The Coded Feminine: Pt. 01

The following story is the first part of a short series.

It takes place in the very near future when we can see the consequences of societal shifts we are living through right now. Perhaps our real future will look somewhat like this?

All characters are meant to be adults.

(Protip: If you copy paste into a word file you can have this story in audiobook version. ;) )

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Every day I go out to find work.

Every day I run past them, more and more of them: short dresses, colorful accessories and painted faces; eyes glossed over in supplicant, lustful expressions.

Turning a corner, I feel another soft pang of hunger.

I try to turn my thoughts inwards, distracting me from that ever-present feeling: Remembering a time not so long ago, when a history teacher was giving a lecture to a younger and yet more rounded version of me.

"You see children..."

The teacher started, displaying a painting of a large kingly figure, dressed in noble regalia, on the large screen at the front of the classroom.

"The jewels and elaborate tunics are not the only status symbols that one can have. In the medieval ages for example, it used to be so difficult to get an abundance of food that even what we might today call fat, was once a great symbol of power."

Frustration washed over me:

"Not even in my memories can I escape this cursed hunger."

A bus stopped in front of me, blocking my path forward. As the door opened, I saw how the driverless bus disgorged its passengers: a motley group of people, all quite lithe. Some more streetwalkers just like the ones I saw before, and a few men, skinny and with gaunt appearance.

The five or so men grouped up and began walking in my intended direction. Upon joining them I realized I must look just as malnourished and ragged as the others.

Fifteen minutes later I was in a sort of empty parking lot waiting with other twenty people in several states of desperation. The thing was fairly simple, we stood there, making ourselves available to fulfill any odd job or manual labor. When we had work, we ate; and yesterday I stood there for nothing.

An hour or so later, a car came by. An industrial looking minivan. It opened its door and a robotic voice inside called out loudly:

"Five men."

After a quick two minute hustle and shoving to fight for my place I managed to get inside the driverless vehicle. A bruised cheek, seemed to be worth having enough to eat today and tomorrow.

The car drove us for almost two hours, and we ended up inside a large sprawling villa, with a large pool area and garden.

The doors opened near a back entrance where the field was clearly not so well taken care of.

A redheaded maid received us as we stepped out. Fully dressed in traditional French styled uniform. In a soft monotone voice, she explained our work. And we then spent the next five hours on our knees, ripping weeds by hand under that summer sun.

As the day turned to afternoon I started to take notice of the going ons of this mansion:

A very wealthy family lived here, and surrounded not only by the standard cadre of robotic assistants but also by a very particular style of servants. All female, all beautiful, all dressed in those tight fitting uniforms and sporting beautiful jeweled collars locked around their necks.

The lord of the house seemed a quite old man, mostly bored of the stimuli and simply busy with his work or enjoying the simpler pleasures that his life commanded. The lady was much taller and at least fifteen or twenty years younger than him and had always two or three maids trailing behind her. She seemed to take pleasure in scolding and bullying the smallest maid: a tiny Asian thing with long black hair, that looked always one step away from bawling.

It was almost time to finish when one of the sons came out, followed by an entourage of four women. Not maids. Dressed in tightly fitting dresses and sporting tall heels and colorful hairstyles.

Whores.

He took all of them to the parking lot and gave each a swipe up in the air, the gesture for electronically transferring funds. Then left them alone to wait for their ride.

They were talking amongst themselves as they waited. I found myself staring at one in particular:

A pink haired beauty. Long hair with waves and volume that fell to the edge of her white skirt. Black latex stockings and white heels. A tube top that almost didn't manage to contain the huge perked-up breast that hung from her. Her long fake lashes batting up and down as she stared around the yard, and then fixated on me.

"She is looking at me!"

I drove my eyes down to my work, but as I glimpsed her, I found her still staring and now she was even smiling.

I saw her taking her cellphone out from her purse and pointing his eyes at me again. I was shocked and mesmerized by her beautiful big blue eyes framed by unnaturally long black lashes. Then a hum in my pants spooked me out of my daze.

I fumbled around to take my phone from my pocket.

When I managed to lift my gaze back at her, I saw her turning and then getting into the car. As she turned around her wide pear shaped hips mesmerized me again, and as she lifted her foot on to the vehicle, I caught a glimpse of that gap where the stockings ended to reveal that delicious pale skin.

I was transfixed.

After watching the car start to leave the villa I turned my attention back to my phone.

"Come visit me when you get out of here. ;)" It said.

She had followed the message with the location pin of an apartment complex not far from my own.

My heart raced. And I couldn't understand why.

Sure, this was a particularly beautiful woman. But she was a whore, this message was just advertising... "Right?"

I tried to remember how I felt about the sea of streetwalkers that stood around my neighborhood, none of them caught my attention for more than a few seconds. And I had never even considered renting time with any of them.

But she was different. Why?

There was something about her, I couldn't figure out what. She made me feel strange, even if she was the prostitute in sexualized attire lowest of the low in the social hierarchy. That Look she gave me: a distilled desire, intense and willful. That look made me feel as if in her eyes I was the one being objectified, being the one lusted after. She was the hunter, and I was the prey.

I realized that I loved those eyes.

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The pay didn't end up being too bad for all that work, and together with the lunch the employer offered, it ended up being a pretty good day overall. But, during those two hours in the car driving us back to the city, I couldn't stop thinking about her.

The cognitive dissonance between that doll-like face and the glare of a hungry hunter.

I started to remember more and more details about her:

Even thou she was dressed as a sweet little object, her nails were sharp like claws.

Even if her waist was tiny and fragile, her thighs were strong and toned.

Even her face, although looking like a doll under those pink bangs and long lashes, had a wide angular jaw and a perverse Machiavellian smile.

She was a walking contradiction, luring me in with her sweet promises just to then pounce and devour me when I was close enough.

It was so difficult to find reasons to say "no" to that image in my head.

By the time I stepped back into that empty parking lot, I had made my decision: I was going to give my hard earned money to that whore, going to sleep without eating wouldn't be so bad if I could kiss those beautiful pink lips, and be seen once more by those intense blue eyes.

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After a quick shower and some fresh clothes, I was standing now where that pin had sent me: An apartment building just like my own, grey concrete walls and simple numbers on the close together doors.

Her seventh-floor apartment door had a little pink and light blue kitty sticker next to the "723" number. I stared at it for a few seconds before gathering my will into knocking at that door.

"Why was I so drawn to her? What made me do this?"

I could hear heeled footsteps coming towards the door, realizing then that I had without thinking already rung the doorbell.

A click and a slightly rusty swing later, and I was standing just a few breaths away from her.

Beautiful as I had seen her that last time, but now looking a lot taller and more powerful: The tight pencil dress she was wearing was gone, in its place only a skintight mesh covered her body from ankles to wrists. Beautiful patterns sown into the laced fabric that only grew dense as it reached her nipples and her crotch were it became a solid black fabric covering what was below.

The jet black lace framing and accentuating every curve of her pale white body.

I was stunned, breathless.

She simply grinned and, with childlike enthusiasm, beckoned me in: "I'm so happy you came! I was worried I might have gotten dressed up for nothing."

She took a step back leading me inside and I took a tentative step forward, unable to take my sight away from that gorgeous being: The skintight lace was perfectly molded to her thin, beautiful body. That small waist that curved outwards into a perfectly round pear-shaped butt, those big perky breasts that seemed to defy gravity.

I tried to contain my lust and take my sight upwards towards her face. But I couldn't find a reprieve there either: Her already large piercing blue eyes were enhanced tenfold by long black lashes and thick eyeshadow, her lips were thick and soft, moistened with delicious smelling gloss and bright red lipstick.

I couldn't help but imagining them wrapped around my cock leaving bright red stains at the base with every thrust.

She reached out to me with those long black talon-like nails and gripped me by the collar of my shirt. Pulling me softly forwards. I followed her motion, and allowed myself to be led to wherever she wanted me.

Her apartment was slightly larger than mine, but not by much. And the few furniture she had, clearly had the express purpose of being props for her job.

She sat me down on a small red leather ottoman, shaped and contoured with luxurious looking curves.

When looking up at her from this very low seat I felt a little bit like a child looking at a grown woman for the first time. Towering over me with those heels, her large breast hanging over my head and shadowing me under her silhouette.

It was then that I paid attention to her heels: Matching that bright red lipstick and lifting her at least ten inches from the ground. Bright shiny material enclosed those platform stilettos. Impossibly tall and thin, and yet she moved on them as if she was born to them.

This woman was impressive, all her features evoked the power and lust she commanded. The price she must charge her clients.

Her hands lazily moved over her body, tracing the silhouette of her curves. The rounded breasts, the thin waist, those wide hips... that large... bulge.

I was nudged some degrees away from that hazy road my mind was following.

"Bulge?"

I followed the line down from her belly button once more and sure enough, covered by that dark fabric was a growing, large, bulge. Barely constrained now as the silhouette of a bent cock peered through the thinning fabric.

