Futa Explosion: Four Hot Futa Stories

by Lyka Bloom

  Kat had cried with her and cursed Trevor and all the things a good friend does, but it had been her suggestion to fight fire with fire that woke something in Shelby. The very next day she had marched into the athletic director's office and asked how she could join the cheer squad for their school. Being a small regional arts college, Shelby found the process surprisingly simple. She was brought before the cheer captain and the female instructor who sponsored the school's cheer squad where she was made to do a handful of moves, from somersaults to splits, which Shelby easily managed.

  The one aspect of her recruitment that made the day somehow less than perfect were the stares of the other girls on the squad who had gathered to watch. Shelby felt their stares and the familiarity of them, the narrow-eyed judgment that came with her daring to set foot into their world. Just like high school, Shelby recognized, the cliques that form and become fiercely territorial.

  She felt apart from them from the first day, and that continued through the first weeks of her trial membership. She attended practices, changed with the other girls, but there was no sense of community, at least not one that extended to her. The cruelty of the other cheerleaders took the shape of quiet politeness when the girls would speak to her. Short, crisp sentences that refuted further conversation. It made Shelby feel terribly alone, even in the midst of the other girls on the squad.

  She shared classes with three of the girls in the tight-knit circle of cheerleaders, two on the same day with Tricia, the alpha of the squad if ever there was one. With enviably long and slender legs, a flat belly and a healthy bust, Tricia's blonde mane bounced with the rest of her whens he moved down the hallways, drawing stares of lust from the boys and jealous glances from the girls. She wore a perpetual smile, as if she understood better than anyone how her genetic lottery had given her such distinct advantages over the plainer girls of the world like Shelby.

  She'd been in the squad for almost six weeks when the first of the weirdness began. It started with Miss Fischer, the woman who served as adviser for the cheer squad. She had gone away on some weekend retreat in the mountains or something and, from the first Monday back, she seemed... off. Fischer, whose first name was Debbie, was a pretty woman for a middle-aged history professor, enjoying long and flowing skirts and flat sandals, maybe the occasional secretary's skirt if she were feeling particularly flirty, but generally seen as a kind and friendly woman, if a bit shy.

  The Debbie Fischer that greeted the cheer team on that first practice upon her return was an entirely different person. She looked the same (well, mostly), but there was a glint in her eye. For years, Shelby had heard that expression and never realized it could be a thing, but there was some light in Miss Fischer's eyes, a knowing look that said she understood something no one else did, and that secret knowledge pleased her. Besides the more playful attitude she displayed, occasionally bordering on the lewd, there was the matter of Fischer's wardrobe. Gone were the billowy skirts, replaced by something dark and tight and noticeably higher-hemmed than Fischer's previous wardrobe. With much of her bare legs showing, Shelby appreciated how good she looked, and matched with the less-clingy blouse, she looked semi-professional, if sexy.

  She paced the practice, twirling a whistle around her finger, making short strides on very high dark patent heels. She watched the girls with an uncomfortable intensity. When Shelby was bending down, forming part of the base of the human pyramid they had formed, she was sure she felt Fischer's hand follow the curve of her uniform-clad ass, a gesture that lingered to long to be mere accident.

  "You girls make me proud," she said as the practice waned. "All of you working so hard to be so perfect and toned. Little dolls for the men to get dazed by. They don't appreciate all you have to offer, but they will, girls, they will."

  She paused for a long minute, looking into each girl's eyes, weighing them in her stare.

  "Tricia, I need to see you for a moment in my office."

  "Yes, Miss Fischer," Tricia chirped back at the sensual instructor and the rest of the practice ended normally.

  Shelby watched the attractive blonde linger as her usual gaggle of cheerleaders shuffled to the locker room. She watched as Tricia disappeared into the office of the adviser, the pebbled glass lining the office allowing only a glimpse of silhouettes. Even with that handicapped vision, Shelby could see how close Fischer was to Tricia, more like lovers than an instructor and her student. With a shrug, Shelby followed the others into the locker room to change, but she couldn't shake the creeping drear that came along with the otherwise-hilarious news that Tricia might be gay. It would make her more interesting, Shelby decided.

