Futanari Stable

Futanari Stable: Eye to Eye

Hey all!  There’s a new series available, Futanari Stable.

The resilient Ivy is left to handle the family business while her father travels west. Alone on the isolated ranch, she tends to the new futanari stock her father recently purchased.

Becca is a loose gun on the run from a past red hot on her cowboy booted heels. A past she is grimly determined to avoid meeting eye to eye come hell or high water.

Brought together by fate, how will crossing paths change their lives?

Futanari Stable is an erotic tale set in a steampunk, western world. and here is the first chapter free!

Chapter 1 – Ivy

 

The blind in my bedroom window is not the best. It hangs a little crooked and the bottom three slats are bent slightly. In the morning, the sun shines right through that gap and hits me square in the face. I stopped using an alarm clock. Now I just get up when the sun does.

I know it sounds early, but I live on a farm and everything you’ve ever heard about a farm is true, including that farm life always starts early.

That morning, I got up even before the sun reached the hole in the blinds. I don’t know why, probably nerves. I hadn’t slept well. I never did the first night Dad was gone.

I liked having the place to myself. I mean, I liked being able to whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. But the giant house felt even bigger when it was just me.

I wasn’t afraid. No, living out in the middle of nowhere, on a farm almost no one even knew existed, teaches you that there isn’t much to be afraid of. Not out here.

No, being alone in the house, it just felt empty. A house needs more than one person. Deserves it. Especially a place as big as our house.

So, instead of tossing and turning, lying in bed just waiting for the sun to reach my face, I got up, got dressed, and made some breakfast. I didn’t bother with pajama bottoms or a shirt though. As soon as I got out of the shower I just walked straight to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, naked as the day I was born.

I poured a little cream into my coffee and watched as the clouds of white liquid swirled through the black, blossoming to the top. Then I saw dad’s note sitting by the loaf of bread.

 

Don’t forget the Kurtalium. Twice a day with the new stock! Morning and evening. Aunt Jessica won’t be coming to check on you this trip, she is already in San Fran. to meet your brother. Should have plenty of everything, if not, order whatever you need. Back as soon as everything is settled. – Love, Dad.

Short and sweet, just the way dad liked. I knew about the Kurtalium, didn’t know about Jessica.

The day before he had left, dad had quizzed me twice on the daily routine I had been living through for years. You would have thought it was the first time I had ever been home alone before. Yet, here was a note, going over the details, one more time.

Morning and night. Don’t forget. It’s really important. It had taken everything I had not to roll my eyes while he told me for the umpteenth time. This season is going to be a good one, Ivy. He had been so optimistic when the latest herd had arrived a few days ago.

It was the same thing he had been saying since we had started the farm, back when we could only afford two, back when we worked a wheat crop in addition to the stable.

Now we had four and dad was working on a new building that would give us space to take on boarders, something dad wanted to do to expand.

I walked around the house naked while I drank my coffee. I hated the fact that everyone got to go to Gavin’s graduation and placement except me. I didn’t really care much about the graduation, except for the parties Gavin told me they were going to have afterwards.

The thing I was really interested in, the real reason I wanted to go, was because I had never been any further away from the farm than Denby or Lentin, the little crap towns out here in the middle of nowhere, forty minutes from everywhere. You know just far enough away to be inconvenient.

I had never been to a city where there were buildings that were so tall they looked like they disappeared in the clouds. A real city where people didn’t wear boots all day and there were restaurants and saloons. Out here, in the country, when you stepped out the front door, you couldn’t see another house. I had only heard stories of a restaurants and department stores. On the radio I listened to Macy’s day parade and dreamed of New York.

I walked to the back of the house and looked out toward the barn. The sun was just cresting the horizon, the slanted light fell across the grass and the dew looked like a field of diamonds.

Our barn was a simple thing. It was a two-story building, the bottom half was still the original stone, then there was wood and aluminium where it had been enlarged. The front had two big doors that slid open wide enough to allow tractors and farm equipment inside.

I have always liked the old barn. The stone my great grandfather used, matches the house. Big, grey stones mortared into a wall ten feet tall. The rest of the barn and the house were built on top of the stone.

