The Futa Nandi

Looking in the mirror, you see the picture of an Amazonian warrior. Nearly seven feet tall, wearing exotic leathers and furs as sturdy makeshift bra and pants, the clothing shows off your large assets and tanned muscular frame. Your black curly hair is up in a makeshift bun, out of your angular and flawless face.

In your powerful village all citizens were broken into two social classes, your fellow futas as the elite, with all other races as a **** class. The futa filled roles of honor, mostly warriors or business owners, though those that wanted to pursue less honorable trades were allowed if slightly looked down upon. The slaves were either communal and owned by the village or the private property of individuals. There were slaves of all races and genders, some used for labor, some for their skills, but most were used as either pleasure slaves or breeding stock. The separation of the races were maintained by both custom and law though, as the futanari were the only ones that could own land or property, serve in the militia, or serve in leadership roles.

As the daughter of the chieftess, much is expected of you. You received the finest combat training, specializing in the spear and pole, history and science, and some magic, though you had no real skill in it. You're finally old enough to go on your pilgrimage, a time old tradition to prove both your value to the tribe as well as determine your future position. Your mother had racked up numerous accomplishments to earn the title of chieftess, including enslaving a princess, slaying a dragon, and numerous other exploits. You were the hope of your generation, and expected to accomplish atleast that much as well.

After preparing your supplies and saying your farewells, you exit your village gates and head into the expecting world.