Chapter 2: Futa’s First Sinful Delight

April 17th, 2047

“Did you know there’s a convent in the middle of the Nebraska cornfields?” I asked Adelia, the delicious and fun woman interviewing me on my forty-eight birthday. We were talking about my life as the world’s first futa while across the world people were watching the broadcast streamed live over the internet.

“Really?” Adelia asked, blinking those soft-brown eyes of her. She pursed those delicious lips that had sucked my futa-cock not long ago during the last commercial break. “No, I didn’t know that. So you found this while ... wandering?”

“Bumming around America,” I said, “with my futa-dick in hand.” I shivered, enjoying talking about that time in my life, right after I graduated from the University of Washington, when I hitchhiked across America for awhile, aimless.

I didn’t know what to do with my life. Besides breeding horny women.

“After my fun with the Pelley family, and the rest of their interesting church community, I kept heading east until I hit Dallas. I had some fun there but ended up wandering north up I-35. I met this female trucker.” I gave a wicked giggle. “She had a strap-on in her cab and, well, I made her late for her delivery, but left her with my own package.”

A great giggling laugh rose from the studio audience. I could feel their eyes watching me in the shadows beyond the stage light, an amorphous sea of horny women with a scattering of my grown-up futa-daughters.

“She dropped me off in Wichita. I kept going north up I-135, moving through Kansas, enjoying those devout Christian wives and daughters.” I shuddered, my futa-cock throbbing. “There was a lot of crying out to God.”

“More virgins deflowered?” Adelia asked.

“I was becoming addicted to it,” I said and shivered. “By the time I was in the middle of Nebraska, I-135 had become Highway 81. I was surrounded by corn somewhere south of a place called York. It was muggy. I never thought it would be so humid in the Midwest. It was like I was in a swamp or something. Apparently, corn sweats.”

“Sweats?” Adelia asked.

I nodded my head. “It adds a ton of moisture to the air and makes the summers just suck.” I shook my head. “I was dying, wanting to find a nice, cool place to rest up and a friendly woman to love, when the thunderstorm hit. It came out of nowhere. The floodgates of heaven opened up. In a heartbeat, I was soaked.

“And then the hail started.”

“Oh, no,” Adelia gasped. “I heard hailstones can get big out there.”

“I was just starting to panic, thinking I was in trouble,” I said, glancing to the left where my wife, Sharron, watched from the side of the set, her blue eyes wide. “And then the van pulled up. I just hopped in and had one naughty surprise.”

August 15th, 2021

“Holy shit!” I screamed, holding my worn backpack over my head. The hail thundered down around me, the size of pebbles and growing larger. They bounced off my backpack and pelted my naked calves and thighs. I whimpered, my t-shirt soaked to my tits, my skirt clinging to my legs. My shoes felt like a sodden mess. The drainage ditch to my right already ran like a river.

The rain just started.

“What the fuck is going on?” I shouted, the corn rustling beside me as torrents of rain swept through, carrying more of the stinging hail.

I was in trouble. My head cast about, searching for a structure to take shelter in when rubber squealed. A van screeched to a stop by the side of the highway. I barely absorbed what it looked liked—gray, boxy, some sort of logo on the sliding side door. I just sprang at the passenger door, grasped the chrome-plated handle, and wrenched it open.

“Oh, thank Christ,” I gasped as I hurtled inside, water dripping down my face. My clothes clung to me, squishing against the seat. The hail pounded on the roof. Ice chucks the size of marbles drummed on the hood, leaving little divots in the metal.

A small crack splintered across a corner of the windshield.

“You okay?” a woman asked. “Boy, you got caught out in it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I...” My words trailed off as I glanced at the driver. I blinked.

I blinked again.

A nun in a black habit sat in the driver seat, her plump lips pursed. She had a round, youthful face, her dark hair mostly covered by a black veil that draped across her shoulders. A crucifix dangled down her chest over the swell of her breasts. They rose and fell as she stared at me, a look of such concern filled her hazel eyes.

“You’re a nun!” I blurted out.

“Yes, I am a nun,” she said as the van drove forward. “We exist still. I’m Sister Chastity Hope of the Benedictine Sisters of Undying Devotion.”

“A nun,” I said again. “That’s not a Halloween costume and ... No, no, that would be a lot ... uh...”

“Lewder?” she suggested, a touch of color blossoming her cheeks. Her eyes glanced at me, flicking at my breasts outlined by my soaked shirt. My braless tits bled through the white cloth, my pink nipples prominent points.

“Yeah,” I said, squirming. A tingle raced down to my girl-dick and pussy. My shaft gave a twitch as the blood began flowing. There was something so ... enticing about her. She was a nun, wrapped up in the bulky, black robe to hide the beauty of her body, sworn to purity.

Was she an actual virgin?

