Futa Cum Industries (prequel) [M, Futa] [Femdom]

(3 years before we meet Jag at Phoenix.)

“First dollar,” asked the well dressed young man sitting across the fashionable and darkly stained desk from Jag. His name was Qwan and he had gestured to a spot behind Jag. Jag didn’t need the years of experience to discern the intern across from him —who was interviewing for a full time position— was likely drenching his own arm pits.

Jag swiveled his comfy throne-like chair to gaze at the framed display on the glass shelf behind him. He didn’t turn around to speak to Qwan, giving the intern a long unobserved moment to collect himself and slow his heart rate.

“Yes it is, I know right? Dirty worthless paper money and all. This dollar meant a new life for me though, meant I could earn a living instead of taking one. Could finally be a fucking human being. That’s why you’re here, right Mister Gaspard?

He figured he’d given him enough time and swiveled back, “Too earn a living?”

Jag smiled inwardly, his subtle work had paid off. Qwan was relaxing and opening up, he was holding his gaze confidently and steadily, now there could be an interview. Being able to bullshit in an interview was hardly a skill he needed from an employee, this particular type of job needed a person with a certain drive. Jag wasn’t interested in people looking to earn a few bucks till something better turned up.

“That’s not enough for me.” Qwan said directly,” I read about you Mister Manus, you grew up in the cult lands like me, tuggers snatching everyone off the street to take back to their den mothers just to get an extra minuet to suck her. I don’t just want a living, I want to make sure all that stuff stays in the past.”

Jag smiled openly now, Qwan would be perfect. Good fontess trainers where hard to find but he had let over half of the interns for that position go because they didn’t answer that question right. Jag wanted this one managing a production floor, maybe them all, after some serious experience. Jag loved watching the newbies move up through the ranks like trees in a garden, his own personal grove of healthy green employees.

“Well said, well said. Things still aren’t perfect out there but that’s why I’m hiring you, we need more people draining those balls so we can keep said balls off the street,” Jag gave him a wink, ”and make a whole lotta money.”

“I like both parts!”

“Bet you do after watching without making a dime all year,” Jag gave a chuckle and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the expensive desk, “We used to call you guys ‘blueterns’ , always heading to the bathroom like you had just completed No Nut November on hard mode!” The two shared an understanding laugh.

“So its good your ready, that’s good because-,” A hollow staccato of footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

Judging by the long pauses between the clacks it could only be a exceptionally tall woman walking the fuck out of a pair of heals like a second set of feet. He knew owner well and the sound made his cock twitch at the thought of her. A cute assistant with bouncy blond hair hurriedly opened the thick door to his floor sized office. As attractive as the quickstepping blond was the one who entered after made the assistant seem invisible. Qwan didn’t turn around to look at the door, maybe he knew who was entering the office as well?

Her name was Jubil Manus, his wife, a futanari and now co-owner of Futa Cum Industries, she was an articulated example of beauty, tightly wound and sophisticated like a specimen of hyper advanced and gorgeous architecture in a woman’s form.

To Jag’s disappointment, she didn’t spare their newest employee an acknowledging glance, Qwan seemed to be retreating back into his shell at the thought of her, ruining Jag’s delicate labors to coax the man’s personality to the surface. The sound of her heels didn’t echo as in the lobby, sound absorbing furniture and artfully shaped walls dampened noise giving his massive floor office a still grand but intimate atmosphere, he felt it suited him.

She was dressed in a black hip hugging knee length skirt with an azure button up top with the sleeves folded back and fastened in place with buttons. Her dark eyes where framed by arching bold eyebrows and reflected the light shining in from the city viewing window from behind Jag.

“Jäger, a moment,” came her voice, throaty and yet feminine.

Jag could tell she came in person for a reason, one hopefully involving his cock.

“Qwan, please excuse us. I’ll leave you in Alice’s capable hands. She’ll get you set up, welcome to the team,” Jag said formally, gesturing to the red faced assistant standing at the door who’s eyes darted away from Jubil’s ass at the sound of her name, he could not blame her. Jag shook his sweaty hand and watched them leave.

They left the married couple with a sound of the closed door and idle chit chat. The floor grew quite.

“Please rest your feet my love,” Jag said gesturing to the now empty chair.

Jubil glanced at the seat and shifted her weight away from the faux leather seat, “Thank you dear Jäger, but I’ll stand, maybe when the ass sweat dries.”

“It’s fake leather so it’s ok.”

“We have hiring managers for a reason, Jäger.”

“Booty sweat?”

“No.”

“The reason that brought you in here,” Jag asked with a slight frown realizing the visit definitely didn’t involve a lusty lunch time liaison with his wife. She used to be so good with the employees, until she actually became their boss.

“ I need you to work your magic with the big problems. Our fontess contact is charging us 30% more per head now. She won’t talk to me about it. But you’re here training a new pet.”

“He’s going to be essential actually.”

“He left a butt print in your chair.”

“I know , he seems a lost cause but you have to dig to get that real gold mine. Qwan there is from the same neighborhood our contact is expanding her territory to. Her expenses and prices go up when she starts bringing new den mothers under her rule. The fontesses she sends us will be from those same streets, streets Qwan endured his whole life and wants to improve. He will do whatever is necessary to keep those fontesses happy and working for us. I’ve had him in the intern program for a year, he’s sincere. Besides this business wasn’t so civilized a few years ago. I’ll trade the blood for some butt sweat any day. Me and the ‘Duchess’ used to pay each other in bullets instead of credits. Now we help each other. This was all I ever wanted growing up. Futanari used to be viewed as sexual predators trying to breed humans out of existence, now they’re a healthy cure for depression. They’re co-workers, friends and family ,” he said looking into her eyes as his chest tightened.

