She tosses me my shirt. “Get dressed. We’re going to get some coffee.”
I dress fast. The shorts sit higher on the fuller curve of my ass. My right hand still isn’t clean, not really, and every time I forget and breathe near it the sauna comes back.
On the walk to the coffee shop, I catch a glance of myself in a shop window. The shorts ride up too much; the new curve of my ass is right there in the glass, fabric shifting between my cheeks with each step. I watch it for two strides too long. The sight makes my stomach pulse hard enough that I have to look away and keep walking with my thighs pressed tight.
We end up at the same coffee shop as last time.
I’m halfway through an iced drink I can barely taste when a familiar voice cuts in.
“Hey.”
Jake is standing beside the table, gym bag over one shoulder, hair still damp from his own workout. He looks between me and Jessi, then settles on me with a small, easy smile.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
We talk for a few minutes. He asks how the swim was. I give vague answers. Jessi fills the silences with easy chatter while I try not to stare at the way his shirt stretches across his chest. When he goes to leave he steps in and gives me a quick hug.
The contact is brief, but I feel everything.
How solid he is.
How warm.
How easily his arms could keep me there if he wanted.
The hard plane of his chest pressing against the new fuller weight of my breasts. My nipples tighten on contact. A low pulse of heat rolls straight down between my legs and makes my breath catch in my throat.
He pulls back, still smiling, completely unaware of what just happened inside my body.
“I’ll call you tonight. If you’re free.”
Then he’s gone.
The second the door closes behind him Jessi kicks me under the table, eyes sparkling with pure mischief.
“Oh my god. You’re so fucked.” She leans in, voice dropping so only I can hear. “He hugged you and you went full deer in headlights. A gym boy touches you and you melt. You’re not subtle today.”
I sink lower in my chair, face hot, and don’t deny any of it.
Because she’s not wrong.
And the System is still watching.
I leave the café still flushed. The walk home feels too long. I cut into the corner store for something cold to cool me down.
I’m in the drinks aisle when the door chimes again.
A group of guys pour in, loud, broad, clearly from the football team or a frat. They head straight for the same aisle, talking over each other about some party a couple nights ago.
“Dude, that blonde in the red dress, ”
“Nah, the one in the black top. Tits were insane.”
They spread out around me without noticing at first, reaching for cases and bottles. I’m boxed in. Shoulders and chests at eye level. The smell of them, sweat, cologne, gym, hits hard.
One leans past me for a six, pack and his arm brushes my chest. My nipples tighten instantly under the thin shirt. I grab the first cold bottle I see and try to slip out, but they shift and I’m still trapped between them.
My face is burning. The heat from the whole day spikes again. I can feel how wet I still am.
One of them glances down, then does a double, take.
“Wait, wasn’t that Ana?”
I’m already moving. I drop the bottle on the nearest shelf and bolt for the door.
Behind me, lower, one of them laughs.
“Damn. That ass in those shorts though.”
The words follow me out onto the sidewalk. I don’t look back.
My building has no elevator so I have to take the stairs, three flights and I’m home.
I hear footsteps behind me the second I start up. A guy. Close enough that I can hear his breathing.
First flight.
The shorts ride with every step. I can feel the fabric pull between my cheeks. I know exactly what the view must look like from behind, the new curve, the way the hem sits high. My face heats. I catch myself pushing my hips back a little more on the next step.
Did I do that on purpose?
Why does it feel so good knowing his eyes are on my ass?
The question hits and I hate how fast the answer comes. I can already picture what he’s imagining, hands on my hips, pulling the shorts down right here on the stairs, bending me forward, the thick press of him against me while I try not to make a sound. The image makes my clit throb hard. My face burns. I should hurry up, but I don’t.
The leftover heat from the pool is still sitting under my skin.
Second flight.
He’s still there. Same distance. I don’t turn around. My thighs are slick. Every stair makes the shorts shift against me. I keep the slight arch in my back without fully deciding to.
Third flight. My floor.
I reach the door and fumble for the keys. My hands are shaking.
Is he following me?
Is the aura on?
Is he going to come in after me? Force me down? Make me suck him? Bend me over the couch? Against the wall?
The images spin, fear and heat tangled so tight I can barely get the key in the lock. I never look behind me. The succubus part of me is hoping.
The lock turns. I push the door open.
His footsteps keep going. Up the next flight. Past my floor.
The fear drains out. The wetness and the throb stay.
I slam the apartment door behind me harder than I mean to.
