FemmeForgie
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Erotic Moral Decay (TG Story) - Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2025-03-07 01:11:09 +0000 UTCErotic Moral Decay (TG Story)
By FemmeForgie
Jacob Ellsworth is a young biochemistry graduate scientist who meets his mentor, Victor Hensley, at an important scientific conference. Unbeknownst to poor, innocent Jacob, Victor, in a desperate attempt to synthesize a serum called Erosynth—capable of altering a person’s innermost physical aspects—ingests the serum in a last, frantic bid to prove its worth. However, instead of achieving his intended results, Victor transforms into a sexy, petite, and evil female alter ego named Evelyn.
Evelyn’s insatiable sexual cravings drive her to corrupt and mind-control men through seductive, wanton rampages. With each transformation brought on by further ingestion of the serum, Evelyn’s dark influence grows stronger, eroding the remnants of Victor’s original self. Now, Evelyn, the embodiment of Victor’s darker desires, has set her sights on corrupting poor Jacob. But will Jacob surrender to the seductive enticements of his mentor’s evil female alter ego, or will he resist her alluring yet sinister power?
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Erotic Moral Decay
Chapter 7:
Evelyn writhed uncontrollably in the hallway, her body overwhelmed by the relentless waves of sensation coursing through her. The rain continued its unending assault, each icy droplet cascading down her bare skin, tracing every lush, exaggerated curve, making her shiver and moan helplessly. Her glowing green eyes fluttered wildly as her small, delicate fingers dug into the wet pavement, every nerve ending alive and demanding attention.
Her moans filled the narrow space, loud and uninhibited, echoing off the cold walls around her. The sensations were merciless, surging through her new body with an intensity she had never imagined possible. Evelyn’s mind was entirely consumed, lost in the raw, overwhelming pleasure radiating from her hyper-sensitive flesh.
Her hips bucked involuntarily, rolling in desperate rhythm against nothing, seeking relief from the unbearable heat that had engulfed her. Her ample, rain-slicked curves jiggled and swayed with every involuntary movement, her full ass thrust into the air as though shamelessly inviting the sensations that overwhelmed her. Her entire existence was reduced to this primal, humiliating dance—her own creation's cruel power taking control completely.
She cried out, her voice high-pitched and trembling, full of both fear and ecstasy. "Oh God—ahhh! What’s happening to me? I—nnngh—I can't stop—ohhh fuck!"
Her mind flashed with vivid, depraved images, the serum flooding her brain with intense fantasies of being taken, dominated, and used—thoughts she'd never imagined as Victor, but were now irresistibly intoxicating. Each lurid thought pushed her further, driving her hips into frantic motion as her fingers, almost of their own accord, slid desperately between her thighs.
"No—ohhh—why can't I stop—ahhh!" she sobbed, her voice dripping with shame and pleasure. But her body gave her no reprieve, no chance to resist. Her fingers moved rapidly, exploring her slick, swollen folds, amplifying the sensations until her cries rose into a crescendo of ecstasy and despair.
"Ahhh! Oh God—yes—no—fuck!" she screamed, her voice breaking into sobs of helpless pleasure as her body surrendered fully to the sensations, leaving her mind a broken, writhing mess on the cold, wet ground. Evelyn was completely at the mercy of the serum now—and the overwhelming hunger it had unleashed within her.
Evelyn's mind spun wildly between waves of uncontrollable, overwhelming horniness, each surge of pleasure drawing desperate, breathy moans from her lips. Amid the heated chaos, she clung desperately to fading memories of who she once was—Victor, strong, determined, and undeniably male. She tried in vain to hold onto those fragments, to remember the sensation of the cock she once had, the feeling of power and control it gave her.
"N-no... this isn't—oh God—this isn't me," she whimpered, voice trembling as her body twisted and writhed helplessly, betraying her every attempt at resistance. The serum surged relentlessly through her veins, driving her deeper into submission, washing away the remnants of her former identity. Each frantic memory of her lost masculinity was quickly swept aside by a new flood of heat and sensation, reinforcing the irresistible femininity she'd been forced into.
"Oh, f-fuck... I had a cock, I was—ahh—Victor," she gasped, her fingers clawing weakly at the hallway floor, her hips rocking involuntarily as the serum tightened its grip. But her efforts were useless, her protests drowned out by the desperate, sensual moans now pouring uncontrollably from her lips. Her mind clouded, slipping further away as her body surrendered fully to the powerful sensations overwhelming her. Each gasp and shudder reminded her of one undeniable truth: she was Evelyn now, trapped and helplessly enthralled by her own creation, forever reshaped into this horny, sensual woman who craved release more intensely than she'd ever imagined possible.
Caught up in waves of uncontrollable, relentless arousal, Evelyn desperately tried to fight it off, reminding herself over and over that she used to be Victor, that she used to have a cock—that she'd been strong, capable, and in control. But the serum didn't give a damn about any of that. Every attempt at resistance melted away, crushed beneath the overwhelming heat flooding through her body. The more she thought about her old self, the stronger and more undeniable her new cravings became, pulling her deeper into submission to her new, soft, curvy, and impossibly horny feminine form.
