Chapter 1: Futa's First Wild Ride

April 17th, 2047

“Welcome back to our celebration of President Becky Woodward’s forty-eight birthday,” Adelia said as she sat beside me on the small couch. We were over an hour into our interview, streamed live across the internet to the world, and so much naughty fun had happened.

I still buzzed from fucking my young wife, Sharron, up the ass with my futa-cock before we took the last commercial break. My pregnant wife sat in a chair off-stage now, her face flushed, still half-dazed from her orgasmic high even after the two-minute-long pause for the advertisers.

Adelia, the caramel-skinned talk show host, glanced at me. “It is such an honor to have the world’s first futa in my studio today. I’m so glad you accepted my invitation to have this retrospective on your life.”

“It has been a wonderful time so far,” I said. A laugh rippled out of the watching studio audience, a peal of feminine delight. “Especially telling you about my first live interview back when I was nineteen.”

“Yes, yes, what a tale that was,” Adelia said. “And it is what led to our next topic in your life: Ms. Bred Beauty Pageant. It’s like the Miss Universe contest, but only eligible to women bred by you and who were in their third trimester of their pregnancy.”

“When they could show off those round bellies,” I said, nodding my head.

“So the twenty-ninth Ms. Bred was held just last month,” Adelia said.

I laughed, “The first one I was able to judge in eight years. It was one of the things I missed while serving my two terms as president. So I was glad to be able to return.”

“Yes, especially since you’ll soon be taking office as the world’s first president. So no more judging duties again?”

I sighed. “No more judging duties ... But the people, mainly the women, of the world spoke. We’re going to do something great, but we haven’t gotten to that part of my life yet. Right now, everyone wants to hear about the first pageant.”

“Ms. Bred 2019,” nodded Adelia. “It was such a hot idea.

“I wish I could take credit for the idea, but a far kinkier man then me came up with it.”

“You’re talking about Carter Mondale, who was then the President of CNN?” Adelia asked.

I nodded my head, my blonde hair rustling about my shoulders. The hair stylist had touched me up between breaks, my do getting a little tousled after having sex a few times already. My futa-dick throbbed beneath my skirt as I said, “He met me after my interview with Amelia McCreery. He was ecstatic about the success of that broadcast. It shouldn’t be a shock to anyone that he would propose this naughty idea of beauty pageant.

“After all, he put live futa-sex onto CNN to boost its ratings against its competitor, Fox News, who numbered among my greatest critics.”

“Of course, Fox News was having you breeding their female hosts withing a week,” Adelia said.

“Principals don’t matter when there are ratings to be earned and advertiser dollars to be made,” I said.

“Or when a sexy futa with a big, throbbing girl-dick wants to breed your pussy,” Adelia added, her voice growing throaty. She pressed her thighs together, streaked with my drying cum from our earlier romp.

“So true,” I said, smiling at the TV. “So Mr. Mondale proposed the idea, and I fell in love with it. It turned out to be a lot of work to put together. We had to figure out how to get contestants, what the rules were, the sponsors. Even with Mr. Mondale putting all his business and media expertise to it, I felt ragged by the time March rolled around. I was also cheering for my college, fundraising with the boosters and alumni, giving interviews left and right, and breeding every woman I could in between. My nineteen-year-old self was pushed to her limits.

“But it was worth it,” I said, smiling.

“So how did you come up with the contestants? Now a days, with your daughters breeding women, too, it’s not just limited to girls you’ve impregnated so the pool is a lot larger to draw from. But back then...”

“We held twenty qualifying events, glorified talent shows, mostly across the Pacific Northwest since that was where I lived at the time. People who attended would vote on which pregnant girl they thought was the most talented and hottest. The winner would then make the final event, assuming her ultrasound showed that she was carrying a futa. I was so excited when the day finally came. It was a Saturday and I was wearing the most beautiful dress ever...

March 23rd, 2019

I trembled as I sat down at the judge’s table to the right of the stage, my dick so hard, tenting the front of the little, black dress I wore. I felt so glamorous in it with my diamond necklace about my neck, my round breasts on displayed. I had my blonde hair stylized into a delicious mass that fell down to my left shoulder and spilled over it and down to my cleavage.

On my right, Mr. Mondale sat, a tall man, slightly overweight but his tux hid most of it, making him look almost suave until you saw that pervy grin on his thick lips. He had his hands clasped before him, eager for the contestants to come out. On my right was Amelia McCreery, the CNN host I bred on live TV. She had her hands cupping her swollen belly, a glow almost radiating out from the black-hair woman. Her breasts looked so ripe and inviting in her low-cut, red dress.

I could feel the excitement rippling through the auditorium. The Dolby Theater in Los Angeles was packed with attendees. The air brimmed with excitement. I rubbed my hands together, fighting the urge to grab my futa-dick as the stage lights came on. The music played.

