Futa4M—Moving to FutaDom Town with my cute subby bf <3

Being a Futa is tough. Finding pants that fit without revealing my enormous bulge, keeping the standard 9-5 hours without a chance to drain my balls, and everything else are all difficult enough, but if there’s one thing that drives me bonkers, it’s the presumption that I’m a ‘girl.’

When we’re out in public the waitress will ask you what we want to eat, as if I don’t control your diet. Shopkeepers defer to you, as if I don’t control the purse strings. Flight attendants have gotten so irksome that I’ve started paying extra to fly us private, which is pricey, but does come with the added benefit of getting to fuck you up high, instead of having you just jerk me off under a thin airline blanket.

Overall, I’m growing tired of living in this backwards society. Someday us Futas will take everything over and put all you boys in your place, but until then, I just have to deal with the sexism.

Or do I?

You come home from running errands one afternoon to see that I'm home early, standing at the doorway with an odd smile. At first you’re fearful that I’ll punish you for not having the house in order, thinking you got the time wrong. I quickly explain what happened:

“This gal at work was telling me about this new community they’re building. Oh honey, it sounds so PERFECT!”

‘Perfect’ may be the right word, but only in the Futanari sense. The town—FutaDom Town, since we tend to be a fairly literal sex—is an idyll straight from a 1950s fantasy. Starter homes on half acres with white picket fences and big backyards with huge garages for our Futa-sized cars. You flip through the pamphlet while seated on the couch while I pace the living room, going over the logistics.

“There’s an office park just 10 minutes from the neighborhood, so I’d cut down a ton on commuting costs, and I could keep my job. But I’d probably get involved with one of the eight startups that are moving there, and they’re ALL Futa-run companies. Isn’t that exciting? We could retire early!”

You’re already retired, technically. I ‘allow’ you to keep a part-time job just to get you out of the house and have a bit of pocket money for your boy hobbies. But in terms of career, I am very much wearing the pants in our relationship.

“Did you check out the kitchen in the model home? Some of them are even nicer than that!” You nod slowly as you flip to the pics of the model home in this rather fat brochure. Even before we moved in together, I always acted like cooking was something you enjoyed—rather than something you had to learn painstakingly after I explained ‘a boy’s place is in the home.’ You’ve certainly gotten better at it, but it’s not like stainless steel appliances and a granite kitchen island make your heart swoon.

“And you haven’t even seen the best part yet…”I guide you hands to the back of the pamphlet. You swallow hard at the pics of a fully-equipped BDSM dungeon, and the words ‘standard in every basement!’ In bright white text across the top.

“We could play every night…Dear.” I run my fingertips glancingly across your chin.

“So what do you think? When are you ready to move?”

You look up at me, wide-eyed, not knowing how to express yourself. This is all so sudden. Sure, there have been multiple dramatic life changes you’ve made since getting involved with me, but this takes the cake.

“Um… I’d need to think about it,” you say quietly.

I fold my arms beneath my massive tits, then nod.

“Ugh, you’re so right. We still have the lease on this little shitbox,” I say, referring to our rather nice two bedroom that, of course, I pay for. I look around like it’s some hovel. Now that I know about Futa Town, everything else is going to seem dull and distant.

I nod, decisive. “You can think about it, then.” I point to the bedroom. “Ass up and lubed. I’ll give it some thought myself while I’m pounding you.” You purse your lips. Always so romantic, us Futas. But you get up and do what you’re told, since being treated like an owned piece of fuck meat—which, again, is what you are—always gets your dick hard.

I watch you scurry off to the bedroom like a good little boy. Knowing you need a few minutes to get prepped, I flop onto the couch, pick up the brochure, and place it against my chest with a happy sigh.

Futa Town, here we COME!

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What happens when a fierce FutaDom and her semi-reluctant ‘straight’ male sub-boyfriend move to a first-of-its-kind Futanari-run town? Let’s find out! Excited to play this out with a male who can play the hesitant-but-willing guy I need to make this happen.

Send me your thoughts and kinks and we'll plan it out then play. Okay toodles!