The second the lock clicks I drop the tote bag, walk straight to the couch, sit down, and bury my face in my hands. A scream builds in my chest, the kind of raw, frustrated, manly roar I used to let out when everything went to shit. What comes out instead is high and cracked and unmistakably girly.
“Why can’t I stop looking at guys?!”
The words bounce off the quiet walls.
“Why am I so obsessed with how they look? How their muscles look? How their dicks look? What the fuck is happening to me? Is this succubus system so strong I can’t do anything about it?”
I stay like that for a long minute, breathing hard, face still buried in my palms. The new weight of my breasts presses against my arms. The fuller curve of my ass sinks into the couch cushion. Everything about this body keeps reminding me it’s not the one I went to sleep in a week ago.
Eventually I stand up and walk to the bedroom mirror. I strip everything off and just stare.
The System wasn’t subtle last night.
My breasts are perkier, fuller, a clear half, cup bigger. They sit higher and rounder on my chest.
My ass is noticeably bigger and bouncier; when I turn sideways the curve is deeper, softer. In contrast my waist looks even smaller, the new proportions making the hourglass shape impossible to ignore. I look… sexy. Objectively, undeniably sexy in a way the original Ana’s body hadn’t quite reached yet.
I don’t know what to do with that information.
I need to get guys off my mind. Right now. The leftover heat from the sauna, from Jake’s hug, from the older man’s cock under the towel is still sitting low in my stomach like a live coal.
When I was Ethan the solution was always simple: put on porn and take the edge off. Girl on girl porn usually worked best when I wanted something low, stakes and easy.
I grab my phone, drop onto the bed naked, and load up the first lesbian video that looks decent. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“Oh yeah,” I mutter, already reaching between my legs. “These two are sexy. Let’s get to it.”
I start rubbing my clit in slow circles, free hand rolling one nipple. The girls on screen are kissing, hands roaming, one of them going down on the other. I try to focus. I really try.
Barely anything.
The sensations are there, but muted. Almost boring. My body isn’t answering the way it usually does. I keep going for another minute, forcing it, but the heat stays flat and uninterested.
“…Okay. Fine. Maybe I’m just not in the mood for lesbians. Happens.”
I switch to the top trending straight video.
“Fuck… what I would do to a chick like that. Look at her. I’d bend her over, grab those hips, and just rail her. Classic. Easy. Just watch the guy work and imagine it’s me doing it.”
I start rubbing in slow circles, settling into the familiar headspace.
“Yeah… look at the way he’s holding her. He’s in control. He’s railing her so hard. That’s the part that always did it for me. The heat, the tight grip, the way she’s taking every inch. Just enjoy the show like normal. Nothing new here.”
My fingers keep moving. The wet sounds from the video fill the quiet room.
I start to stare, like I’m falling into a trance.
“She’s taking him so deep though…
Every thrust.
The way her mouth falls open when he bottoms out.
Must feel intense from her side too… the stretch, the fullness…”
My eyes drag over to the guy. The cut of his stomach, the way his hips snap forward, the thick line of his cock disappearing into her. Heavy. Veined. His balls draw up tight every time he drives in. I can’t stop staring at them. At the weight of it. At how full he looks.
“Fuck… look at that,” I mutter. “So thick. Those balls…”
I don’t notice the exact moment the angle flips. One second I’m still trying to stay in the guy perspective, the next my fingers have pushed inside and started matching his rhythm without me deciding to. When he drives in, I push deep. When he pulls back, I almost pull out.
“I can’t look away from it. The veins. The way it disappears inside her. How her pussy lips stretch around the base when he bottoms out… I want to know what that weight feels like. I want to know how hot it is against me. I want it pushing into me…”
On screen the guy pulls out and finishes in her mouth. Thick ropes spilling across her tongue.
My eyes stay locked on the exact stretch of her lips around the base even as he finishes. My own fingers continue pumping. The two sensations stack, screen and body, until I can’t separate them.
I actually swallow my own spit like it’s his cum, a soft needy sound leaving my throat.
“Fuck… it must taste so good…”
The orgasm hits hard and messy. My back arches off the bed, thighs shaking, a broken cry spilling out of me as I keep staring at the cock on screen until the screen fades.
It isn’t enough.
The heat is still there, low and insistent. I need more.
I swipe back to the POV section. Girl solo. Fingers, toys, close, ups of her own hand working her clit. Those used to do it for me. I watch for a full minute, rubbing in the same rhythm, waiting for the old spark.
Nothing.
Flat. Boring. My body barely notices.
I click the next one. Guy POV this time. His hand on her hip, the view down her back as he pushes in. I try to stay in that seat. Try to imagine the grip, the control.
