Futanari Stories – The Manor

Futanari Stories - Dressing Room

 

When she rang the doorbell and I answered the door, I knew immediately there was something different about her. I’m not sure why, she looked normal enough. I could just feel it.

“Um, hi, I’m, um…”

“Megan,” I smiled and waved her inside, “we’ve been expecting you.” I stepped aside and closed the door behind her. “I believe we have you scheduled for a deep tissue massage?” I looked down at the little tablet in my hand while Megan stared around the place wide-eyed.

The Manor is not your usual spa. Yes, of course, we have all of the usual accouterments. We provide deep tissue massage, hot rock treatments, and even facials, but we also cater to people’s specific bends and fetishes.  The Manor is, for all intents and purposes, a dungeon.

Megan looked around for a moment and I was fairly sure she wanted to run. It happens, people sign up for something that intimidates them and then, when they show up, they chicken out. I put my hand on her arm. “It’s quite alright, Megan, You can relax. Here, right this way.”

I led us back through the building, which is a long series of hallways and doors that lead to various environments. My room, the one I led Megan to, has a Grecian theme with a digital mural on one wall that sets the room on the edge of a marble bath complete with alabaster pillars that looks out over rolling fields under blue skies.

The room is my office. Yes, there are other, darker rooms, where people’s fantasies of being cages or whipped or singed with candle wax are provided, but my room is one of the lighter rooms. I tend to take the new comers to The Manor, those that are there for the first time.

I knew the minute I read Megan’s email requesting an appointment that she was unsure of exactly what she wanted. She had ordered a deep tissue massage and she was a new client which is why it was forwarded to me, but she had checked a few boxes on the form that indicated she was curious about herself, about what she wanted.

We stepped into the big airy room and her eyes went wide again. “Oh my god, it looks so real!” She stared at the trees in the digital mural as they moved back and forth in the breeze. “That’s so cool.”

I stepped behind her and slipped her jacket over her shoulders. “It is isn’t it?” Megan let me take the jacket and I hung it on a hook next to the door. “I’ll also need you to remove the rest of your clothes.” I said.

Megan looked around the room which consisted of little more than the marble floor, some shelves along one wall,  and the hooks beside the door where I had placed her jacket.

It happens almost every time. Even people who are used to the idea of a dungeon, tend to wonder what happens in my office. There’s just not the usual look and feel, the room is bare and well lit.

“Um,” there was apprehension in her voice, “right now?”

I stepped in front of her and started to unbutton my blouse. “Here,” I smiled, “we can do this together. I find that it’s nice for both of us to be nude. It’s more comfortable.”

Megan swallowed hard and looked around again. “Where do we do the massage? There’s not a table, or…”

“Bed?” I glanced toward the ceiling. “No, we won’t need them.”

Her eyes followed mine and landed on the heavy chrome hook and black rope that hung above us. “You can’t be serious,” she said.

I slipped my blouse over my shoulders. “I noticed in your email that you selected a number of different boxes,” I held her gaze as I reached back and unhooked my bra, “you were kind of all over the place.”

“I,” she looked down at the floor, “I, um, you know, I mean, I was curious, I’m not like most. I mean, I’m normal, but…” She was rambling, a typical side-effect for first timers at The Manor.

I tossed my bra aside and stepped toward Megan. “It’s alright,” I reached out and took her hands. “That’s what I’m here for, to make you comfortable, to give you exactly what you want.”

Her eyes fell to my chest. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said quietly. “My therapist said I need to try new things.”

“It’s alright,” I reached down and lifted her blouse over her head.

Megan was in her early twenties, obviously a professional of some sort . I would have guessed that she was a lawyer or professor, something that required expensive clothes and shoes and probably capitalized on her confidence.

Her hair was bright red and cut short, just to the back of her neck with bangs that framed her face and almost touched her chin. She was in good shape, fit, but obviously not comfortable with her body. She was self conscious although I couldn’t understand why.

Actually, she was quite pretty, about my height and build, except for her breasts which I envied for their size. I reached around her body, pressing my chest into hers as I did, and unclasped her bra. She went rigid when we touched.

I pulled the lace cups away from her breasts and her nipples hardened immediately in the cool air. “You have to relax,” I reached down and unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt, “tell me a little about yourself. What do you do for a living?”

Megan smiled wistfully. “I’m usually in charge,” there was a tone in her voice, a strength and confidence I hadn’t heard before. “I’m a business lawyer. I tend to intimidate. People generally don’t like me.” She blushed again as I slipped her skirt free and exposed a pair of black lace panties.

“I had a feeling you were a lawyer,” I chuckled and started to pull her panties down when she stepped back.

“No fair, you still have a skirt on. ” she pointed at the little black pencil skirt I had worn that day.

“Okay,” I whipped my skirt down along with my panties which left me naked except from my thigh-highs. “Good enough?”

Megan’s eyes moved over me approvingly. “Yes,” she stepped out of her panties and tossed them onto the pile while I walked to the shelf and picked up my tablet again.

With a couple of touches, the motor behind the hook whined and I watched Megan stare up at it. I still couldn’t put my finger on it, what it was that was different about her, but it was there. She was unlike any client I had ever had.