I looked up at her eyes. Begging for an answer to that unspoken question poking out at my eyelevel.

"Oh..." she sighed softly. And bent over, closing the space between us until she was speaking directly in my ear.

She giggled sweetly and then whispered: "My sweet little boy... you thought you were going to be doing the fucking."

My eyes widened as she pulled back to a standing position and started to push her thumbs by the sides of the lace, lowering the solid fabric and starting to pull her cock through an opening in the lace just above her crotch.

"There is no way an inferior little boy like you... could ever afford to fuck me." She said as she laughed mockingly.

"But I will give you a great discount today. If only because you are the one getting fucked." She said, finally releasing her cock from the constraints of the dress.

A large uncut cock, with the same pale color of her skin, but glossy as if it had been dipped in oil sprung forth and now throbbed a couple of inches away from my face. Menacingly commanding to be worshipped.

In my mind's eye I knew that she was much larger than I was.

Something inside my mind twisted, and I sensed a great pull towards it. Powerful and intrusive as the urge to jump upon seeing a ledge. But so much more attractive.

Her voice laced those thoughts with honey. "You are going to pay me for the privilege of sucking my cock."

If I was not already seating down, I would have probably fallen to my knees upon hearing that.

The smell coming from it was sweet and floral, and the clear drop of precum hanging from that pale pink head made it look like the tastiest thing in the universe.

My mind raced as half lust-drunk logic reasoned away all doubts.

"Who cares about being straight or gay... inside this room where no one else can see us."

In that moment, looking over the edge of it I lingered in silence. She wouldn't say anything more, she knew she didn't need to. The commanding presence so close to my face was enough. The longer I stared, the more spit built up inside my mouth.

The pressure of its presence finally caved in my resolve. No longer was I above this whore in the social hierarchy, we were not even equal as human beings. I was far below her, inferior in strength and will.

Only surrender was left.

I loved it.

I opened my mouth, a long trail of spit drooling away as soon as my lips parted. I reached for that taste.

She pulled back.

I nearly fell forwards as I caught only air. My mouth gaped and drooling as my tongue lolled out. My eyes widened in surprise.

"What an eager little boy, I knew you were a good choice... but I'm a whore and you have to pay me first for the pleasure of worshiping my cock." She smiled devilishly.

I fumbled. Shame and humiliation brought me back from that lust filled state and my mouth finally closed. But now I felt the social pressure, the power of a deal made with the devil, I couldn't turn back.

I didn't want to turn away from her.

I moved my right hand to my back pocket and pulled out the wad of cash that I had been paid with. Every single cent I possessed.

I heard her take two steps back once more.

I lifted my hand and offered it to her pleading; it wasn't that much at all. Just a day's pay for menial work.

She shook her head side to side slowly.

"No..."

My heart sunk. I thought:

"Was this really not enough money to even suck her dick?"

But then she opened her mouth and curled her face into a perverse expression.

"If you are going to worship me, you better deliver me that cash, like what you are....

My bitch."

She raised one of her talons at her own beautiful thick lips mimicking what she wanted of me.

"Put it in your mouth and bring it over like a good little dog."

My own cock strained at the words, the humiliation shot pure pleasure all the way up my body.

They were not new bills, and then had been further soiled by my dirt covered hands. But I didn't hesitate to bite down on that cash and then fall to my hands and knees and slowly crawl towards her.

Her pleased laughter served as my reward. The more she pulled me in the more I loved following her commands.

By the time I reached her feet I had crawled over four meters. She was always taking a few steps back as I was just about to reach her.

When she stopped, she said:

"Good boy. Now, up! Beg!"

For a moment I felt almost as stupid as a dog, and nearly cocked my head to one side, trying to comprehend my new mistress's command. Then I remembered what I had seen in porn and simply lifted myself on my knees slightly and assumed a posture that was close enough to what was required.

She laughed once more and clapped childishly.

"Good boy! You'll be a very good little bitch."

More and more I felt my mental state sinking into that space full of submission and empty of consequences.

She took the cash from my mouth and then immediately pressed her cock against the entrance of my lips.

My whole mind suddenly was on that cock. Nothing else in that room, or in the world mattered. I opened my lips and felt the head sliding inside, the foreskin sliding back and allowing my tongue to feel the ridge at the back of her glans. Her salty taste of precum destroying all semblance of rational thought from my head.

I was no longer myself. My past ceased to be, and my future didn't matter, all that mattered was the texture of her skin and the feel of that cock. My hands moved to caress her shaft, oily and smooth upon my fingers, they started to roll over the skin untouched by my lips that now moved past the head and as far as they could down that shaft.

I continued working on that ivory tower and then my mind drifted from the textures and tastes to the sounds: Her sweet soft girly moans of pleasure, the sloshing and popping sounds my mouth and hands were making. Soon I heard a few gagging noises rising from my throat as I attempted to push more of her meat inside.

I was determined to worship that whore with the whole of my being.

The pressure on the back of my throat soon turned to pain, as my inexperienced organ wasn't acquainted with its new role as a sexual object.

I ignored the pain, the gagging sensation, the thick spit and large tears building up in my mouth end eyes.

Her soft hands laid themselves on the sides of my head and started to control my rhythm, forcing ever deeper depths upon my throat and deafening the outside world as they covered my ears.

More and more new sensations flooded my mind: The thickness of that head as it rolled past the entrance of my throat, the deafening pain as my tissues stretch attempting to accommodate its girth.

Where before my mind focused on what my lips and tongue felt, now my whole mind was in the ring of flesh at the gate to my throat. More and more of my focus was in the relaxation of those muscles, the surrendering of my organs in service of the pleasure of that stranger.

Her hands covering my ears only helped to further turn my mind inwards, focusing on those most primal of sensations.

Soon all I could hear was my gasps for air, or my gags and spits on that cock. My willpower sapped by her strength of character. I was gagging and choking on that cock and my oxygen starved brain couldn't think of anything else but her cum.

All my efforts were for that seemingly distant goal: receiving her cum.

There was something about the idea of her cum that pushed me ever deeper into this submissive space.

She pushed me down deeper, the rhythm changing once more. When she pulled me up, I realized that it had gone further down my throat than anything I could have ever expected.

As it rose and started to move out of my mouth, I saw it coming out, and the distance and time it took for it to come out completely surprised me. When it finally exited my mouth, I felt and saw the long, thick trail of spit that now connected the back of my throat to that large, throbbing, pink head.

A loud gasp came up from my lungs and was instantly choked as she rammed herself back inside. Taking her sweet time as she pushed more and more of her meat against my ever more gaped hole.

I was being facefucked, there was no choice, no will, no art upon which I worked. I was only flesh for her to use.

And I loved it.

She rammed my head down once more and I felt the soft skin of her crotch pressed on my nose, her balls slapping on my chin.

My hands barely holding on to her thighs, attempting to keep me in balance.

When she pulled back, I opened my eyes and looked up through my tears. Her face was extasy and pleasure. A big "O" was drawn on her thick, plush lips.

She convulsed.

I felt her whole body and shaft contract and then that head that laid on my tongue started to spit inside my mouth.

A thick massive load coated my insides. Its taste was strong, salty, pungent, and delicious.

I closed my eyes and focused on it, then raised the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth as her cock exited my lips. I readied myself to swallow it all.

Then I heard:

"Don't! Don't swallow it!"

Her voice was desperate, worried, another person altogether.

But I had already disobeyed that order. Her cum was already deep inside.

I closed my eyes, and nearly fainted.

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I looked up at her still in a daze, her expression would have been difficult to understand even being completely sober: "She looked afraid, or... guilty?" I wondered.

She sat down onto the chair, defeated and spent. While I stayed there kneeling, basking in the accomplishment of having gotten her to orgasm, but also more and more feeling the sinking sensation that I had made a terrible mistake.

...

"Do you want me to make you a sandwich?"

She said in the sweetest of voices.

"Eh... Sure...?"

I felt my stomach growling. Laying there on one of her couches as she recovered herself from orgasm on a larger black leather couch. She lifted herself off it and paced the short distance to the open kitchenette. I slowly reigned my mind back from that alien, cock-drunk state.

"What... what happened...?"

I asked. As much to myself as to the gorgeous thing standing in front of me.

She looked at me with pity in her face as she took soft bread from her pantry and some cheese.

"Well... you sucked my cock."

She giggled trying to deflect the subject with some humor.

I was struck by the reality of it.

I thought

"I had sucked a cock.... And I loved it!"

But then her words worried me.

"Don't swallow it!" she had said, with such desperate fear.

As she came towards me with a small, beautiful sandwich on a large black plate I asked more plainly:

"No... Why... why didn't you want me to swallow?"

I had still the aftertaste lingering in my mouth and the lustful feeling in my head.

"Eat your sandwich." She said.

I took a bite, feeling the nourishment replenish my soul, the aftertaste of cum erased by salt and sweet.

