FemmeForgie
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Dared into Her (TG Story) - Part 4
🕑 Added 2025-09-02 23:02:08 +0000 UTCDared into Her (TG Story)
By FemmeForge
It was supposed to be a stupid late-night joke — a drunk, mean-spirited dare to humiliate the shy virgin of the group.
One ritual. A mirror. A copper bowl. A “lust offering.”
Shy, dick-starved virgin Ethan never stood a chance once his friends found that shady “summon a succubus” ritual online.
They pin him in the spotlight, ripping into him with filthy jokes about how he’d look as a woman — huge, soft tits spilling over his hands, a fat jiggling ass you could bounce coins off, and a dripping little pussy just begging for the first cock that got near it.
Ethan knew it was fake. His friends knew it was fake. That didn’t stop them from pinning him down in the filthiest way possible — teasing him, taunting him, painting vivid pictures of what he’d look like with fat tits, a perfect ass, and a dripping little pussy. They laughed, they dared, they pushed… until he said yes.
By the time it’s over, Ethan’s gone — replaced by a wide-eyed, soaking-wet slut who can barely stand without rubbing her thighs together.
Now Ethan is about to find out just how far a silly dare can go… and how hot, humiliating, and irreversible becoming the perfect fuckable plaything can really be.
Link for the PDF File: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1a0fxkgsO_soIm8MYptpkKly-y0qRAduy/view?usp=drive_link
Part 4
Ethan hit the floor hard, palms slapping against the chalk circle as another wet crack tore through his hips. His whole body jolted like he’d been tasered, back arching, thighs trembling.
“Fuuuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!” he spat through clenched teeth, voice pitching high and cracking again. Every curse sounded less like anger and more like a desperate whimper.
His waist was tightening in on itself, ribs grinding, every breath making his torso cinch narrower. He clawed at his sides like he could hold them still, nails dragging over skin that felt fever-hot and wrong. His hips bucked outward with another obscene pop, forcing his legs apart.
“Shiiit—oh god—stop it! It’s—ahhh—fuck!” The cry broke into a breathy moan halfway through, humiliating him even more.
Mason loomed over him, eyes glued to the new curve carving itself into Ethan’s body. He crouched and slid his hands along Ethan’s waist, gripping the narrow channel with ease. “Jesus, look at this—” he sneered, squeezing until Ethan gasped, “—I can get both hands around you. That’s a fuckin’ handle, man. Built for me to hold while I pound you.”
“Don’t—fucking—touch me!” Ethan snarled, but his voice betrayed him again, the words breathy, too soft, too girlish.
Cass leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirk sharp. “God, listen to him. He’s cussing like he’s fighting it, but it’s coming out like a bitch in heat.”
Ethan writhed harder, hips spasming as the curse pulled his frame into that obscene hourglass. His thoughts felt like they were being scrambled, every wave of pain carrying a flicker of something else — hot, heavy, needy. He banged a fist against the floor, sobbing and spitting at once. “I’m not—I’m not your fucking toy! I’m not—ahhhhnnn—!”
Another crack rolled through his spine and his moan was high, feminine, uncontrollable. His head dropped forward, sweat dripping onto the floorboards. “Fuuuuck—this isn’t—me! This isn’t—”
But the mirror told another story: a blurred silhouette already swaying, waist pinched tight, hips full and round, the outline of a womanly body taking shape no matter how much he cursed.
Mason chuckled low, pressing against Ethan’s back, grinding his cock into the new curve of his waist. “Keep cussing, princess. Every ‘fuck’ out of your mouth just makes you sound more like a whore.”
Ethan sobbed, shuddering as another bone shifted under Mason’s grip. “You sick—fucking—bastard—ahhh!”
The last word melted into a moan so wanton even he flinched at the sound of it. His mind reeled, clinging to rage, but the curse was lacing every thought with raw heat, blurring pain with filthy, aching need.