Karissa Walmsley, Miss Universe 2018, strode out in a silver dress that clung to her lush body, her belly round with the five months of her pregnancy, her hips swaying from side-to-side. She moved with the same grace she displayed when she won her crown, nestled amid her black curls. Her coffee-brown skin from her mixed-race heritage almost glowed beneath the stage lights. She felt ephemeral, like a dream.

“Welcome to the first annual Ms. Bred Beauty Pageant,” she said, her voice gushing. “I am so honored to be invited by the world’s first futa, Becky Woodward, to MC this little event.” She paused, hand on her hip, giving the crowd a dazzling smile. “I know, look at me. I’m not nearly pregnant enough to be on stage with the beauties you’re going to see tonight.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

My pussy itched as I trembled in anticipation.

“We have twenty beautiful, bred ladies all eager to show off their womanly charms to you tonight,” Karissa continued. “So try to pace yourself. We have a night long event that will be full of so much passion, you might not make it otherwise.”

The lights changed, the stage going almost all dark except a single spotlight striking a red curtain on the right side of the stage. I could feel the anticipation swelling in the audience. In myself. My hand drifted beneath the table, finding my hard cock.

“So let’s welcome tonight’s lucky girls,” Karissa said, just a shape in the dark now, save for the occasional flash off her silver sequins as she shifted. “First up, all the way from Des Moines, Iowa is Jacki Colbert. She is a student at Seattle Pacific University who was bred by Becky when she snuck onto the UW campus with a group of friends and crashed one of the futa’s infamous Sunday orgies.”

“That naughty minx,” I purred as Jacki Colbert strutted out in a blue dress that hugged her pregnant form. She was blonde with heavy tits that jiggled, each cupped in soft, azure cloth. Her round belly swayed before her as she walked with such a confident strut. She had such long legs, the slit in the side of her dress letting her right flash out with every step on her stiletto heels.

My futa-cock throbbed hard.

A spotlight shone at the opposite end of stage while the first followed Jacki to her position. “Next we have Rexanne Weaver from Puyallup, Washington. She worked at a local coffee shop and had the delight of serving Becky more than the local java.”

My futa-dick throbbed as Rexanne strutted out, a petite girl with black hair, her belly looking so swollen with her pregnancy. Her small stature only made her hotter as she cupped her belly. She gave the audience smoky looks, her hips swaying. I vaguely remembered meeting her right before the fall semester started up.

More and more names were called. More and more beauties strutted out in their gowns. They were all so pregnant. So swollen and ripe. My hand clenched about my futa-dick, stroking up and down my shaft as I licked my lips in anticipation of tonight’s pageant. Some I knew very well, like Mei Wen who cheered on my college team, or Jamie who was secretary to my university’s president. Other girls I would never forget, like Sabrina, the cheerleader I fucked and bred while her quarterback boyfriend watched on, or Jordan, the naughty producer who sat on my dick during my first live interview with Amelia McCreery. But there were other contestants I didn’t remember breeding at all, lost in the blur of women I’d fucked.

And then there was Kristina Fishman.

I fought the urge to glare at the Black girl as she sauntered out. She used my ex-boyfriend Kurt to get close to me so she could be fucked and bred by me. She dumped him after I bred her before cheering at my first UW football game. And since I liked Kurt, I wasn’t happy with her at all.

In fact, I was rooting for her to lose. But I had to be impartial. I couldn’t vote against her just because of my personal feelings. Besides, I had an equal vote to Amelia and Mr. Mondale. I hoped they would see her as a cow and therefore not worthy of winning this contest.

Finally, all twenty pregnant ladies were standing beneath their own spotlights. They all looked so delicious, even Kristina, in their tight dresses. I had bred them all. They were all brimming with the life I planted in them. It made my futa-dick ache so badly. My pussy dripped so much juices.

I stroked myself faster.

“Now, let’s get to know this bevy of bred beauties,” Karissa said. “And, yes, I had to practice saying that without swallowing my tongue.”

The audience rippled with laughter. I smiled as I studied the women, eager to get to know some of them better. A few I still couldn’t remember fucking at all, like Jacki or Anemone, a redhead who came out seventh.

Amelia went first with her question. “Kristina, outside of fucking Becky, what is the naughtiest sexual act you’ve ever performed?”

Kristina clapped her hands before her mouth. The tall, Black girl shook her hips, her crimson dress swaying as it fell off her swollen belly. “Oh, my, well, it was at my sister’s wedding last month.” She shivered. “Well, they say being pregnant makes you horny and ... I let two guys I met spit-roast me in the coat room during the wedding reception.”

“Oh, so you were taking it from both ends?” quipped Karissa.

“Both ends,” Kristina said, her voice so tight.

