The World’s First Futa – Futa’s Wild Presidency

Chapter Four: Futa’s First Sensual Contest

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2018

April 17th, 2047

“For the next year or so, you had a good string of diplomatic success,” Adelia said as we neared the end of our interview on my life. As much fun as it was to talk about my life on my forty-eighth birthday, I was eager to finish this last segment. I needed a break.

But I still had to be positive and sexy, to let the world see me answer her questions without showing my fatigue. I had to be in control, presidential. “Yes, yes, the Dubai Accords were a smashing success, and I was so thrilled with how we handled the humanitarian crisis in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Though Russia continued resisting, I was bringing around the other nations.”

“Yes, you ‘seduced’ China with economic opportunities offered by your allies in Europe and South America, and Japan jumped in right from the beginning.”

“Yes, Japan was with me 100%. They always loved me. Plus, my futa-daughters I bred during my years living there were celebrities in their own right. A dozen of them had formed a J-Pop group that performed for my second inauguration,” I said. “But we’re not there yet, are we? I think I know what you want to talk about.”

“The Russian sphere, the remnants of the Eastern Bloc and those countries that, while independent from the Federation, still had economic and political ties back to Moscow,” Adelia said.

“Futas were gaining footholds almost everywhere else, but the Russians, particularly President Demyan Ignatov, didn’t want anything to do with us. But my daughters, Christina in particular, identified a weakness in their alliance. The most strident supporter of the Russian position was Vladislav Kokot.”

“The ‘President for Life’ of Slovenia,” Adelia said to the cameras and the studio audience. “He took advantage of the European Union’s collapse twenty years ago to install himself as all but a dictator in the Eastern European country.”

“Propped up by Moscow,” I added. “But if I could win him over, I would have the strongest Russian cheerleader on my side, kicking out the legs from beneath their alliance. Then I could deal with President Demyan Ignatov directly.”

“Smart,” Adelia said. “But I bet you didn’t expect that to happen when you came for your diplomatic visit.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said. “Back home, I was getting hammered by the remnants of the democratic and republican parties for ‘legitimizing’ a dictator by visiting Slovenia. But I had to do this. I had to win him over.

“I just didn’t expect the cost.”

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

August 13th, 2038

“A fucking contest?” I blurted out to President Vladislav Kokot as he lead me out of the presidential palace onto its back lawn where a horde of Eastern European women waited naked and eager. “You want to have a fucking contest? With me?”

“Indeed,” Vladislav said, a big grin on his thick lips. He was a tall man and fit, his chest deep and broadly muscled. His Italian suit couldn’t hide his strength. This was a man who cultivated fitness. He had a thick mustache on his face, his hair dark, not a hint of gray. “The one of us who cums in the most amount of women in three hours, wins.”

“But you’re a man,” I said. “And I’m… well, me! Surely you know how much stamina I have.” I may be pushing forty now, but my futa-daughters threw orgies all the time, bringing in as many virgin, nubile girls for us to fuck as we could handle. Though they’d inherited my genes, they hadn’t inherited my unlimited stamina. I could cum and cum and cum. “No offense, Mister President, but you cannot compete with me.”

“See, that is the arrogance that we despise about you futanari,” he said. “You think you are here to supplant men, but I am here to tell you that we can compete with you. We can have as much stamina as you. Can cum as much as you. Impregnate as many women as you.”

“You think I’m here to supplant you?” I asked.

“You futanari will supplant the entire human race in a few generations if you’re not stopped,” he said. “If barricades aren’t erected to keep you out of sovereign nations. I will not give up without a fight. I will prove that men are superior to you today.”

“How?” I asked, shaking my head as I gazed out at the horde of women. “You know that’s physically impossible. Men have to recover. You have a refractory period before you can even get an erection again, let alone ejaculate.”

“The same way men have always conquered nature,” he growled, his hand shoving into his pocket. “Through the use of our minds.” He pulled out a thick, blue pill, a string of numbers and letters stamped into the side. “This is how I will beat you.”

“What?” I asked. “Is that Viagra?”

“This is superior to that. To Cialis. To all the male enhancement drugs.” He shook it at me. “With this, I shall have the same sexual prowess as you. We shall be evenly matched.” His grin grew, his mustache bristling on his upper lip. “Then we shall see if you futanari deserve to supplant us, or if us men need to do our duty, step up, and out breed you to protect our species.”

