Part I: He attracts the wrong type of women
* * * * *
[Characters are above the age of 18]
Story contains futa on male, nonconsent and femboys with big butts. If you don't like the idea, please refrain from reading
* * * * *
Willow looked at himself in the mirror. Long, chestnut-colored hair that had been tied into a ponytail. Pouty lips, long lashes, and cerulean eyes. A short frame that was no taller than the average woman. But most importantly was his hips that flared out wider than his own shoulders and his doughy ass that made men drool and women green with envy. A twinge of pain flashed past his chest as he remembered how some of these men tried to hit on him, thinking he was just another bimbo with a fat ass they could fuck. He would tell them he was a guy but some of them were still willing to fuck after a quick scan of his effeminate features.
That did nothing for his confidence.
He stood on his side, sucking in his stomach as if that would do anything to his larger-than-average butt. Sighing in defeat, Willow accepted that there was nothing he could do to look anything more than an effeminate little bitch.
Make no mistake, he tried his best and trusted the process as a gym rat friend of his told him when he was doing multiple squats and deadlifts. His fingers trailed over his taut stomach, feeling how smooth his pale white skin was, and saw how it contrasted deeply with the pinkness of his virgin nipples.
As he stared down, he saw the reason he had somewhat given up on being a muscular chad of a man. What sprouted from between his legs was nothing more than a sad excuse for a penis, reaching just above 4 inches when erect and nearly microscopic when limp. After hearing tales of how women moaned for some of his muscular male friends, he knew that he would never get the chance to live their lives.
One of his friends had even joked that he should turn gay, and maybe then, he'd actually get a couple of offers - wiggling his eyebrows at Willow's large rump.
They always liked to tease him, slapping him on the butt here and there but stopped after he'd learned self-defense. Of course, his butt only seemed to get larger after middle school until now.
'Go Eagles!'
He cheered in his mind, a doctrine many of the students were forced to listen to every single morning. He brushed his teeth and glanced at the time.
8:50 am.
Luckily, today was a weekend, so he was able to get some of his much-needed sleep after a bazillion homework left by his very eccentric teachers.
"Seriously, the school needs a row of replacements," Willow said, spitting out a gob of toothpaste. "Especially Mrs. Smith, someone needs to tell her that being married isn't a personality trait. Or, targeting young couples."
As he got out of the bathroom, he studied his room. It wasn't too big or too small, a perfect, little snug room that belonged to no one else but him. His walls had been painted white and covered with inspirational quotes and flashing led lights that hung high across his room. A smart chair sat in front of his workspace - an average-sized table that supported the weight of his laptop and shelves of books that he promised he would read one day.
In the middle of his room was an extensive, bouncy-looking bed - a hand me down from his parents that was a little too big for just him alone. His floor had been covered in a fluffy, ivory mattress that had been dutifully vacuumed and cleaned by him. A black wardrobe stood beside his bed, taking up an entire wall by itself as it looked like it held the contents of the universe inside - one of his younger sister's many envies.
"Samantha...," Willow didn't like how his little sister's name felt on his tongue. Unlike his mother and father, who dearly loved him, his sister was a major exception and always made sure to remind him of that. There wasn't a time he could remember where his little sister didn't act like a six-year-old and annoy him to death.
One time, she had cut holes into his pants as he almost walked out of his home and revealed his nude bottom to the rest of the world. Another time she acted like the insufferable brat she was. And when she ate his yogurt, instead of giving him an apology, she insulted him, saying that she did it so that he might actually lose some weight.
He shook his head. Nothing good came out of thinking about his little sister and why she did what she did. Willow dressed in a comfortable, oversized grey sweater that was big enough to hide his black shorts that stretched over his hips. He was about to walk downstairs to grab his breakfast when his phone beeped on his table.
He unplugged the charger - yes, he liked to charge overnight - before he checked his phone. A curse immediately left his lips as he checked the calendar notification.
'September 30th. Samantha's friends come over. Parents out for an anniversary.'
His interactions with Samantha and her friends were very limited. He always holed himself up in his room whenever they came for a sleepover. Only a couple of times did he, unfortunately, meet them when he came out to refill his flask of water or to make dinner/snacks as Samantha had forced him to, threatening to spill one of his secrets if he didn't.
Samantha's three friends were very beautiful, not to mention a lot taller than him or Samantha. Which was a surprise as she stood at around 5'7'' despite being younger than him and had enough strength to wrestle a boy. Another reason he listened to her.
The few times he managed to meet her friends, they never failed to make him feel either humiliated or objectified as he could clearly hear them giggle when their eyes laid on his butt or his face. They seem to still have a problem believing that he was a boy. Once he could hear the hushed gasp of shock one of the girls had when his sister told them that he was a boy.
Since then, they always made it their job to tease him, locking him between their strong arms or forcing him between their bountiful chests--which was easy as his full height only ever measured to their shoulder-- or their recent obsession with fondling-slapping-molding his large behind.
From how they acted, you'd think they were perverted old men. Every time they went back home, they never failed to leave him with a boner and a blush on his face. They were bullies, is what they were.
The only reason he didn't practice his self-defense on them was that he could tell they were abnormally strong for women. They were definitely stronger than most of his guy friends, something he could tell from how hard it was to get out their chokeholds.
He shook his head. This time he was ready. It wouldn't go their way again. Willow had crafted a foolproof plan to deal with these harassing friends of his sister's.
Willow closed his phone and headed downstairs for breakfast, thinking to himself that nothing would go wrong this afternoon at all.
* * * * *
Samantha absolutely hated her older brother. Ever since they were young, he had always taken everything she liked. And it annoyed her further that he seemed to have done it unconsciously. From the hello-kitty bag she loved to her boyfriends, he stole everything that was hers and always acted like a moral compass - something she absolutely hated about him.
Now, Samantha wasn't ugly or anything. In fact, she was a very pretty young woman with long, blond hair and blue eyes- appearing as if the female version of her father. She was somewhat tall for a woman, standing at 5'7, and looked as if one of Victoria's Secret's skinny-fit models. Her body was toned and fairly athletic from all the long hours spent on the court, doing suicides and cardio-oriented drills that always left her gasping for air.
But none of that mattered as most of the boys she brought home -- usually tall jocks with broad shoulders-- always seemed to question about the curvy girl that ran around the house. She always got pissed at the specific question as it meant that they were somewhat interested in her
brother
- they always looked so shocked when she revealed his gender -- which poked at her insecurity of being less feminine than Will.
Many times she caught her man making moves on her brother before they knew his gender as their eyes never left his ass.
'
God, his ass,'
Samantha gagged as she cringed at how a boy could have something so clearly, feminine-ly seductive attached to his behind.
She knew that despite his...looks, her brother still liked to think of himself as a man rather than some effeminate faggot. Samantha counted down the days it would take before he came out of the closet and announced his new sexuality.
She was spread-eagled on her bed, bored out of her mind. She was about to indulge her brother in many of her pranks before a couple of notifications popped up from her phone. Opening it, Samantha saw that her girlfriends had been tagging her for something in the group chat.
(Sammy)