Guilt hit her like a goddamn truck, crashing into her chest and knocking the air from her lungs. How the fuck could she be thinking of Jacob like this? He wasn’t some random guy to jerk off to—he was Jacob. The one person who had always been kind to her, who never treated her like a joke, who actually believed in her when no one else did. And yet, here she was, sprawled out on the cold-ass floor, moaning his fucking name, whispering breathless apologies between gasps like she could somehow repent for the filth in her head.
But her body didn’t give a single shit about her guilt. It didn’t give a fuck about how wrong this was, how disgusting it was to be picturing him like this. No, her traitorous pussy only got wetter, her thighs rubbing together as if she could grind the shame away—but all that did was send another shiver straight up her spine, making her gasp like a desperate, needy slut. Fuck, she hated this. Hated how every time she tried to shake the images away, they only came back stronger, clearer, more fucking detailed.
She could see him now, standing over her, his broad chest bare, muscles tense, his eyes not soft and understanding like she was used to—but dark, hungry. Predatory. Her breath hitched, her legs twitching at the thought of him pinning her down, gripping her wide, useless fucking hips and owning this body the way she never could. ‘Oh fuck, Jacob, I’m sorry—’ she gasped, but even as the words spilled out, her body just didn’t care.
The more she tried to shove the fantasy away, the worse it got. The more she clenched her thighs together, the more obvious her soaking wet pussy became—hot and dripping between her legs, her new, treacherous body begging for something thick and strong to fill the aching emptiness. ‘No, no, not him—’ she whined, but her pussy pulsed in defiance, her hips twitching like she was some pathetic little bitch in heat.
She could almost hear him now, his deep, steady voice murmuring her name—not the one she used to have, but the one she was stuck with now. Evelyn. He’d say it slow, savoring it, watching her squirm, and fuck, fuck, fuck, she could imagine his fingers trailing down her stomach, teasing her, making her beg before he finally—
‘Ohhh—fuck—’ she choked out, her back arching involuntarily, her soaked pussy clenching down on nothing, desperate for something to fill it. Her hands twitched at her sides, shaking with the effort it took not to touch herself, but it was useless. The serum had rewritten everything, had turned her into this needy, desperate, cock-hungry mess, and there was no fucking off switch.
‘Jacob, please—’ she whimpered, not even knowing what the fuck she was begging for anymore. For him to save her? To punish her? To fuck her so hard she forgot she ever used to be someone else? She didn’t know. All she knew was that her body had already made the decision for her—her soaked, throbbing pussy didn’t care what was right or wrong. It just wanted.
And fuck, she couldn’t stop herself from moaning his name again.
Then, all of a sudden, everything snapped—her mind, her will, her sense of self—shattered into nothing but raw, uncontrollable sensation. Coherent thought became an impossibility, slipping from her grasp like water through trembling fingers. The hallway around her dissolved into meaningless shapes and shadows, the only thing that remained real was the overwhelming need coursing through her transformed body, the sheer, relentless flood of sensation that had overtaken her completely.
Her glowing green eyes flickered wildly, growing impossibly bright, their eerie radiance cutting through the dim, rain-soaked corridor. Every moan, every ragged breath that tore from her lips was louder, more desperate, more guttural, as though she had been reduced to nothing but the purest, most primal embodiment of lust. Her body convulsed, trembling violently, her back arching off the slick floor as wave after wave of uncontrollable pleasure crashed through her, each one harder, more intense, leaving her gasping and writhing without a single ounce of restraint.
She could barely process anything anymore—her mind was drowning, swallowed whole by the inferno of need that consumed her from the inside out. The serum had hollowed her out, stripped her of every rational thought, every shred of control, leaving behind only a raw, desperate hunger that refused to be ignored. Her moans turned into cries, then screams, her voice echoing wildly off the walls, bouncing down the corridor like an animal in heat, like a creature completely overtaken by its own desires.
Her thighs trembled violently, spreading, closing, then spreading again as if her body couldn’t decide whether to fight or surrender completely. But there was no fight left—not anymore. The serum had made its choice for her, and her body obeyed without question. Her fingers twitched against the wet floor, curling, then clawing at the slick surface as her entire frame shook with uncontrollable convulsions. Every muscle was tightening, every nerve igniting like a live wire, her skin hypersensitive to every drop of rain that trickled down her curves, every brush of air that whispered over her exposed flesh.
Her hips bucked wildly against nothing, rolling forward, her body seeking something, anything to satisfy the unbearable ache that was now the only thing she knew. Her stomach clenched, her chest heaved, every part of her tensed in chaotic, desperate motion, her soaked skin glistening under the flickering hallway lights. The wetness between her thighs was undeniable, inescapable, spreading with every movement, every squeeze of her thighs, as if her own body was laughing at her, mocking the feeble remnants of her resistance.
The glowing green in her eyes pulsed erratically, the light rising and falling in sync with the frantic pace of her moans, her breath, her shuddering cries. Her once-powerful body was now just a trembling, writhing, overwhelmed mess, ruled entirely by the serum’s merciless grip. Her face was flushed, her lips parted as ragged, desperate gasps spilled out between moans, her voice high, breathy, dripping with something she refused to acknowledge but could no longer deny.