“Are you saying if I win, you’ll sign the Dubai Accords?” I asked. I had plans for those accords. Step one was to get everyone cooperating in a way that the UN had always failed to achieve. It was too mired in its bureaucracy. The Accords would be something better, a true foundation for a democratic government modeled off the United States Constitution.

A world government that respected the sovereign powers its member states the way the Federal government I ran had to respect the individual states sovereign rights and powers. I would deliver world peace to my futa-daughters and their descendants.

I owed them that.

“I will sign if you win.”

“Agreed,” I said, my girl-cock already swelling hard. “If you win, I shall withdraw the pressure I’m putting on the Russian Federation and her allies. You can manufacture that pill and see if men can truly out-breed my daughters and me.”

He nodded his head. “This is how evolution works. Will mankind adapt to the changing pressure, or will the new mutation carry the day?”

“Mutation, huh?” I asked, staring down at my cock swelling in my skirt. “Some people thing I’m divine. That God crated me, or Allah. Others think I’m a devil, an anomaly, that aliens created me. I’ve heard some crackpots claim I was created in the lab by the Illuminati.”

He grinned at me. “No, no, evolution produced you. It can happen, you know, rapid change in a species. It is not supposed to happen in a large, global population, but in isolation.” He shrugged. “But scientists can be wrong, particularity when they only have a handful of bones to study. Today, we shall find out who is superior.”

“You are an interesting man,” I said, trying not to like him. He had seized control of his nation and used its military to suppress any dissent. People who questioned him had a way of ending up in prison, but…

I had to work with him. Political reality was a murky thing sometime.

“Select two of your staff to be judges, and I will select two of mine, one watching each of us that way we can rely on their count,” he said.

I nodded my head. “Christina and Lola,” I said. “You got it.”

“Sure, Mom,” my daughters said. Lola gave her wife a quick hug, they were married two months ago, and darted towards me. Christine pushed up her glasses and took a statelier walk to me.

The president popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it without any water. I arched an eyebrow at that. It made my own throat tighten just thinking about mimicking that feat. Then, together, we descended to the women who were all quivering in delight.

They were young, of course, between eighteen and twenty-five, their bodies lovely. A garden of delights from flat-chested girls with little A cups to busty girls that had to be F or even G cups, their bountiful tits overflowing their hands. Most had dark hair, a range of brunettes to raven-blacks, their faces delicate, skin pale with that Eastern European roundness and high cheekbones. Some had shaved pussies, others trimmed or with landing strips, while some had fierce bushes.

“Aren’t they all just lovely?” he asked. “They were all eager for it, all wanting to be bred by you because us men haven’t shown them our true prowess.” He shook his head in disgust. “Feminism has utterly ruined two generations of men.”

I arched an eyebrow at that but didn’t comment. I would show him my prowess.

“Most young men are raised to care about their feelings. To be sensitive, delicate, dainty things who consume too much soy and have no testosterone. No wonder women are needing something virile in their lives. Humans are sexual beings, President Woodard. Everything we do is about sex at some level. We’re not aware of it, but it drives men to success and women to be beautiful.

“All for this.” He spread out his arms. “For fucking. For rutting. You are re-invigorating our race. That is why you evolved. But it is time for men to seize back their place and show the women of the world that they can give them what they crave deep in their DNA.”

I blinked my eyes. He ranted like a cheesy villain in a B movie.

He loosened his tie while the women moaned around us. They were all touching themselves, eager for me. I was surprised they weren’t mobbing me. That could happen with women who had never been around me. They managed to have a great deal of discipline as their hands rubbed at their hot cunts, juices dribbling down their thighs.

I stripped, too. As Vladislav barred his broad, hairy chest, I slipped out of my blouse, my round, plump tits on display. Still firm despite my age. I had a fit body, in great shape. They said forty’s the new twenty, and I wasn’t quite that old. I had almost a full year left before my big 4-0 birthday.

A moan rose from the crowd as my skirt came off, my girl-dick cradled in a pair of pink satin panties with a white frill running across it. I loved the cut of this pair. It fit me well. I smiled at the women, winking at them as they stared at me with lusty hunger, the sun shining on their pale flesh.

“Mmm, I can feel it working already,” groaned Vladislav, his dick thrusting hard before him. For a man, he was hung. I blinked at that. He was almost as hung as one of my daughters, but I still dwarfed him.

I thrust my panties down. My clit-dick popped out, the tip flicking a drop of precum before me. It spun through the air while the Slovenian women moaned. Their passion echoed around me as I wiggled out of my panties, my pussy on fire.