You're shivering. Chet's cock seems to fill your vision, and you're not cold, but you're shivering. Or is that trembling? Is this really going to be your fate? To let this spoiled man-child impregnate you and fulfill your curse, making you not only a woman forever but also his slave?
His... slave?
...
...
Wait a minute. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Wait.
"Wait," you say.
"No waiting," Chet says. He thrusts his hips twice, making his cock bounce lightly against your lips. "Start sucking."
Your male self is still there, watching with dread. Your female self still desperately wants to be taken and bred. But something's wrong, here. Something. Something Chet said earlier today, at the frat house, doesn't make any...
You look up at him. "What do you mean, you did some digging into my curse?" you ask.
He blinks, clearly nonplussed. Then impatience settles in on top of his uncertainty. "The fuck are you talking about?"
You scoot back to where his dick is no longer in your face, twist your hands out of the belt he's tied them together with, and you stand up. The belt drops to the floor. And all at once, everything comes together. The sense of duality in your thoughts vanishes like a pricked soap bubble. You feel incredibly turned on, and you're disgusted with yourself for feeling like that. You want Chet and you hate him. You want to kill him, and you want him to take you, and none of it is divided. In this moment, there isn't a male you or a female you. There's just you. "Earlier today, at the frat house, you said you did some digging into my curse." You furrow your brow. "What do you mean, did some digging? What, is someone running an 'all about 's curse' wiki? That's not the kind of thing you can google, Chet."
Anger isn't washing away your arousal, but it is changing it. Coloring it.
His face flushes red with anger, and it suddenly occurs to you that he's a college football player, and built like it, and you wouldn't be any match for him even in your male form. "I can't help but notice that you're not sucking my cock like I asked you to, ."
Aroused you might be, but in this moment of crystalline clarity, the arousal and the submissive need inside you that seemed all-consuming and overwhelming, a force of nature that you could never in a million years hope to resist... is just a feeling. Like being hot or cold.
Why did you believe him so easily? You can't remember. You're pretty sure he could snap you like a twig, and the potential for violence or something worse hangs in the air like thick smoke, but you sneer at him nonetheless. "You're full of shit," you tell him. "And I can't believe I fell for it." I. You. You're . You're...
Damn it. You can feel the sense of clarity starting to bleed away, your thoughts beginning to divide into what you, in this state, know to be a lie: the false duality of your male self and your female self.
No. No.
NO. |