And Cass only smirked wider, whispering: “Face it, Ethan. The curse doesn’t care what you think. It’s not just taking your body. It’s rewiring your head. Every cuss, every scream… it’s just training your mouth for moaning.”
Ethan’s nails carved white streaks into the floorboards as another deep pop rattled through his waist. He bit down hard, teeth gritting, and spat out, “FUCK YOU—!”
Except that wasn’t what came out.
“Fuuuuck meeehhhn~!” His voice pitched high, syrupy, the last syllable drawn out in a slutty moan that made Mason freeze for half a second before bursting into a wicked laugh.
“Oh my god,” Mason wheezed, clutching his side. “He’s—he’s begging for cock without even meaning to.”
Ethan’s head shot up, eyes wild. “No! That’s not what I—shit—!”
But the word cracked, split apart, melting into a breathy, whimpering: “Ohhh yesss, right thereee~…” His own voice betrayed him, soft and pornographic, like he was already getting railed.
Cass slapped a hand over her mouth, her smirk trembling into full-on laughter. “Oh my fucking god, Ethan—listen to yourself! You sound like you’re halfway through a bad porno audition.”
“No! Stop! I’m saying—stop—” His throat spasmed, the syllables bending, spilling out as: “Staaahhhhp! Ohhh don’t stop!”
He froze, horror dawning across his sweat-slick face. His own mouth had betrayed him again.
Mason leaned in close, voice a low, hungry growl. “Goddamn… the curse isn’t just reshaping you. It’s rewriting your fucking mouth. Every time you try to talk tough, it just comes out as you begging to get fucked.”
Ethan slammed a fist into the floor, but it only made his tits jiggle under his arms. “I said—FUCK OFF—!”
What actually spilled out was a breathless, obscene: “Fuuuck my puhhssyy~!”
His whole body jerked in horror. “No—no, no, no!” he stammered, but even that cracked into a moan, “Nnnoo moreeehhhn~…”
Cass doubled over laughing, wiping a tear from her eye. “Ohhh this is priceless. He’s trying to be mad, but he’s basically dirty-talking himself.”
Mason’s smirk sharpened into something feral. He grabbed Ethan by the chin, forcing him to look up. “Say it again, princess. Cuss at me. Go on. Tell me to fuck off.”
Ethan’s breath hitched. “F-Fuck—” He tried, really tried, to snarl it, but the curse twisted the word into a trembling whimper: “Fuuuuck meeeeee~!”
Mason barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Perfect. You don’t even need training. Your mouth’s already cock-ready.”
Ethan sobbed, shaking his head, tears dripping down. “No, no, no—please—”
But even that melted into: “Pleeaaseee don’t stooop.”
The sound of his own voice shattered him, but Mason and Cass were grinning like wolves who’d already won.
Ethan’s throat ached from screaming, but it didn’t matter — every word that spilled out turned traitor the second it left his mouth.
“I said get the fuck aw—” He choked, but the curse bent the syllables into:
“G-get the cock in meeehhhn~!”
He slapped both hands over his mouth, horrified, eyes wide. That wasn’t what he’d meant. That wasn’t—
Mason leaned down, grinning like a wolf. “Oh, this is fucking gold. Every insult you throw just comes out as an invitation. Keep talking, princess. I’m loving the dirty talk.”
Cass’s smirk widened. “It’s like the curse is turning him into his own fluffer. He can’t even beg us to stop without it sounding like a horny come-on.”
Ethan ripped his hands away, desperate to force his real words through. “I-I don’t want this, I’m not—ahhh—” His protest cracked apart in the middle, spilling out as:
“I want it sooo bad, I’m your little whoreeehhhn~!”
He gagged on the sound, shaking his head violently. “NO! That’s not—” But the denial twisted instantly: “Yessss, oh god yes~!”
Mason howled, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “Holy shit, man, you’re dirty-talking yourself into being a slut.”