Nothing else on the property matched. Everything was built at different times and with different materials. The utility/office building my grandfather had built when he was in his twenties was made of corrugated steel and had two windows. He had built it as the family’s first real office. A place he could work on the paperwork and finances of running a farm.

Now it was the place we used to store some of the more expensive equipment and supplies because it was just ahead of the stalls.

The quick paint job dad & Gavin had given it a couple of summers back was starting to fade. The hopeful bright blue starting to shift into a darker shade as the years passed.

I looked down at the hard-packed earth between the house and the barn and thought of all the people, all the family that had crossed back and forth, morning, noon, and night for over a hundred and fifty years.

Dad used to say the land and our family had worked together so long that we were kin.

I walked out onto the big, back porch and looked out over our land. It was a beautiful thing to watch the dawning sun peak over the horizon beside the big barn. The wide sliver of golden light catching in the hay loft underneath the arched roof line as it climbed higher in the sky.

Even though I knew it wasn’t true, it all seemed so still. The breeze barely moved the golden wheat fields that stretched away in every direction.

I laid my hand on the cool stone and looked through the window at the picture of my great grandfather and grandmother standing in front of the house. He had paid for the one level ranch home to be built when he settled with his blushing new bride in the area little more than a century ago. My grandfather, Steven had built the simple home to make room for the family he and Beth knew they would have.

The house expanded during his lifetime. He and his two sons made additions as needed and money allowed.

Then the war came. My great uncle died on a hill in Europe. His brother returned to the farm and with far more modest aims, worked the land and took on a little livestock. Before he died, and left the farm to his only son, my dad. He had doubled the amount of acreage we had.

Coffee in hand I did a couple fancy pirouettes on the covered wooden porch that wrapped around the rear of the house without spilling a drop. A ballerina I wasn’t but I carried myself with more than a little grace.

The rooster, Henry, crowed from along the northern retaining wall. It was getting late. With a heavy sigh, I retreated into the house to get dressed.

The bedrooms in the house were all down one hallway. Gav’s was first, then mine, and dads was on the end. His was the only one with a little en suite bathroom in the bedroom. The other bathroom was just after Gav’s room on the opposite side of the hall.

Nostalgia, however brief, caused me to peek in for a heartbeat.

The room was just the way he had left it when he went back to university for the holiday. The bed had been hastily made, the blanket barely tossed up toward the pillow – messy. It made me smile, I missed him.

It seemed so weird that I would probably never see him again. Even before graduation, Gav had been contracted by one of the bigger mining companies. Geology was hot everywhere, especially in the rings and outer belts.

Dad and my Aunt would get to see him and the following morning, he was supposed to board a transport.

He had left me a letter after the last visit. We had said our goodbyes the night before and he had slipped it under my door. He had said that he loved me and that he would miss me.

It was strange sharing a life with someone for so long and then they just go, disappear into a life somewhere else.

I smiled when I saw the loose clothes piled rudely into a corner. Gav had never been the neatest person, smart but messy and his hurried simplicity made me smile.

I missed him.

My room told a slightly different story. Gav and dad were simplistic, minimalists. They were rugged and practical. They both liked both clean and dirty clothes in piles rather than hanging in a closet. They hardly ever made their beds and shoes stayed where they were kicked off.

Modern and simple were more my speed. Not quite what you would call girly, not quite tomboyish, but I liked colour and order. The wall behind my bed was painted a deep green. I had a painting I had bought in Denby hanging over my headboard, a landscape with rolling hills and cotton ball clouds. It was simple and peaceful.

Another major difference was the long mirror hanging on the wall beside my dresser. My reflection caught my eye for a moment and I paused.

My smile became a frown.

I hate the way I look. I always have. I’m not quite rail thin, but I’m real close – one of the wider fence posts on the edge of the property could give me a run for my money. It can never be said that I lack curves, they’re just sparing. My bust, though pleasing, was just large enough to consider wearing a bra on a good day. Needless to say, I went without unless I was made to dress civilized – mostly just funerals and weddings. Sometimes we would go to church, but I think that had less to do with God and more to do with Stacey Middleton, Stephanie’s widowed mother.

I did a little turn in front of the mirror.

