Life of a Dominant Futanari Chapter 2: Tracy
Guilt and excitement ran through my veins to the top of my head all day. My virginity was given to Jake, but I couldn't care less. I completely fantasized about his tight asshole. I loved it. I loved his tears as he cried. I loved the dominant feeling I got from taking him forcefully. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I felt liberated.
The only evidence of the deed was on my phone. I desperately wanted to take it home and watch it. In between classes, I hauled my backpack with all my weights and books to each class. I stopped in front of a bathroom. I stopped each time, and I felt like I wanted to enter the bathroom to watch it. Instead, I walked towards the next class.
This feeling was incredible. I never felt like this, and I wondered if this was what feeling high was like. No one around me paid attention to me except some of the jocks. They whispered under their breath, but I couldn't care less. I would do the same to them as I did Jake if they decided to become a problem to me. I felt invincible, and I knew that I had to calm myself down.
I forcefully stopped myself from fantasizing about Jake in class as well. My cock hardening would rightfully earn me some ridicule. Men got that too, and so it would be fitting if I got caught too on it. I was a true equalist, and I wished everyone else was.
The last class was a gym class, my favorite class throughout school. I needed to work off my extra energy I felt right now. I went back to my crime scene, and I felt my cock stiffen as I entered. You could smell the sperm lightly in the air, but other than that, it was all cleaned up. I smiled as I changed and struggled a bit with my cock before I was ready for the gym.
I join the rest of the Female class. I sighed as I saw all of the girls in various states of stretches. I stepped up to our gym teacher, and he looked at me as I approached. "Excuse me, Mr. Trimmers," I said as I approached.
"Yes?" Mr. Trimmers said.
"Hi, I am Angela. I am a Futanari or hermaphrodite. I don't strictly follow either gender, Mr. Timmers." He nodded, his eyes wide in surprise. "Sorry, For being straightforward, but I was wondering what we are doing today? I work at a higher physical peak than others in this school and would like to increase the difficulty myself whenever possible." I explained.
Mr. Trimmers stroked his beard as he contemplated the problem, "We are doing just some running so I can see where you ladies are in physical condition." He replied, "Something simple like that is it today. As for tomorrow, that can be a surprise," He said with a smile.
My frown, though, spoke volumes to him, "That is too low for me, Mr. Trimmers. It frankly is useless for me just to run. My body would lose muscle mass if I did that routine." I commented to his growing surprise. "For today to show you my baseline, I will put on the weights that I used this morning for my run," I said started to turn when he put a hand on my shoulder.
"Miss. Angela, Please let's discuss before you go off. What is your morning routine?" He asked.
I shrugged, "I have gotten really good. I put Fourty pounds on each foot and arm. Then I put some weights in my backpack; It's a sturdy backpack, by the way. But altogether, the backpack is about fifty pounds. So in total, It's two hundred and ten pounds; A little over that with textbooks. It's a good run, and I really enjoy it. Still a little challenging, but the weight distributed around my body makes it a lot simpler." I finished. I was proud of my capacity and loved weight lifting. I wanted ripped muscles like those muscular women in weightlifting competitions. I was woefully away from that.
Mr. Trimmers, on the other hand, was frozen in surprise before he said, "Bullshit. Absolute Bullshit. Prove it!" He commanded me.
Something in me screamed to punch him for saying that to me. But it was a reaction I was used to hearing when I spoke about my strength. I walked over to the Teachers locker room, and I pulled out my backpack and walked back to Mr. Trimmers, who looked angry that I was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.
I one-handedly placed the backpack in front of him without a problem. I stared into his eyes as he looked at me. He looked at me solidly before he went to pick up the backpack himself. "I don't recommend trying to lift that improperly," I warned as he continued to grab my overly stuffed backpack. I even physically stopped him to stop him from hurting himself. "I am serious. I don't want you to hurt yourself." I said with utter honesty.
He stopped finally with my second warning and stood straight. He took a proper lifting position taking me seriously now, and lifted the backpack with wide eyes. He looked at me, astonished. "What the Fuck!?" He yelled, pulling the attention of the stretching girls behind me.
"I told you. That is my morning routine, Mr. Trimmers. I do two kilometers with it and school. I carry them all in my backpack. I love working out, and I feel soon I can add another fifty pounds to the routine. The problem is I am starting to run out of places to put the weights." I said. His surprise was total, as I could tell he didn't want to believe me.
I opened my backpack, moved past the textbooks, and took out the softer weights for my arms and legs--each with twenty lbs printed on it. I placed two on each leg and two on each arm. The familiar weight settled on me, and I picked up my backpack and turned to Mr. Trimmers with a smile. "Okay, I am ready for a light run. How long do you want me to run for? An hour of running seems like a good start to working out." I finished knowing that he would be surprised.
The Gym I went to over summer break didn't believe me until I made everyone submit to my impressive muscles. I desperately want to show more muscle so I could kiss my muscles. My Biceps deserve some love from my lips. The flab that I could never seem to get rid of refused to leave, though.
