Chapter Six
Daniel
I go home stinking of sex and guilt. I’ve been taking what I’ve always wanted. She’s been giving it to me so fucking willingly. But do I get to keep taking it when she doesn’t know whose mind rests in this massive masculine frame?
I could fuck her for the rest of our lives and she’d never know. But if I want a future with her, I have to tell her.
Or do I?
Does she truly not know? I always thought it was unbelievable that Lois never recognized Clark Kent when he became Superman. A leotard and some glasses don’t change a man that much. I have been transformed far more thoroughly.
When I look at myself in the mirror, my jaw is broader and more powerful, so is my brow. My eyes are no longer wide and large looking. They are proportionate to the masculine muscle of my face. The bones themselves are changing structure every time I take a dose.
We saw that in the rat tests. Neutered males started taking on the characteristics of entire males. I have been neutered up until this point. I have been a pathetic waste of a man, good only for complaining to.
My bearing has changed. My scent has changed. There is more musk to it. I have become a prouder, stronger, more dominant specimen. My treatment doesn’t just work. It works beyond my wildest dreams. It hasn’t merely healed the physical wounds I sustained all those years ago when I stood at the precipice of manhood and laid my body down for Briarlee. It has mended the psychic scars that were inflicted at the same time.
She’d been out fucking that night. I’d smelled it on her then, along with the alcohol. She reeked of cum. One of the football team had been ramming her. Possibly more than one. She was starting to get a reputation, though I didn’t believe it until that night, when I picked her up with her smeared lipstick and her skirt barely covering her ass.
It wasn’t her fault. She was just a girl. Boys and men alike take advantage of the innocent. She’s not innocent anymore. I’ve made sure of that. I’ve made her take my cock over and over. I’ve made her admit her sins. But I’m not done revealing little Briarlee to herself. I will have her again. And again. And again. And she will know who she is with, not because I’m afraid she’ll stop, but because I want her to know beyond a shadow of a doubt whose cock makes her come like the world is ending.
Chapter Seven
Briarlee
He’s back. My heart skips a beat as I go to the door. I am showered and dressed up as if I intend to go out, but I have no intention of going anywhere. This dress that clings to my curves isn’t for anyone’s eyes but his.
He’s wearing new clothes. A black leather jacket that makes him look broader than ever. Dark slacks. Heavy black boots. It’s the uniform of a man whose purpose is to slay my pussy.
This is how I think now, in filthy phrases. I wake up wet. I touch myself when he is not here, and I think of all the things he has done to me, and all the things I hope he will do. He has made me every bit as depraved as him, if not more.
“Hi,” I smile invitingly.
He walks in as if he owns the place. “Close the door.”
I close it, because I was going to anyway. Can’t have a neighbor coming by and seeing me in the state he puts me in. They’d call the cops for sure.
He walks in, turns around, and fixes me with that gaze that makes me freeze. Sheer silent command.
“I have something to tell you.”
“Oh?”
Usually by now my dress would be halfway off. My tits would be hanging down beneath me as he bends me over, holds my hands behind my back, and shoves himself into me by way of a hello.
“My name is Daniel Knight.”
“Fuck off.”
The words escape my mouth before I can stop them. They’re a reaction I can’t help, the same way my lower leg would kick out if you tapped the lower part of my knee with one of those little rubber reflex hammers.
He doesn’t chastise me for swearing. He stands there, letting it sink in. Looking at me, taking in my every reaction.
“You’re not Daniel.”
“Of course I am. You know who I am. You’ve known all along. You knew the minute you saw me in that club.”
“I didn’t!” I gasp. “Daniel, you don’t look like Daniel. You don’t act like Daniel. You’re not Daniel.”
“But I am,” he says calmly. “And you can see it, if you look close enough with your eyes, instead of acting with your cunt.”
He says the crude words without any real derision. There’s no judgement in the way he knows I am around him. Our lust is an intoxicant I am fast becoming addicted to.