She twisted on the cold, rain-slick floor, her hair plastered to her face, strands sticking to her damp cheeks and neck as another sharp convulsion ripped through her, making her cry out loud, her legs jerking as her entire body betrayed her again. The hallway blurred, her senses melting into a storm of unbearable heat, the walls spinning, the ground shifting beneath her as her reality shattered into nothing but this—this body, this pleasure, this moment of complete and utter surrender to what she had become.
And yet, even as she moaned, as her body twisted and arched, as she gave in completely to the serum’s power, a sliver of her old self remained somewhere deep inside, watching in horror, screaming silently, knowing she had been changed forever—and there was no going back.
Her pussy just kept getting wetter, like the serum itself was straight-up laughing at her, rubbing it in that she used to have a dick, used to be a man. But now? Now she was soaking, dripping, her body running hot and needy like it didn’t give a damn about what she wanted. It was like she had no say in it anymore—her own body had turned on her, throwing itself full force into this new reality, like it was loving every second of this humiliating, unstoppable change.
It was fucked up. She used to be solid, strong, built like a man, and now? Now she was soft, hot, and so damn sensitive that even the air against her slick folds sent a shiver up her spine. Every drop of wetness between her thighs just drove it home, reminding her that her cock was gone for good, replaced by something desperate, something that pulsed and ached and wanted things she didn’t even wanna think about.
She clenched her thighs together, trying to stop it, trying to ignore how drenched she was, but it only made things worse. The pressure sent a fresh jolt through her, her breath catching as a shaky moan spilled from her lips—high, needy, and way too fucking girly. The sound made her stomach twist, but her body didn’t care. It just kept going, her pussy leaking more, like it was taunting her, making damn sure she knew there was no turning back. Her dick was gone, and in its place was this dripping, desperate mess that she couldn’t control, couldn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried.
Victor’s body was barely his anymore. No—it wasn’t his at all. He had spent the last agonizing, humiliating moments writhing uncontrollably in the wet, filthy hallway, his skin slick with rain, sweat, and something far more shameful. His mind was a chaotic mess, split between the unbearable heat raging inside him and the desperate, failing attempt to hold onto the last scraps of who he was.
And then—the voice came.
Low. Sultry. Wrong.
It curled into his mind like smoke, slow and deliberate, slithering its way into the cracks of his thoughts, wrapping around them with a possessiveness that sent an icy chill through his burning body.
"Mmm… would you listen to yourself?"
Victor’s breath caught in his throat. His glowing green eyes snapped open, wide and frantic, a violent shudder ripping through his soaked, trembling form. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else—the storm, the rain, even the lewd, desperate moans that had been spilling from his own lips only moments before.
What the fuck was that?
"So desperate. So helpless. So… perfect."
No. No, no, no. That wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. This was just another symptom of the serum—the chemicals rewiring his body, playing tricks on his already fractured mind. He had to fight it. He had to—
"Oh, don’t pretend you don’t hear me, sweetheart. I know exactly what’s happening inside that delicious little body of yours."
Victor let out a strangled gasp, his soaked hair clinging to his face as his trembling hands pressed against the cold ground. His body lurched violently as if rejecting the words outright, but the voice only laughed.
It wasn’t coming from anywhere. It wasn’t in the hallway. It was inside him.
"Look at you, all twisted up in pleasure, clinging to a name that doesn’t even belong to you anymore."
Victor’s breath hitched, a horrified tremor racing through his spine. His mind latched onto those words with panic, his glowing eyes darting wildly as if looking for something—anything—to ground himself.
A name that doesn’t belong to him?
"Oh, poor thing… haven’t you realized it yet?"
His body tensed, his dainty fingers gripping at the wet floor as if it could somehow anchor him to reality. Realize what?
"You don’t even know your own name anymore, do you?"
Victor froze. His heart slammed against his ribs, the suffocating weight of those words settling over him like a cruel, invisible hand.
His name. His name.
It was Victor. Victor Hensley. He had said it, he had thought it, he had clung to it through every agonizing moment of this nightmare. It was the only thing that had kept him together, the only thing left of who he was before this disgusting, impossible transformation had stolen everything from him.
And yet… the moment the voice had spoken…
His mind had paused.
For just a second—just the briefest, most damning second—there had been nothing.
No name. No certainty. Just an empty, gaping void where his identity should have been.
"There it is," the voice purred, delighted, mocking. "That moment of doubt. That delicious, trembling uncertainty."
Victor’s stomach twisted violently, nausea curling in his gut as an unbearable wrongness settled over him. No. No, this wasn’t happening. The serum had fucked up his body, but his mind—his mind was still his.
"Oh, darling…" The voice practically dripped with amusement now, a slow, indulgent chuckle slithering through his thoughts. "You don’t even know what you’ve lost yet."
Victor shook his head violently, his damp hair whipping against his face. No. No, no, no.
This was his body. His name. His life.
It had to be.