Ethan clutched at his throat like he could choke the words back down, but they just kept dripping out, hot and obscene. Every sob, every gasp came flavored with moan. His tears only made it worse, because the curse laced even his cries with breathy, porn-star lilt.
“F-fucking kill me—!” he tried to spit, but the curse rolled it into:
“F-fuck me till I diiieeehhhn~!”
Cass’s jaw dropped, and then she burst into laughter so hard she doubled over. “Ohhh, Ethan, you’re gone. You’re basically auditioning for Brazzers right now.”
“Shut—shut up!” Ethan barked, but it came out as: “Shut me up with your cockkk~!”
The sound made Mason freeze for half a heartbeat. His grin sharpened into something hungry. He crouched down, face inches from Ethan’s, and growled low: “Say that again.”
Ethan shook his head desperately. “N-no, I—”
But his lips betrayed him with a trembling moan: “Yessss, stuff me full~!”
Mason’s laugh was dark, filthy, half-disbelieving. “Oh my god. The curse isn’t just making you look like a slut. It’s teaching you how to sound like one.”
Ethan whimpered, shaking violently, but even that whimper bent into: “Mmm, harder, I need morerrhhhn~.”
Cass crouched low, her grin razor-sharp. “Face it, Eth. Every time you open your mouth now, all you’re saying is ‘fuck me.’ Your own voice wants cock more than you do.”
Ethan slammed his fists against the floor, panting, hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. He tried to bark, “I said stop, stop it now—” but what came out was a ragged, breathy, “S-stop, don’t stop, moreeeehhhn~!”
His whole frame jolted at the betrayal. “N-no! I didn’t say—fuck, I didn’t—” The next curse spilled out twisted: “F-fuck, yes, right there~!”
Cass let out a sharp laugh. “Ohhh, this is brutal. His brain knows what he wants to say, but his mouth’s already speaking slut.”
Ethan clutched his throat like he could throttle the sound back in. “I’m not a whore—” Except it came out trembling, soaked in pornographic heat: “I’m your little whoreeehhhn~!”
“Holy shit,” Mason muttered, leaning in close, eyes wide with fascination. “You’re fighting it, but it’s winning every time you open your mouth.” He squeezed Ethan’s new waist like a handle, shaking him. “Talk again. Do it.”
“Fuck y—” Ethan tried, only to choke as the curse twisted it into, “Fuuuuck meeehhhn~!” His eyes watered instantly.
“Goddamn,” Mason grinned, “I could keep this game going all night.”
But then Ethan’s whole body jerked — not from Mason’s grip, but from inside. A deep, low crack rolled through his chest, not bone this time, but muscle and skin pulling tight, reshaping.
Ethan doubled over, groaning. “Shit, it hu—ahhhhnnn~ yesss, right there!” His voice broke into a pornographic moan against his will.
Cass’s laughter cut short. “Wait—look at him. His frame’s shrinking again.”
And it was. His shoulders, once broad, were narrowing by inches, collarbones pulling inward with audible snaps. The sleeves of his hoodie — hanging off his discarded pile of clothes — suddenly looked oversized against his receding frame.
“F-fuck, no, it’s—” Ethan gasped, then cringed as the words tumbled out corrupted: “Fuuuuck, oh god, yes, tighter~!” His hands clawed at his shoulders, but they just kept narrowing, forcing his chest forward.
Mason smirked, dragging a thumb over the curve of Ethan’s spine. “Jesus… he’s collapsing in on himself. Every bit of man he had left is melting away.”
“Shut up, Mason!” Ethan tried to snarl, but it came out a breathy, needy “Shut me up with your cock~!”
Cass covered her mouth, torn between laughing and staring. “It’s like his body and his voice are conspiring against him. Every inch that recedes just makes him sound dirtier.”
Ethan shook his head wildly, tears streaming. “No, no, I’m not—ahhhhnn~—I’m not a slut, I’m not—” But what spilled out was “I’m your slut, use meeehhhn~!”