My butt was tight but just as unflattering. Every other woman I’ve met has been more pronounced, more feminine than me. A silhouette that made it clear they were women.

The up side was I was taller than normal for my age. Always had been.

Both my dad & aunt Jessica said I took after my mother in that department. That I get my brown hair & green eyes from her along with my silly giggle.

She died a day or two after I was born. Labour hadn’t gone smoothly. Apparently, I hadn’t been excited to exit the womb.

Every time dad mentions her he looks a little sad.

I put my coffee down and threw on some pants, boots, and a flannel shirt. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and checked my phone. No messages. There never were.

Then I headed out to the barn.

 

Dad had purchased the four head about week before he left for Gavin’s graduation. I had been working with my aunt in Denby, securing transport for the two we had just sold. So, I hadn’t really had a chance to work with the new ones on my own much.

All I really knew was that they were expensive. Dad had taken the sale money from the last two, all of our savings, and borrowed money from his sister to buy these four. Said they were going to change our lives. That we would finally be able to afford things that other people took for granted, like a trip to the big city or a nice dinner in town.

 

I stepped up to the door and the motion detected light came on. I unlocked the door and walked into the room we keep all of the supplies in. I flipped the switch and the lights came on. It was so quiet.

I took a step toward the refrigerator and saw the note lying on the counter next to the big stainless-steel sink.

Don’t forget the Kurtalium, twice a day on all four.

I almost laughed out loud. Dad was nothing if not thorough.

I opened the fridge and pulled out the big, red jug. I opened the cabinet and pulled out four clear vials and then looked at the list dad had taped to the inside of the door. “A gets 12, B gets 11, C gets 11, and D gets 9.” I read it out loud as I filled each little vial. Then I grabbed all four and stepped into the barn itself.

 

The barn my great grandfather built all those years ago was a barn built to house hay and straw, farm equipment and whatever else a massive working farm needed to house. Then my grandfather added onto that barn because he liked to collect cars. So, he built an underground storage facility under the barn, spent tons of money digging it out, having everything built just the way he wanted it.

 

Then Dad took over the farm before Gavin was born. And he changed everything again. Now instead of a large open area to store farm equipment or classic cars, we had four main stalls, built double-wide.

 

I flipped the light switch just inside the main door, and the ambient lights came on, just enough for me to see my way around, but without waking of the stock.

Carrying the vials in my shirt pocket, I walked to the far side of the barn and wrestled the first machine out of the storage.

I hated the machines. They were big and noisy, and all the tubes and fittings had been sanitized before and after everything. I mean, if you looked at the tubes and fittings, you had to clean and sanitize them.

I wrestled it out of the storage with the hoses over my shoulder and then found the little hand truck I liked to use. It helped to roll the machines to the stalls. Dad might have been strong enough to carry them, but not me.

 

The lights in stall A came on when I stepped through the door. She had been sleeping in the corner, curled up on her little bed, drooling on the pillow. She opened her eyes, saw me, and then sat up with a little smile.

I reached out and ran my hand through her hair, tucking one side of her bangs behind her ears. Her hair was almost as long as mine, but just a shade darker.

A nuzzled her cheek into my hand for a moment. She was so sweet, with big kind eyes, and a round face. She always looked like she was happy.

I took the first teat cup in my left hand and grabbed her breast with my right. Her breast was small, this set of stock was still a season away from being able to breed, but it was still larger than mine, with a dark areola and thick nipples.

I turned the machine on with my foot and it hummed to life like a vacuum cleaner but a lot louder. The teat cup covered her nipple. I let go and repeated the process on the left breast.

A sat there on the edge of her bed, staring up at me with her big brown eyes.

I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out her vial of Kurtalium.

She looked at it and her eyes got big. I could tell she didn’t like it. They never did, but it was the only way the physiology would work. That’s how dad explained it. Without the Kurtalium the stock couldn’t breed, and if they couldn’t breed, we wouldn’t make enough money off their milk to keep the farm going.

I ran my fingers through A’s hair and tried to calm her down. “It’s okay, girl.” I said, softly. “It’s not that bad.” I lifted the vial to her lips and she opened them enough that I could dump the red liquid into her mouth. “Now swallow,” I put my finger on her throat and slowly stroked it, coaxing her to swallow.