My dick hardened faster. My pussy grew juicier.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” I said, the hail drumming faster. “You came along just in time.”

“The Lord’s providence was with you today,” she said. “I’ve seen the hail get as big as softballs and ... Well, that would not be a good thing to happen to a young woman to do out here all alone.” She glanced at me then at my bag. “Are you in ... trouble?”

“No, no, just seeing America,” I said. “I’m Becky Woodward.” My smile grew. “Yes, yes, that Becky Woodward.”

She blinked at me and tilted her head. “I’m sorry, but ... I’ve never heard of a Becky Woodward.”

“You haven’t?” I didn’t realize how big my ego had swelled until I felt the sharpness of her words puncture it. I thought they entire world had heard of me. “I’m the first futa.”

“Futa?” she asked, glancing at me again. Her eyes flicked down to my breasts. Then they darted back up to stare down the road.

“Yeah, I’ve been interviewed like a hundred times. I’ve been all the news networks, all the morning shows, the evening shows. Kimmel, Colbert, John Oliver, Conan, Jimmy Fallon.”

“Oh, well, we don’t have TVs or radios at our convent.”

“And no computers, either, huh?” I asked, my shoulders slumping.

“The only news we get comes from the diocese,” she said. “We’re a cloistered order, cut off from the world.” She patted my leg for a moment, her touch so warm compared to the wet skin. The heat rushed up to my pussy. My snatch clenched and my dick swelled harder, tenting the front of my sodden jean skirt. “I’m sure other people know who you are, though pride like that is not a good thing. It won’t be fulfilling for you.”

“Yeah,” I said, her touch electric.

She drove one-handed for about a minute, stroking the other up and down my bare thigh. It felt wonderful. I leaned back into the chair, not minding my blonde locks clinging to my face or my clothing molded to my body. Her touch warmed me up, my girl-dick aching to have some fun.

With a nun.

Could her vow of purity hold out against her womb begging to be impregnated.

Then Sister Chastity Hope gave a squeak and jerked her hand away. She shifted in the seat, both gripping the steering wheel. Her knuckles went white as she stared ahead. Her entire body went tense. She leaned forward, almost trying to hug her steering wheel.

She looked so cute. She couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me, in her mid-twenties.

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

“Hmm?” Sister Chastity Hope asked, her cheeks blushing redder. “Oh, yes, the convent. I was just buying supplies for our garden. We try to grow as much of our own food as we can.”

“The convent?” I said, a wicked smile spreading across my lips. “How utterly delightful. I wouldn’t mind getting a tour. Exploring every little crevasse of your convent. Seeing what it’s like. I bet it’s ... interesting.”

She shivered, licking her lips. “I ... well, maybe. It’s not really a place for outsiders. I can just drive you to York and...”

I touched her thigh. Her words trailed off as I stroked her through the fabric of her habit. I felt her flesh. She felt sleek and warm. She glanced at me, her pupils dilated. She swallowed as I stroked up and down her.

“W-what are you doing, Becky?” Sister Chastity Hope asked.

“Just returning the favor. It felt soooooo nice when you stroked my thigh.” I gave her leg a squeeze before sliding a little higher, passing the halfway point of her leg, reaching towards that naughty apex. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“I ... I shouldn’t have done that,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did. I’m feeling ... out of sorts.”

“Mmm, me, too,” I said, squirming. “But if you don’t want me to touch you...” I pulled my hands away.

Sister Chastity Hope bit her lower lip. Her hands writhed on the vinyl covering of the steering wheel. A squeaking sound echoed through the cab. She squirmed in place, her breasts rising and falling as she shook her head. She looked so tense. So nervous.

I loved it.

She made a turn off the highway, passing through a sign that read, “Convent of Undying Devotion.” I shivered, peering ahead for it. What would a convent look like. Would it be this stone, Gothic structure out in the middle of the fields? It wasn’t corn here, but wild grasses that grew waist high. The van’s wheels crunched on the gravel as we drove down the lane. It followed the curve of the land, a little folded here and not as flat as it appeared.

Sister Chastity Hope squirmed the entire way.

Ahead, a wooden structure appeared. It looked like ... a very large house. It was clear it was meant to shelter more than just a family. It had several wings thrust off of it and rose three stories high in the center, the entire structure covered in wood siding painted a robin blue. The lawn around it was neat and orderly, a dark-green compared to the yellowish grass around us. There were rows of trees, a small orchard, and an orderly garden that looked bigger than my parent’s house back in Seattle.

She drove the van to a large carport with several other vehicles, including an old pickup truck, parked in it. She turned off the ignition and undid her seatbelt. She squirmed there for a minute, her breathing coming fast and quick.

“Is something wrong?” I asked her, my girl-dick so hard.