  She saw Tricia again the next day, the two of them in the science building next to the common center. Shelby ducked into the women's room for a quick check of her makeup after trotting across campus in weather that could charitably be described as disgustingly humid when she saw her teammate. Tricia was standing before the mirror, her hands gripping the sides of the sink, staring intently at herself. Her hair, while still gorgeous, was wilder, the normally carefully-styled hair loose on her shoulders. She ran her tongue over her lips, which were full and pouty and left open and glistening after the languorous lick. Her head turned slightly when she saw Shelby behind her, pausing to watch Tricia in the mirror.

  "Shelby," she said, her tongue curling around the name in a way both diminishing and spectacularly erotic. "Going to be at practice tomorrow?"

  "Yeah," Shelby said with a smile she hoped would look natural and easy when it was all she could do to keep it plastered on her face. "Of course."

  Tricia nodded and returned her gaze to the mirror. "Good," she repeated.

  It was after she exited the bathroom in a hurry that Shelby realized Tricia had been dressed like she was heading for the club instead of class. She had chosen a very tight-fitting top in a salmon color, short sleeved and Shelby could have sworn she saw the shape of her hard nipples beneath. The skirts he wore was suede, falling to mid-thigh, but it could not hide the pronounced curve of Tricia's voluptuous ass. Like the blooms of light after a flash goes off, the image of Tricia in front of the mirror lingered with Shelby, long after Tricia made her appearance in the classroom, where she sat among her more attractive friends.

  Occasionally, she would look back at Shelby, and the smaller girl saw that same look of knowing amusement in Tricia's eyes she had seen in Miss Fischer's. It was as if Fischer had imparted some deliciously evil and naughty tidbit to Tricia, who was poised to tell others. Even as she thought it, Shelby shoved the thought away as ridiculous. Being sexy was not contagious. But even Tricia's usual companions were looking at their friend askance, as if they too recognized that something had changed, even if it wasn't immediately obvious.

  The next day was Shelby's less cheerleader-infested days, with most of her classes taking her to the Humanities building where few of the other cheerleaders dared. Still, she caught sight of Tricia again that morning before her classes began, wearing a very thin white long-sleeved top that highlighted the round shape and enhanced size of her chest. If Shelby didn't know her better, she would have said Tricia got a very aggressive boob job to intentionally make her breasts more like taut globes on her chest. With those on display and a brief navy skirt wrapped around her waist, resting atop tall white heels, she looked almost statuesque. More disturbing, there were two of her friends gathered around her, a tight circle of the three of them. Madeline, with her deeply tan Mediterranean skin and Christy, who boasted light red hair that looked blonde under the light. They, too, had that same hungry look and, while not as physically changed as Tricia, they had chosen clothing that showed off their skin more, and Shelby was sure they were heavier up top, too. Whens he passed, she caught Madeline's eyes, and the tan-skinned beauty dropped a lascivious wink with a flick of her tongue over her lips. It chilled her, and Shelby hurried past them to her class.

  All day, she dreaded the time cheerleading practice rolled around, and when she was back in that cool gray tunn
el with its reek of sweat and old soda, she shouldered her bag and felt its weight even more intensely. Her shoes squeaked on the hall floor, and she could hear the distant clatter of the boys crashing into one another on the field as they ran their drills. The urge to abandon this ridiculous exercise in proving to herself... what? That she was pretty? That she could be the Homecoming queen, too? Whatever it was, it had been supplanted by a low-burning fear and a deeper curiosity. She had to know what was happening, even if every good instinct told her that what was happening was bad. Maybe very bad.

  She entered the locker room, noting that the three girls she suspected as being touched by something, that indistinct 'badness,' were not there. There were a dozen of them, though, and Shelby was certain she saw signs of that wild aura around Kelly and Deanna, who were huddled together as they changed, allowing the rest to go about their business as they stood in their cheer skirts but were otherwise topless. It wasn't unusual to see a bare breast in the locker room, but it was definitely odd for these girls to be so brazen about it.

