Whatever Lua wants, Lua Gets (Transformation, Teens, futanarization, body growth)

Here’s a story, after what must seem like a long hiatus. To be honest I’ve been doing other things beyond writing hermaphrodite fiction, but that’s something else entirely.

While many of my stories have some sort of greater purpose or meaning behind them, this one is noticeably lacking. I hesitate to call it a story, it’s more or less just a mish mash of various fetishes that I enjoy being strung along as long as it holds my attention. I suppose a PWP disclaimer is accurate. As always, thanks to Crudebuster for proofing it and being patient enough to put up with me.

Speaking of fetishes, the story contains the following

Teen/teen, futa/woman, futa/futa, lesbian, transformation, breast/penis growth, lactation, bondage, oral, anal, and feeble attempts at humor.

Transformation is key in this one, if you’re not fond of it I don’t know that you would find the story to be especially interesting.

What do you get when you combine a prodigy, limitless wealth, black market biotech and a submissive Taiwanese lover?

The answer: Best birthday ever

I guess most “normal” girls would have had a rather bland or boring birthday party. Cake, music, and presents, the standard cliché. Maybe some friends over, if her parents’ were irresponsible, such as mine, there would be some pretty boys to come over. Still, at best, a disappointing gropefest in the closet, spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. Maybe if her parents’ were especially wealthy, such as mine, then they might gain a bottle of wine, or perhaps some other party favors.

But that would hardly fit a girl with an IQ that can only be estimated at around three hundred and two. And that’s using an antiquated system which, at best, is only suitable for reminding my duller counterparts where second place begins, and a rough estimate of the depth of the gap between us.

"Okay Lua, are you ready?" I asked. It was more bedside manner than anything. I watched with no small manner of delight as the young girl writhed on the table, pinioned by the stirrups and arm binders. Not that this was the first time I've had this girl bound up in this manner. No, in fact I'd say she rather enjoyed being bound more so than I enjoy binding her, the way she lustily licks her lips, taught body all aquiver, waiting for me to deliver my surprise.

“What’s taking so long?” she asked, rolling her eyes. It never ceases to amaze me, really. Most girls so bound up would be struggling vainly against the bonds, slamming against them with all their worth, perhaps an Olive Oil and Popeye comparison would be apt. Lua’s small frame was certainly comparable.

On any normal day a long session of lovemaking, usually followed up by a large dinner, would be in order. Something Italian, French perhaps, carby but not too greasy, we can’t be ten years old forever. But today, no, today is my birthday.