks getting flushed. Mmm, I love Asian chicks. So petite and yummy. And your pussy ... I can smell that spicy musk. Your cunt is on fire.”

I shuddered at the word cunt, my pussy clenching.

“You want my cock, don’t you?” B asked, stepping closer. The tip touched me, so hot, smearing precum across my hip.

I swallowed. And, too my shock, admitted, “Yes.”

“And I bet you would do anything to feel this cock in you,” she continued, taking my hand covering my pussy and pulling it to her shaft. I didn’t fight her. I shuddered when she wrapped my fingers about her girth. She throbbed. “Like making a deal with me.”

I swallowed, her hand replacing mine over my pussy. Her fingers sliding through my thick bush, finding my clit. She massaged it. “Yes!”

“You’ll make a pact with me?”

I nodded my head.

“No concern over the conditions?” she pressed. “You just want to feel my cock in you that badly?”

My pussy clenched, her finger dancing on my clit. I did. What was wrong with me. How was she affecting me so badly? “Yes!”

“Then imagine how your employees will act when you unveil this mighty girl-cock. How they’ll all want to please you. Finally, they’ll get off their lazy asses and work. They won’t have time to argue. They will all be earning the right to fuck that cock. They’ll let you punish them if they’re bad, and reward them if they’re good.”

My hand tightened on her girl-dick. “Reward?”

“Fuck them.” She said the two words so slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “With your big, thick girl-dick.”

I groaned, my clit throbbing beneath her fingers as she pushed me back against the window. She was pressing between my thighs, her girl-dick rubbing on my hot pussy. My arm fell away, exposing my breasts.

“So make a pact with me and I’ll fuck you.”

“Yes!” I moaned, not caring. My pussy was on fire. I couldn’t think. My left hand, holding her futa-cock, guided her to my pussy, sliding it through my curly pubic hair until she found my entrance. “I’ll make a pact!”

B thrust.

I gasped as she speared her cock into me. That big, thick, throbbing shaft of girl-flesh buried into my pussy. I groaned, pressed against the frozen window. I felt winter on my back while that huge dick burned in my pussy.

Not because it was hot, but because it was so cold.

My eyes were so wide, her breasts pressing against them. These big, pillowy, huge mounds. So pale. Her nipples so fat. I gripped them, squeezing them as pleasure rippled out of my pussy, her cock stabbing so hard, so deep, into me.

“Oh, yes, you’re going to dominate them with your futa-cock, Ms. Kim,” groaned the futa-fairy, her wings humming away. “You’re going to show them that you’re the boss. That you are in charge. And when they see that cock, they’ll obey.”

I only moaned, engulfing her nipple. I sucked so hard on it, my tongue swirling about the nub. I nibbled on it. And that made her thrust even harder, driving her girl-dick into my pussy. It was so huge, stretching out my snatch.

“You’ll be strong,” groaned B.

Her dick plunged into me, the frigid friction burning rapture through me. My pussy clenched down on her dick, my thighs wrapped about her ice-smooth hips. I bucked into her, drunk on the rapture shooting through me.

It was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I had never had so much pleasure from being fucked by a strap-on. And it blew away every time I had sex with my husband, his small dick pumping away for a few minutes before he had his orgasm, leaving me so unfulfilled.

B would have me screaming.

“Yes, yes, yes, you’re going to be the dominating futa-boss. Your employees will respect the hell out of you as they worship that dick.” B let out a throaty moan. “You are going to get so much pussy.”

I sucked harder, trembling, my clit throbbing. It would be so wonderful to fuck them all, to motivate them with my big girl-cock. To have confidence. I humped harder, bucking into B’s thrusts, clutching to the futa-fairy as I loved her nipple.

My hands roamed her back, brushing the buzzing ferocity of her wings. They hummed away. I groaned, clinging to her. My pussy clenched on her thrusting girl-dick, the pressure building and building in the depths of my pussy.

An explosion that would detonate through me.

“Oh, yes, you’re going to have so much fun dominating them. Especially that bitch Britney.”

I shuddered.

“You’re going to punish her, aren’t you?” hissed B. “For blaming you. For walking over you. Remind her that you’re the boss.”

My lips popped off her nipple. I stared up into her ancient eyes, the pleasure sweeping through me. “Yes!” I moaned. “I will. I’ll be so strong as a futanari! I’ll make them all obey me. And I’ll punish her. It’s all her fault we lost the client!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” hissed B, her cock thrusting into the depths of my molten pussy.

The friction stimulated me. My pussy drank it in. My nerves conducted the pleasure to the core of my femininity. To that growing pressure of my orgasm. It was the final drop that overflowed the cauldron.

I came.

My pussy spasmed about the futa-fairy’s huge cock. My body bucked and quivered. My moans burst through my frozen office. Rapture spilled out of my nethers. It washed through my soul and poured across my mind.

I drowned in boiling ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, yes! They’ll all respect me and my huge futa-cock!”

... respect, Ji-Woo... a distant voice asked. ... are you okay?...

“Oh, yes, you will,” groaned the futa-fairy. “And you’re cunt is going wild on my girl-dick. Oh, you are just aching for my jizz. For my gift. For our pact to be sealed.”

“Yes, yes, yes, cum in my cunt!” I shuddered, saying that word for the first time. That horrid, filthy, disgusting, demeaning word. But it felt so amazing right now. So right as I was locked in the throes of orgasmic bliss.

The words felt right. So wonderfully naughty. The kind of words a futa should say. And I would be a futa.

“Cum in me, B!”

The futa-fairy groaned. Her wings hummed. Her cock rammed into me. Cum flooded my cunt. Hot and thick, filling me as her dick pulsed in my depths. I shuddered, the shock of it rippling through me, the feel of a woman’s jizz flooding me triggered rapture.

My pussy convulsed. My flesh milked her cock, drawing out not just the girl-seed pumping into my core, but energy. Her gift. I gasped, lifting my face from her breasts to peer up into her ancient eyes, to see the ecstasy burning in them, mirroring the rapture exploding through me as I changed.

The energy surged to my clit as I bucked and heaved, writhing against the icy window. I shuddered, my pussy clenching, the pleasure surging through me. I gasped, my eyes throwing wide as such pleasure crashed through me.