Head to Futa Town

Your head swims at the new information and you decide to see for yourself if Charlotte was telling the truth by heading into Futa town.

The evenings were still warm so you slipped on a pair of beige cargo shorts and a red t-shirt. You told your mother you were going to a friend’s for the night and luckily she didn’t question it too closely before you had slipped out and were away on your adventure.

The only way to Futa town, as you found out, was by getting your regular bus to the end of the line then waiting at the depot for a special service which took you to the centre of futa town.

A short time after the regular bus departed the special service pulled up and stopped beside you, doors hissing open. The driver was a very tall woman, looking in her early 40s with meaty arms atop a stocky frame and pot belly and a mess of curly ginger hair above a freckled face. Based on her size you decided she must be a futa. She would have been around 7 feet tall had she been standing but she sat in the drivers seat, which apparently had been slightly enlarged to fit her along with the controls. You could see the other seats in the bus were similarly large, only fitting about half of the usual amount.

The driver frowned at you, confused as you stepped up to her.

“You sure you’re on the right bus hun?” She said, a gruff but feminine voice.

“Um I think so…” you stutter “one to f…futa town please”. You offer your usual fare but the driver holds up a hand.

“Ride’s free hun” she says, her eyes watching you intently through the rounded rear view mirror as you walked down the empty bus to take a seat.