A swallowed and then licked her lips and then made a sour face and stuck out her tongue.

I laughed, and she grinned.

“Come on, we’ve got one more.”

I put my hands on her thighs and pulled them apart. Her futanari cock was flaccid, it looked like a featherless bird perched at the top of her vulva.

I held the teat cup in my left hand and took hold of her penis. “Come on, girl.” I gave it a little tug and squeezed it with my fingers. It was so soft and small.

A gave a little sigh and leaned back on her elbows. The two teat cups and hoses hung from her firm breasts, the hoses ran down her belly and across her thighs, white with the milk they carried back to the pump.

“Come on, girl, make it hard for Ivy.” I moved my fingers along the frenulum.

 

It wasn’t sexual. I had done it a hundred times on different futanari. You would think it would be sexual, at least somewhat, I mean, the equipment is the same. Each futanari was grown with male and female genitalia, both sets of sexual organs worked, both sets looked exactly like a man’s penis and a woman’s vagina.

But because it was on the stock, even though it looked and felt the same, it was different.

At least, it was supposed to be.

A looked up at me with her big brown eyes and gave me a little grin. She sighed, and the tissue began stiffening in my hand. I grabbed her at the root. “Good girl, make it hard for Ivy.”

Futanari ejaculate or cream, as most people preferred to call it, wasn’t used in very much but there wasn’t very much of it either which made it expensive. Of course, the ejaculate required a very specialized storage system, a system that had cost us almost a hundred thousand dollars.

We were in debt up to our eyeballs. And worst of all, after a futanari started breeding, her ejaculate was worthless. There was a chemical change that came with procreation, it was the reason futanari were grown and not birthed like normal children.

I slipped the long cylinder-shaped cup onto A’s erection and she moaned softly. After the machine started, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes while the suction did its work.

I patted her on the head and left her alone. The machine that milked her erection would time the futanari’s orgasm to coincide with the completion of her milk collection. Everything was very high-tech.

Stepping out of A’s stall, I moved to the next one. B was already awake, on her hands and knees in front of her bowl, happily scarfing down protein flakes. I stepped into the stall and patted her bare ass cheeks to make sure I didn’t scare her.

She wriggled her ass at me, took another bite of her breakfast and then rubbed her face along the side of my leg.

Her red hair was a bird nest of tangles and curls. Her narrow face and freckles were so cute. I couldn’t help myself, I ran my hand through her tangles and tried to smooth it all out. She looked at me with her steel blue eyes and then rubbed her head against my head, so I would keep rubbing.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out her morning dose. She sat up on her knees and patiently waited for me to tip it back into her mouth.

B needed no coaxing. If anything, B liked the red juice.

She finished the vial and then climbed onto the bed.

I waited while she turned around and sat on the edge of the bed.

B had been my favourite of the new group. Dad always said it was a bad idea to name the futanari’s, said it was only going to break my heart when they had to leave.

But I really wanted to name B. To me she was a Bridgette, or maybe a Bianca. I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that we were close in age, and she looked like if she was a real human, we would have been friends. There was just something about her, I mean, I knew she was just a futa, grown in a laboratory and genetically compromised so they don’t have to deal with things like feelings and the like, but there was just something about B, that drew me to her.

She sat there, staring at the wall on the other side of the room, chewing on the last of her protein flakes.

I ran my hands through a tangle of her red hair and then tucked it behind her ear.

She just sat there, slowly chewing, her shoulders a little slumped, her naked body waiting.

I wanted to give her a cool name.

Reaching out, I grabbed her left breast, B’s was considerably larger than A’s. She had heavy round breasts, C-cups at least with little nipples and dark brown areolas. I put the teat cup on and did the same on the right.

Her penis was already hard, B always seemed to be hard, and I slid the sleeve on. I don’t know why, but I looked up at her face. When I did, I caught her staring at my breasts. It was like she was trying to figure out why they were so much smaller than hers.

I felt self-conscious and put my arm over my chest. “Hey,” I teased, “I’m up here.” I laughed at my own joke while B just sat there staring at me.

Then the suction around her cock began and she gave a little whimper of pleasure and laid down on her side.

