RedSeeds Stories From The "Write A Story For The Picture" thread

Story by RedSeeds

So, in an effort to draw some attention to The Futanari Palace Write a Story for the Picture Event Thread, I decided to share my stories yet again but in their own thread, which I will likely update if I remember to with future efforts. This is not just to remind people to give it a look, but also here to show that anybody can write a story if they put their mind to it, even this idiot! XD

Whitney was bored. She had always been a fan of the Indiana Jones films, and had insisted, despite protests from her father, that she be allowed to come to his latest dig site. She had managed to use the fact that he had missed her eighteenth birthday party to convince him to take her along, and even managed to get a shopping trip to Tokyo planned for afterwards! From what little bits and pieces he had shared at the dinner table in the few weeks this year he had been back, the place sounded like a budding adventurer’s dreamscape. However, that fantasy of ancient artefacts and hidden treasures from lost civilizations did little to help the teenaged girl cope with the mundanity of an actual archaeological site.

The young girl was a little bit of a princess, perhaps in part due to the fact that her father was away so often, and treated her like royalty when he returned to her and his wife. Whitney’s parents also weren’t hard up for cash, and their advanced age meant it was easier for her to pester them for trinkets and ‘pocket money’ for all the things she wanted. Naturally, even she got bored of this money on tap, and soon began to look for other things to occupy her time. This is why she was currently sat under a makeshift sun shade in the middle of nowhere, on one of the many islands of Japan.

She was quite obviously the odd one out. While everybody else, her father included, were all willing to be out in the harsh summer sun to brush at dust and marvel at chips of bone, she had opted to hang around the tents and shades, occasionally cleaning something around the camp if it looked like it needed it. She was doing the bare minimum, but as the daughter of the professor in charge of the dig it was hard for anybody to ask for more from her. She was thoroughly uninterested in the supposed breakthroughs everybody else here was getting their panties in a twist over, believing it all to be trivial figures and statistics the eggheads were manufacturing in order to stop themselves going insane.

Easily the worst thing about this trip was all the attention she was getting. Her father’s students couldn’t help but steal glances at her toned body, or the small but lovely breasts that she was proud enough of to wear very little to cover them. She was built like a dancer, and with the heat and relative lack of women in the isolated area, she was coveted more than any discovery might have been by some. It would have been very easy for Whitney to dress herself so as to detract from her appearance, but she was beginning to enjoy teasing and playing tricks with the more forward jerks. She had managed to trick two guys to meet in the dark, each believing they were meeting her. She had beckoned boys to her tent, only to have them help her set up her mosquito net or something. And still more idiots lined up to talk to her, not learning that she wasn’t interested. It was kind of sad.

Whitney had been sat outside her tent on the night it happened. She was actually waiting for one of her suckers to arrive, and she intended to have him investigate a noise in the nearby forest. Today had been a particularly dull day, with everybody getting excited about discovering something about a mythical creature in the area. Apparently, the references predated those initially considered the origin of such myths, which seemed kind of stupid to Whitney. Who cared if some forest god or something that wasn’t real wasn’t really from somewhere else? She sighed, and began to toss stones into the brush.

It was getting late when she decided it was time to give up. It looked like her ‘date’ had caught wise to her tricks, and decided to ditch her. Funnily enough, that actually stung the blond girl a bit, but she shrugged it off as she began to slip off her boots and retire to her tent. She had gotten one of the clunky, unwieldy shoes off when she saw something off in the distance that captivated her. A small cluster of dancing lights, each a slightly different colour, darted about near the edge of the forest, maybe fifty foot from her current position. The variety of colours led her to disregard the possibili

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