Opening

Never knowing what’s about to happen next is fun, to an extent. Life in the Futa Empire is wild, no one can deny that. Most would call it exhilarating, but I say it’s nerve wracking. As a free male in the Empire, I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. I’m constantly on guard. What’s worse, is that I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m bound by a futa. I may not know what’s going to happen next, but I know what’s going to happen eventually.

My country surrendered peacefully to the Empire so the shops, schools, and businesses are still standing. So are the apartments I’ve been assigned to. Funny thing, I used to live in these apartments just last year, me and two other guys rented a three bedroom, but I got evicted when the Empire took over. After moving back in with my parents, we all waited. Futa take over was reported as a brutal, devastating affair. Yet, for my small town, nothing happened after the evictions and business closures. After four months, whispers that we’d been forgotten started to spread, but then Jarl Cest showed up with her battalion of War Maidens.

They arrived in peace. No blood was shed, other than our former mayor’s. His domination and binding was a public affair that broadcast live on our local channel and his ass tore from Jarl Cest’s massive cock. I’d seen pictures of futanari before. We lived in a free country so looking at futa wasn’t illegal or anything, but the pictures just didn’t do them justice. Jarl Cest and her War Maidens fucked our former mayor into dust with their massive meat.

After that, the take over was slow, but steady. The harsh reality of the Empire’s age limit hit hard. Anyone over the age of 50 was screened for wellness, or fuckability really. Few over the age limit could pass the test. Those that failed were shipped off on busses or trains. Anyone under the age of 18 was flown off deeper into the Empire, to be raised by new futa parents. Businesses opened with new owners, college opened with new teachers, and my old apartment sent me a letter saying that I’m to report for my new life in the Empire.

I blink as I realize that the Finisterra sign has been updated to Futasterra. How original.

More singles line up to go through the front office. It looks like I got here just in time to be the last of the early birds. I see a few familiar faces but none of us have really spoken since Jarl Cest took over. After her impressive dicking of Mayor Tao, she’d cut off our cell towers, and instituted a strict lockdown. In another life, I would have thought such totalitarianism would have been met with guns, riot and all out resistance, but no one wanted to be the next Tao.

“Jack,” Abigale calls.

Big for a girl, Abigale stands an intimidating six-two, though I suppose that’s normal, or even a little short with all the futa running around. A catcher for softball, and a heavy on the volleyball court, Abigale held a solid frame with a little chub on her middle and thighs. Given that her dyed red hair reached her mid-back, she’d been growing it out since I’d last seen her.

I walk up to her in the line and flinch at the scowl the guy behind Abby gives me.

The guy is taller than me by a few inches. I’m only five-six, so it’s not uncommon for people to look down when addressing me. “No cutting,” he says.

“It’s just one person.” Abigale turns to him with hands on her hips, waiting for his response. None comes. “That’s what I thought.” She turns back to me and her harsh blue eyes soften as she grants me a winning smile. “So how have you been, buddy? I was worried about you.”

I shrug. “I’m good. Kinda weird being outside. I’m a bit nervous about all this… school stuff.” My words trail off as I think about what kind of schooling they’re going to give me.

I’d heard reports from inside the Empire, before it reached us, that men didn’t hold many positions that I would consider college level. Trash collection, janitor, butler, labor, nothing special. Secretary is probably the only profession I would need education on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Abby gives me a gentle pat on my shoulder. “Whatever they give you, just do your best. Okay? Life is worth living, even if we don’t get to choose what we’re doing. We’re still doing. Right?” She smiles at me with a big grin that coaxes my lips to curl.

“Yeah. Right.”

The line moves forward and we step inside the front office. It’s been renovated but nothing major. The main thing that all buildings needed to have updated were doors. With the average height of futa being six-ten, the doors have all been heightened to accommodate them.

At the back of the large head office, three paintings dominate the wall. The center painting is the Empress with her long black hair flowing down her back. Her high heel pierce the upturned ass of a man who’s cumming, while her massive cock has two women riding it like a horse with a third woman impaled on the head. The painting to the right is of Jarl Cest. It’s in a similar fashion as the one of the Empress, their familial features stand out seeing them so close to each other. The same sharp nose, dark green eyes and black hair, a massive, muscled frame and huge cock, though, the Empress looks to be edging out her cousin in that category. The painting to the left is of a woman I don’t recognize, but besides her red hair, she too has the dark green eyes and sharp nose of the Empress. Another cousin? Her painting shows her stepping on a pile of men with a pregnant woman licking her feet and another man sucking her balls, leaving her rod fully exposed. Smaller than the Empress, but large enough that I’m sure it would split me in two if I ever happened upon her.