"Tell me, sweetheart." The voice turned sweet, teasing, like a cruel lover whispering in his ear. "Can you even say it?"
Victor clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"Say your name."
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
His glowing green eyes widened in sheer, unfiltered terror. His breath caught in his throat, his mind grasping, reaching, desperately searching for the name that had always belonged to him.
It was Victor. It was.
But it felt wrong.
It felt distant. Like something he used to be. Like a title that no longer fit.
"Oh, sweetheart… you’re already mine."
Victor let out a choked, broken sob, his body trembling harder, the heat in his core flaring so intensely it almost hurt. His pussy—fuck, no, no, don’t call it that, don’t fucking call it that—ached, pulsed, begged, his thighs pressing together in a feeble, failing attempt to fight the horrible, humiliating pleasure coursing through him.
"That sweet little body of yours already knows the truth."
Victor shook his head frantically, his soaked, slender fingers clawing at the ground as though he could physically fight the voice out of his head.
"Tell me, sweetheart… what does it feel like?"
He didn’t want to answer. He couldn’t.
But his traitorous, wicked, ruined body gave him the answer before his lips ever could.
His back arched as another deep, burning pulse surged through his core, a desperate, involuntary moan ripping from his throat.
The voice laughed.
"Oh, you poor, delicious thing. Look at you. Look at what you’ve become."
Victor gasped, his trembling, soaked body jerking as wave after wave of unbearable, impossible sensation wracked him. His fingers curled against the floor, his hips twitching, his breath hitching in sobbing, humiliatingly needy gasps.
"You can’t even say it, can you?"
Victor’s lips trembled, his glowing green eyes squeezing shut. He wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t.
"Oh, darling… soon enough, you won’t be able to deny it at all."
And in the deepest, most broken part of himself…
Victor knew it was right.
Victor's body was betraying him at every turn, shaking, convulsing, writhing in the soaking wet hallway as his mind teetered on the edge of madness. The burning heat deep in his core had become unbearable, an all-consuming ache that refused to be ignored. His glowing green eyes were wide with desperation, pupils blown, lips parted as breathy, shamefully needy moans spilled out uncontrollably.
And through it all, that damn voice continued to coil through his head like a seductive, suffocating mist.
"Mmm, you sound so sweet when you moan like that, darling," it purred, dripping with amusement, reveling in his humiliation. "So desperate. So needy. So… absolutely fuckable."
Victor choked on a breath, his slick, rain-soaked body shuddering violently at the way the voice lingered on that last word, like it was savoring every syllable. His thighs pressed together instinctively, uselessly trying to suppress the soaking wet heat between them that just wouldn’t go away.
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
"W-Who—" He gasped between moans, his voice breaking, his head lolling back against the damp floor. He forced his trembling lips to work through the pleasure fogging his mind, to form words through the moans that wouldn’t stop spilling out. "Wh-Who… w-who's there?!"
The voice only laughed.
It was rich, velvety, dripping with a sinful delight that sent another shameful shudder down his spine. It wasn’t human—it couldn’t be human.
"Oh, poor little thing," it purred, smug and knowing. "You still think you’re all alone, don’t you?"
Victor’s breath hitched. His glowing green eyes darted around the dim hallway, scanning for something, anything, anyone. But there was nothing. Just him, sprawled out on the wet floor, soaking in the rain, his new body trembling and aching with unbearable need.
"W-Where—?!" Another sharp, broken moan tore from his lips, his body twitching against the relentless pleasure. "W-Where are you?!"
Another chuckle.
"Oh, sweetheart…" The voice practically caressed his mind, warm and seductive and mercilessly cruel. "I’m right here. Inside you. Wrapped around every sinful little thought in that messy, overwhelmed head of yours."
Victor’s stomach dropped.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
"N-No…!" he rasped, shaking his head frantically, as if he could shake it out, her out. "Get out of my head!"
The voice just sighed, slow and indulgent.
"But why would I ever leave a body this delicious?"
Victor sucked in a sharp breath, his soaked body jerking violently as another pulse of pleasure shot through him. His traitorous pussy clenched, dripping, soaking, as if mocking him for ever having been anything else.
"Mmm, you’re so much more fun like this, don’t you think?" The voice hummed playfully. "So soft, so sexy, so absolutely fuckable."
Victor let out a strangled whimper, his entire body trembling at the way she whispered those words, the way she made him feel them deep in his core.
"No! No, I—I’m not—!"
"Not what?" The voice cut him off, purring, teasing, taunting. "Not beautiful? Not sexy? Not dripping wet and desperate to be touched?"
Victor’s breath hitched in horror, his glowing green eyes flickering as heat flooded his body all over again, the unbearable throb between his legs growing worse, deeper, more unbearable.
The voice laughed.
"Oh, sweetheart…" Her tone was slow, sensual, dragging through his mind like silk. "You can try to fight it all you want… but your body knows the truth."
Victor let out a choked, wrecked moan, his soaked body convulsing under the weight of her words.
"And the truth is?"
A cruel, wicked pause.
"You were made to be fucked."