  She was made more uncomfortable by the fact that the girls seemed to be looking at her, watching her as she quickly changed. Now that she was in the locker room, ignoring the occasional metallic bangs! as doors were slammed shut and girls emptied onto the gym floor, her bravado faded. She wanted to leave, but instead followed the train of normal girls into practice. At least, Shelby mused, there was safety in a group.

  When she and the others marched into the gymnasium, Shelby was immediately struck by the odor. Not bad, but something wavering amid the usual smells of sweat and age. This was musky and earthy and she found that it clung to her nostrils when she breathed, making her mouth taste of it, too. She found Miss Fischer huddled with Tricia, Christy and Madeline, the four of them whispering to one another and looking at the girls as they filed in. The fact that they were all smiling in that dark way did nothing to calm her, but Shelby took her place at the edge of the basketball court's lines, awaiting the beginning of practice. There was a titter, low conversations that Shelby caught at the edges where the others were expressing the same concerns about their teammates.

  Once all the girls had fallen into place and Kelly and Deanna filed in, joining the quartet of odd women at the center of the court, and a peculiar hush settled over the gymnasium as Fischer moved forward, addressing the cheerleaders kneeling on the line. The half dozen women who had developed their odd stares stood before the assembled cheerleaders, Tricia with an arm draped around Madeline's waist in an unusually familiar way.

  "Girls," Fischer said, smiling in a way that did not meet her eyes, "we have done a lot of work on our routines lately, but what we have failed to acknowledge is one of the basics. Trust. It is the fundamental building block of teamwork, and I feel like some of us-" she paused, scanning the kneeling cheerleaders with her eyes, "-have not lived up to their end of the trust bargain required of us. So, today we are going to do something unusual. We are going to spend some time together without routines or cheers. I have a list of the people I would like paired together. Christy will have your assignments and I will be joining each of our pairs for a moment to make sure you are not wasting our time. Understand, ladies?"

  There was a general murmur of agreement, and then the cheerleaders were rising, filing into a line before Christy while the other five women watched as each cheerleader received her assignment. Shelby followed the wave of bodies, hurriedly doing the mental math that told her that there were only five of the 'strange' girls, and would not be able to pair in a one-to-one basis. She was seventh in line, so assumed she would be with one of the normal girls, and she was already promising herself that the curiosity she was feeling was not worth the accompanying paranoia and dread. And then she was standing before Christy, her skin looking darker, like she had been tanning since Shelby last saw her.

  "Shelby," Christy announced with a grin. "You'll be with Tricia."

  "What?" she said, surprised and unable to hide it.

  "Just follow her. I'm sure you'll find something to talk about."

  Shelby stood still until Christy took her by the arm, pulling her gently out of the line and ushering her toward Tricia, who waited with a leering gaze, her arms folded beneath her formidable chest. Shelby shuffled toward her, the lumpy feeling of fear in her stomach alight, growing until she was nearly trembling. Should she run? Make a fool of herself by running in terror from the cheerleader in the middle of a sunlit gymnasium?

  The look of bemusement on Tricia's face warped into something less benign, a hungry look that made Shelby feel like one of those butterflies pinned in a glass case. She pushed herself from the casual lean against the wall and moved toward Shelby, slipping her arm in the shorter girl's arm, as if they were dates on their way to a dance. Except Shelby could feel the wrongness of Tricia coming off of her, a heat and an odor that was not unpleasant, but was difficult to place. Tricia was leading them across the gym floor back to the locker room.

  "Are we changing? Maybe going for dessert?" Shelby asked, assuming a mask of normalcy.

  "Something like that," Tricia replied enigmatically. " Trust me, you are going to love it."

  Shelby cast a look behind her, seeing some of the others being led away into the far corners of the building by the suspicious girls, but then the locker room door was opening and Shelby was isolated from the rest of the world, left alone with Tricia is the gray gloom of the locker room.

  "You know, I think maybe cheerleading isn't for me," Shelby said. "I think you and Madeline and Deanna are way better than me. It's been fun, but-"

  "No, no, no," Tricia said, spinning Shelby to face her. "You are part of the team, Shelby. And it's my fault you haven't felt like part of the squad, Shelby. I haven't been very welcoming, have I?"