“Jacki,” Mr. Mondale asked, “what is the wildest sexual partner, outside of Becky, you’ve ever had?”

Jacki’s cheeks went crimson, contrasting with her blonde hair. But she kept her poise. She lifted her chin and said, “My boyfriend’s father. He’s a total silver fox. He, huh, banged me during Thanksgiving in the bathroom while everyone was having pumpkin pie. I had just met him but ... He had this spark his son lacked.”

“So more than the turkey got stuffed, huh?” Karissa asked, bringing another gale of laughter from the audience.

I was grinning still from her joke as I asked my first question. “Anemone, before you met me, had you ever eaten pussy?”

The redhead, who had the most unusual name I had ever heard, fixed me such a naughty smile. Her round breasts rose as she drew in a deep breath, the thin straps of her bodice exposing most of her pale chest. “Yes. I got drunk with a girlfriend of mine once and we went down on each other. Though she had nothing on the skill of your tongue, Becky.”

“I’ve had lots of practice,” I said, my futa-dick throbbing in my hand. I pumped up and down it, my pussy clenching.

The questions continued, each of us judges taking a turn. Every girl was asked at least two questions, though some attracted more than others.

“Sabrina,” asked Amelia, “what’s the weirdest place, besides on a football field, you ever had sex?”

The head cheerleader of the Oregon Ducks gave a dazzling smile. Her caramel skin almost glowed. She cupped her belly clad in her soft-pink dress and said, “I gave my boyfriend a blowjob while we were on a Ferris wheel. He also fingered me as I sucked him.”

“Still dating that quarterback?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” she answered, giving me a smoky look and winking at me.

When my next question came up, I aimed it at Jordan, that naughty producer who helped Amelia trick me seven months ago. I had the perfect question for her. “Jordan, do you love anal?”

Jordan shivered, her blonde hair kissing her shoulders, the tips dyed pink. She rubbed her pregnant belly and said, “The only time I ever had anal was with you, and I screamed my head off.”

I blinked. “You never did it since?”

“I haven’t found a cock anywhere near as big as the one my asshole craves,” she purred.

Mr. Mondale laughed. He then asked a girl with her black-hair falling in a thick braid down her back, “Cass, what is your naughtiest sexual fantasy?”

The girl’s pillowy breasts swayed in her low-cut, black dress. They looked on the verge of spilling out of her top. She licked her lips, her cheeks going scarlet. “I want to be ravished by a dragon. I know they don’t exist, but I just think about this powerful beast on me, in me, fucking me...” She shuddered. “Oh, god, it’s deprave, I know, but...”

“But it’s so hot,” Amelia purred. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing,” I groaned licking my lips as I stared at Cass’s jiggling tits. My hand pumped up and down my cock faster, the ache building at the tip.

“Now Kim, what is your favorite sex toy?” Amelia asked the other Ducks’ cheerleader who made the event.

Kim was the petite, Vietnamese cheerleader I bred third at the game, fucking her hard on the sidelines. She looked so dainty even pregnant, her belly proportioned to her slender frame. She had such a delicious shade of dusky-olive skin, her short, black hair framing her doll-like face.

“I don’t know the name exactly, but it’s a type of vibrator that rotates,” she said. “It has a hook at the end, not sharp, but it presses inside your pussy and spins around. It just churns you until you explode.”

My cunt clenched. “Oh, god, I think I need to try that.”

I was so on edge after that. I wanted to just stroke myself off. But I backed off on my frantic pumping so we could get through the rest of the questions. The girls were all blushing but smiling, some hugging their swollen bellies. They all looked so delicious.

“Well, I think any woman who’s been pregnant knows your ankles get sore standing for a while,” Karissa said, “so we prepared some naughty seats for our contestants to use as we head into the endurance portion of the contest.

“I know, endurance. Who ever heard of that in a beauty contest? Well, this is sexual endurance. The first ten girls who orgasm are, I’m afraid, disqualified from the second half of the event. Each girl will have to do her best to fight off that naughty desire to explode. But it won’t be easy with these chairs!”

Stage lights illuminated the back of the auditorium. Two rows of chairs were set up, each silver and almost delicate looking. Thrusting up from the center of each seat was a thick, bumpy dildo waiting for a pregnant pussy to engulf it. I shuddered, smiling as the girls gasped and the audience groaned in excitement.

“So let’s bare those bodies, ladies, and take your seat,” Karissa said. “Even if you lose this contest, you’re going to cum hard doing it.”

The audience laughed which turned into groans as the dresses came off. Clothing fell away from breasts ripe with new life and bellies swollen from my futa-seed. I groaned as the sight of these fit women disrobing. Some had fat nipples, others had small nubs. Some breasts were perky and taut while others were pillowy and soft. They swayed and jiggled. Juices flowed down thighs. Some girls were shaved, others thick and bushy.