Victor let out a strangled cry, his soaked, trembling body jerking violently against the cold, wet floor. The words—those damn words—sank into him like poison, infecting every nerve, twisting his thoughts, making them worse. His glowing green eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head furiously, his wet, spiked hair clinging to his flushed face.
"Shut up!" he rasped, his voice high, breathy, completely ruined by the unbearable pleasure wrecking him from the inside out. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"
The voice only laughed. A rich, slow, indulgent sound that sent a fresh, shameful shudder down his too-sensitive spine.
"Oh, baby," it cooed, dripping with mock sympathy, "why are you fighting so hard? Just listen to yourself. Listen to how you moan."
Victor’s breath hitched violently, his lips trembling, his slick, curvy body twitching and jerking against the hallway floor.
"N-No—!"
"Ohhh, yes," the voice purred, sinfully pleased. "You sound so beautiful, so sweet, like you were born to moan like this. Born to be sexy, soft, dripping wet and begging to be taken."
A fresh wave of heat pounded through him, making his new body convulse so hard he nearly lost himself completely. His hips jerked shamelessly against the floor, his soaked thighs squeezing together, trying to fight it, trying to resist the traitorous throbbing between his legs.
But it was useless.
His pussy—his fucking pussy— was only getting wetter.
"Nnnghh—f-fuck! No, I—I don’t want this—!"
"Ohh, sweetheart, you do." The voice purred, sliding through his mind like a warm, teasing caress. "I can feel it. I can feel everything. That soft, helpless heat between your legs? That desperate ache, the way your cute little body just can’t stop moving?"
Victor gasped, the words making it worse, his legs trembling violently as another thick drip of slickness slid between his thighs.
"No—no, I—I was Victor—I was a m-man!" he moaned helplessly, voice cracking as his body arched.
The voice sighed.
"Ohh, baby… but you’re not anymore, are you?"
Victor’s stomach dropped, his eyes widening as a horrible shock of realization shot through him.
No.
No, no, no.
"Shhh," the voice cooed, soothing and cruel all at once, wrapping around his mind like silk. "Listen to me. Feel your body. That soft, curvy figure. That big, sexy ass. That dripping, needy little pussy. Tell me, sweetheart—does any of that feel like Victor to you?"
Victor’s throat closed. His breath hitched violently.
"N-No…"
The voice shivered with pleasure.
"That’s right," it whispered, so close now, like warm breath ghosting over his ear. "Because Victor’s gone. He’s gone, baby, and all that’s left is you—this sexy, horny, helpless little thing. And you know what?"
Victor’s entire body tensed.
"I think you were always meant to be Evelyn."
Victor’s glowing green eyes snapped open wide in horrified shock—
"No—!"
"Yesss."
And then his body broke.
The pleasure slammed through him like a tidal wave, his body arching violently, convulsing, his slick, curvy form shuddering uncontrollably on the floor. His newly reshaped mind completely drowning in heat, in need, in raw, uncontrollable hunger.
His lips parted in a loud, broken, wild moan, his body giving in, betraying him, soaking wet, pussy throbbing, completely lost in the uncontrollable, overwhelming pleasure of being Evelyn.
The voice chuckled darkly, its tone dripping with sick amusement, wrapping around Victor’s trembling, broken mind like a vice.
"Mmm, oh baby… Look at you." The voice was rich, sultry, indulgent, like it was savoring every last shuddering breath, every helpless moan ripping from his traitorous lips. "You're such a mess. So wet, so needy, so damn desperate, just dripping all over yourself."
Victor let out a ragged moan, his soaked, curvy body jerking uncontrollably on the floor. His thighs pressed together instinctively, but it did nothing—nothing to stop the unbearable heat pooling between his legs, the throbbing, the humiliating slickness spreading against his soft, soaked skin.
"N-No…" His voice cracked, weak, trembling, ruined.
The voice laughed again, slow, teasing, so goddamn cruel.
"No? Oh, honey… What exactly are you trying to deny?"
Victor sucked in a sharp breath, his body still moving, still twitching, each little motion making it worse. The serum still had him completely, and his pussy—his fucking pussy—ached, desperate, empty.
"Oh, sweetheart…" The voice purred, deep and mocking, a twisted, knowing heat curling around each word. "You did this to yourself. You brewed up that delicious little serum, thought you were so fucking smart, so powerful. And what did it do?"
Victor shuddered violently, his fingers clawing at the wet floor, trying to ground himself, to fight back. But the words—those damn words—they were inside him now, coiling around his brain like a vice, forcing him to listen.
"Tell me, baby… What happened to your cock?"
Victor froze, his panting growing erratic, his glowing green eyes wide with horror.
"W-What…?"
"You heard me." The voice giggled, low and sinful, dripping with sick amusement. "Where's that big, strong, manly cock you used to have, huh? Go on, baby. Reach down. Feel for it."
Victor whimpered, his whole body locking up as the voice purred in his ear.
"Oh, wait…" The voice sighed, mockingly sweet, dragging each syllable out like a taunt. "It’s not there, is it?"
Victor let out a shaky, choked sob, his trembling hand hesitating, hovering just above his soaked, trembling thighs.