After the fourth bite she spoke again. Softly, and without looking me in the eye.

"Have you noticed how everyday there are more and more whores in the streets?"

I looked at her, my mouth still too full to speak. Of course I had noticed, everyone had. No news talked about it, but the streets were full of new girls every evening, and the bars and places where men gathered were growing always emptier.

She continued; my answer was not required:

"I don't understand it too well. I don't know if it is a virus, or something else... All I know it's that... it's not natural."

"You will start to feel it soon now. The changes." She said. Her voice grew stronger and more serious.

I swallowed my food and asked. "What changes, what are you talking about?"

She paused and bit her lips, then stared at me. Her intense blue eyes looking for the best way to explain the situation.

"The physical changes will end with you becoming something like me."

I stared at her face, lips, breasts, hips. That beautiful, sexual thing.

I whispered jokingly: "No way..."

I tried to laugh, but her face was dead serious. A spark of true fear flashed through my mind. "Was she serious?"

"There is something in me, in my spit, in my blood, but it's much more concentrated in my cum." She said. "That something is now inside you, and it will start slowly changing you."

I felt the first hint of panic. "Had I been infected with that something?!"

Then I asked, now in a much more serious tone than before.

"If you knew that you could infect me with that... Thing... Why did you do make me have sex with you?!"

She bit her lip and closed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry..." she said, her voice nearly cracking.

"I promised myself; I wouldn't do it again!"

She paused. I remained silent. Seeing this sexy woman, covered in that skintight lace and with such extravagant makeup, nearly to the point of tears; it was too surreal. For the first time since I had met her, she seemed human.

She opened her eyes, now filled with welling tears.

"The physical changes are dramatic. But... the mental changes are way worse."

I felt my pulse beating in my neck. I needed to know. "Please, tell me everything."

She sighed and attempted to compose herself:

"One exposure to our cum, is enough to get you infected. But the changes will be insidious and slow at first; The more you expose yourself however, the more you will be hooked, the faster you will turn, the more broken you will end up."

I thought about the possibility of swallowing her cum again and was surprised to find my mind longing at the prospect. I was tempted by it!

"You will start desiring more and more sissy cum and will become more and more desperate for it." She said.

Her words seemed prophetic.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

The suddenness of her question took me aback. "Ehh... no... not for a while..."

"Ok... good... that's good, at least..." she sighed, relieved.

"Why is that good?" I asked

"She won't have to see you turn." She said.

Doom in her words, as if she spoke from experience.

"It is very sad for the people that love you, to see you stripped of dignity and manhood."

I imagined what the families of the girls in the street must think. Surely that could not really be my fate.

Some desire twisted inside me, and I tried to twist it back into a manly thing. I wondered:

"Perhaps I should fuck one of those girls."

Her eyes seemed to read my mind.

"If you do try to have sex with a woman, I warn you. Even if you manage to get it up, you won't be able to cum."

She said, as if answering my question.

"And I am not talking far away in the future, I'm talking about right now; you will never cum inside a woman again."

"What the fuck?! That's not possible." I rebuked.

My ego hurt at the thought. Something inside my deepest reproductive instincts recoiled.

"Listen sweetheart. I'm sorry, but my cum is right now finding its way to your brain. Very soon all you'll be able to think about is cock and how to please it. This is a terrible virus and whoever designed it does not want us to be able to breed. Please believe me!" she said, nearly screaming.

"I'm happy that you don't have a girlfriend or wife. Your transition will be much smoother than mine. Please don't think that you can cure yourselves by having sex with a female, it will only bring you pain!"

She placed her soft fingers over the back of my hand. Her long black claws laying softly on my skin.

The panic was deadened by something else, a foreign calmness, a warm fog.

"Okay... I believe you. Please tell me what will happen to me."

She recognized the change in my mental state and her eyes widened.

"It's already inside your brain, I can see it working."

She frowned and bit her lip with shame; then said: "So fast..."

The spark of panic was much softer than before. A sword hung over my head, but I was too slow to see it, drunk inside that pink mist. With a hint of resignation, I repeated:

"Please, just tell me what is going to happen to me."

She then said.

"Like I told you. You'll desire our cum more and more, like an addict coming back to a life ending drug. It will become more and more addictive until you have gotten enough loads of that something inside us.

Your body will change face, height, ass, breasts. All of it will become your own flavor of sissy. The exact shape you will take nobody knows if it is tall, short, petite or voluptuous it can be anything. Some say it reflects our deepest desires, or perhaps our mind changes to reflect what our body changes into."

I imagined myself staring at an image in a mirror, a shapeless thing... and then a distinct silhouette, completely unrecognizable.

"And... my cock?"

I asked, thinking about how mine was perhaps less than average, but a hint of hope flashed that it could grow as strong and proud as hers.

She shrugged: "It can grow and become large like mine yes, or it can shrink into a useless vestige of what it once was. Nobody can predict what will happen to any particular sissy."

I pictured that possibility: a tiny nub without any balls to speak of, constantly leaking away what remnants of masculinity I once had.

The thought sent another alien rush of excitement through my body.

The foreign calmness once again reigned in my emotions.

"There is something I don't understand."

I started, she stared intently at me.

"You don't seem evil, and you seem to understand that forcing this upon an unknowing victim is not ok... Then why did you do this to me?"

A soft heartwarming smile formed in those plush lips. Then she winced, almost in pain.

"I.... I hope I'm not a bad person." She sighed.

"I know what I will say it's not an excuse, but perhaps you will understand me.

If you saw the most beautiful woman in the world, and she would be ready to love you truly; could you resist?

When you finally become a full sissy, infected and corrupted through and through; something changes inside you again. And you stop caring completely about intaking sissy cum."

I looked at her. 'An infected and corrupted sissy...' She looked spectacular. Not corrupted or infected, but like a goddess willing to share a divine gift.

"There are two types of men..." she said.

"Superior men, not necessarily physically but almost always large and powerful. We know who they are because they make us sissies feel a certain way, just by looking at them.

After the change we become hopelessly attracted and submissive to them. The desperate urge to please them becomes even stronger than the former desire we had for sissy cum."

She looked up longingly and with love in her breath.

"I want to spend every second of my life, obeying them and doing exactly what they tell me."

Her posture changed slightly, and she stretched as a cat would stretch, with such feminine beauty. Something inside her mind was changing, and I recognized some of that pink mist falling over her head.

I felt jealousy at that moment. Knowing deep down that this longing desire would never be directed at me.

I wondered at how it would be, serving another man. Somewhat surprised to find myself still completely disgusted by the idea of kissing a real man.

"At least that's far from my present reality" I thought, relieved.

The jealousy grew again. Who decided I did not deserve to be loved like she loved those men? Who is to say I couldn't compete with those men?

"And then the rest... what am I?" I asked angrily: "An inferior man?"

"No..." she said.

In a much more confident tone, I could almost see hearts in her eyes. The mist was thick inside her head. Her voice reminded me of the way she was speaking back when she had first opened the door.

I was frozen once more; my arms and legs were like lead.

She lowered her eyes towards mine and dropped her now intense hunter glare on me. The pause in her silence lasted a whole eternity.

I gazed up at this goddess, falling more and more under her power and surrendering my resistance little by little with every breath. My pulse and breathing quickened and my body started to scream at me to run. Her claws were on me.

Her plush red lips parted once more and twisted into a crooked smile. Wet lips, shiny with lust and spit. She took a soft slow breath and then spoke.

"You are a failed man." She said.

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Once more I was at her feet.

My throat was sore and my eyes red with tears.

The slurping sounds had replaced all gagging as I grew more and more accustomed to suppressing those survival instincts that warded my throat against foreign advances.

"I really am sorry, my sweet little bitch..."

She was saying in that lustful voice, as my face was getting deeper and deeper into the rhythm of worship.

My mind had trouble comprehending the words:

"What is she sorry for? This is bliss."

Then slowly I remembered:

"Oh... right... she is doing something bad to me. She is slowly corrupting me."

Even thou my thoughts grew more and more coherent my head was moving on its own. No longer guided by her hands, I was simply facefucking myself, my own body betraying me into receiving another load of that line ending virus.

I felt a hard tug on the back of my hair. The shaft slowly exited my mouth, then finally the head had left my lips. I gasped once more, a deep desperate breath obstructed by thick webs of spit dangling down and laying on my now naked chest.

I looked up at my goddess. I loved that woman with all my heart in that moment and I would do anything to taste her cum again.

Sweet angelic sounds left those thick lips. Her words were poison to my soul, slowly eroding my ego.

"You see little bitch..." She started as she bent over slowly, forcing my head to angle up, to keep her lips in my sight.

"Once we are corrupted beyond reason, lost to desire, broken into nothing; there is only one desire, other than to serve those majestic superior men."

She cupped my chin and lifted it with her hand, sharp talons softly digging into my sensitive skin.

"It's an intense hunger that burns us from the inside. And it becomes stronger when we see beings like you.

