"I can't believe I'm doing this."
Emily could only think about how fucked up her situation was right now. And all because she thought that one of the hottest chicks in her senior year had wanted to bang. Emily wasn't an ugly girl, far from it in fact. What she was lacking was confidence as a closeted lesbian. Short in stature and kind of boyish in physique she tended to avoid a fair amount of attention from boys since, well, she didn't actually 'like' boys. So everyone started avoiding her. Thought to be a prissy bitch because she wouldn't put out like half of the other girls in school, rumors began to mill about and her list of friends dropped to basically nothing.
Then along came Brooke.
Brooke was the stereotype of stereotypes, tall for high school senior, luscious chestnut hair that flowed like a river down her back, a figure that models would probably kill for, oh, and she was also the cheerleading captain. Needless to say, Brooke was the focus of an immense number of masturbation sessions for boys and girls alike, Emily herself included.
So when Brooke started talking to Emily one day, it was a little confusing. They started hanging out and doing whatever, it was honestly some of the best times Emily had had in high school. Then Brooke started hinting at some interest, making some light-hearted comments here and there. Eventually Emily admitted to her that she was interested in girls.
Brooke surprised her when she said she already knew. Well, she suspected she did and it was one of the reasons she began to hang out with Emily. Because, you see, Brooke said she was interested in experimenting a bit, to see if she liked girls too. It too a little convincing but Emily eventually said she would help out with that, even though she herself had never been with someone else before.
Brooke had lead Emily by the hand up to the cheerleader's room one afternoon when her parents weren't home. And Brooke had started taking off Emily's clothes. It was like a dream come true. Emily was about to bang one of the hottest girls she had ever seen and it was going to be amazing.
And then, a couple of the cheerleaders came out of Brooke's closet and started snapping pictures of Emily as Brooke got out of the way with an evil grin on her face.
"W-what's going on!?" Emily cried as she tried to cover herself to no avail.
"Well, here's the thing dyke, I didn't totally lie to you. I knew you were a rug muncher and I hung out with you because of it. But why? Because I want you to do something for us, and if you don't... We tape a fuckton of these photos all over the school and start messaging them as well. Sound good?"
And so here she was, Emily was dressed up like a fucking hentai schoolgirl outside one of the strangely popular burger restaurants around the city, thankfully it was nowhere near where she lived so it wasn't too likely someone would notice her. You see, this was a very special place.
This was Futa Queen.
A very niche place that served anyone who wished to come along. You didn't have to pay dime if you didn't want to. Why though? Because the woman who owned the place was a goddamn trillionare and demanded sex as payment for the food her staff provided.
And all the staff, the owner included, were dickgirls. Women who were born with both sex organs and really, really liked to use the male side of things apparently.
You see, long story short, Brooke and her friends had wanted to try out the food here. Apparently it was really good. But her and her cohort weren't really interested in taking a girl's big cock for it. They had made a fuss and were banned from Futa Queen for it, harassing staff members and the like.
So Emily's job was simple (at least in Brooke's fucking cruel eyes): Go in, order her and her friends the most gargantuan meals that were offered (remember, it's the number nine combo she'd said) get fucked, literally for it, and bring it back to them. Super easy according to Brooke since 'You like girls anyways, what's a little bit of cock gonna mean to you?'
So here Emily was, walking into what was literally a sex food shop... thing, whatever, and about to get fucked.
"Miss?"
Emily jolted from her thoughts when she realized she was the only person at the order counter, "Yes?" she asked timidly. She stared at the girl whose nametag read 'Melanie'.
"I need to see your ID before you order Miss. No minors allowed, I just have to make sure." The beautiful woman, (dickgirl?) behind the counter asked. Holding out her driver's license she waited, not able to take her eyes off the beauty until the woman smiled and passed it back, "Alright then, now, what can I get for you today, Hun?" the woman said in a flirty voice.
"U-um, the n-number nine combo. Three of them please. A-and super-sized please." Emily cringed a bit as she stuttered out the order. And the look the woman was giving her was unreadable all of the sudden.
"Three of them, Miss?" she asked quietly.
"Y-yes?"
"Hun, what's your name?"
Weird question, "Um, Emily."
"Do you even know what a Number Nine combo is?" she asked kind of bluntly.
"N-not really, a, um... friend asked me to pick some up for us a little later. That's all."
"... I see. Well, to get a Number Nine you need to speak with the Boss first, alright?" She said gently.
"W-why? What's so special about it?" Emily was dreading that she had made horrible mistake.
"Don't worry, Hun, you're not in trouble. It's just a special order and is handled by the Boss personally." Melanie pressed some hidden button underneath the counter before pointing off to the side, "Her office is down the hall. You take the stairs at the end up and it the door at the end of the hall."
"T-thanks." She said as she headed off, not noticing the slightly concerned gaze being sent her way.
"No problem." Melanie whispered to herself.
***