  She had released Shelby's arm, but the way she continued to press closer made Shelby back up a step, which only prompted Tricia to follow until Shelby heard the hollow metal rattle of a locker bang against her back. It was strange to feel so claustrophobic in the cavernous locker room, the distant drip of water on tile punctuating the silence as Tricia closed in on Shelby.

  "What are you doing?"

  Tricia's haunting smile widened, her eyes fixed on Shelby. Despite the intense fear that was growing in Shelby, she felt another sensation, too. She felt her pussy growing wet. She wondered absently if this was the female equivalent of wheat boys called a 'fear boner,' then tossed the thought away as Tricia gripped her by the shoulders. There was no question of her beauty, even in this altered and somehow wild state. No matter that Shelby had never been with a girl, or that Tricia, in particular, would not have been the kind of girl that she would have normally found attractive, but this nearness to her was pushing away all reason.

  "I want you to be one of us, Shelby. I can't tell you how wonderful it feels."

  "One of you? A cheerleader?"

  Tricia laughed, a low sound that ended with her pressing her lips roughly to Shelby's mouth, her tongue pushing past Shelby's lips and invading her mouth. There was something sweet in her saliva, and Shelby felt her arms lifting to touch Tricia's arms, not to push her away, but to feel her bare skin, warm under Shelby's fingertips.

  Tricia's hand found Shelby's breast, cupping it beneath the cheer uniform's top, the coarse fabric of the uniform's vest scratching against Shelby's skin as Tricia's adventurous hand kneaded her, pinched her nipple until it was hard. Shelby was returning the kiss, now, as exuberant as was Tricia, and she couldn't be bothered to worry if someone should come in and discover them like this. She only knew she wanted more, twisting her head to kiss Tricia more deeply, back arching against her hand.

  "That's it," Tricia whispered as the kiss broke, a brief respite before Shelby buried her face against Tricia's neck, kissing the tender flesh, inhaling and holding in the scent of the cheerleader's hair. Shelby allowed her hands to fall to Tricia's ass, reaching beneath the flared skirt to grip the girl's firm bottom. At the touch of her hot skin, Shelby moaned, her body writhing
against the taller girl's.

  With Tricia's hands resting on Shelby's shoulders, she eased the smaller girl down, her hands pausing to feel the round globes of Tricia's chest, licking through the material of her top to worship Tricia's massive chest. When she reached her knees, Shelby looked up into Tricia's eyes, which seemed to flair with an odd purple hue.

  "I have something for you," Tricia grinned. "Do you want it?"

  Delirious from Tricia's advances and that unknown something that kept her thoughts addled and focused only on feeling more of Tricia's body, Shelby nodded emphatically. "Yes, please yes!" she cried.

  "You're going to love this."

  Tricia slowly unbuttoned the skirt and let it drop, bending to slide down her dark, high-cut panties along with the attached shorts of the uniform. Shelby had time to think, 'Well, this is it. I'm about to go down on another girl,' when she found herself face-to-face with the trimmed mound leading to Tricia's cleft. The smell she detected before was more intense, and she realized now that the scent that was driving her so mad originated here, between Tricia's legs. She was eager to lean into Tricia, to place a gentle kiss on Tricia's folds.

  "Very good," Tricia moaned at the first contact, balling her fists into Shelby's hair. And thens he giggled, but nothing so innocent as the titter of a cheerleader. This was a black sound, the utterance of someone who knows that they have a secret and it is near time to reveal it.

  Shelby barely considered the sound, her hands wrapped around the back of Tricia's thighs as her mouth moved to lap at the slit before her, her tongue following the curling folds as her eyes dimmed, her whole world focused on the taste that was flooding her mouth. She pressed her pink muscle a little further, opening Tricia's petals and curling her tongue to collect the juices that flowed freely from this ripe flesh. Her tongue slid inches into Tricia's canal, the coppery and sweet taste of the larger girl's natural lubricant urging Shelby onward, her tongue retracting to attend Tricia's clit.