Thread: Years After the Plague (runawayninja x Tellmi_Moore)

Sara-Lynn's stomach grumbled, waking her. Stretching her legs out from under the covers and over the edge of the bed, she crawled backwards onto the bedroom floor. Her blond hair was a total mess from being rubbed against the sides of her pillowduvet nest all night she pulled it back roughly and yawned, stretching like a cat on the floor. Her stomach rumbled again and she curled into a ball, wincing at her hunger pangs. She hadn't eaten since dinner last night. To bed she wore a loose black tee-shirt as a night shirt one of Rafe's old ones, so it hung well below her knees when she was standing. Curled up on the floor she could pull it over her knees and fit her entire body inside the shirt, and did so, snuggling up in the dark for a few more minutes, listening to Rafe breathing in the bed above her. Her knees were pressing up against her swollen, tender breasts. She needed to be milked, and was leaking, creating dark little blotches on her tee-shirt. Her penis hard from sleep pressed against her thighs and breasts as she pressed into her little ball wrapped in her tee-shirt. It needed to be milked too, but this need was less severe if she ignored it, it would go away, at least until she had breakfast. Poking her legs out of her tee-shirt, she sat up and crawled over to the dresser she shared with Rafe. The bottom two drawers were hers. She opened her bottom drawer. Rafe had put several pairs of freshly bought socks, still in their plastic wrappers. She took all of these out and took them with her as she exited their bedroom, padding barefoot down the hallway to the stairs. She hated wearing shoes and socks, it was her own personal quirk, having nothing to do with her pubescent transformation into a futa during the plague years. As a child she had always hated wearing shoes, it made her feet sweat and her hands feel clammy. Last semester she had gotten in trouble for just wearing sandals without socks to class, and for wearing no socks or shoes in gym class. Walking down stairs, into the living room, she saw that, next to Rafe's shoes sitting by the front door, were her tennis shoes and sandals, which Rafe must have dug out of the trash where Sara had put them. She picked these up as well. In the kitchen, she turned on the light and looked into the garbage can. She had taken out the trash last night when she had thrown out her shoes and sandals. There was a new bag in the can with only one item in it the skirt from her school uniform. With a huff, she pulled this out and draped it over her shoulder, and dropped her shoes, sandals and the new, unpackaged socks into the garbage in their place. She brushed her palms against each other satisfyingly, happy with her statement, and draped her skirt over a chair at the kitchen table, padding her way barefoot over to the stove to make breakfast. By 652 she had Rafe's breakfast complete and waiting for him on the kitchen table. She had laid out a large plate with English-baked beans on buttered toast, fried red salted tomatoes, warm slices of lean ham with apple-sauce, three sunny-side-up eggs with hot-sauce and warm flaky potato-cakes made from leftover mashed potatoes. Now bored waiting for Rafe to wake up, she padded into the garage and threw her tee-shirt in the dirty-clothes hamper by the washing machine and padded, now naked, back into the kitchen and began squeezing some fresh orange juice for both of them while munching, half-heartedly on some celery sticks. It was hard for her to digest normal food anymore, since she had turned fourteen, at the height of the plague. Her taste-buds had changed too, and normal food, while still smelling good, no longer tasted palatable to futas, nor did it digest well or bear many nutrients. Celery, which neither had much taste or many nutrients anyway, was still a good fibrous filler to munch on. Juices, especially acidic beverages like citrus juice, still tasted okay and bore some useful vitamins. On the table, sitting next to the neatly folded napkin and fork, was a list of the new semester's dress code booklet, turned to page four and five, with sections highlighted in bright neon pink. It was the first day of the new semester this morning. Page four explained the new policy regarding futa uniforms, that, in the spirit of the new permissiveness laws, designed to encourage repopulation of the nation having lost nearly eighty percent of the population of the Earth during the plague that the school's uniform was now changed for futa and female students. Neither were allowed to wear panties any longer. The longest allowable skirt length for female students was now the previously recommended skirt length, two inches above the knees. Futas were not allowed to wear skirts at all any longer. This had been controversial and was seen by many to not be in the spirit of the permissiveness laws, originally seen as added protections for the wellbeing and safety of futas, was now seen as dangerous, harmful and exploitative to them. Not only would this leave futa students completely bottomless, it would expose those girls who had previously been able to conceal the fact that they were futas Sara-Lynn included. Her only consolation was that she now, according to her interpretation of the rules, no longer had to wear shoes and socks either. On page five, it stated mundane things like length of socks, colours permissible, etc. But, near the bottom of the page, under where it now stated sandals were now allowed, with or without socks, it now stated but while sandals, or going barefoot, are not preferred or recommended, it is permissible on school grounds, in class and at school functions. Sara-Lynn had highlighted the whole passage, and underlined the or going barefoot part in blue ink for Rafe to see. After setting a glass of fresh orange juice at his place at the table, Sara heard Rafe coming down the stairs and, quickly checking to make sure she didn't have any food or juice pulp on her naked body, she struck a coy, seductive pose by the kitchen counter, in full view of the door to the living room. She had pulled her platinum hair back and tied it, and her penis, which had become soft during cooking, was now stiff and tall again, exposing her hairless vagina beneath knowing her appearance would make Rafe rock hard when he came down stairs and saw her. She couldn't help but smile, her anxieties about the new dress policy momentarily forgotten as she pictured the look on Rafe's sleepy face.