Still nothing. Just the same dull ache that refuses to build.
I keep scrolling. Thumb moving faster. Another guy POV. Another. The heat sits under my skin but won’t catch.
My finger slips.
A girl POV loads. Through her eyes. All I see is what she sees: the thick cock in front of her face, the head glistening, the shaft wet as she takes it deeper, spit shining when she pulls back.
Then the view dips lower. His balls fill the frame. She licks across them, slow, wet. I watch her tongue drag over the tight skin, the way they shift under her mouth, the only thing in frame.
The heat hits like a truck.
I shove two fingers into my mouth without thinking, sucking hard, tongue working the pads the way hers is working his balls on screen. My other hand is already between my legs, three fingers pushing in, fucking myself in the same rhythm as her head moving. Wet sounds fill the room. I can’t look away from the stretch of her lips, the shine of spit on his balls, the soft sounds she makes when she takes him back into her mouth.
I come again, harder, moaning around my own fingers, hips jerking up to meet my hand.
Still not enough.
I don’t lie to myself this time. I search cowgirl. Find one. She sinks down slow, taking every inch, then starts riding. Up and down. The cock disappears and reappears, her thighs flexing, mouth open.
I match it.
I roll my hips and drive down onto my own fingers in the same rhythm, imagining the thickness, the way it would fill me, the slap of skin. My free hand grips my breast, pinching the nipple hard. The video plays. I ride my hand until my thighs burn and the orgasm tears through me, back arching, a broken cry spilling out as I keep moving through it.
I collapse.
Chest heaving. Fingers soaked. The phone still playing beside me.
A blue window blooms.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Energy stabilized.
Bonus reward from voyeurism: Temporary Complete Mental clarity.
Voyeurism?
That means someone was watching me.
My neck snaps toward the window. The curtain is slightly ajar.
A guy is on the balcony across the street. Shirtless. Phone lowered. Eyes locked right on me.
I roll off the bed and hit the floor, heart slamming, dragging the sheet with me. Out of sight. Breathing hard against the carpet.
He was watching.
The whole time.
The mental clarity hits. I can think. I can feel how wet I still am and how the thought of his eyes on me while I came makes my clit throb all over again.
I can’t believe someone was watching me.
But I bet I looked really hot.
What am I even saying.
I stay on the floor until my breathing slows, then crawl to the bathroom. The shower is already running in my head before I turn the knob. Hot water. Soap. I wash everything. The mental clarity holds. My hands stay where they’re supposed to. No extra touches. No lingering. I finish, step out, and wrap the towel tight and sit on the couch.
In the moment of silence I realize…
I’m fucked.
My mind has been overwritten. Whatever the System did last night when it said “mind and body changes have been completed” wasn’t just about the extra soft tissue on my chest and ass. The things that turn me on have been rewritten. Lesbian porn, something that used to work fine, does almost nothing. Straight porn only works when I put myself in the girl’s place. And the only thing that gets me truly wet now is the idea of a man.
A real one.
Hard.
Inside me.
I stare at the ceiling and start running the mental gymnastics because that’s all I have left.
Maybe it’s temporary.
Maybe the aura and the rewards and the constant quests are just keeping me in a heightened state and once I get the energy reserves stable the old preferences will come back.
Maybe if I avoid looking at men for a few days the new wiring will fade.
Even as I think it I know it’s cope.
The System has been methodical. Every quest, every reward, every punishment has pushed me further from Ethan and deeper into something that wants to be fucked by men. The Override didn’t just control my hands, it made my body agree with the words it forced me to type. The aura made strangers touch me and made me freeze instead of fight. Last night’s “mind change” was just the System making sure the attraction stuck.
Logical next steps, then.
One: I have to keep Ana’s life intact. That means continuing to see Jessi to maintain the friendship, continuing to answer Jake so I don’t get punished, continuing to show up to things so no one files a missing, person report on the real Ana.
Two: I need more information. The campus library books about local succubus folklore are still sitting there waiting. Tomorrow I go. No more putting it off.
Three: I have to be careful with Jake. Every interaction feeds the System. Every photo, every flirty line, every hug makes the next Override easier to trigger. If I can keep him at a slow burn maybe I can stay in control of the pace.
Four: I need a better way to manage the hunger than public close calls and panicked masturbation. The vibrator helps, but it’s clearly not enough anymore. The System wants partnered energy. I don’t know how long I can keep refusing that.
I roll onto my side, new breasts shifting heavily against each other, and close my eyes.