They all made me salivate.

“Good god, I knew this would be amazing,” Mr. Mondale groaned beside me, his own hand beneath the judge’s table.

“They are all so scrumptious,” Amelia said, trembling beside me. “I’m surprised you haven’t popped off yet, Becky.”

“I’m saving myself for the first girl to lose,” I said. I hoped it would be Kristina.

“I see more than a few glistening thighs,” Karissa purred as the contestants sauntered to the chairs on their heels, the only thing they wore. “I think more than a few have been looking forward to this event.”

“I am going to dominate it!” Sabrina gasped then did a surprisingly limber high kick, not as much as a cheerleader should, but impressive with her pregnant belly before her. “Ooh, yes!”

My hand stroked up and down my girl-dick as the first of them reached the table. A redhead named Caetlin was the first. Her fiery curls bounced about her shoulders and her breasts swayed as she wiggled her hips. She guided the thick, purple dildo to her pussy. Her moans echoed over the stage as she sank her hot cunt down it.

My futa-cock ached in my hand. I remembered fucking her hard from behind when she joined the Sigma Lambda Tau sorority last fall. I bred all their pledges. It was a new rule for their sorority. Over the summer, every member gave birth to my daughters from the orgy last year.

Other contestants settled down on the fake cocks. They whimpered and moaned and shuddered so deliciously. Breasts swayed and jiggled. Swollen bellies heaved. Some kept their thighs spread, showing off their pussy lips engulfing plastic shafts.

“Oh, fuck,” groaned Jordan, her hands squeezing her tits. She had her legs spread wide, showing off her clit piercing that I enjoyed during the interview months ago.

“I am so hard,” I moaned as the last girl settled into place.

“Me, too,” groaned Mr. Mondale.

“And now for the real fun to begin,” Karissa said, her voice purring. “I can tell you my pussy is more than envious for the buzzing fun that’s about to begin.”

All the girls gasped as the vibrators hummed to life in their pussies. Their backs straightened. Their eyes bulged. We didn’t tell any of them that they would have to deal with vibrators. Girls shifted their hips. Others clenched their jaws. Hands squeezed tits, held bellies, or clutched thighs. Already, the girls battled against the swelling pleasure.

“These are top of the line vibrators donated by the amazing Kink Crate, a wonderful company making the finest sex toys,” continued Karissa. “Each one has several actuators that cause multiple points of stimulation. They wiggle. Each little bump buzzes. They are designed to drive women wild. And you may not be able to see at home, but the bases are wide with labial and clitoral stimulation, too.”

“Oh, my fucking god!” Cass moaned, the black-haired girl shuddering. She leaned forward, her braid swaying down her back.

I shivered, my eyes flicking from girl-to-girl, watching their faces. I fisted my dick, my pussy clenching. My left hand crept up my thigh, reaching closer and closer to my juicy snatch as the moans and gasps of the pregnant contestants spilled through the air. Their passion reverberated through the studio. Their bodies shifted. They eyes widened as the pleasure assaulted their pussies.

“Which girl will cum first?” Karissa asked, her voice liquid honey through the PA system.

“Yes,” I moaned, my fingers reaching my hot pussy lips.

I stroked my wet labia, my juices flowing, while fisting my dick. My tits swayed in my bodice, my nipples rubbing against the black silk. The fabric caressed my nubs, shooting such wondrous delight right down to my pussy. So many beauties. Would it be Darcy who came first? The blonde trembled, her back arching, her small tits jiggling hard, the right pierced by a silver nipple.

Or Hispanic Consuelo? She had her legs thrown out wide apart, leaning back into her chair, her hands squeezing her breasts ripened into firm mounds by her pregnancy.

So many possibilities. My eyes flicked across them all, drinking in all the pregnant delights as I caressed my pussy lips and fisted my clit-dick. Then I jammed two fingers into my hot cunt, sinking them deep into my snatch.

“Yes,” I whimpered, adding my moans to the bliss echoing through the room.

“Ooh, is Kristina going to cum?” Amelia murmured. “Mr. Mondale, this is so hot to watch.”

I pumped my two fingers so deep into my juicy pussy, whimpering with all the pregnant beauties. My right hand slid up and down my dick, squeezing hard. The crown throbbed every time I reached the pinnacle as I drank in the sight of all these pregnant women shuddering and groaning and writhing in passion.

It was all so inspiring. It made me shudder. My snatch clenched so hard on my fingers. For a moment, I thought Sabrina would cum, her caramel face twisted in rapture. She squeezed her round breasts, thumbs brushing her brown nipples, almost lost to the rapture sweeping through her.

Then she pulled her hands away from her tits, shaking her head. She clenched her teeth, fighting through the rapture humming through her pussy. My own cunt clenched so hard on my fingers, envious of Sabrina’s vibrator.