Hentai Dickgirls City

I sighed as I looked at my new futanari hentai home, once more cursing my mother's employer. It was his fault I had to move here. It wasn't that I was particularly fond of my old place. In fact, I have no real regrets about leaving it. It was more about the hassle moving was. Packing up all my shit, driving across the states, then unpacking it all. In protest, I decided to not help with the unpacking. Those apes could do it themselves.

I'm not like this all the time, in case you're wondering. Bitchy, I mean. I was just in a bad mood that day. I had no idea that this would be the day my life changed forever. It's funny how the worst day of your life can suddenly become the best. But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? My name is futa. Futanari hentai city chubby. I'm a senior in High School.though I should have graduated by now. I'm already eighteen. It wasn't my fault. This wasn't the first time I've had to pack up my life and move. It's hard to study.hard to concentrate knowing that you'd only have to leave soon. So I fucked up quite a bit, you could say. Again, not my fault. Anyway.I have short blonde hair that I dyed black a long time ago. I hated being a blonde. Nobody ever takes you seriously. It's also why I cropped my hair so short. I'm not too tall. I'd be mistaken for someone much younger if it wasn't for my breasts which were 38D. You might think that's lucky. You're not the one who has to do all these special exercises to avoid backaches.

What else can I say about myself.? I'm told I'm gothic. I think it's like insanity, though. You never know you're gothic until you're told you are.well, that's how it is with REAL Goths. If you're dressing in black because you want to be goth, then you're not a goth. Trust me. I wear a lot of black and my skin is very pale. I burn too easy to try and get a tan. Just a waste of time and a thin layer of skin. I don't pancake my make-up on. A little black lipstick, some crimson red fingernail polish on some fingers, jet black on others, and I'm good to go. I don't use eyeliner. I don't need it. Well, that's really all there is to say about me. I'm not all that interesting. Or rather, I wasn't all that interesting then.


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After unpacking the boxes that contained all my belongings, I decided to explore the dump that, for the time being, was my home. Well, it actually wasn't that bad. Two story house, fresh coat of paint on the house.it looked fine. But you have to remember I was feeling rather angry at my position in life at the time. I found little of interest. Some carvings in the wall.would probably be covered in paint eventually. No idea what they were and I didn't really care. Bored, I went back to my room and threw myself onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling.

And I paused.

As I looked at my ceiling, I realized there was a hatch above me, a string attached, though it had been pulled up. Standing up on my bed, I stretched until it hurt, finally managing to hook my fingers on the wooden piece at the end of the string and pull it down. An attic? The ladder came down as the hatch was opened, nearly striking me in the forehead. For a moment I thought about telling my mom.for a total of three seconds. Grabbing the first wrung, I climbed my way up. There was a string up there, dangling down. I knew this when it brushed against my face, nearly making me scream. I tugged it and it turned on a light. "Whoa." I whispered in amazement. The room was adorned in all sorts of symbols carved right into the wood. The floor had markings as well. Yet the real futanari eye catcher was a book on a small pedestal. Two candles stood next to it, unlit, obviously. That is, until I walked up to it. The two candles burst to life, startling me. I should have run. I should have panicked, called a priest and had the house blessed. The book, however, had me captivated.

With a shaking hand, I opened the book. The cover was a thick leather.the pages yellowed with age. The sort of book you don't even think exist anymore. Despite the yellowing, it was in remarkably good condition. No bookworm holes or anything. Not even water damage, which is odd since a room like this would be fairly humid during the summer. The first page had large print on it. "Only the initiated may read from these pages." Ignored it and turned the page.only to find them all stuck together.

"C'mon.let me read it," I hissed. I can't say why I was talking to the book. Perhaps the same reason I was bothering to read it, despite the self lighting candles. "How can I become initiated if I can't read from the.?" The pages came loose, but only a few of them. "Rite of Initiation" was the heading of the next page. My heart was pounding. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd ever find real magic. I was never a huge skeptic, but real magic? I had to read on. "To gain access to the knowledge within this tome," the page read, "the reader must make an unbreakable vow. One that will be signified and remembered for the rest of their days. If you are willing, remove all garments now." Hmm. The rest of it was gibberish.