When we see you... pathetic little boys...

We see beautiful little sweets for us to devour. Gorgeous little sisters, waiting to be born.''

She said as she pressed her tongue on my lower lip, my tongue leaping out to lick it automatically.

"We want you to fail, to surrender, to lose all that once made you a man" She paused, her mouth hovering a few inches over my face. Some of her pink hair falling around my head, a curtain of pink surrounding me.

"We love to see all those lost whores in the streets. We love to see every new addition to that herd of failed men, turning from lost souls into docile and servile little sissies. We want to make that herd ever larger, more and more of those boys turning into domesticated little things.

We are willing vectors, infecting all the men we can, turning them one by one; until the world is full of only true Alphas and failed sissies.

All those beautiful failed men who now know where they belong... Do you know where you belong, little bitch?" She asked.

I found myself thinking about it, flashes of my old life filling my memories; and yet all of them seemed distant and unrecognizable.

"When you accept your failure, you lose it all." She continued, seeming to relish the way my eyes widened and accepted her words as truth.

"You accept that you will never breed, that you don't deserve to have a female, that your genes will die with you. You accept that you don't matter, that you never mattered; and that that is ok."

"Becoming like me, is the destruction of yourself, your death as a man. Reborn as something much lower.

Something, not someone.

Something to be used up and discarded. So thoroughly broken that there will be no way back from those depths."

She spoke, then smiled and paused.

Her words were honey and poison, nectar and death:

"Will you fail for me?"

Her thumb and talons were halfway into my mouth now, gaping as it was, I couldn't speak. But knew that she didn't want my words, only my submission.

There was no argument in my mind. Infected as it already was.

I wanted another taste, to receive more and more of that deadly thing.

The first load had done its job, my brain was swimming into dopamine bliss.

I whimpered a breathy "mhmmm" as "yes".

She grinned like a devil would and then formed a thick blob of spit as she pouted those thick lips. It hung in the air and then slowly fell, right into my gaped mouth.

She didn't have to say the command, nor did I think about obeying; I swallowed it with glee.

Instantly more of the world became surrounded by that pink curtain and my mind drifted further and further away into oblivion.

...

The next time I regained some semblance of consciousness I was looking down into a quilt of red silk.

Red silk so deep in its hue, that it almost looked black where the fabric folded under my weight.

My skin was bare. All my body was naked and the humid, scented, air in the room licked up through all my exposed bits.

I felt my forearms and knees digging into the soft mattress, nearly enveloping my limbs as the silky texture relaxed and gave in.

My breath was deep and gasping, my heart was racing. Twenty candles were lit all around the small bedroom where the huge blood red bed was placed. The candlelight flickered as some droning beat rhythmically pulsed in the air, heavy and primal, almost ritualistic.

I felt the soreness of my throat next, the hazy pleasure of worship had gone, but I knew my throat would remain sore for days after. And then another pain, more recent, but slightly farther away from my cognition.

Redness upon pale skin, a slight change in temperature in the air around my butt. Both of my butt cheeks tingled, and then burned. Burned hard.

I had been spanked repeatedly, and hard enough to remain painful even now.

I attempted to turn my head, or to move my body in any fashion; all seemed useless. I barely managed to tilt my head down and see what I could of my own body, in all fours on that large red bed.

Naked, pale skin glistened. A clear line of fluid dripped from the tip of my cock, strangely flaccid as if I had cum an instant before. Shriveled into almost a nub and spent.

Her voice now sent a spike of fear down my back.

"I see that you are back again with us little bitch. That took a while."

The fear brought me back from the spell some and I managed to twist my head and turn my sight back towards her:

Hovering a meter behind me she stood, still towering over my frame, but now fully naked and glistening with sweat and an oily sheen. In her hand was a short black whip that bent slightly under its own weight.

The sight of her stimulated my corrupted brain again, a sharp hit of dopamine curbed some of the fear and locked me into my posture once more.

"You are quite definitively the most pathetic little man I have ever seen." Her words gauged deep.

"I hope you never subjected any woman to that tiny excuse of a cock there." She continued, and I found myself fighting the conflicting feelings as the woman I loved and worshipped was tearing me down so hatefully.

"I told you before that your cock would change unpredictably... but seeing you now..." The cold leather flicked my balls, and they recoiled in pain.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the virus decides to devour your balls and cock and leave you a completely sexless crotch down there." She said.

The image in the mirror once again jumped into my mind's eye: wide hips, thighs parted, no balls to speak of, only a limp little thing uselessly flapping about.

Fear once more.

I didn't want it to go that far, not really.

"No... Please..."

I softly whispered; in a voice I didn't recognize as my own.

"Oh, shut up you dumb bitch."

She said, as the whip cracked itself against my right butt cheek. A girly yelp spewing from my mouth, but my body stayed immobile.

"With how fast the virus is digging into you. And the things you said when you were all the way down the rabbit hole. There is no lie you can tell that I will believe.

You are a broken thing already, desperate to fall into your place."

Another crack, now in my left cheek. The pain shot up, but I felt my cock starting to stiffen in response as well.

"Now listen up... it would have been too easy for me to take your ass when you were all the way down in subspace. Far too easy and nowhere near half the fun."

She said smirking as she held her large white cock, glistening and dripping with lubing oils, on her left hand.

"So here is what we are going to do... At the speed you are going, if you don't get any more cum you will have around ten months until your transformation is complete. Maybe that would be enough time for you to start looking for ways to cure yourself, if they even exist.

However, one more load from me and that time will be cut in half, and then half again with every load I put into you. In just a few weeks you will be just another whore in the streets." She said.

I remembered the whores now, their faces desperate for attention, as if they were always just at the edge of an orgasm that never came. I didn't want to become like that: dirty, broken, worthless.

"Here is the deal then." She continued.

"I am going to take your virginity. I am going to break that little hole of yours until its gaped and molded around my cock. I will fuck you until you beg for an end."

Her promises were equal parts terrible and delicious.

"And I will not cum until you beg me for it." She ended.

I thought about it, about the dirty skinny whores that lined the streets, about my friends and family who I would never talk to again, about the children I would never get to father. There was hope yet, hope to get back to them, hope to become a good father to those unborn children, hope to love a woman and have her love me back as a man. All I had to do was stay strong.

My body was still locked in, all I could do was look back and up at that terrible goddess as she took one step forward and then another. The sight of her cock disappearing as my own ass came in the way.

Then I felt it.

Soft slick, warm oils. And then pressure.

A soft head of flesh with a force behind it that slowly forced its way in.

"Relax little bitch. This is your future; you need to learn how to do it. Don't want to suffer every time a man takes you, right?" she whispered, but didn't stop pressing.

I attempted to obey. I couldn't fight back, my body almost completely locked in place by an invisible force. She was going to take my asshole one way or another, and it was better this way.

My first line of muscles relaxed slightly, and I felt the first half an inch slide in. The sensation swallowed my whole focus, a foreign feeling, stretching a thing that was not meant to stretch by a pressure I had never felt before.

"Nice and slow little bitch. You see how good of a Goddess I am? Any other sissy would have raped you into tears by now." She laughed callously.

But it was true, her movements were deliberate and slow, only inching forwards when she felt my muscles yield to her invasion.

I was being conquered, inch by inch.

My final line of muscles relaxed, those I had no control over, but they relaxed all the same. Her head slid in partly.

Stretch.

Stretch.

Stretch.

Pain.

Not even the ridge at the back of her head was in and still the pain started to surge forwards.

A quiet squeal echoed amidst the tribal drums. Like a mouse trapped in a cage.

My muscles contracted reflexively but that only increased the suffering.

"Owwwhhh!!"

I begged in a girl's screech, tears welling up in my eyes.

She clicked her tongue in disapproval, and then issued a command, as if she was a general on the battlefield:

"Face down, ass up, sissy!"

My body unlocked, and I was allowed to move, if only to relax my shoulders and drop my chest and face into the soft silks. I bit down on them as the next wave of pain shook.

The new posture was helping the pain subside and she slowly managed to push the broad part of her head inside me.

"I am taken."

I thought then. A bareback cock was now inside my asshole, and I was really and truly getting fucked.

My dick was now stiff and hanging in the air, and I was starting to feel the need to caress it; But my locked-in body didn't allow me to indulge.

Instead, I felt the Goddess sliding into me, no longer pressure, but a filling sensation. Oiled up skin rubbing itself against the walls of my hole. My muscles remaining stretched and dilated. My mind focused on keeping myself soft, supple and relaxed, doing everything to avoid another lance of pain.

"Is this how a woman feels?" I wondered.

The slight pain, the uncomfortable sensation of fullness, the deep primal urge to submit to the one invading my body.

She continued, slowly deepening her reach into my body, on and on until I felt her hips press against my buttcheeks and her balls rest against my taint. She was all the way inside.

"I am hers." I thought.

"She has conquered my body."

