Daughter (Futa)

Sam's eyes slowly opened to the sight of leafy, green trees. She had fallen asleep in the car. She had "taken the edge off" right before mom made her pack up her entire life while she watched (read: no porn, no toys, no nothing!) and announced a plan to ship her off to another fucking anti-sex clinic: She was angry and sleepy, so she fell asleep in the car. Now, it seemed, they were pulling up to the facility.

Driving through oak gates and under large wood placard with the name "Camp Everwood" burned into the wood, the car pulled up in front a brown building with a wood sign above the door that read, "admissions." Sam got out of the car and looked around. The door in front of her was the only building accessible from the street. To the right and left of the building were large rock faces, easily 15 feet high. Looking at the top of the face to his right, she could see what could be the foundation of a large log cabin through a chain link fence. This place was designed to keep people inside.

"This place looks like a prison, Mom!" Sam's sister, Joanna, lagged behind a minute after she and mom got out of the car, but had now caught up and was not happy with what she saw. "She probably rubbed one out before getting thrown into this hellhole," Sam thought. "Lucky."

"I'm sure it will be nicer once we get inside, girls," Claudia said. "The camp said that everyone who comes here has a good time and I'm sure you will too, but they have to take precautions. Everyone inside is the camp's responsibility..."

The "admissions" door opened and out walked an tall man in a red flannel shirt and tan corduroys. "Mrs. Archer!" The man said, extending his hand to greet them. "Welcome to Camp Everwood!" The man turned to the girls. "And this must be Sam..." He grabbed and shook her hand vigorously. "And Joanna." The man looked each girl up and down as he addressed them. "He's definitely checking me out," Sam thought, "isn't this supposed to be some kind of anti-masturbation facility?"

Joanna didn't give a fuck where she was. She eye-fucked the shit out of the guy. "Come in! Come in! I'm Terry Whitewater, the operations manager for the camp's day-to-day activities."

Claudia looked concerned. "I'm sorry, I was expecting Mr. Vandersloot... He assured us that he would take care of everything."

"Mrs. Archer," Whitewater said, "unfortunately Mr. Vandersloot was needed in the camp to take care of an urgent matter. He apologizes for not being able to handle this personally, but I promise your girls will be in great hands here."

Mr. Whitewater held the door open, ushering the ladies inside to a hospital-style waiting room. Plaid, plastic-wrapped couches the walls on either side. A TV playing CNN was mounted on one wall. A blonde women wearing dark blue scrubs sat behind a desk a the opening to a short hallway ending with large, heavy double doors.

"Mrs. Archer, your sons and husband have not arrived yet. If you would like to wait for them and begin the process together, please feel free to wait here."

Paul and Claudia drove the boys and girls up separately. In the past they found that having four compulsive masturbators in the car is just too hard to control.

"Ummm..." Claudia stalled. She felt like she should wait, but was worried what would be happen if they dawdled. Joanna already looked like she was a light breeze away from jamming her hand down her pants again. Sam was minding her manners, but the bulge in her yoga pants told her that it was only matter of time before she started getting handsy. "No, let's just get it over with. If I don't get to say goodbye to my boys, I can just come up and see them..."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Archer," Mr. Whitewater cut her off. "We do not allow patients to see anyone from outside the facility for the first 48 hours. And, while you will be able to visit after that point, we really advise keeping visits to a minimum, and only with the express consent of the patient and her primary caregiver in advance.

"Oh... Alright. That makes sense," Claudia replied, realizing that she would not see her children for some time. "I guess that makes sense. Whatever it takes to help them get better."

"Do you have any questions before we check the girls in? Assuming you've filled out and brought the paperwork I sent you, this will be your last chance to back out." Whitewater turned to the girls and smiled. "And what about you two, huh? Are you ladies ready for a life-changing experience?" The girls looked down and could see a thick lump swelling on Mr. Whitewater's left leg. "I know your parents are checking you in here against your wishes, but I promise you that, by the end of the day, you will be excited to join us." Whitewater looked Sam up and down, and noticed a little 10-inch wrinkle strain the crotch of her pants.

And, once again, she was outed. Yes, Sam was a woman with a cock. When her parents were trying, her father took an experimental hormone pill called Hyspermerol, that made his semen more potent. After 13-15 years, when the children of first men who took Hyspermerol hit puberty, they started going through drastic changes. The guys' penises grew larger than average, and they tended to have larger than average sex drives. And the girls... Well, they grew penises, too. Most of 'em were just as big as the guys. And their sex drives were even higher. Sam started to get antsy if she didn't cum 5-6 times a day. During the lawsuits, the media started calling the children of Hyspermerol patients "Futanari" (or Futa, for short). The term stuck, but only for the girls.

"Ah yes," Mr. Whitewater said. "Sam. I am so sorry. We normally bring out a special welcoming committee for young women whose sex drive stems from Hyspermerol use. There are quite a few girls like you here, and we know that this situation can be especially difficult for you. Since you're here with your family, we wanted to wait until you'd said your goodbyes. But I want you to know that we see you and we are here to support you. You do not need to hide who you are."

"Yeah right," Sam said. "My teachers said that, too. But they treated me like a freak all the same."

Mr. Whitewater stepped to Sam, put his hand on her shoulder, and looked into her large green eyes. "I'm sorry that happened. And I realize you may not have any trust left to give. But every child of Hypermerol use who's come through our doors is much happier now than when they first walked in. Sam we are not trying to fix or change you. We just want to give you the tools to stay in control at all times.

"Doesn't that sound better than what you've been doing?"

Sam knew she would wind up on some kind of watchlist if things kept going the way she was going. She had no impulse control at all. She had a couple of girlfriends in high school, but she always wanted to go too far, too fast. She didn't like the idea of going to sex jail, but she had to admit that "more control" seemed like a good thing.

"How... How does it work?" Sam asked.

"Well, if you and your mom are ready, I can bring you in and you can talk to the other girls about that," he replied. "You can wait here with your mom and your sister to say your goodbyes, but it sounds like you're ready to get started."

Sam nodded, then she turned to her mom and her sister. She hugged them, said her goodbyes, then walked through the double doors.