“Jack! I didn’t know you were into futa.”

I blink and look at Abby in shock. “What? No. Why would you say that? I was just wondering who the woman was. I- I don’t like futa.” Another shock runs through me, though this one is laced with fear. “No! I mean, I like futa. I do. Futa are great. I’m just not into futa. I’m into women.” I look around just incase anyone heard my disparaging remark against futa.

Abby raises an eyebrow. “Really? What’s with the boner?”

I look down to my thin, Empire-designated, cloth pants. Even with only having a four incher, the tight pants show off my ass and, to my dismay, any erection that I might have.

“It happens.” I cover my bump with my hands. “It’s nothing I can help. You know, young men get hard sometimes. It was probably the tits!” I gesture to the paintings which display not only the massive, meaty cocks, but fat, engorged tits. Unlike women, who needed a child to have their tits grow heavy with milk, futa’s breasts stayed heavy with milk all year round.

Abby gives me a sly smile and a wink. “Right. The tits. You still eat cereal all the time?”

“What? Yeah.” Thrown by her response, I rub the back of my neck like I nearly always do when I’m nervous. I my hand to my side, cursing myself for having such an obvious tick. At least she’s off this futa shit.

“How have you liked all the futa milk the past couple months?”

What? What the fuck are you talking about? The words stay in my mind as I can’t get them to my mouth as my brain races to answer. The first store to open back up was the grocery store. They delivered all the groceries to my door. They had all my cell data and bank history to know what I liked to eat. I eat a lot of cereal, specifically Coco Puffs and Lucky Charms, though I do slip a few other in on rotation to keep things interesting. I remember thinking that the milk tasted so much better, so fresh and sweet. I’d figured with the restructuring of supply chains, it was probably just locally sourced or something. Oh, shit!

Abby laughed and slapped my back, knocking me forward. “Someone loves futa milk. No wonder you got hard.” She leaned down to put her lips to my ear. “They’re already turning you, Jack. You’re going love sucking on their tits while you ride their big cocks.”

Heat rushes through me and my dick throbs in pain it’s so hard. The eyes of everyone in line bore into me, undressing me. They can see my butt quiver in fear of the futa cocks that would one day, someday soon, rip into me. The heat splashes behind my eyes and my vision blurs from tears that I struggle to hold back.

Abby tousles my shaggy hair. “There, there, Jack. You’re going to be fine. Remember,” she pulls me by my shoulder into her, my head pushing into her cushy tits, “I’m here with you. If you ever feel scared, you can come to me. Okay?”

I nod and grip my arms so I don’t wrap them around Abby’s waist and look even more pathetic.

“Who’s this little one?” an inviting woman’s voice asks.

I look up and find that we’ve made it to the front of the line. The voice doesn’t belong to a woman, it belongs to a futa with glossy red lips and dark brown hair. Her brown eyes are soft and warm, looking at me with concern and love.

“This is Jack Cedar,” Abby answers for me.

“Well, he is just adorable. I know the girls will love having you around.” She gives me a wink as she reaches her hand across the table.

“Give her your hand, Jack,” Abby says with a light pat on my butt.

I throw my hand into the futa’s. Making a futa mad is on the bottom of my to do list.

She pulls out a scanner that runs a green line across my palm and she looks at the results and then she types something into her computer.

“Oh, Jack,” she says with a big smile. “I knew you looked special. You were selected for the Alpha program!” She beams a smile and reaches under the table to pull out a plastic card. “You’re in room number A-302. In the room, you’ll find your computer, laptop and cell phone. Log into each one, make sure they let you in with your face scan. If any don’t, come back here and go to that room over there. Reba will handle you if that happens. Otherwise, you’re free to walk the grounds, visit friends.” She gives Abby a sweet smile. “Just remember, you are not allowed to have unprotected sex with any futa for at least one week. Even if you really, really want to. There’s a bunch of condoms in your room to keep on your person at all times. So no excuse. I look forward to seeing you around.” She gives me another wink that makes the heat run through my cheeks. She laughs and claps her hands together. “So cute.”

Abby is given room D-104 and is told to expect a roommate. Building A is right out the door from the head office so Abby leaves to go to her room as I look up at the three-story building. Last time I was here, the buildings had four apartments per floor, with two doors on each side of the building, but there aren’t any doors on the second floor and only one on the first.