His waist cinched tighter with a wet creak, his chest heaving as his ribs folded inward. The mirror’s reflection already showed a narrow, feminine frame — slender arms, curving waist, flaring hips — while the real Ethan writhed and cursed, each curse dripping into pornographic confession.
Mason leaned in, lips by Ethan’s ear. “You hear that? Your body’s shrinking down to the perfect fucktoy, and your mouth can’t stop begging for cock. Keep fighting, princess. It just makes it hotter.”
Ethan thrashed, voice cracking high as the pain stabbed through him. “Sh-shit! Fuuuuck! No! Stooop—!” But the curse made every syllable betray him: “Ohhh yes, fuuuuck, don’t stop~!”
And Cass, smirking again, whispered like a dagger: “Face it, Ethan. Your mind’s next.”
Ethan’s hands clawed at his ribs, every breath breaking into those humiliating half-moans the curse forced out of him. Then a new sensation crawled across his skin — not inside this time, but on the surface. A prickling heat, like static electricity, rippling outward from his chest.
He looked down in horror. The faint trail of hair that had dusted his stomach was shrinking, fading into nothing like smoke burning away.
“What the—no, no, no, it’s—” he gasped, only for it to spill out as: “Yesss, smooth me out, make me sooo soft~!”
Cass leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “Oh my god. It’s eating his body hair.”
Sure enough, the thin hair on his arms, his legs, even the scruff along his jaw — it all began to vanish in patches, leaving only flushed, gleaming skin behind. Ethan dragged his nails down his forearm, wide-eyed as the last dark strands flaked away into nothing under his touch.
“Shit—fuck—what’s happening to me?!” His plea twisted into a breathy whine: “Yesss, make me silky, touch meeee~!”
Mason let out a filthy chuckle, dragging a hand down Ethan’s bare chest. “Holy fuck… you’re going baby-smooth. Like the curse wants you shaved and ready for cock.”
Ethan recoiled, shaking his head violently. “N-no, I’m not—!” But the curse bent his words into: “Nnnn, I’m sooo readyyyy~!”
The sensation spread lower, heat crawling over his thighs. His leg hair melted away in streaks, leaving soft skin that made his knees quake. Even his armpits prickled hot before going bare, the last evidence of his manhood disappearing.
Cass laughed sharply, voice cruel. “Look at him. Not even stubble left. Just smooth, slutty skin. You couldn’t grow a beard if you begged.”
Ethan groaned, hugging himself like he could hide it — but the curse wasn’t finished. His discarded jeans lay bunched at the edge of the chalk circle, his underwear tangled in the heap. They seemed almost to pulse with rejection, like the curse itself was disgusted by the scraps of male clothing.
Suddenly his hoodie felt suffocating, his t-shirt like sandpaper. He ripped them off in a frenzy, tossing them across the room with a ragged moan. “G-get them off me—!” Except what came out was: “Get this gross shit off me, I wanna be naked for youuu~!”
Mason barked a laugh, eyes glued to Ethan’s trembling, hairless body. “Oh, that’s rich. You’re literally begging to strip.”
Ethan hurled the last of his socks away, shuddering as the cool air kissed bare skin that had never felt this smooth. His whole frame was flushed, glistening with sweat, chest heaving. Naked. Vulnerable. Feminine.
He slumped to his knees, trying to cover himself with his hands, but every movement only drew attention to the obscene hourglass outline glowing in the mirror behind him.
Cass smirked and tilted her head. “There it is. Not Ethan anymore. Just soft, smooth, and ready to be dressed like a doll. Or left naked, like the toy you’re becoming.”
Ethan shook his head, tears streaking down his face. “I’m not—I’m not a slut—” But the curse twisted it sweetly into: “I’m your slut, touch my smooth skin, pleaaase~!”
Mason crouched low, one hand gripping that tiny waist, the other dragging along his bare thigh. “Christ… you feel like silk. The curse knew exactly what you needed. Nothing left of the man. Just skin begging for hands all over it.”