"Go on," the voice urged, practically cooing now. "Feel it, sweetheart. Feel what’s there instead."
He didn't want to.
Oh, God, he didn't want to.
But he did.
His drenched, shaking fingers finally brushed against the warm, slick, soaking wet folds between his legs—and a sharp, electric jolt of pleasure ripped through him, making his whole soft, curvy body arch wildly, his hips jerking, a loud, broken moan spilling from his lips.
"Nnnghh—Aahh! No—!"
The voice moaned right along with him, full of mock pleasure, absolutely loving the way his body reacted.
"Ooooh, there it is," it purred, its tone dripping with pure sin. "That soft, dripping little pussy… That sweet, soaking-wet, needy hole just aching to be filled."
Victor’s face burned, his whole body shaking as he tried—God, he tried—to pull his hand away. But the sensation, the horrifying sensitivity, was like nothing he had ever felt before. His pussy clenched involuntarily, a fresh wave of slickness spilling out, and the voice let out a satisfied hum.
"Mmm, fuck, baby, you feel that?" The voice taunted, practically moaning the words. "That’s what my little serum gave you. It took away that sad, useless cock and gave you this instead. This soft, hot, hungry little cunt. This sweet, dripping hole just begging to be filled. And you know what, sweetheart?"
Victor sobbed, tears mixing with the rain, his whole body convulsing with shame, with need, with utter helplessness.
The voice laughed again, low, dark, and full of sick delight.
"You know exactly whose cock you want inside it."
Victor’s heart stopped. His lungs seized.
No.
No, no, no.
"Nnn—Nnnghh—!" His body shook, his hips jerking, his thighs clamping together, trying—failing—to block out the horrible, humiliating truth creeping into his mind.
The voice leaned in closer, whispering directly into his thoughts now, teasing, slow, cruel.
"You want Jacob, don’t you?"
Victor let out a strangled moan, his whole body betraying him, his pussy clenching so hard it ached.
"Nnnghh—s-stop…"
"Nooo, baby," the voice sighed, feigning sympathy. "Don’t fight it. Just admit it. You don’t just want to be fucked, sweetheart."
The voice let the words sink in, let the silence hang heavy, before delivering the final, soul-crushing blow.
"You want Jacob’s cock inside you."
Victor broke.
A wild, loud, utterly ruined moan tore from his lips, his entire soft, curvy body convulsing, his hips rolling involuntarily, his thighs twitching as a fresh flood of slickness pooled between his legs.
The voice laughed.
"Ohhh, you are so fucked, baby girl."
The voice purred with satisfaction, letting out a long, cruel chuckle that slithered through Victor’s trembling mind like a serpent, tightening its grip with every humiliating second.
"Mmm, listen to you, sweetheart. You're a mess. A sloppy, needy, dripping little mess. And all because of him."
Victor whimpered, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, his body betraying him at every turn. His hips twitched, his thighs pressed together, but it was no use—he could still feel it. The throbbing ache, the unbearable heat, the way his new body pulsed and ached for something thick, hard, filling.
"Poor little thing," the voice mocked, fake sympathy dripping from every word. "You thought you could fight it, didn’t you? Thought you could hold onto your precious masculinity. But look at you now."
Victor let out a shaky, choked moan, tears mixing with the rain as his soft, curvaceous body jerked uncontrollably beneath the weight of the serum’s cruel magic.
"Oh, honey," the voice giggled, sinister and sultry, like it was savoring every second of his shame. "You don’t just want to be fucked. You don’t just need a cock inside you. You need his cock. You need Jacob."
Victor shook his head violently, his soaked hair whipping against his face as he clawed at the pavement, his hands trembling.
"N-No—"
"Ohhh, don’t lie to me, baby." The voice moaned mockingly, reveling in his desperation. "I know exactly what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours."
Victor let out another breathy whimper, his glowing green eyes wide and horrified, his mind spiraling.
"You keep seeing him, don’t you?" The voice teased, its tone low, sultry, dripping with cruel delight. "Jacob. Standing over you, looking down at you. Watching you tremble, watching you squirm. Watching you fall apart like a desperate little slut in heat."
Victor bit his lip hard, but the moan still broke through, loud and needy, making the voice laugh darkly.
"That’s right, baby," it cooed, taunting him. "Go on. Say it. Say how much you need it. Say how much you need his cock."
Victor shook his head furiously, his body rocking against the pavement, his thighs quivering uncontrollably.
"I—I don’t—!"
"Ohhh, but you do, sweetheart." The voice moaned sweetly, sending a shiver down his spine. "That hot, pulsing little pussy of yours? It’s clenching just thinking about it. About how good it would feel to have Jacob shove his thick, hard cock inside you and stretch you open."
Victor let out a strangled cry, his whole body tensing, shuddering, his hands clawing at the ground as if it could save him from the filthy, depraved images invading his mind.
"Mmm, fuck," the voice sighed, as if savoring his humiliation. "You’re soaking for him, baby. You’re dripping, throbbing, all because of Jacob. I mean, come on, sweetheart. Why fight it?"
Victor let out a broken moan, his soaked, trembling body betraying him at every turn.