Both doors on my floor hare enlarged and my butt clenches at the thought of a futa walking into my apartment. I scan my plastic card and the door unlocks for me. The apartment looks great. Clean new carpet, a nice couch and TV with the PS6 already hooked up. I log onto all of my devices and go to the kitchen to find it’s been stuffed with all my favorite foods. I pull a pink sticky note off one of the gallons of milk.

4 gallons of milk for a big strong boy! Don’t waste a drop. A smiley face fills up the rest of the space.

Any hope that Abby had been pulling my leg vanishes. My curiosity pushes me to my new computer. A message appears for a mandatory video but it says I have to watch it before class tomorrow, so I’ll check it out later. I search Futanswers.com: What does futa milk do to a man’s body?

The search engine pulls back several articles touting how good futa milk is for human consumption. The data shows that it’s a much healthier option than cow or even goat milk. I go through several articles before I finally see the answer I’m looking for. Futa milk lowers testosterone in males and preps neural networks for servitude. Some studies even indicate that particularly strong futa milk can lead to cock addiction even though the subject has never been fucked by a futa cock.

“Fuck that!”

Who knows the damage that’s already been done by drinking the rich and creamy futa milk. I’d been drinking the delicious stuff for nearly five months. My throat dries as I stand from my desk. Fuck. How could I be so fucking stupid? I’d always prized myself for being smart, but here I am falling for the futa conversion because I thought it was coming and didn’t realize it’d already been here.

I storm out to the patio to get some fresh air and find a wonderful patio set that I’d never have been able to afford before. An identical one is on the patio next to mine and a familiar face is sitting out on his porch, smoking a cigarette.

“I thought they banned those,” I say, pointing at the cig.

Ben flips his dirty blond hair out of his face as he takes a drag. “These are futa cigs.” He holds it in the air like some kind of holy relic before he scoffs. “Using the classic name of Fag Cigarettes. Fucking dumb. Like taking the ingredients list off the package changes what it is.” He shakes his head.

Ben and I were roommates last time we were here. Both of us were friends of Matt, our third roomy, but we got along well. We were like the same person with different hair and skin colors. Both recluses, both miniature painters, both simi-pro gamers, both unsuccessful with women, the list went on.

“So you got chosen for the Alpha program?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, but Matt got the Charlie program. Seeing you here confirms my suspicions that it’s an intelligence thing. No offence to Matt, but… well, you know Matt.”

“So he’s in building C?”

“No. He’s in building G. He thought getting here first would mean we’d get to pick. Ha! What a fucking joke.”

I drag a thickly cushioned chair over to the edge of our patios. “What do you think they’re going to do to us?”

He takes another deep drag on his cig. “What do you think? They’re going to train us to suck dick and lick ass.”

“You don’t need much intelligence for that.” I frown.

“We’re going to be the best cock suckers,” Ben says with his arms wide as he bows like he’s on stage. He pushes his bud into a tray and then pops it into his mouth.

“Did you just eat the filter?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “No. These don’t have filters.”

“But you just ate the end of it? What’s up with that?”

He stands there for a moment looking at the empty ash tray. “Yeah. It’s just something I’ve been doing recently. I don’t know. Who gives a shit? We’re about to get turned into cock sleeves. Who cares?” He shrugs and walks to his sliding glass door. “Hey, if I were you, I’d see if that Abigale girl who always came around will fuck you before you lose your chance to ever use your dick.” He steps inside and disappears behind the closed blinds.

The lingering smoke smells kind of nice. Whatever the futa use for their cigs is probably way better than what we used to make them with. If I could say one thing about the futa, a silver line about their society would be that they’re very health conscious. As nice smelling as it may be, it strips what little moisture is left in my throat to the point that my esophagus feels like over baked bread. I go inside and open my fridge to get a Gatorade but there aren’t any.

_That’s odd. It’s been part of my grocery list every single time. _My eyes slide to the inviting futa milk. No! I can’t. Fuck! I’m coughing dust here. My hand reaches out and grabs a gallon. Maybe just a swallow. Just enough to coat my throat.

I twist off the top and open the jug. The smell hits me like a well-intended smack on the face. I place the edge to my lips and they instantly feel like they have a coating of chap stick applied. The milk slides over my tongue and down my gullet. Wave after wave of cold, creamy, glorious milk pours into my belly. I come up for air to find I drank nearly half the gallon.

“Ah, god! What am I doing?” I stuff the gallon back in the refrigerator.