The World’s First Futa – Futa’s Beauty Pageant

Chapter One: Futa’s First Naughty Pageant

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2018

April 17th, 2047

“Welcome back to our celebration of President Becky Woodward’s forty-eight birthday,” Adelia said as she sat beside me on the small couch. We were over an hour into our interview, streamed live across the internet to the world, and so much naughty fun had happened.

I still buzzed from fucking my young wife, Sharron, up the ass with my futa-cock before we took the last commercial break. My pregnant wife sat in a chair off-stage now, her face flushed, still half-dazed from her orgasmic high even after the two-minute-long pause for the advertisers.

Adelia, the caramel-skinned talk show host, glanced at me. “It is such an honor to have the world’s first futa in my studio today. I’m so glad you accepted my invitation to have this retrospective on your life.”

“It has been a wonderful time so far,” I said. A laugh rippled out of the watching studio audience, a peal of feminine delight. “Especially telling you about my first live interview back when I was nineteen.”

“Yes, yes, what a tale that was,” Adelia said. “And it is what led to our next topic in your life: Ms. Bred Beauty Pageant. It’s like the Miss Universe contest, but only eligible to women bred by you and who were in their third trimester of their pregnancy.”

“When they could show off those round bellies,” I said, nodding my head.

“So the twenty-ninth Ms. Bred was held just last month,” Adelia said.

I laughed, “The first one I was able to judge in eight years. It was one of the things I missed while serving my two terms as president. So I was glad to be able to return.”

“Yes, especially since you’ll soon be taking office as the world’s first president. So no more judging duties again?”

I sighed. “No more judging duties… But the people, manly the women, of the world spoke. We’re going to do something great, but we haven’t gotten to that part of my life yet. Right now, everyone wants to hear about the first pageant.”

“Ms. Bred 2019,” nodded Adelia. “It was such a hot idea.

“I wish I could take credit for the idea, but a far kinkier man then me came up with it.”

“You’re talking about Carter Mondale, who was then the President of CNN?” Adelia asked.

I nodded my head, my blonde hair rustling about my shoulders. The hair stylist had touched me up between breaks, my do getting a little tousled after having sex a few times already. My futa-dick throbbed beneath my skirt as I said, “He met me after my interview with Amelia McCreery. He was ecstatic about the success of that broadcast. It shouldn’t be a shock to anyone that he would propose this naughty idea of beauty pageant.

“After all, he put live futa-sex onto CNN to boost its ratings against its competitor, Fox News, who numbered among my greatest critics.”

“Of course, Fox News was having you breeding their female hosts withing a week,” Adelia said.

“Principals don’t matter when there are ratings to be earned and advertiser dollars to be made,” I said.

“Or when a sexy futa with a big, throbbing girl-dick wants to breed your pussy,” Adelia added, her voice growing throaty. She pressed her thighs together, streaked with my drying cum from our earlier romp.

“So true,” I said, smiling at the TV. “So Mr. Mondale proposed the idea, and I fell in love with it. It turned out to be a lot of work to put together. We had to figure out how to get contestants, what the rules were, the sponsors. Even with Mr. Mondale putting all his business and media expertise to it, I felt ragged by the time March rolled around. I was also cheering for my college, fundraising with the boosters and alumni, giving interviews left and right, and breeding every woman I could in between. My nineteen-year-old self was pushed to her limits.

“But it was worth it,” I said, smiling.

“So how did you come up with the contestants? Now a days, with your daughters breeding women, too, it’s not just limited to girls you’ve impregnated so the pool is a lot larger to draw from. But back then…”

“We held twenty qualifying events, glorified talent shows, mostly across the Pacific Northwest since that was where I lived at the time. People who attended would vote on which pregnant girl they thought was the most talented and hottest. The winner would then make the final event, assuming her ultrasound showed that she was carrying a futa. I was so excited when the day finally came. It was a Saturday and I was wearing the most beautiful dress ever…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 23rd, 2019

I trembled as I sat down at the judge’s table to the right of the stage, my dick so hard, tenting the front of the little, black dress I wore. I felt so glamorous in it with my diamond necklace about my neck, my round breasts on displayed. I had my blonde hair stylized into a delicious mass that fell down to my left shoulder and spilled over it and down to my cleavage.

On my right, Mr. Mondale sat, a tall man, slightly overweight but his tux hid most of it, making him look almost suave until you saw that pervy grin on his thick lips. He had his hands clasped before him, eager for the contestants to come out. On my right was Amelia McCreery, the CNN host I bred on live TV. She had her hands cupping her swollen belly, a glow almost radiating out from the black-hair woman. Her breasts looked so ripe and inviting in her low-cut, red dress.