She was confident but not with her body and she had she had chosen a dungeon – which meant there was something I couldn’t see, some secret fetish or desire. Normally, I could pick them, at least a broad category – sub, dom, pain, etc. Megan glanced at me nervously.

“Remember how they said you should try new things?” I smiled. I needed a way to reach Megan. She wasn’t the first woman who had walked into my office for the first time and been afraid and she wouldn’t be the last. Experience taught me to listen and use what the person said as an invitation, an incentive to let me do what I did best.

Megan swept a renegade lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes, new things,” the apprehension was obvious.

She’s used to being in charge. I stared at the woman in front of me. So, I need to be in charge. I looked over her email at the questions she had answered: if you were given the choice of being dominant or submissive, which would you choose? Megan had chosen in dom.

I reached up and slipped the heavy black rope from the curve of the hook. “Wrists,” I slid the robe between my fingers.

“How does this work?” She stared up at the hook, stalling.

“I’m going to pull you up until your feet are flat on the floor but you’re reaching as far as you can. It’ll feel good. I promise. Then I will move to the next part of the treatment.” I was intentionally vague.

She looked at me like she was trying to figure out if she should ask me what the next part was.

“Wrists,” I barked the word.

Megan lifted her arms toward me and I wound the rope, first around one wrist and then the other. She watched as my fingers tied the complicated knot around her, not too tight but tight enough that she couldn’t escape.

When I finished, I slowly led her forward a couple of steps. “Put your arms over your head,” I said.  She obeyed and I slipped the rope over the hook and reached for my tablet.

“What exactly are…” The sound of the hoist stopped her question and her arms rose above her head, tied at the wrist. The look in her eyes was almost fearful. “You know maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

Her body began to stretch out as she rose vertically until I touched the screen again. “It’s a great idea,” I smiled. “How do you feel?” I ran my eyes over her body making sure that I had lifted her far enough.

“Good, I mean, like a side of beef in a butcher’s shop, but good.” She tried to smile, an act of bravery.

“Good,” I touched my tablet and the lights in the room dimmed which created the illusion that we were standing on a portico in the shade overlooking the countryside. I picked up a bottle of oil and stepped over to Megan.

I poured the oil at the nape of Megan’s neck. It was cold and she jumped as it slowly rolled down her spine. Then I began to rub it in, slowly wiping it across the stretched muscles of her back. “Do you have a significant other?” I was determined to figure out what it was she was hiding. It was my new mission, my goal.

“No,” she sighed the word, obviously enjoying my attention. “God, that feels good.”

“Good,” I said. “Not about the significant other, but about how good it feels,” I used my knuckles and ran them along her spine, pressing into the flesh. “Why did you choose us, I mean, The Manor, why this place?”

“I’m not sure,” Megan tilted her head forward and shifted her weight onto her shoulders, “I mean, I saw the ad on the back of the paper and…” she paused when my fingers started working the top of her neck, under her hair. “…I was curious.”

Curious. I didn’t buy it. Lots of people were curious about dungeons, but they would never dare darken the door. And those that did come to The Manor knew exactly what they wanted.

I worked Megan’s shoulders and then stepped in front of her. “What made you curious?” I poured oil over the curves of her breasts and reached forward to rub it in as it dripped down the sides and onto the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?” She arched her body trying to pull away,

“Giving you a massage,” I defiantly rubbed the oil into her breasts, slipping my hands around the curves and squeezing gently. “Doesn’t it feel good?” I swept my fingers up along the front of her shoulders along the cords of stretched muscle.

She relaxed and smiled. “Yes, sorry.” She let her gaze wander across my body long enough for me to notice. “It feels great.”

It wasn’t the first time that a client had indicated their approval of my body. Nor was Megan the first woman to do so. But I hardly gave it a thought. My line of work tends to turn people on and happy endings weren’t voluntary at The Manor.

I ran my hands along Megan’s ribs, working the edges of each rib and then across the muscles of her belly.

“Everything about you says that you work too hard,” I ran my hands along her hips, moving from the front around to the small of her back, “but that’s not why you’re here.”

“No?” She watched my hands move along her flesh, “why then?”

“I’m not sure.” It was the truth. I hadn’t come up with a reason, she was a blank slate, a puzzle. Curiosity may have been a part of it, but there was more, there had to be. Very few people come to a dungeon on curiosity alone.

I started on her legs and ran my hands along the top of her thighs.

“No,” Megan tried to back away, “no, I think we’re good. Thank you, but could you let me down now?”

It was a sudden shift and it caught me off guard, but I wasn’t easily swayed. I looked up at her, my hands still working the top of her thighs. “No,” I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice was irritated, almost angry. “I asked to be let…”

“I heard you,” I swept my hands toward the inside of her thighs and dug my fingers into the muscles, “I’m just not listening.”

Her body quivered. “I said stop.”

I paused and met her gaze. “And I said no.” I ran my hands along her thighs, higher this time.

“No,” she closed her eyes tight. “Stop. I told you. I’m not…” Her breathing changed and her voice sounded desperate.