“Yes, something is wrong,” she said. “I ... I...” She stared at me, such a pleading look in her eyes. “I’ve never felt like this in my life! This can’t be happening. Not here. Not with a woman.”

“It’s my tits, right?” I asked. “I should have worn a bra. You just can’t stop looking at them.”

The nun flinched. She swallowed. “Oh, Lord, why have you beset me with such temptation?”

I felt kind of bad for her. She thought sex was wrong. Her head was all screwed up. But even as she prayed, Sister Chastity Hope stared at me with such hunger brewing in her hazel eyes. She licked her plump lips as she shuddered.

“But it’s more than my tits, isn’t it?” I said and peeled up my damp top. The cloth clung to my tits for a moment, the fabric stretching, then sprang over them. My round tits quivered as I peeled off the wet t-shirt, glad to be out of the soaked garment. “And it’s more than my hard, pink nipples that’s got you squirming.”

I tweaked one as she stared at my naked tits with such hunger in her eyes.

“It’s that hot hole between your thighs,” I told her. “That naughty, itching pussy that’s the problem. It’s aching for you to do things with me.”

She just whimpered.

“I know,” I told her. “It’s okay. This happens to every woman that meets me. Don’t be alarmed. You’re going to enjoy yourself so much. You’re going to be thoroughly satiated by my futa-cock.”

“Futa ... cock?” She said the words slow. Then her eyes flicked down to my crotch, and she noticed the bulge. “Oh, Lord, what is that?”

“That is my clit-dick,” I said. “That’s the other word I used for it. It used to be my clit and...” I gave her a look. “You know what your clit is, right? Your clitoris?”

“I had health class,” she said, her eyes so wide. She leaned her head, staring at my bulge. “But ... you can’t have that. You’re so ... womanly.”

“Because I am womanly,” I said, pulling up my skirt.

Sister Chastity Hope gave a squeak and jumped back at the sight of my cock popping out. It thrust into the air and quivered there, twitching and throbbing. I smiled at her reaction, then at the way she leaned back closer, eyes locked on my large shaft.

“See the pussy lips wrapped around the base,” I said. “Notice my lack of balls. I’m a futanari. The world’s first. That’s why I’m famous. Every woman—”

Sister Chastity Hope sucked the tip of my cock into her mouth.

I gasped in shock. She moved so fast. The nun’s head shot down, her black veil draping over my lap. My breasts bounced before me as I groaned. Her warm mouth engulfed my dick. It was heavenly. A nun was giving me a blowjob.

I leaned back in my seat, just savoring this delicious moment. Her lips sealed about my base. The suction reached down my shaft and into my pussy. My futa-dick throbbed in her mouth. She sucked again and again, moaning about it.

“Sister Chastity Hope,” I gasped. “Ooh, you naughty nun, I love it.”

My breasts jiggled above her as I squirmed. Pleasure rippled through my body. My pussy clenched every time she suckled. My juices flowered hot, trickling out of me. I squirmed on the seat, my ass rubbing into my wet skirt.

“Yes, yes, yes, such a naughty nun. Mmm, just suck on my girl-dick. Ooh, yes, but...” I frowned. All she did was suck. “Is this your first blowjob?”

She moaned what sounded like a yes about my dick.

Some reason, that just made my ovaries clench. The ache swelled at the tip of my dick. “Ooh, you are an innocent thing, Sister Chastity Hope.”

She sucked again on my dick.

“Well, you got to move your tongue around my cock and ... Yes, yes, like that.” I shivered as her tongue stroked back and forth along the bottom of my crown. “Swipe it all around the tip, really stimulate me and ... That’s good. Ooh, you do that, and I’m going to cum.”

She whimpered and danced her tongue along the tip of my girl-dick. The pleasure flooded through me. My hands found my tits, still wet from the rain, and squeezed my round mounds. I shook my perky boobs, my nipples so hard on top. I stared down at the nun, loving her demure veil draped over my lap, hiding her naughty act.

“And bob your head, too,” I said. “Slide those pretty lips up and down my cock while you suck ... Ooh, just like that. Mmm, I liked that. Yes, Sister Chastity Hope. That’s good.”

Her mouth slid slowly up and down my cock. She took more and more of my shaft in her mouth, her tongue swishing back and forth, before she slid back up. She sucked the entire time. My body squirmed, my pussy clenching. The ache grew at the tip of my cock, my girl-cum eager to spurt into her hungry mouth.

“And your fingers...” I shivered. “Your fingers need to stroke my pussy lips. Don’t be afraid of my cunt. It’s so wet and eager to be touched.”

Her sucking stopped for a moment as her hand slid down my thigh. Her fingers felt ... nervous. There was a twitch to them. She whimpered about my girl-dick, her tongue hardly moving at all as her fingers neared my pussy.

“Don’t stop sucking,” I groaned. “Keep blowing me as your fingers touch my pussy and ... Oh, yes!”