Placing the book back on the pedestal, I undressed myself. Looking back, I think I may have been under the book's influence. Stripping just because a book said to? Not something most people do. Then again, I was in a secret room above my own room. Who'd see? Once I was naked, I reopened the book. To my amazement, the "gibberish" had translated itself into English. "Your willingness shows promise, but much more will be required of you. Turn your attention to the pedestal." I looked at the pedestal. It was becoming less of a surprise each time. Now there was a knife on the pedestal where the book was. What DID stun me was what that the handle of said knife was clearly phallic. I looked back at the book, as if to ask it what the hell the deal was. "Firstly, blood must be shed. Stand within the circle and adorn blood upon the proper symbols."

The circle was easy enough to figure out. It was right there on the floor. The question was, what were the "proper symbols"? I took the blade (with the very suggestive handle) and knelt down in the circle, studying the symbols. I don't know what I was looking for. Maybe a sign that said "bleed here". Well, it wasn't as blunt as that. Instead there was a droplet in circles. They seemed to glow.telling me that it was the right spots. Lifting the knife up, I removed the sheath it came in and I cut my finger and smeared my blood on the three points. .more. It needed more. I cut deeper, smearing more and more blood along the symbols in an almost frantic state.

With a start, I realized what I had done. I nearly panicked.until the symbols glowed and my cut closed. I went back to the book. "Your willingness has been noted, but more must be done. Insert the instrument into your most sacred place." I reread that last part before wincing. That was asking.a bit much. Still.I had come this far. And this was obviously the real deal. Who could pass up something like this? A chance like this comes...well.for most people, never in a lifetime! I had to do it. Spreading my legs, I raised the knife handle to my lips and slipped the dildo end into my mouth, slurping on the tip to get it nice and slick. For safety's sake, I put the sheath back on the blade so I didn't cut myself doing what had to be the most bizarre act of my life.

Pressing the handle against my pussy lips, I took a deep breath. "Okay," I thought, "just put it in and take it out. It didn't say how long I needed to keep it.AAAH!" As I pushed the handle in, however, my plans faded to nothing. A bolt of sheer lust seemed to course through me. "F.fuck! Fuck me!" I moaned in a near mindless state, pumping the dildo-like handle into my pussy. I was so wet that the sound of it going in and out was audible. My hips lurched on their own according, pushing it in deeper and deeper. I was an animal, driven wild with lust. I no longer cared about the ritual. I didn't care that I was in a secret room pleasuring myself with the other end of a knife. Nothing mattered but cumming. I had to cum. I needed it. If I didn't manage to climax, I'd die. .or at least that's how I was acting.

With my free hand, I squeezed my left breast. My hard nipple pressed against my palm as I kneaded the soft flesh. I couldn't speak coherently anymore. It was all moans, getting louder and more high pitched as I neared a fevered orgasm. I rubbed the handle against my clit as my eyes rolled back. Just as I had an explosive orgasm, I jammed the handle in.and felt it spray inside me. It didn't matter though. Reeling from my orgasm, I felt myself grow faint.then everything went black. I had cummed so hard I passed out.

I couldn't say how long I was out. As my eyes slowly fluttered open, there was no real way to tell time around me. No windows, my cellphone was in my pocket.and with my pants not on me, that did me little good. I groaned, sitting up. For the briefest.and I do mean BRIEFEST of moments I entertained the notion that it was all a dream. But the fact I was naked in some hidden room was enough to convince me otherwise. As I took in my current state, I took note that something was brushing against my leg. Glancing down, my brain nearly vacated my head.

I had a penis. The knife was gone. And I had a penis. I knew it was real because it was soft and nobody makes a soft dildo. And even soft, it had to be seven inches long! Bolting to my feet (and feeling my new appendage move as a result), I grabbed the book. It had opened to a new page with a single heading. "Welcome to the Futahood of Witches."