My cock begged for attention, and I knew that if I touched it now, I would explode in an instant. I was thankful to be locked into this position now.

My hands gripped the silks, concentrating on resisting the pain, or the impulse to surrender. One force growing weaker while the other intensified insidiously inside my mind.

An electric bolt of pleasure shot up from my butt and my closed hands flared from the shock. She had slid her cock out, with intention and force, rubbing something inside me as she went almost all the way out from my butt.

Even in my locked-in posture my whole body answered her command:

My arms straightened and my fingers splayed, my head bent back, and my mouth went into an "O", my back arched even more. I assumed a pose reminiscent of a stretching cat, feminine and graceful. And a deep girly moan escaped my lips.

"You will be my easiest conquest; I am sure of it."

She said, speaking for the first time since she had fully entered me.

"You are so ready to give up your manhood and become my wanton whore, aren't you?" she asked as she pushed herself once more inside me.

Another spark of pleasure, and another moan from my lips. She had changed something about her angle, and now her hits went directly into that sensitive spot where she could milk my manhood away.

The strange filling sensation slowly gave way to a burning pleasure rising from a place my mind had never realized existed before. My cock, once desperate for touch, was now dripping streams of clear fluid as she moved herself back out and then in; once more milking me from the inside.

"Ahhh! My goddess!" I exclaimed, not even thinking about the words.

She placed both of her hands around my waist now, securing me in her grasp, and digging her talons into my abdomen.

"Good little bitch. Very soon you will give up your right to breed."

She said as she pushed herself again.

Inside my mind the image of my dreamed future children faded away. Instead, my balls were now useless and gone.

The virus multiplied inside my brain, taking with it my reproductive need.

She slid out and quickly back in again.

Between my moans the sissy inside found my voice box once more:

"I don't deserve to breed!"

The sounds coming from my mouth were not the voice of a man, not even a boy, they sounded just as feminine as the voice of the woman conquering my body.

She intensified her rhythm, the sliding sensation on my hole now was stronger and it rubbed away more and more of my resistances.

"Good.... Good... fail for me..."

She said, breathing heavily, in wanton pleasure. She dug her talons deeper into my skin. Digging so deep that they probably drew blood, but they certainly would leave scars. She was marking me as her prey.

"You will never be inside of a woman again. You belong to cock now."

Her voice resonated in my mind as if it came from the gods above, or as if she was the queen of my own personal little hell.

More of my dignity faded away. The virus took away all my desires and replaced them with cock. The very memory of pussies was blocked out forever, censored, even in my mind.

The sissy confirmed the progress of the infection, reporting back to that terrible vector:

"Women belong only to superior men, I belong only to cocks."

I felt another chain lock inside my mind.

Her thrusts were powerful now, my sore hole was screaming in pain, but the pleasure remained always one step above it. Never letting my mind stray from the path my Goddess had placed me in.

My cock was so tense, blue veins almost bursting, the tip was red with desire. Any slight attention would bring my whole being into orgasm. But I couldn't touch it. I wasn't allowed.

"That little clit of yours. So long has it controlled your life, little bitch. Made you, its puppet."

She moved one of her hands from my waist all the way to the base of my neck, gripping it as a farm animal would be gripped.

"You don't belong to that clit. That clit will shrink and remain limp and you won't be able to feel it ever again." She said as she pushed deeper and deeper.

That future seemed surreal, a world where my cock truly did not matter. Not even to be paid attention to, or even remembered, as insignificant to my life as any other patch of skin, strand of hair or ounce of flesh. It felt oddly liberating.

"Only real cocks matter. Only REAL cocks can control your life. You will be their puppet... Just. Like. Me."

She said, timing her last few words with her thrusts.

The virus was entering the core of my personality now, and for the first time, the voice came from my own free and willing soul:

"I don't have a cock! I have a pathetic little clit!" I said. At the edge of orgasm.

Riding out the wave I spoke again; my voice mixed with breathy moans and laden with sultry girly tones:

"Please Goddess, break my clit into uselessness. I want it to become a tiny, limp reminder that I failed as a man. That I failed for you."

She yanked me by my hair. I squealed like a wanton whore. Then she said, deepening her thrusts:

"Then fail for me. Surrender your manhood, your will, your very being. Say that you will happily become a toy for our Masters and end it all."

My body contorted as I rode the wave of orgasm and my untouched clitty drooled away what little manhood I still possessed.

"I give up. You have broken me."

My legs started to tremble. But the orgasm didn't stop.

"I have no more dignity, no more will."

In my mind's eye the silhouette was no longer far away in a mirror, it was as true as the silken sheets as I looked down. I was that sissy.

"I failed, now make me a good toy for our Masters! Please my Goddess, put more of your seed inside me! Breed me into becoming another one of those cute little whores, that is where I belong: Desperate, worthless and obedient!"

I said as my legs buckled under the pressure of her weight.

We both fell forward into a mating press. And soon in my post-orgasm quietness I began feeling that throbbing cock inside me filling me with cum.

My orgasm had ended, but hers was still roaring.

Orgasm had slightly cleared my head, but it was too late. Her weight and my weakness held me down, the pink haze was gone but in its place was a slow awakening still too far away to act.

Inside my ass ropes and ropes of cum were already coating my insides, her virus would soon impregnate me again.

My mind struggled to form the thought: "In just a few weeks, I'll become just like her."

____

____

____

The sheets were soaked with sweat, oils and spit. The right side of my face was half sunk in the soft mattress and my hands laid listless on the soft sheets, with no strength left to act.

Her weight was not overbearing, but in my state, it was a struggle even to catch my breath.

Her long pink hair draped over my head and entwined with my own, and her quickened breaths whispered in my left ear, deep and with lovely feminine tones.

On my back, her large round breasts felt like warm pillows and her wide hips and thick thighs nearly shadowed my own body in their girth.

My ass was starting to feel the burning pain after the first time it had been used. Still stretched beyond measure, my mind could now focus on the alien and slightly uncomfortable sensation of fullness her cock commanded.

Even now, near a minute since her orgasm had started, I could still feel her cock still twitching inside. Like a pulsating pump it was still sending some of its seed forth and into my undefended body.

The fullness inside me grew, drop by drop.

Soon it would start to take root, just as the first load had.

The clarity after my own orgasm had now grown and I was able to contemplate the consequences of what had happened.

No longer I felt the sissy urges I had felt when I was still at the brink of extasy, although I could sense that they wouldn't be far away for too long.

The future seemed ever bleaker for me thou: Once I was looking forward to a slow insidious transition into that new life, with perhaps enough time to search for a way to avoid that final degrading fate.

Now, however, I had cut my time in half, if she could be believed. And deep down, I did believe her.

Not only that. She had told me, and I had foreseen that if I did turn, I wouldn't become a powerful Goddess like her. No, the image inside my mind's eye was the most distant thing to any dignity whatsoever. The most useless, worthless, desperate thing that I could be.

Even compared to the whores I had seen in the streets, that thing in the mirror was pathetic.

I felt tears in my eyes.

Then I heard a girl sobbing.

Then I realized the voice was mine and I started to bawl.

The tears wouldn't stop.

No matter how good that Goddess had made me feel, I didn't want to become that twisted thing in my waking nightmares.

I felt a soft hand caressing my head, and warm arms embracing me.

"Ohh no... oh no no no..." Her voice said, sweet and heartwarming.

"I am so sorry my sweetheart..." She whispered softly... sadly.

____

____

____

A long while had passed.

She had exited me and wrapped me in soft, clean blankets, then brought me warm tea inside a cup with kitten ears molded on its rim.

She had seated me on her bed and surrounded me with large soft pillows and besides a huge fluffy plushy of a white kitten, contrasting heavily with the deep red bedcoverings. It felt warm beside me, as if heat emanated from the white fluff.

She had made every effort to make me comfortable and secure in this place. But below the quilts I could feel my body changing:

A strange warmness, sore and deaf pain that moved from limb to limb, a tingling sensation that bordered on burning as it focused on my genitals, my nipples and my asshole.

I stayed still, sipping my teacup. I was no longer locked-in, but I was too afraid to lift the sheets and discover that perhaps my dick and balls had already disappeared into a smooth featureless crotch.

When she finally stopped fluttering about and bringing me things she seated herself down at the edge of her bed and beside me. She was wearing a light white nightdress that hung softly over her breast and covered her body almost to her knees.

She was not looking me in the eye, she appeared to be unable to even look in my direction. Her gaze locked on the floor, sad and guilty.

My eyes pleaded to her. Silently saying:

"Turn me back..."

Instead, she just said:

"I... I really am sorry."

Her voice was almost breaking into tears.

I wanted to be angry at her then. I had seen, heard and felt how much she enjoyed degrading and humiliating me. Was she just playing me now? Acting contrite just to then turn on me when I was vulnerable once more?

"Are you... really?" Was all I managed. Less angry than sceptic.

She turned her eyes to mine, and I saw the tears welling up and the shaking stare that told me that she was truly hurt.