She sucked hard just as her fingers found my pussy folds. She slid through my bush to stroke up and down my slit. She tasted my petals, pleasure racing up to build in the tip of my girl-dick buried in that warm mouth of hers. She bobbed again, tongue moving, stimulating me.

“Oh, Sister Chastity Hope, yes. That’s how you blow a futa’s cock. Mmm, you’re getting so good at it.”

I shifted in my seat as the pleasure built and built in me. Her sucking mouth and stroking fingers brought me closer to my eruption with ever passing heartbeat. My fingers dug into my perky tits as she pleasured me. She slurped as she blew me, her head moving, twisting, her passions building.

Then she jammed two fingers into my pussy.

“Sister Chastity Hope!” I gasped, loving her initiative.

Her fingers plunged in and out of my pussy, stimulating my inner depths. Pleasure rippled out of my cunt and flowed to my ovaries and the tip of my futa-cock. I whimpered, my snatch squeezing down on her digits, increasing that wicked friction.

My orgasm built even faster. This naughty nun gave me such delight. My fingers dug so hard into her tits. The passenger seat creaked as I squirmed. My booted feet kicked forward, striking the floorboard. It was so good.

“I’m going to flood your mouth with so much cum, Sister Chastity Hope,” I moaned. “Just drown you in jizz.”

She sucked harder. Her fingers plunged harder into my cunt.

“Ooh, yes you want that. You’re just a cum-hungry nun. Mmm, yes, yes, yes!”

It all happened at once.

My futa-cock erupted.

The driver door wrenched open.

I screamed out, “Sister Chastity Hope, drink down all my cum!”

“Oh, my Lord!” a new voice gasped in shock. “What devilry is this?”

Pleasure boiled out of my girl-dick. It pumped into Sister Chastity Hope’s hungry mouth. She gulped it down, swallowing it while her fingers wiggled in my spasming cunt. Pleasure rippled out of me as I squirmed on the seat. It shifted beneath me, the pleasure racing through my body. It was incredible.

I was drunk on the bliss. It boiled through my mind. My head tossed from side to side as the dual delights drowned me in ecstasy. My girl-cock kept erupting, spurting blast after blast of my futa-jizz into the nun’s mouth.

“Sister Chastity Hope, swallow every drop!” I gasped, my pussy spasming harder about her fingers. “You’re so wanton.”

“Sister Chastity Hope!” the new voice gasped again. “Stop this perversity right this instant!”

My eyes fluttered. Through the stars dancing across my vision, I saw the stern face of an older nun glaring at me over Sister Chastity Hope’s shoulders. I shuddered, my fingers kneading my tits as I fired the last blast of my girl-cum into the nun’s hungry mouth.

“Mmm, you have such a friendly nun,” I moaned. “She’s just making me feel so welcomed at your convent.”

“You filthy, lesbian hussies!” the woman shouted. She seized Sister Chastity Hope and hauled her bodily out of the cab, ripping the nun’s mouth off my girl-dick. My shaft waved back and forth, glistening with my passion. “And you, you...”

The older nun’s jaw dropped.

“M-Mother Superior,” Sister Chastity Hope sobbed. “I ... I ... don’t know what happened. I was ... was overcome by the need to ... to suck her...”

“Tranny cock?” finished the Mother Superior, her eyes locked on my dick. A sneer spreading across her tight lips. Her green eyes glazed with righteous fury.

“Tranny cock?” I demanded. The way she said those words, with such sneering contempt, angered me.

I wrenched open the door of the van and hopped out, my naked tits bouncing, my girl-dick thrusting before me. I marched around the van to face the angry Mother Superior. She stood gripping the cringing Sister Chastity Hope, waiting for me.

“You think this is a tranny cock?” I demanded. “This is a futa-cock! I have a pussy and a dick. Your nun there was having a great time fingering it, too, weren’t you?”

“Well ... I ... Yes.” Sister Chastity Hope’s cheeks burned scarlet. The nun shuddered, kneeling beside the Mother Superior. The fingers of her right hand glistened with my pussy juices.

“What are you?” the Mother Superior asked. “A demon given flesh? A walking perversion?”

“Maybe,” I said. I didn’t know how I became a futanari. It seemed to defy all the known laws of how cells grew. Appendages just didn’t grow in seconds to sizes a hundred times their original size in a minute. Nor did they develop all the necessary internal structures so fast, like the vas deferens that ran from my ovaries to the tip of my dick. “Maybe I am a naughty futa-demon sent here to breed every last virgin cunt in this convent.”

Sister Chastity Hope moaned, “Breed...” before she thrust her pussy-coated fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them, fucking them in and out like they were my futa-cock. Her cheeks hollowed. She shuddered, squeezing her hazel eyes shut.