“ Now you’re my future.”

“Guess I’ll be late meeting the sales rep now,” Jubil said in a low voice, her face visibly hot.

“I fucking hope so.”

Jag hurriedly opened a line to his assistant,” Alice, I’m absolutely not available.”

Jag began to unbuckle his leather belt but a halting slender finger stopped him.

“We don’t have time for trivial things like that in the office.”

“Damnit Jubil, not here not at home. When the fuck do you have time?”

Her face remained neutral,” I’m at full mast under this skirt because of what you said earlier, but now that mouth is ruining it. You’re aware how rare it is for you to give me an erection, so I don’t see why you’re trying to waste it.”

Jag’s mouth fell open,” Maybe I could top for once? You know I like that too right?”

She stepped closer and began rolling her black skirt up, her eyes growing wide. Here she went again.

“No, this is what I want to do. I’m not one of your little pets, I don’t just let you manipulate me because you pat me on the head and smile.” Hollow clacks sounded as she stepped behind his desk.

“Get the fuck out of my chair, Mrs. Manus.”

He hesitated a moment, the thrill of being humiliated by her had it’s moments. Fantasising himself as a mere mortal being taken by some goddess. He was a dom at heart, but also he was a husband. His wife’s needs should matter more than his, but did she even consider his own?

Where was the give and take? He was always forced to do both. Giving up for her, and then taking it up his ass. Maybe he could show what he needed by giving her what she needed? Though he had all but given that hope up.

He fell to his knees and moved so she could sit in what was now her chair. Her fleshy cock head exposed to the air just below her skirt. He reluctantly opened his mouth and took her inside yet again. Taking more of her length between his lips, he ducked his head under the skirt to suck her deeper. She purposefully would twitch her cock in his mouth to let him know he was doing well.

He extended his tongue underneath her warm cock as he took her deeper, she rewarded him with a twitch. He licked her undershaft even though he knew what she would do when he let his tounge out. Without his tongue to close his throat she slipped the end of her skirt around the back of his head and pulled his lips to the base. Bottoming out in his mouth pussy.

He took her with gagless ease. She twisted the fabric of her black skirt slowly with purpose. Gaining move leverage she began humping his face with unsympathetic lust. He wasted no time and began to use the only thing he was allowed to use, his tounge. He attacks her hairless sack with the need for air. Slobbering and lapping at her balls like he could suck a wife’s affection out of her cock. But that wasn’t what ever came out, ever. It had to be in there first.

There was no moan of pleasure, no encouraging or loving words. Just the squeak of an office chair and wet fleshy sounds of a multi millionaire getting his throat fucked.

His need for air began to persist. But how long would he hold his breath for the woman he loved? As long as needed. But his lungs didn’t love her as much as he did. His hand came up and pressed against her soft stomach involuntarily. His body was just naturally trying to protect itself as the panic set in. He tried to stand but her legs locked around his ribs hooking her feet together behind him. He wasn’t a weak man and attempted to stand picking up both of their combined weight with her cock still firmly burried down his gullet. He lost his balance as she twisted her body expertly causing him to fall on his back. Without air his will was only so deep.

Strength began to leave his body as his vision grew narrow. He fell to his back and she fell on top pinning his arms to the ground with her knees. She would have to love him after this, surely. Jag felt her dick begin to pull free only to slam home again. He didn’t have the strength to free himself. He deserved this.

Her hips repeatedly slammed into his nose, her balls loosely tapping his adam’s apple. She was on all fours like a beast rutting his face as a bitch in heat. And like a beast she buried herself to the balls and pumped her thick load into his belly with a grunt of satisfaction. Her sack tightening against his chin in orgasm.

Her cock throbbed it’s careless pleasure down his throat and he swallowed. He swallowed and swallowed. He didn’t deserve her love. Murderers didn’t deserve the love of a another. So he swallowed her cum like he swallowed his own guilt, every single day.

Then it was over. His wife pulled her cock free with a trail of mucus and a wet squish. She shook it off on his face, squeezing the last of her orgasm out on his distant expression. So this was what awaited him after all these years, a woman who used him like a cum rag. Was FCI worth killing for? Was she?

She turned and left, nonchalantly saying something about leaving him a message with his assistant. He couldn’t hear her anymore, just the voices of people who would have been alive if not for him, his dream.

Hurt or cry. Steal or starve. Kill or die. That’s what he used to be. Despite the pain, there was more love back then. More passion. People loved him more in a dirty shirt and jeans than they did in a designer suit. Now they loved his money.

He began to feel the light headed effect of her cum and the darkest feelings abated. Raw futa cum never had the effect on him as it did most with gut wrenching addiction. But it did put him in a damn good mood. Refining it did the same for others, but with health benefits. That idea had made him a fortune. Earned him a trophy wife. Maybe she was ok with a hollow marriage. With a husband she only touched when in need of a cum rag. Jag wasn’t, not anymore.

He didn’t need to go back to that same old person he used to be, but old Jäger had something the new one didn’t. It was time to go find it. The money, business all that did was get in the way. He could start again but stay small. Let Jubil have FCI and the money, was all she cared about anyway. Maybe he would finally make her happy?

There where so many things he missed about those old day. Where to start first?

“Oh allice,” he smiled into the intercom as he righted himself and sat in Jubil’s chair again.

“Come in here please.”

End

Thank you for reading.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/iw8i3l/futa_cum_industries_prequel_m_futa_femdom