"Do you feel that the words you said, the things you did half an hour ago, was your true self?" She asked.

"Of course not." I replied swiftly.

She bit her lip. "Counting you, I have turned three girls already. And it breaks my heart every time."

I turned my head, thinking about where those other two might be now.

"I feel the same shame and guilt you are feeling about submitting now. The same regret over my choices as you feel about yours. After the last one I had promised myself, I wouldn't do it again." She said.

"How long ago was the last one?" I asked.

"Since she fully turned, and until today...." She closed her eyes and lowered her head. "A week."

I was angry now; the virus didn't dampen it at all.

"Wow, paragon of virtue here." I spit sarcastically.

"I know! I know!" she said meekly.

"I might be your Goddess when you are my sissy. But in truth I am more like an older sister to you than anything else, and not that much older at all."

Curiosity struck me: "When did you turn?" I asked.

"I was infected a year ago and fully broken now for eight weeks..." she said.

Ten months turning seemed like a long time compared to the 5 months she predicted I would last.

"How come...?" I started but I didn't have to finish the question.

"I turned slowly, fought every step and only had one load in me for the longest time. And I had something to fight for."

She said.

"I had a wife that loved me and a boy that looked up to me."

I bit my lip, now considering what witnessing this unnatural degradation would do to a small boy.

"How old?" I asked.

"Well, he was a man then, not a boy really, only in my eyes. Nineteen." She said.

That answer startled me. She couldn't be a day older than twenty-one, how could her son be that old?

"How? He...? What?"

She simply shrugged.

"Some days I wake up as sore and stiff as my age. Perhaps inside I'm still fifty-five. Honestly, I have no idea whether I am a mirage or whether that virus gave me thirty more years to live."

I looked at my hands, recognizing them only faintly. They had already taken a softer and more delicate semblance. If I wasn't feeling the changes in myself, I would bet that this was just a crazy whore, making up stories.

I decided to let that slide and asked instead about her family. I was still very unsure as to how I would deal with my own and I only had my parents and cousins to deal with.

"How did they take it?" I asked.

"I tried to hide the changes at first." She said. "They started very slowly, enough that even my wife took over two months to notice. But by the time she saw how my butt and breast were starting to grow; my mind was too weak to come up with a good answer.

Two weeks later I was addicted to watching porn and had moved out, or rather I had been driven from my house. My boy had found some videos inside my computer and had called me a faggot. Later I was told that my wife was dating some new guy she worked with."

"I am sorry..." I said, placing my hand on hers.

She simply smiled through the tears.

"It's ok... I am a sissy; I don't deserve to have a woman."

She wasn't lying or faking. The swiftness and honesty she answered with shook me.

"Your boy?" I asked, trying to get back around her sissy side.

Her smile did shift to sadness then. At least her core was untouched there.

"He took it really bad. He was so angry when I left, when he saw me dressed in skirts for the first time. He nearly hit me. In my weakness, his anger frightened me." She said. "I should have been stronger, or at least explained better..."

"What happened then?" I probed.

"The truth is, I promised myself not to turn any more sissies, because of him." Her words ominous as death.

"Nine days ago, my ex-wife called me in the night, crying and angry. She screamed at me, or perhaps at my sissy side. She asked me if it had not been enough that I had taken her husband away. She asked me about why did I have to take her son as well." She pursed her thick plush lips and swallowed.

"Our son had left the house a week after he had seen me dressed up, angry at the whole world and in rebellion against all that reminded him of me.

He disappeared for only ten days. The next time my ex-wife saw him, his lips were wrapped around my wife's lover's black cock." She paused and swallowed.

"She didn't even recognize him at first, she only saw a young blonde slut, it was only after she confronted her new boyfriend's 'mistress' when she found out."

" 'I am my daddy's daughter'

He said to her while kneeling at the feet of that large black man.

'Its only natural that I would come to worship the cock that replaced him.' " She ended.

I saw a strange mixture of feelings inside that beautiful pink haired whore. She was sad, full of regret and mournful; and yet I saw the strange glint of guilty pleasure in her eyes.

"Are you sad that your son ended up a sissy like you?" I asked.

It would seem an obvious answer, but something in her eyes told me that her logic was more twisted than that.

"He was my son." She said. "My genes, my line..." She paused.

"He never had a chance." She smiled deranged.

"I knew she would end up drooling for cock. Just. Like. Me."

She scared me again; I saw the pink mist starting to congeal inside her mind.

"Was she about to turn on me again?" I feared.

"Then why did you make that vow?!" I asked loudly, almost begging for her mind to turn away from the mist.

It seemed to do the trick. The painful memories brought her back from that blissful mist.

"I still haven't been able to talk to my sweet Charlie. I call her every day, but no answer." She frowned. "I am just so worried. She changed from man to slut in just ten days!

I'm so scared to think how he could have suffered. All alone and scared... Lost inside the fog."

"I see..."

I said, seeing her turning human once more. I reached forth to hug her, my lithe arms wrapping around that amazon of a woman.

"I have decided you are a good person."

I said while laying my head on her shoulders, sweet coconut and vanilla wafting from her hair.

"I'm sorry I infected you."

She said.

"I promise I will be by your side until you turn... Just try to stay away from my cock. I can't promise to control myself when I'm around you."

I broke the hug softly, staring at her lovely face, with large blue eyes and thick, soft lips, only inches away. The urge to kiss her grew stronger by the second.

I managed to resist, closed my eyes and simply smiled. "Thank you." I said. "Sister."

_____

_____

_____

In the end. She managed to control her urges and guide me back to the door after gifting me a pack of "Essentials".

By the time I had gone back to my apartment the whole thing seemed like a far away dream.

Those beautiful, soft, lips.

Those rounded thick, fleshy, thighs.

That delicious, powerful, cock.

The dripping sensation of cum coming from my filled-up ass was the only thing reminding me that it had been real.

As I dropped the bag on the floor I wondered at my new situation.

"I'm like a bred slut."

I said to no one and for no particular reason while placing one hand above where a womb would be.

____

____

____

The next morning, I woke up with a hunger I had not known in ages.

The day before I had managed two full meals. More than I had allowed myself in weeks, and yet the pangs were stronger than ever.

I rolled out of the thick quilts and placed my bare feet on the cold tiles.

They landed with a delicate tap. And moved about to the kitchen.

Inside the "Essentials" pack, amongst other things, were a few cans labeled

"Breakfast shake."

I had never seen the item before, and the can itself did not have any other labeling, not even a nutritional chart. But it was the only remotely edible thing in my house now.

I quickly popped one open and brought it to my lips.

The consistency of condensed milk, and a taste like the sea; but it was filling.

A loud satisfied gasp later, and I had emptied the disgusting liquid in one chug. Hunger quickly retreating from my mind.

As I grabbed a glass of water to cleanse the flavor from my mouth, other sensations started to take over my consciousness:

A warm, heavy filling in my chest.

A dull ache right above my pelvis.

A weighty soreness in my back and ass.

Even my belly becoming tighter and more filled up. As if I was somehow bloated.

An intrusive thought surged inside: "I'm pregnant."

I nearly laughed out loud at the idea. Hilarious and impossible, and yet... somehow oddly alluring.

I looked down at my own body: I had gone to bed in a beige t-shirt and brown boxers, but as I looked now the beige shirt seemed more like a knee-high night gown and the boxers seemed to be nowhere around my waist now.

"Did I take them off in the night?" I wondered.

I walked back to the bedroom looking for the mirror by the far wall. My steps feeling lighter and more effortless than my body had ever felt, even thou with every step a sting of dull ache came from my chest.

When I finally reached the mirror's view I nearly screamed: I knew now how powerful that virus was.

In the end I was not pregnant; but the cum she had deposited deep inside me was changing my body just the same:

The t-shirt could not have grown, so I must have shrunk. And indeed, I did, nearly a full foot shorter than I used to be. The sleeves now reaching almost over my elbows as my back had narrowed.

Even my hair seemed longer, although that must have grown quite dramatically during the night, because now it fell almost reaching my jawline. Looking like a messy bobcut.

In one, nearly automatic movement I reached one hand behind my back. I wasn't ready to reveal whatever horrible changes had my penis endured, but I needed to embrace my new shape.

I pulled the back of the t-shirts fabric, tightening it taught against my abdomen and chest. My new silhouette exploded into my eyes:

A thin waist cinched and small. Slightly wider hips and rounder curves. And the slightest hint of growth in my chest.

Compared to the woman I had kissed yesterday I was still far from achieving a true feminine figure. But there was no trace of the lean muscle and manly shape I used to have.

I now looked like a thin, scrawny, girly boy.

Above the neck my face was completely unrecognizable. Most of the changes had focused there.

I felt my heart starting to pump in my ears as soon as I saw it.

I was not very old at all, but this face was probably five or ten years younger than my age. Slightly pouty lips, thick and soft. Rosy, rounded cheeks. Large soft eyes with long lashes.