A week and a half ago I was a guy who jerked off to whatever was convenient.
Now I’m a girl who just came hardest to the idea of swallowing a stranger’s cum and I’m already wondering how long I can keep pretending that bothers me as much as it should.
The System stays quiet.
It doesn’t need to say anything else.
It already won this round.
After a couple of hours of contemplating and scrolling my phone for potential answers.
My phone starts ringing.
Jake’s name is on the screen.
I stare at it for two full rings, heart already picking up speed. The blue System window blooms into existence before I can even decide whether to answer.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Incoming call from male prospect: Jake.
Requirement: Achieve orgasm during the call.
Failure will result in immediate Host Override.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Arousal amplification active.
Host remains in control.
Oh no…
I accept the call with a shaking thumb.
“Hey,” Jake’s voice comes through, warm and casual. “You free?”
“Yeah,” I manage. My voice already sounds thinner than I want. “Just got home.”
I put him on speaker and set the phone on the pillow beside my head. The System’s amplification hits almost immediately, a slow, deliberate wave of heat rolling through my stomach and settling heavy between my legs. My nipples tighten against nothing. I’m already wet. My free hand slides down without me fully deciding to, two fingers finding my clit and starting slow, reluctant circles.
“How was the rest of your day?” he asks.
“Fine. nothing special.” I push a finger inside myself and bite back the soft sound that tries to escape. The amplification makes every small movement feel sharper, wetter. “Yours?”
“Just finished at the gym. Thought about that hug earlier.” There’s a smile in his voice. “You tensed up. In a good way, I hope.”
My fingers move faster. The memory of his solid chest against my new fuller breasts sends another pulse of heat through me. I add a second finger and start thrusting in time with the slow circles over my clit.
“Maybe,” I whisper.
“Maybe?” He laughs softly. “You’re hard to read, Ana. In a fun way.”
I twist one nipple hard and have to turn my face into the pillow to muffle the moan. The System is listening. I can feel it. If I stop, if I fail to come while his voice is still in my ear, it will take over again. I don’t know what an Override during a live call would look like, and I don’t want to find out.
“Tell me about the gym,” I say, voice already shaky. “What did you work today?”
“Chest and arms. Got a pretty solid pump.” He pauses, then adds with a low, joking tone, “You wanna see?”
My breath catches. The amplification makes the simple question feel like a direct line to my clit. I’m shaking when I answer.
“Yes.”
A few seconds later the message notification pops up on the screen. I open it with my free hand, fingers still buried inside myself.
It’s another shirtless mirror photo. Grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The thick, clear contour of his cock is pressed against the soft fabric, half, hard and unmistakable. His abs are tight, still slightly damp from the workout.
I zoom without thinking until the head shape and the way the fabric tents fill the screen. A thin string of my own wetness drips onto the sheet while I stare.
My eyes lock onto it and refuse to move.
The outline.
The way it sits heavy against the sweatpants.
The hard lines of his stomach leading straight down to it.
“Nnh…”
The soft sound slips out before I can stop it. My fingers slam against my clit in tight, desperate circles while I keep staring at the photo. The combination of his voice still in my ear and the clear shape of his cock under the fabric is too much. The orgasm crashes through me hard and sudden, thighs shaking, a broken cry half, muffled into the pillow as my walls clamp down around my fingers.
I stay frozen for a few seconds, breathing hard, eyes still fixed on the picture.
“…Ana?” Jake’s voice is a little lower now. “You still there?”
“Yeah,” I manage, clearing my throat. “I’m here. You look great in the pic by the way”
There’s a short pause.
“Thanks. You sound… different. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The post, orgasm haze is thick. My thoughts feel slow and soft. “Just tired.”
“Alright.” He sounds amused. “Your turn then. Show me what you’re working with right now.”
In the delirious afterglow I don’t even argue. I lift the phone, angle it toward my flushed face and bare shoulders, and take a quick selfie. My cheeks are pink, lips parted, eyes half, lidded. I look exactly like a girl who just came.
I type the caption with clumsy thumbs.
Ana:
getting ready for bed
I hit send before the smarter part of my brain can stop me.
The photo stays open on the screen. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, the top of my cleavage, the soft just, came look in my eyes. I stare at it. My clit gives one last involuntary throb.
Jake’s reply comes almost immediately.
Jake:
Fuck…
you look really good like that good night, hope to see you soon ;)
I lock the phone and drop it on the mattress beside me, still breathing hard, fingers still wet, the System’s quiet presence lingering at the edge of my awareness like it’s satisfied.