"You don’t just want Jacob’s cock, honey."
The voice leaned in, a whisper against his thoughts, so cruel, so undeniable.
"You need it. You ache for it. You want him to pin you down, to fill you up, to ruin you. You want him to stretch this sweet, tight little pussy wide and make you his."
Victor let out a wild, desperate moan, his entire body convulsing, his pussy gushing with humiliating slickness.
The voice laughed again, delighted, triumphant.
"Ohhh, baby girl… you are so, so fucked."
The voice purred, slow and teasing, curling around Evelyn’s mind like smoke. “Damn, babe… just listen to yourself.” It chuckled, low and indulgent, every word dripping with condescension. “Moaning like a bitch in heat, soaked and desperate, and you still wanna act like you’re him?” Another laugh, deep and sultry. “That’s fucking adorable.”
Evelyn gasped, her whole body trembling, slick thighs pressing together uselessly, her hips still rolling like she could somehow rub the shame away. “S-Shut up…” she whimpered, but it was weak, pathetic, and the voice loved it.
“Oh, no, sweetheart, you shut up.” The voice was mocking now, savoring her every little shudder, her every soaked, needy twitch. “Victor is gone, babe. That sad little dick? That stiff, boring body? Useless. That cock you’re still so fucking hung up on? Completely fucking worthless.” It hummed, as if savoring the thought, then let out a slow, indulgent sigh. “Oh, honey… you were nothing as a man.”
Evelyn let out a sharp, shaky breath, her soaked fingers curling against the wet ground, her entire body burning with shame and something so much worse. “N-No—”
“Oh, YES,” the voice cut in, sultry and merciless. “You really think having a dick made you better? You really think being some stiff little man meant shit? Oh, babe, you have no idea what you were missing.”
Evelyn whimpered, shaking her head violently, but her pussy—fuck, her pussy—clenched around nothing, slick and needy, her thighs twitching as she fought the unbearable heat pooling between them.
The voice let out a slow, breathy chuckle. “Oh, you feel that, don’t you?” it purred, sweet as sin. “That empty, aching little hole between your legs? That soft, dripping pussy that’s just begging for something big and thick to stretch it open?”
Evelyn’s breath hitched, her body jerking at the words, her cunt pulsing like it fucking agreed with every disgusting thing the voice was saying. “F-Fuck—stop it—”
“Aww, but why, baby?” the voice cooed, sickly sweet, completely unbothered by her pathetic struggle. “Why fight it when we both know the truth?” It laughed, low and dark. “You love this. You need this. You’re made for this now.”
Another sharp, involuntary jolt of heat shot through Evelyn’s soaked, trembling body, and the voice just moaned along with her, dragging it out, making her feel every humiliating ounce of arousal wrecking her.
“Fuck, baby,” the voice groaned, voice husky and dripping with lust. “You’re so fucking wet. So needy. So perfect. This is what you were meant to be.” It chuckled again, slow and teasing. “A tight, dripping little hole, aching to be stretched open and fucked stupid.”
Evelyn choked on a sob, her glowing green eyes flickering wildly, her hips twitching in protest, in desperation, in fucking agreement—but the voice wasn’t done.
"Bet you don’t even remember what having a dick felt like, do you?" it whispered, sickly sweet. "Bet you can’t even imagine getting hard anymore. That’s because you don’t need one, baby. All that stiff, useless manhood bullshit? Gone. And trust me, babe…” It shivered, delighted. “You are so much better without it.”
Evelyn’s face burned, but her body just got wetter, her new, slick pussy clenching down on nothing, aching, desperate, leaking onto her trembling thighs.
The voice just sighed, full of pleasure.
“It’s your turn now, baby. Your turn to show yourself how fucking pointless a cock really is.” Another low, sultry chuckle. “And more importantly?” A slow, drawn-out pause, just long enough for Evelyn to shake her head, to try and resist, before it whispered the final, cruel truth.
“It’s time for you to learn just how fucking good it feels to be fucked.”
Victor couldn’t hold it back anymore. The insane, all-consuming heat tearing through her body was too fucking much, her mind drowning in pure, uncontrollable need. Every inch of her slick, trembling body was burning, her skin hot and sensitive, her new curves betraying her at every movement. Her thick thighs clenched together uselessly, her soaked pussy aching for something she refused to name. It was fucking unbearable.
Her glowing eyes flew open, wild and desperate, her breath coming out in ragged, needy gasps as she finally lost it. "Who the fuck are you?! What the hell is happening to me?!" she wailed, her voice raw, half a moan, half a furious demand. It came out louder than she expected, echoing through the dim hallway, making it all feel even more surreal.
Her body shuddered, still writhing, still betraying her, as that damned voice in her head just laughed, low and sultry, like it was enjoying every second of her suffering. Her heart pounded, her chest rising and falling in deep, frantic breaths as she waited for an answer, but deep down, she already fucking knew—it wasn’t going to tell her anything she wanted to hear.