"Did I turn so quickly?!" My heart dropped.

In front of me was the body of a woman, or at least the budding thing that would become a woman. But there was nearly no trace of my masculinity to be found.

I brought one finger to my lips, testing its texture as much as testing to see if they were really there.

The soft bounce of moist flesh sent strange pleasure through my body. Those "Fuck-me" lips were indeed my own.

I felt a stirring between my legs, warmness and then a stiffening.

"Perhaps I have not yet lost all that made me a man..."

I thought. Regaining some of the lost courage.

Looking again at the faint hourglass silhouette in the mirror; I brought both hands to the edge of the fabric covering my thighs. The gap between them was wide as it reached my hips. I half expected it to end in the large featureless crotch of a female, my heart was racing with fear at the thought.

I had been marked by the seed of that woman, she had changed me so thoroughly, twice she had laid her sperm inside me, and my body had obeyed her silent commands.

The fabric rose slowly, revealing more and more of that supple pale skin, hairless and smooth. All those old hard-earned scars and blemishes were gone. Now only the virgin skin remained.

Finaly the fabric lifted over my round hips. Between those thick legs, and in the midst of a wide thigh gap my manhood remained.

It was there, and apparently unchanged. For all that it was worth.

I had never been very big, much less when fully flaccid. Yet now the smooth skin turning into tight taut balls and a smooth stiffening shaft had quite a morbid guilty pleasure surrounding it.

Corrupting that perfectly feminized shape, my cock remained, slowly getting swallowed into an ever less masculine role.

Suddenly I felt the other edge of the virus starting to bite.

Strange, alien thoughts flooding my mind: thoughts of submission, of blissful ignorance and wanton desire. Thoughts of self-destructive urges and castrating fantasies.

I dropped the fabric, once again covering my manhood, now fully erect and throbbing in desire.

The thoughts started to recede as I focused on my new reality.

"How will I earn my living now?" I wondered, looking at my weak thin arms and delicate hands.

____

____

____

I was walking again on the empty alley that led into my apartment building. Wearing the only things that fit into this new body: inside that 'Essentials' bag was a garment made with stretchy fabric.

Black leggings, soft and silky to the touch.

They sparked delightful sensations when my thighs and calves rubbed together. And even though the fabric seemed very thin and unprotective, they managed to keep my legs warm enough.

As a top I decided to wear a woolen top that fit me loosely enough to hide my small new frame. Beige and clean.

"Unlike to call any undue attention." I thought

She had gifted me a pair of white sport shoes that seemed to be made more out of a stretchy nylon fabric than any real leather or hard material.

"She knew I would shrink, but she didn't know by how much." I wondered.

I felt quite grateful for these gifts, most of my old clothes would have been nigh unwearable. And yet...

"I look way too girly!"

I exclaimed as my reflection appeared on the window of a closed store.

...

...

...

It was still very early in the morning, the mist and dew still hung low amongst these carless streets. Further ahead I would come to the old crossroads where the small net of auxiliary alleys would disgorge into an actual street. Surveillance drones already buzzed overhead

"Further ahead there would be people." I thought anxiously.

After I had dressed in whatever I found to put on I had looked at my reflection once more and deeply considered staying home.

The reaction from the people in the street or my acquaintances at the freelance worker spot, scared me half to death.

But in the end survival logic won out:

My body was changing; the hunger was stronger and came back quicker than before. It was obvious that these changes were draining the few reserves I had, if I didn't put on some calories today, I could very well end up on a hospital bed soon.

I would go back to that empty parking lot and attempt to find whatever job this new, weaker body could perform.

...

I turned another corner and the noise from the people and cars grew into my focus. My anxiety rose together with the volume.

I looked down at my body once more:

A thin thing, still with no breast to show on my thick woolen top, but my legs had clearly been heavily feminized. Even with so little fat to speak of the thighs were already looking much thicker than what I had expected, wobbling slightly with every step.

"What am I becoming?" I thought.

A sudden pain caught me by surprise. Cramping in my abdomen with a burning sensation that coursed up to my breasts and down to my hips. I bent in pain, holding my belly with both hands.

The tensing contraction of my abdominal muscles cramped and twisted every fiber of my being. I exhaled forcefully, and a soft girly moan escaped my mouth. My eyes shut and I started to count the seconds inside my mind as I struggled to keep both feet planted on the ground.

A filling, stretching sensation warned to wrench open my womb.

"Womb! What the hell am I thinking about?!"

I cried out, fighting against those alien intrusive thoughts. I stomped my small foot on the ground once, as if squishing the thought underfoot.

By the time I got to forty-seven seconds counted in my head the pain died down. Slowly, it receded leaving only the dull ache that reminded me of the aching in my body when I woke up.

I was panting for breath.

The world slowly came back to me...

My hand was resting on a smooth surface to my right, helping to keep me on my feet.

I opened my eyes and focused my view on the surface.

"A mirror?" I wondered.

"No. Another window." The answer in my mind.

Behind the reflection was a small shop, selling tools and construction materials. A man staring down at me.

He was huge.

Or perhaps he was the same height I used to be, yet from this new perspective the whole world seemed bigger.

He turned his gaze away as he realized I was getting over my spaz.

My attention then drifted to my reflection once again.

"Did I change even more?!" My reflection was not the same as a minute ago.

My thighs seemed somewhat thicker, or perhaps my legs were even shorter. My hair an fell an inch further down my face than before. I moved it from my eyes with a slender finger.

"My mouth..."

My finger moved down, tracing itself against a soft rounded cheek and down again to the edge of a pair of full and thick lips. Bouncy and moist. They had grown fuller yet again.

"Delicious..."

I could almost hear the voice, soft, breathy and wanton; but it was coming from something inside me.

My breathing quickened.

I took a step back from the image. Reality returning.

"I need to focus!"

I said out loud, my voice sounding ever more feminized.

My sight focused on the road ahead and I sent my mind to logical problem solving as I started to walk once more:

"So... I was infected with some virus sort of thing. And it is making me turn into..."

My mind started to wander. I slammed my foot on the ground once more, bringing it back by sheer willpower.

"It's turning me into a sex-slave, or a bimbo, or something... definitively unmanly. The more I fall into its claws and the more cum I let inside, the quicker and more drastic my transformation will become."

I took another turn, only a few more steps until I would be on the main street. The alley was perhaps only three meters wide, and full of puddles and broken pavement.

"This, contractions, pains. That's probably the virus changing my body, in waves." I felt hunger once more. "If it changes my shape so quickly, it must use a lot of energy..."

I stopped in my tracks.

"What if I don't give it any energy to change?" I considered the terrible hunger that would entail. But then another logical datum condensed in my thoughts.

"I wasn't fat at all before, I couldn't have had much stored energy anyways. I was practically starving already."

The answer appeared clearly as I looked at a metal switchbox that I used to pass by almost every day. Now placed a full foot higher than I remembered it.

"My height... it's taking away inches of height to make up the deficit."

I thought about how many calories could be stored in an inch of bone, fat and muscle.

"How tall am I now?" I said out loud.

But only the bricks on the wall could give any hint of the number. At least it didn't seem like I was particularly short yet, I used to be a slightly above average height male. Even losing a foot wouldn't put me in such a bad spot now.

I sighed and continued my route. If I didn't work, I wouldn't eat, and all this worrying would be for naught.

"I must carry on."

____

____

____

After crossing into the main street, I was suddenly surrounded by the dirty and packed market street of my neighborhood.

About a thousand people would be packed in 5 blocks of cramped streets and stalls, small driverless cars would zoom about nearly noiselessly on their electric engines, and on the wide sidewalks many street vendors and small shops were placed.

It used to be that places like this were on the small, isolated and impoverished communities around town; but in the past ten years all changed. Slowly at first, and then all at once.

Now neighborhoods like this are replicated all over the city, the country, perhaps even the world for what little information seeps through the fog of knowledge. This is the shape of the world as far as I knew.

Stepping into the crowd felt wholly unfamiliar. The same faces I had seen for years, were now hovering a foot higher than I was used to seeing them; and none of them shared a look of recognition towards me.

"I am truly not myself anymore."

The crowd seemed mostly interested in their smartwatches and small clear tablets, all of them looking either desperate or hopeless. Hungry people, every one of them.

I was nearly growing used to the unfamiliar sensation when I noticed them: eyes.

One pair, then another, then another. Three pairs of eyes staring directly at me, unwavering. Their intensity startled me: They had the same hunger as the eyes of everyone else, but not the same dulled drive. Everyone else was a scared prey... they were hunters.

Once, I would look at those girls and feel only pity: The poor downtrodden beauties that ended up selling their bodies for a few cents and some scraps of bread. Not now. The three women were staring at me at the entrance of a narrow dark alley that steered sharply to the left, they looked like a stalking pride of lions. Their eyes fixated on their next prey.

I would have to walk by them, there was no way around. My steps grew quicker, and I tried to avert my gaze.

