A Change in Perspective (Commission, Futa/Female, Tentacles, Human-Cock, Underage)

Story by Tosaku No Kishi

An anonymous commission that kind of got away from me.

This features Stacy, a plain woman with a sister that wants nothing to do with her. But that's fine, she's in line for a promotion and she's finally going to confess to the woman she's been crushing on. What's the worst that could happen?

Stacy’s alarm clattered against wood, yanking her from sleep. She groaned and rolled over, floundering for her phone, then yelped as she fell from her couch. Rubbing her head, she silenced the irritating noise and got back to her feet. Her bones creaked, joints popping after a few hours of rest.

“Ugh, six hours is not enough,” Stacy said under her breath as she checked on her sister. The younger Cine girl was already up, dressed in her uniform, showered and packed.

“Hey,” Veronica mumbled, rummaging through her bag in case she missed something.

“Hey, did you sleep alright?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Good, good… everything set for school?” Stacy asked, glancing around the barren room. Her sister didn’t stay with her for long, spending the week at a boarding school a hundred miles away. She only came back for the weekend. Not out of want, but necessity. Any chance she got to stay with friends, she took.

“Yep.”

“Clothes? Phone? Laptop?”

“Yes, I’ve got everything, Stacy,” Veronica grumbled.

“Okay, I’ll go then,” Stacy said but lingered in the doorway, “So, hey, next week that band you like is playing nearby.”

“I know. I’m going with Jess and Zoey.”

“Oh. I thought we could see it together. You know, as sisters?”

“You don’t even like them.”

“No, but…”

“Then what’s the point?” Veronica said and got up, just as someone knocked on their apartment door.

“Nica! You in there?” Nica, that’s what her friends called her. Even the teachers used Veronica’s nickname. Everyone did, it seemed. Except Stacy.

“Coming! I’m staying round Jess’s this weekend, so don’t worry about me. Bye.” Moments later and all that showed of Veronica’s time in Stacy’s apartment was the faint whiff of her perfume. Strawberries and kiwi, just like their mother used. Stacy sighed and ran a hand through her black mane. No use hovering around there. She had work in two hours.

Shower, breakfast and TV. Her usual routine faded into the back of her mind. Eggs on toast, Good Morning America and the familiar scent of rosemary in her hair all let her mind wander to the future. Without her sister for the weekend, she could go out with friends, maybe meet a girl and… who was she kidding? Not herself. Stacy had friends, but none that cared to go out anymore than she did. Perhaps another time.

She arrived at work on time, as always, and settled into her spacious cubicle. After three years of excellent service, she expected a promotion to be in reach, one that came with an office she hoped. Guiding customers through investments was tough enough in quiet, but dealing with the clamour of dozens in the same situation proved taxing. Stacy enjoyed the noise, though. People on break would shout above it and give her some gossip to share. Such as Mike’s ‘little friend’.

And she sat across from Karen. Though in her late twenties, Stacy had an irrefutable crush on the woman, five years her junior at twenty-one. Her friends had pointed it out too often to deny. When they talked about men, or women for herself, Karen came up without fail. How couldn’t she? Killer legs and tits, a face still wreathed with youth and the nicest smile. The fact she knew her stuff just sealed the package for Stacy.

She’d spent too many nights fantasising about her. Yet she never found the courage to broach the subject. Too much could go wrong. She might taint their current relationship. Worse, Karen might reciprocate and they’d go too far to stop, then everything would go sour and… the ringing of her desk phone broke her thoughts. It was her boss.

Minutes later and she stood in his office. Outside, she looked out at the neighbouring buildings, their windows opaque from the reflected sunlight. Mr. Capone sat behind his massive desk in a chair too large, even for the portly man.

“Regarding that promotion,” he said, pausing to clean his glasses.

“Yes, sir?” Stacy prompted, as he clearly wanted her to. Her heart leapt in her chest. Mr. Capone wasn’t a sadist like some bosses, he wouldn’t string her along like this.

“Nothing is quite finalised yet, but it’s a safe bet that you’ll get it. In fact,” he opened a drawer and produced a plaque with her name on it, “I’ve already got that office down the hall set up for you.” Stacy took the plaque, inscribed with her name, and marvelled at it. The position came with a substantial pay rise, enough to move into a far nicer apartment and treat hersel

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