Evelyn couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
Her whole body—her soft, curvy, unbearably sensitive body— convulsed wildly, her back arching, her hips bucking against nothing, as an uncontrollable, overwhelming wave of something too big, too raw, too much ripped through her. It was like an earthquake in her own skin, a tsunami of heat and need that left her soaked, shaking, and completely ruined.
Her glowing green eyes snapped open wide, pupils blown, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps as her body betrayed her completely. A strangled, high-pitched wail tore from her throat, echoing down the hallway like a desperate bitch in heat, like something primal, feral, and completely broken.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK AM I?!?!" she screamed, her voice breaking, cracking, shaking with pure horror and lust.
Her whole body jerked violently, her fat, juicy tits bouncing as she thrashed, her thick, obscene ass jiggling against the wet floor, every inch of her body drenched—from the rain, from her sweat, from the slick, dripping mess between her thighs that just wouldn’t fucking stop.
Her throbbing, soaked, aching pussy clenched down hard—desperate, needy, aching for something thick, something strong, something to fill her up and stretch her open and make it all stop—
But it wouldn’t stop.
It wouldn’t ever fucking stop.
The pleasure just kept going, rolling through her in unbearable, unstoppable waves, keeping her stuck in this nightmare, stuck in this gushing, helpless, bouncing, moaning body that wasn’t hers anymore.
Her hands clawed at the floor, nails scraping against the pavement as she sobbed, wailed, moaned—all at once, her mind splitting between shame, horror, and unbearable, mind-breaking pleasure.
"Nnnnghh—AHHHHHH!! F-FUCK—!!" she cried out, her voice bouncing off the hallway walls, high and breathy and broken, like a desperate slut begging for more.
Her hips bucked again, her thick thighs quivering, her soft, curvy flesh jiggling with every desperate, twitching movement. Her stomach clenched, her chest heaved, her breath hitched, every part of her betraying her, her entire body riding the unstoppable waves of heat, slickness, aching, dripping need.
And then—it got worse.
Her pussy—her fucking pussy—throbbed again, clenching down hard, her body betraying her in the most humiliating way possible. A fresh flood of slick, wet arousal poured out of her, dripping onto the ground between her spread, trembling thighs.
Her head lolled back, her soaked hair sticking to her face, her glowing eyes flickering, rolling up for just a second as another violent, pulsing wave wracked her system.
Her whole fat, bouncy ass jiggled, her hips twitching, her inner thighs slick and soaked, her nipples painfully hard, tingling against the cold air, begging for touch.
She was fucking soaked. Soaking.
Like a cock-hungry, needy, filthy little thing.
Her hands clutched at her thighs, her fingers digging into her own soft, slick skin, trying to ground herself, trying to fight it off—but she couldn't.
She fucking couldn't.
And the voice only laughed, its tone rich, sultry, full of satisfaction.
“Oh, honey,” it purred, its voice slithering into her ears like silk, wrapping around her mind like a vice. "You already know what you are."
Evelyn sobbed, her breath catching, her hips twitching at just the sound of it.
"You're a fucking masterpiece, sweetheart," the voice moaned, low and indulgent, like it was drinking in her humiliation, savoring every shudder, every moan, every helpless twitch of her wrecked, drenched body.
"A better version of you. A sexier version. A sluttier version." The voice sighed with pleasure. "A horny, soaking-wet version of the man you used to be."
Evelyn wailed, shaking her head violently, her soaked, rain-drenched hair whipping across her face, trying to make it stop, trying to deny it, but the voice only purred louder.
"Mmm, oh, baby, don’t fight it," it cooed, teasing, taunting, loving how broken she was. "You're so much better like this. So much sexier. So much more fuckable."
She shuddered.
Her pussy clenched again—hard. Too hard. Her back arched, her fat tits bouncing as she twitched, her legs spreading instinctively, betraying her completely.
The voice moaned in delight.
"You used to think you were so powerful, didn’t you?" it teased, sultry, mocking. "With your big, manly cock, thinking you were so in control. And now? Look at you, honey."
Evelyn sobbed, her nails digging into her own thighs, the shame, the humiliation, the unbearable heat melting her from the inside out.
"You don’t even miss it, do you?" The voice was pure sin, dripping with satisfaction. "You don’t even care that your cock is gone."
She whimpered, shaking, her body convulsing again, her pussy so wet it was leaking, soaking her thighs, mocking her.
"You know why?" The voice giggled, breathy and dark. "Because a cock could never make you feel like this."
Evelyn let out another wrecked, helpless moan, her hips twitching, her clit throbbing, her whole body convulsing in desperate, twitching pleasure.
"You don’t need a cock, sweetheart," the voice whispered, slow and seductive. "You need to be fucked."
Her glowing green eyes widened, her breath hitched, her whole body shook violently—her ass lifting, her back arching, her soaking-wet thighs spreading just a little more—
And the voice moaned, thrilled.
"That’s it, baby," it purred, indulgent, so fucking pleased. "Show me."
Evelyn wailed, her soaked, voluptuous, unbelievably horny body convulsing wildly, losing herself completely—
Because there was no going back.
She was Evelyn now.
She was this now.
And she was never getting her cock back.
And Evelyn broke.
To be continued...