I ran my hands through her hair and she rubbed her cheek on my hand. I straightened out the hoses, went and got two more milking machines, and went onto the next stall.

C was the biggest of the current four. When the transport had arrived, and I got my first chance to see the new stock, C took my breath away.

She was tall and had thick muscles. I had never seen anyone, let alone a futanari, as strong as C was.

When I opened the stall door, she was in the far corner, scratching the middle of her back on the corner of the wall. She was black with close trimmed hair and big, round eyes. She was taller than the other three by almost a foot.

She was stronger than A and B put together. In the yard, she liked to move the lifting blocks that dad had run up and down along the side of the barn. C was the first futanari to use them. Most of them, when they got time in the field, usually like to roam or run around the big track. D liked to spend her time in the corner of the yard, climbing the trees near the fence.

C saw me and stopped scratching her back. She took a couple steps toward me. I had to look up to meet her gaze.

A little chill went through me. She was intimidating. Every part of her had visible muscle. From her shoulders down, every contour was a little more extreme – hard biceps, her core, and of course, she had a penis that matched.

She looked at me lazily, like she didn’t care if I was there or not, and then sat down on the edge of her bed. C was unflappable, the kind of futa that nothing seemed to modify her mood. She was even, all the time. Feeding – even. Yard time and exercise – even. When the transport had unloaded the four of them, she was the only one they didn’t have to use a prod on to get out of the trailer.

C was calm, all the time, no matter what.

I reached into my pocket and grabbed the little hair brush I had bought the last time I was in town, close bristles.

She glanced down at my hand and then back at the machine that was humming next to me, then at the food.

I brushed the top of her head slowly and then the sides. I put a knee on the bed and did the back. When I finished, I put it the brush back in my pocket and grabbed the cup and hoses.

C arched her back slightly, she had learned quickly, and I lifted her breasts to attach each teat cup over her large, round nipples.

The log between her legs was standing when I finished with her breasts and I slipped cock sleeve over it. There was immediate hissing sound.

The suction hadn’t taken.

I leaned down and inspected the sleeve. C had grown, and the internal sleeve needed an adjustment.

Pulling the sleeve off, C gave a deep sigh.

I looked up and saw that she was watching me working between her thighs. “It’s ok, girl, you’re getting bigger,” I smiled.

C’s dick pointed straight up, eager for the sleeve and the suction. I twisted the sleeve itself and straightened out the liner.

Each futa still grew before they were ready to breed. It made some things unpredictable. The science that had led to the accidental creation of the futa’s had been experimental genetics.

When the first futanari were created the genes were immediately regulated. Some feared the that genetic disorder would spread. Some thought a new species had been created. Others were sure whatever god they believe in, wasn’t going to like what we had done.

But there were always anomalies appeared with the mutation. A couple years back one of the fillies a lithe blonde number dad had picked up at an auction outside of Jackson Hole actually grew a second, working dick. The thing pumped just as much semen as the first one. Nearly doubled her worth.

An adorable brown eyed filly we had a few seasons back gained a third breast. Sorta like that science fiction story dad loved so much, Total Recall or something.

Most changes presented themselves just before the first breeding cycle taking us and everyone else we talked about it to by complete surprise. When we had purchased the one that grew a second dick, she had been as normal as all the others.

She had been one of the reasons we could afford four this season.

I attached the sleeve and C immediately grabbed it with her hand.

I reached down and took it away. “What’s the matter? Does it hurt?” I turned off the machine and C gave a mournful sigh.

“Well, I’ve got to see what’s wrong with…” I got down on my hands and knees and spread her thighs, so I could inspect the suction.

The sleeve was all the way down to her base and I didn’t see any visible gaps in the thing. I reached out and grabbed it with my hand and C’s hips gave a little thrust.

“Oh, hey,” I laughed, “Oh, that’s what’s going on.”

C’s eyes were bright and there was a crazy little grin on her face.

“Someone’s super fucking horny this morning, huh?” I turned the machine back on.

Immediately, C gave a little moan

I shook my head and straightened out the milk hoses before I walked down to the last stall.

When I got the last stall, my heart sank. The door was open, not unlocked, open. I left the milking machine and rushed inside.

D was gone.

 

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