It was to no avail, something forced my eyes up as the distance between us became ever closer, the inside of the alley still hidden by the angle at which I was coming from. "Could there be more of them waiting to pounce inside?"

When my eyes met their frames once more, I felt a trigger going off in my mind and I couldn't resist to stare. They were dressed in a very unique way: skintight suits, either leotards that exposed their legs and arms, full body suits or a type of strange bikini. All of them had the texture of black goo, shimmering and reflecting different colors in the neon light of the many signs around them.

All three of the women were very distinct:

One of them was taller than the rest, with strong muscular toned legs and a tight skinny waist, so full of muscle that it showed through the skintight suit.

The one wearing the bunnysuit was thick, even in this age where so little food was available, she was plump, with heavy rounded thighs and a fat ass, yet with smooth and tight skin full of hidden strength.

The last one was wearing a bikini styled garment, with very little coverage, that connected both pieces of the suit by a strip of material going through the midline and up to her neck where it became a collar. She was much smaller than the other two, a skinny little thing, flat chested and with her ribs showing through the fatless skin. She seemed to be almost hugging the largest woman for protection. But her eyes still hungered for the hunt.

My eyes slowly drifted down towards their crotches where I saw bulging silhouettes starting to pulse and grow.

I found them all beautiful in their own special ways and imagined myself serving every one of them with delight. I knew it was the virus, yearning to take over my mind. But the sensation was almost too sweet to avoid.

I felt my foot hit the ground hard once again. "NO!" my mind recoiled against the pull.

I knew how they saw me now; they saw me as men would see a random slut in the streets. I was a thing to them, a receptacle for them to pump their corrupted seed into. To enjoy, use and then discard.

I saw how they stared at my body, how their eyes went up and down every inch of my form. How they stopped at my thighs and hips, how they bit their lips as they focused on mine.

What manner of perversions was going through those corrupted minds?

I was being objectified.

"Don't you want to be our plaything, sweety?" The voice was sharp and true. But it froze me in my tracks: For once the alien sound wasn't coming from inside my mind.

Her lips were pink and moist, her tongue almost salivating, pale white skin glistening and jiggling softly as she breathed. Her breast seemed to almost fall out of her skintight suit and her thick legs rested weightlessly on the dirty crowded street.

She had closed the distance without my noticing and was now standing two meters away from me. Her soft pear-shaped body, glistening as if she had been oiled in the light, as the people walked pass her as if she wasn't even there.

There used to be a time where I wouldn't pay any mind to these lost-soul streetwalkers, but now here one was, and she seemed as terrible as death, alluring as love.

"Don't you want to let us play with you, little boy?" she curled her index finger slowly, calling me forth to her.

I felt the crowd start to disappear, the world itself slowly turning into a pink mist. My body started to move on its own.

I felt the pull of death like the urge to jump from a mortal height.

I knew what it meant: If I fell to them, I would cut my time as a man down, and when I finally completed my transformation, I would become weaker and less able. My power, my strength, my cock, all would slowly fade into nothingness.

My eyes turned from the wide, fed hips of the woman in front of me to the girl standing by the amazon at the mouth of the alley. "Would I end up like her? A thin, frail little creature; begging for scraps and safety at the feet of some other stronger sissy?"

I imagined myself in the same position, but at the feet of a different whore. That strong, soft, lovely woman that bred me.

My stomach fluttered...

Even now I could feel a warmness where a womb would be if I had been born a real woman. Even if it was only in my mind, only a trick of that ever-corrupting virus; I had been bred by that woman, her seed was still implanted deep inside me.

My feet continued placing themselves one in front of the other, then my left hand started to raise itself towards the hand of that plump slut.

My voice inside my head could barely whimper in protest; the pull was too strong. I knew I couldn't fight it.

She was grinning ear to ear with evil intent, wicked and almost crazed. A monster, barely disguised as a whore.

My hand softly offered itself to her, my fingers limply hanging in the air, weak and powerless to do anything but surrender.

"I give you my hand..." I heard myself whispering.

And old vow, marrying my soul to an underserving master. She was death and yet... so tempting.

As her fingers were almost fully interlaced with mine, her grip upon my skin was almost secured. Only then did I see it, when it was almost too late. It made me jump back, pull away from the dream, snap back into reality and nearly bolt in panic:

As I got close enough for her to take hold of me, I finally managed to peer into the mouth of that dark alley.

Inside was a horrific scene: four bodies laid on the ground, bruised and covered in spit and cum, naked and used, panting for breath. Their mouths agape as trails of cum and drool lazily fell away from their holes.

I managed to make out the details of the one closest to the entrance of the alley: a small thing, tiny even compared to me. Waves and waves of virus had crashed against a malnourished body.

She was strewn on the pavement, her body half submerged in a dark puddle of black goo, cum and muddy water.

Her eyes were open but with heavy eyelids, and a glossy blank stare that revealed how mindless her insides were.

She was spread wide; but apart from a few scratches, bruises and love marks there was nothing else to see when looking upon her crotch. No penis, no balls, no vagina.

A featureless sexdoll.

She was not even human anymore.

"Don't you want to be our toy, sweety?" Her voice was full of darkness. How could such a soft and sweet face convey such dark and evil intent?

Even inside the mist, against the shock, with temptation staring me in the face; survival won.

I ran.

____

____

____

*Pat, pat, pat*

The soft sound of sport shoes tapping on the pavement. My breathless mouth panting away. In and out my breath went, my heart started to pound hard in my ears. Sweat starting to drip down my neck.

The soft bounce of thick thighs had been replaced with the burning sensation of aching muscles.

I had been running for almost fifteen minutes. Barely slowing down to let the odd car pass as I crossed street upon street.

I was far away from that dark alley, but I knew I could not stop. Not now, not with them around.

That had only been the first group of corrupted girls I had met, but there were others, many others, everywhere. As I glanced around, I realized, more and more; the whole city was full of them. At least one fourth of the people were no longer even going about their business. But rather standing still, looking, waiting, smiling.

All those girls were simply standing there, looking, showing themselves to the world.

I couldn't focus on any of them, I didn't dare. Anyone of them could put another spell on me. And then...

My mind flashed to the image of that broken thing in the street, full of bruises and empty of dignity and humanity.

"What were they even doing there?"

It didn't make sense. Even whores need to work, but who could even pay for them all? And all of them seemed wholly uninterested in luring any new clients.

They were interested only in us.

A pair of them were pressing themselves against a person on a corner in the block ahead. They were dressed in outfits like the ones the others before were wearing, but this time in violet and scarlet.

Between the two tall women was a small thing, already frail looking compared to them. In her face there was only fear.

Her eyes were wide, and she was starting to cry and beg. I couldn't hear what she was saying, the crowd didn't care about them at all, but their noise drowned the words.

As I was barely twenty meters away, I made out what her lips were begging:

"Please... no..."

My heart sank.

The one behind her was holding her tight with one arm around her waist and with the other she had gripped her hair and was pulling her head back and tilting it up towards her accomplice.

The one dressed in violet then started to approach. Her grin was the same as that other girl over two kilometers away. Remorseless evil.

"No! No! Please no!"

I could make out her voice now. A tiny thing, squeaking and whimpering.

I couldn't let it happen, I needed to do something. I picked up my pace.

The soft tapping of my small feet picking up. My breathing already ragged, picked up.

"Perhaps if I tackle them full force." I thought.

I raced, my already burning legs were begging me to stop; but I couldn't listen. All I could do was look at them.

I was nearly on them when it happened: It felt slow, as if in slow motion. But the whole exchange couldn't have taken more than three seconds.

I saw the girl in violet grab the little thing by the chin and in one strong movement forced her mouth open. She stopped grinning now. Inside the mouth of the violet demoness she pooled her spit.

I could feel what she was doing. My sweet woman had told me before: Every one of our bodily fluids carries the virus.

She looked as if she was somehow concentrating the power of the virus in whatever was in her mouth. Distilling it like bile before releasing it on her victim.

Thick, gooey, tar-black.

From those perfect red lips, a ball of jet-black goo, oily and thick came forth.

The girl was trying desperately to shake away her head, but it was no use. The two women were full of sinew. Holding her as a mouse in a vice.

The drooling spit hung in the air for what felt like an eternity, the gravity of the planet slowly pulling the viscous fluid down. Down into the mouth of that poor girl. Where it fell and pooled. Slowly filling the small mouth of that poor girl to the brim.

The wicked grin then returned to that evil face, and her hand closed the little thing's mouth, forcing her to swallow.

Before I could reach her, she had stopped fighting. And I had stopped trying to be her savior.

Then I saw with hopeless eyes: the hand of the little thing slowly lifting in the air and offering itself to those evil women.

"I give you my hand..." she had said.

___________

I hope you enjoyed this first foray into the very near future.

Part 2 is already in the final stages of editing and will be posted very soon.

Do you have any recommendations as to where you would like to see the story going next?