Epilogue

The last time you came as a male was easily the best. Creampieing your roommate’s pussy was incredible, but every orgasm you’ve had since has been bigger and better! As a Futa your body is so much more sensitive. You’re also far sexier! Not to mention hornier and hotter! Your roommate really made you the Futa you are today! She is undoubtedly incredibly amazing! After you turned you finally got to see her legendary lap dance. So good! As advertised it’s hot enough to shatter a man’s heterosexuality or at least enough to make him give up the act. She’s still working as a stripper as far as you know. You spent some amazing time with her dancing in the club, learning how to drive men and women crazy. But you eventually decided it was time to go your own way and leave your roommate behind, for all of her many many outstanding qualities she does have some old fashioned ideas.

She has this stubborn belief that you should wait for the men and women come to you. See her strip club and the whole roommate listing bit, they’re a bit stale for your tastes. Why should you have to wait for someone to come to you begging to be corrupted? There’s no need to wait, you can bring the fun to the people. You have never ever left anyone unsatisfied. They all end up as Futas begging you for more.

You remember the first time you expedited the process. You were heading in for a shift at the strip club when some asshole cut you off in traffic. He drove like a complete prick swerving across lanes refusing to let you pass. He flipped you off before taking an exit and you were mad enough to follow him - all the way home. His attitude changed when he saw that you were still there behind him. All of a sudden his driving was textbook, but you didn’t let his little act fool you. You watched him jump out of his car and run to his door checking behind to see you parked at the curb. You might have actually let it go there, you had given him a good scare. But then you noticed the ‘Fuck FUTAS’ sign in front of his place. And it didn’t mean fuck Futas in the fun way. Your anger burned hot again.
You weren’t done with that asshole. You checked your self in the mirror. Yep you’re fucking doing this!

You got out of the car and tried the front door, locked – that coward. Oh well. You glanced around and spotted some flower pots on the porch one of them had an accident with the narrow window next to the door. Sometimes you can be so clumsy! You reached in and fumbled until you had unlocked the door and then stepped into his home. You strutted in making the place your own, feeling powerful and unbearably horny. You found him in the kitchen. The poor repressed man whined and threatened, apparently he called the cops. None of it stopped you though. He was an asshole and Futas know exactly what to do with assholes.

He spewed a stream of obscenity at you as you got closer. So afraid of you and what you were there to show him about himself.
He was bent over the table moaning with your cock pounding into his ass when his wife walked in to find the two of you in the act. The look on her face as she watched her husband getting fucked is what really made you cum hard. You and the wife got to watch him transform on the table. Some people don’t even realize that the level of exposure determines the speed of their corruption, you know it oh so well! And a big Futa load emptied straight into a man’s ass makes for a very fast transformation indeed. In less than a minute he had become a buxom Futa. You climbed on top pinning her to the table and raining kisses on her as you pushed aside her old clothes. “Hey there sexy, what’s your name?” She thought a bit before happily replying “Felicia!” You smiled at the wife coping a feel of Felicia’s large firm breasts easily two cup sizes bigger than the missus.

That’s where you were when the cops arrived.

You couldn’t decide if you were happy or sad the cops were not Futas. Regardless Felicia’s opinion of your unorthodox entrance had shifted considerably. She was quite clear with the police that you were welcome inside her home and inside of her any time of the day or night. You couldn’t stop smirking at the officers as she did a one eighty on whatever she had told them on the phone.
Still it had the look and smell of a domestic dispute. You were escorted off of the premises, but otherwise free to go.
That was the first time, but not the last.