I could feel the excitement rippling through the auditorium. The Dolby Theater in Los Angeles was packed with attendees. The air brimmed with excitement. I rubbed my hands together, fighting the urge to grab my futa-dick as the stage lights came on. The music played.

Karissa Walmsley, Miss Universe 2018, strode out in a silver dress that clung to her lush body, her belly round with the five months of her pregnancy, her hips swaying from side-to-side. She moved with the same grace she displayed when she won her crown, nestled amid her black curls. Her coffee-brown skin from her mixed-race heritage almost glowed beneath the stage lights. She felt ephemeral, like a dream.

“Welcome to the first annual Ms. Bred Beauty Pageant,” she said, her voice gushing. “I am so honored to be invited by the world’s first futa, Becky Woodward, to MC this little event.” She paused, hand on her hip, giving the crowd a dazzling smile. “I know, look at me. I’m not nearly pregnant enough to be on stage with the beauties you’re going to see tonight.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

My pussy itched as I trembled in anticipation.

“We have twenty beautiful, bred ladies all eager to show off their womanly charms to you tonight,” Karissa continued. “So try to pace yourself. We have a night long event that will be full of so much passion, you might not make it otherwise.”

The lights changed, the stage going almost all dark except a single spotlight striking a red curtain on the right side of the stage. I could feel the anticipation swelling in the audience. In myself. My hand drifted beneath the table, finding my hard cock.

“So let’s welcome tonight’s lucky girls,” Karissa said, just a shape in the dark now, save for the occasional flash off her silver sequins as she shifted. “First up, all the way from Des Moines, Iowa is Jacki Colbert. She is a student at Seattle Pacific University who was bred by Becky when she snuck onto the UW campus with a group of friends and crashed one of the futa’s infamous Sunday orgies.”

“That naughty minx,” I purred as Jacki Colbert strutted out in a blue dress that hugged her pregnant form. She was blonde with heavy tits that jiggled, each cupped in soft, azure cloth. Her round belly swayed before her as she walked with such a confident strut. She had such long legs, the slit in the side of her dress letting her right flash out with every step on her stiletto heels.

My futa-cock throbbed hard.

A spotlight shone at the opposite end of stage while the first followed Jacki to her position. “Next we have Rexanne Weaver from Puyallup, Washington. She worked at a local coffee shop and had the delight of serving Becky more than the local java.”

My futa-dick throbbed as Rexanne strutted out, a petite girl with black hair, her belly looking so swollen with her pregnancy. Her small stature only made her hotter as she cupped her belly. She gave the audience smoky looks, her hips swaying. I vaguely remembered meeting her right before the fall semester started up.

More and more names were called. More and more beauties strutted out in their gowns. They were all so pregnant. So swollen and ripe. My hand clenched about my futa-dick, stroking up and down my shaft as I licked my lips in anticipation of tonight’s pageant. Some I knew very well, like Mei Wen who cheered on my college team, or Jamie who was secretary to my university’s president. Other girls I would never forget, like Sabrina, the cheerleader I fucked and bred while her quarterback boyfriend watched on, or Jordan, the naughty producer who sat on my dick during my first live interview with Amelia McCreery. But there were other contestants I didn’t remember breeding at all, lost in the blur of women I’d fucked.

And then there was Kristina Fishman.

I fought the urge to glare at the Black girl as she sauntered out. She used my ex-boyfriend Kurt to get close to me so she could be fucked and bred by me. She dumped him after I bred her before cheering at my first UW football game. And since I liked Kurt, I wasn’t happy with her at all.

In fact, I was rooting for her to lose. But I had to be impartial. I couldn’t vote against her just because of my personal feelings. Besides, I had an equal vote to Amelia and Mr. Mondale. I hoped they would see her as a cow and therefore not worthy of winning this contest.

Finally, all twenty pregnant ladies were standing beneath their own spotlights. They all looked so delicious, even Kristina, in their tight dresses. I had bred them all. They were all brimming with the life I planted in them. It made my futa-dick ache so badly. My pussy dripped so much juices.

I stroked myself faster.

“Now, let’s get to know this bevy of bred beauties,” Karissa said. “And, yes, I had to practice saying that without swallowing my tongue.”

The audience rippled with laughter. I smiled as I studied the women, eager to get to know some of them better. A few I still couldn’t remember fucking at all, like Jacki or Anemone, a redhead who came out seventh.

Amelia went first with her question. “Kristina, outside of fucking Becky, what is the naughtiest sexual act you’ve ever performed?”

Kristina clapped her hands before her mouth. The tall, Black girl shook her hips, her crimson dress swaying as it fell off her swollen belly. “Oh, my, well, it was at my sister’s wedding last month.” She shivered.