Maria N. Lang - Futanarium 2 - An Erotic Short Story Bundle

Futanarium 2: An Erotic Short Story Bundle

By Maria N. Lang

Copyright 2014 Maria N. Lang

Kindle Edition

This book contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language, and is intended for sale to adult audiences only. All sexually active characters in this work are of legal age (18 or over).

Content Warning: This bundle contains 5 dark futanari/f stories. There's BDSM, there's dubcon, there's menage, there's cheating, there's breeding, and much more. There is a little something for everyone, as long as you like futanari erotica!

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Muffled, exhausted moans had become an everyday backdrop, the same way the muted sound of never-stopping traffic was for those living in the city. Each individual cell was soundproofed, but with so many needed, it had been a rush job and the consequences were readily heard. The noise was overwhelming in the actual pens, past the glass doors and padded concrete walls.

Jacqueline pulled the corner of her lower lip in between her teeth and reached up to readjust her glasses with her middle finger. A few years ago, she had used that same tactic to signal students when it was time to shut up, but it had since become habit. People did not notice being given the finger as much when she did it under the pretense of lifting her glasses further up her nose.

How many hours, so far? Her voice was neutral, and any sign that they were dealing with human subjects was wiped clean.

Seventeen, miss James, said the male technician with the responsibility for this particular pen.

Any of them had to be pulled yet?

Two, miss James. The remaining eight are holding up well.

She nodded, and made a note of the pens status on her PDA. Before nodding a mixture of well done and goodbye to the technician, she pushed a loose, raven black hair out of her face. Despite the tight ponytail regulation demanded, a few hairs always seemed to make it their days job to annoy her.

Jacqueline walked further down the unadorned, concrete hallway, her stiletto heels clacking sharply against the cement floor. The next technician was a woman, and she was clearly less comfortable with the situation than the previous man. Jacqueline smiled, half to herself, half to the woman. The new people always had to get used to things.

How many hours?

Twelve, miss James, said the woman. She swallowed, and looked on the cusp of adding something, but it seemed her courage failed her.

Any of them had to be removed from the trial yet?

Three, miss James, said the woman. She swallowed again, a light sweat having broken out on her forehead.

Early. Not a good sign, that. Jacqueline noted the numbers down in her PDA with a dissatisfied curl of her lips. She glanced to the technician again, offering what she hoped was an encouraging smile. It was fake, of course, but she did not want to go through the hiring process again any time soon. You want to say something, said Jacqueline, glancing to the womans name tag....Nina. Go ahead.

Miss James, is what were doing here-- Is it... Legal? Is it ethical? I know they sign a contract and everything, but it seems... I mean, weve already had to remove three, and one of them seemed almost comatose from overstimulation. I dont think its safe.

Jacqueline nodded her way through the womans words with a polite smile, though she was inwardly picturing grabbing her collar and screaming in her face. This complaint happened every time a new overseer joined the experiment. She glanced left to see the technician she had just spoken to smile a bit in recognition, then looked back to Nina. The two seemed about the same height. At least she did not have to look up at this particular employee.

Nina, she said, adjusting her glasses out of habit. This is perfectly legal research. We have state approval, and as for the ethics of it, its simple. We dont force any of the subjects to go through this. We offer it as a way to make money - very good money - and thats it. They sign on the dotted line. No one has suffered lasting consequences as of yet.

But the comatose one--

No -lasting- consequences, Nina. Sure, she might be a bit, well, unreachable for a few weeks, but shell get over it, and shell walk out of here with more money than shed be able to make in a year of regular work. Everybody wins.

Alright, said the technician, though she did not sound convinced.

Jacqueline knew that she would have to have this conversation again, but that was not unusual. Everyone came around eventually. She put a hopefully reassuring hand on Ninas shoulder, and then moved on to the third of the five pens.

Each pen was in a various stage of its two-day cycle. The ones in the latter stages both had less than five subjects left, but even that was encouraging. When the experiments started six months ago, not a single subject lasted more than six hours. Gradual changes and improvements to the drug had changed that, and she felt they were now very close to having the first subject go through a full 48 hours of non-stop stimulation.

That was only the first goal, of course. The second was to further modify what would become Aphrodax so that it had at least a 99% success rate. Jacqueline had never really been told why the state wanted this drug perfected and produced, but the position as head of the project paid astronomically, and she had not seen anyone hurt by the project. And, really, what could a drug that aided in female sexual stimulation and endurance hurt?

She was more concerned about the part of the trial that she was not in control of or even privy to. She had always released her subjects when it was time, and when she was sure that they were well again. The other half of the experiment had taken in just as many subjects as she, but not released a single one of them. And when she asked, all she got were looks and tightly sealed lips. No one was willing to talk. It was more secretive than the national banks printing press.

She had, after a while, launched a formal inquiry to at least find out what was happening to the subjects. She was told, after weeks of delay and dragging of feet, that the subjects of the other part of the trial were going through longer experiments. They were not done after a month, like her crop was. Their trials were from six months and up.

Of course, there was one draconian part of her contract. Jacqueline figured that it was simply a rather unorthodox method of ensuring that she did her work well, but it was still unsettling. When the drug was considered complete or near-complete, she was to undergo treatment as well. It was for this reason that she involved herself so much in the day to day business of the trials. It was for this reason that she worked so hard to create as problem-free a drug as possible. The contract did its job, she thought with a smile as she returned to her office.

The PDA was locked inside a reinforced drawer, and she returned to emails and updating her records and daily report. The higher-ups had been pushing for progress lately, and she was happy to be able to provide it. Perhaps not entirely as fast as they wanted, but progress nonetheless. Today, she decided, she was going to put forth the somewhat bold suggestion that the first subject would make it through the 48-hour stress-test period of stimulation in five to six days.

The email was barely sent before she received a near-ecstatic response from the government controller of the project. Developing Aphrodax had been anything but cheap up until now, and the current administration did not have very long left of its term. They wanted results, too. For some unknown reason.

Later in the day, though, a much less cheerful mail ticked in. The controller, Peter, had talked with his own superiors, and they seemed to have taken the news that the first subject would be successful soon as an indication that the drug was far nearer completion than it was. They wanted Jacqueline to go through the trial herself in but a weeks time. She could feel cold anxiety tie into a lump in her chest, and then slowly drop down into her stomach as she read, and then re-read the mail. A week.