Ethan sobbed, moaned, writhed — the sound tangled, corrupted. His body hair was gone. His clothes were gone. And his voice betrayed him every time he tried to deny it.
Ethan sat shivering in the circle, hands clenched over his groin like that could hide him from the firelight. His skin already gleamed hairless everywhere else, and the humiliating smoothness made every breath feel obscene. But then it started — that crawling, prickling heat low in his belly, sinking downward, spreading across the base of his cock.
His eyes went wide. “N-no… oh fuck, not there—”
What left his mouth was a trembling, needy: “Ohhh yes, right there, take it allll~!”
He gasped, palms flying instinctively to cover himself tighter — but the sensation only grew hotter beneath his grip. His pubic hair tingled, curled, and then simply melted away against his skin like frost in sunlight. When he pulled his shaking hand back, his mound was bare, smooth, and flushed.
Cass’s breath caught in her throat, her smirk curling back sharp. “Oh my god. It’s even stripping your bush. You’re gonna be completely hairless down there — like a pornstar cunt.”
“Shut up!” Ethan barked, but it slipped out as: “Shove your cock here, I’m bare for youuuu~!” His eyes filled with horror at his own words. “No! That’s not—I didn’t—”
Mason leaned closer, eyes glued to the smooth, flushed skin between Ethan’s thighs. “Holy fuck… look at that. Smooth as a doll already. Like the curse wanted you waxed before the slit even shows up.” He grinned darkly. “Perfect pussy prep.”
Ethan whimpered, doubling over, thighs pressed together. “I-I don’t want a—fuck, please—”
But the curse cooed it out of his mouth: “I want my pussy, pleaaaseee~!”
The copper bowl gleamed in the candlelight just inches away, filled with the obscene mess of his earlier “offering.” His bare mound hovered over it now, flushed and twitching like it was already aching for something that hadn’t even formed yet.
Cass tilted her head, biting her lip. “God, Ethan, even smooth you look more like a girl than a guy. Once that little cock’s gone? You’re done.”
Ethan’s nails dug into his thighs as he sobbed. “No! Don’t say that—I’m still—ahhhhnnn—fuck, I’m still a man!”
What spilled out, sweet and humiliating, was: “I’m not a man, I’m your little girl, fuuuck meeehhhn~!”
Mason laughed low, hungry, his hand sliding brazenly up Ethan’s trembling thigh. “Nah, princess. That bush is gone. The man’s already gone. All that’s left now… is a blank canvas for the perfect cunt.”
Ethan shook, tears streaking his cheeks as the last coarse strands receded into nothing, leaving his groin as smooth and obscene as the rest of his cursed body. He couldn’t hide it anymore — not the bare mound, not the hourglass silhouette, not the way every word out of his mouth begged to be fucked.
For a split second, Ethan shut his eyes tight, squeezing them so hard his skull throbbed. He couldn’t stand the mirror, couldn’t stand Cass’s smirk or Mason’s hungry stare.
Inside his own head — where the curse couldn’t yet twist his voice — he begged, ragged and desperate: I don’t want this. I don’t want to be some hot, curvy bitch for them to laugh at. I don’t want tits, I don’t want an ass, I don’t want to be their toy. I just want to be me. Please. Please don’t take me away.
But when his lips parted, when the sound spilled out of his throat, the curse shredded that thought into something filthy:
“Make me your hot, curvy whoreeehhhn~!”
His eyes flew wide in horror. That wasn’t what he’d thought. That wasn’t what he wanted. But his own voice — soft, sultry, moaning — betrayed him for the hundredth time.
Mason grinned, leaning closer. “There it is. You’re begging for it now. And you sound so fucking good doing it.”
Ethan’s tears streaked down his flushed cheeks as the war inside him crumbled — his mind still fighting, but every breath, every moan dragging him closer to the slut the curse was sculpting out of him.
To be continued...