I pulled my hands away and stared at the pussy a foot from my face. What had been normal, as normal as my own, was now different, swollen, changing before my eyes.

“I said stop,” she looked at me and then down at her midsection. “Untie me, please.”

But something inside of me rebelled. I didn’t move. I wanted to see what was happening.

I stared at Megan’s mound as her clit emerged from between the gentle folds of her labia. It was bigger than any I had ever seen, the end of a pinkie finger in size – swollen and growing.

Megan moaned softly. “No, please. It’s happening again.”

My head was swimming up stream trying to find an explanation for what was happening. I had seen clit’s get hard before, hell, with a hot tongue against my own it stiffened like a pea, but I had never heard of anything like this.

Curiosity overcame reason and I reached out to touch the stiff little projection. Megan’s whole body shivered. “What is it?” I asked as the nub lengthened and changed shape from a clit to something like a penis.

“Please, let me down,” Megan tried to free her hands but my knots held her.

I knelt in front of her, fascinated by what I was watching. The clit, now free of her pussy was morphing into a shape I recognized – a cock, a good-sized cock. “Holy shit,” I muttered as the newly-formed penis pointed at me.

I couldn’t believe it. Of all of the things I had ever experienced at the The Manor (and trust me, there was a lot) nothing like this had ever happened before.

I couldn’t believe it was real, couldn’t believe that Megan had simply sprouted a full, man’s penis. I reached out and wrapped my hand around the shaft. I had to know how it felt, if it was real.

“No,” Megan panted, “please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” Her voice was plaintiff but husky, like she was on the edge of an orgasm and the realized that I was little turned on too.

It felt like any other cock. The thick vein across a man’s appendage rose defiantly under the tight skin of Megan’s cock and just like any man I had held in my hand, her’s was throbbing and hot. I looked up at the red-headed woman tied to my hook and smiled. “You haven’t come here yet.” I slowly started to stroke her.

“What?” She shook her head. “No, you can’t. I mean, don’t.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath obviously trying to control herself, but her cock seemed to be enjoying my touch.

I slid my hand along the length of it, it was only slightly longer than the longest I had ever played with. My fingers slid down the shaft to where it emerged from her pussy and I slipped a finger into her moist folds. Both?

“Ohhh…” Megan bit her lower lip. “You have to stop.” A bead of clear liquid appeared at the head. I watched it form and then slowly fall trailing a glistening strand.

My thoughts were a cloud of questions. What’s happening? Is this real? Does it work? Why am I turned on? What does she taste like? 

I looked up at my client. “I’m going to continue the massage.” I squeezed the throbbing cock in my grasp. “I mean, your therapist said you need to relax, right?”

Megan closed her eyes tight. “Don’t…stop.”

I ran my fingers gently along the skin and more of the clear liquid oozed from the tip. I leaned forward and ran my tongue across it, sweeping it into my mouth. It was almost sweet and there was something floral to it.

My pussy quivered. I have always been a sucker for a strong cock. Nothing turns me on more than a good stiffy and the opportunity to please it.

I reached forward and slid my fingers across her pussy and she moaned again. “Do you like that?”

She nodded.

“Say it,” I gave the words some authority. “Tell me how much you like it.” I pressed a finger inside of Megan and slowly kept stroking her cock.

“I like it,” she pressed her hips forward and my finger slid deeper inside. “It…feels…”

I swept another drop of pre onto my tongue and cunt tightened around my finger. Can she cum from both places?  I leaned in and slowly licked the underside of her cock.

“Oh, God,” Megan moaned.

Another finger joined the first and I started to finger fuck her pussy, wishing it was my own. My pussy was soaked and I ached to be touched, but both of my hands were occupied and I didn’t want to stop.

Megan’s hips started to ride my fingers and I slipped the head of her cock between my lips and swallowed more of the clear pre she gave. “Are you going to cum for me?” I stared into her eyes as I laid my tongue flat along her cock and licked her length.

“Yes,” she moaned and rocked her hips forward again. “Yes.”

I slipped the throbbing cock into my mouth. The sweet precum rolled across my tongue. I almost came from the taste. Pressing forward, I pushed Megan’s cock to the back of my throat.

“Oh…fuuuuck,” she stared down at me, delirious. “Oh, don’t stop.”

My fingers were a blur inside her snatch, as my head bobbed back and forth along her heft. I slid my free hand between my legs and into the moist folds of my own quim. The orgasm washed over my immediately and I moaned around her throbbing organ. .

“I’m going to cum,” Megan swung her body like she didn’t want to unload in my mouth, but I held her cock firm and wrapped my tongue around her.

The pressure moved up her shaft and then exploded against the back of my mouth.

I swallowed as fast I could but the cum bubbled past my lips. I closed my eyes and drove her deeper into my mouth, as the next surge of cream slipped down my throat.

Megan moaned and shivered as her cunt leaked it’s pleasure down my wrists.

I pulled away and licked my fingers clean. “How do you feel,” I smiled up at my newest client, “relaxed?”

Megan smiled a mischievous smile. “Now it’s my turn to hang you from the hook and show you what a futanari can do.”

 

 

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