Chapter 7: Interested?
The changing room curtain whispered shut behind Ash. Cool boutique air prickled against the bare skin of her midriff exposed by the navy tank top. She clutched the pile of discarded baggy clothes – the grey hoodie, the loose joggers – like a shield she no longer quite needed, or wanted. Her gaze stayed fixed on the polished floor tiles, the floral scent she now carried feeling amplified in the hushed luxury of the boutique. She could feel the snug embrace of the jeans around her newly curved hips, the gentle lift of the bra beneath the thin cotton tank, the way the fabric skimmed the swell of her breasts.
"Wow." Will’s voice was low, almost stunned. It wasn't just the word; it was the breathy quality, the slight catch. Ash dared a glance up. Will stood frozen a few feet away, his shopping bag dangling forgotten from one hand. His piercing blue eyes weren't just looking; they were tracing the lines of the tank top, lingering on the dip of her waist where the denim began, sweeping up to meet her gaze with an intensity that made her stomach flip-flop. "Ash… you…" He swallowed, seemingly searching for words beyond his initial reaction. "The jeans… they fit perfectly."
A blush, hot and immediate, flooded Ash’s cheeks. She’d modeled for ex-girlfriends before, endured awkward compliments. This felt seismic. "Y-yeah?" she stammered, her voice smaller than intended. She shifted her weight, the movement highlighting the curve of her hip, the snug fit across her rear. The familiar deep ache pulsed low in her belly, a constant thrum beneath the surface of this surreal moment. "Not… not too much?"
"Too much?" Will let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. He took a step closer, his gaze softening, becoming more focused. "Ash, you look…" He paused, seeming to reconsider his words. "Remember what I said? Beautiful. It wasn't… it wasn't just something to say." He reached out, his fingers hovering near the soft cotton of her tank sleeve, not quite touching. "It really suits you. All of it."
His nearness sent a jolt through her. The floral scent seemed to thicken, wrapping around them. His eyes held hers, the blue suddenly deeper, more magnetic. The confusion, the fear about her changing body, the weird ache – it all receded for a heartbeat, replaced by a warm, terrifying pull. She saw his gaze flicker down to her lips, just for an instant. Her breath hitched. The acceptance drug hummed, smoothing the edges of panic, amplifying the sudden, dizzying rush of attraction.
"Will," she whispered, the name barely audible.
It was all the invitation he needed, or perhaps the permission he sought from himself. He closed the small distance between them. His hand, no longer hovering, came up to gently cup her jaw. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, a feather-light touch that sent sparks skittering down her spine. His other hand settled tentatively on her waist, right above the denim band, his palm warm through the thin cotton. The contact sent a fresh wave of that deep internal ache, but it was tangled now with something else, something hot and urgent.
He leaned down slowly, giving her time to pull away. She didn't. She tilted her face up, her green eyes wide, reflecting the boutique lights and his own conflicted desire. His lips met hers.
It started soft, tentative. A testing of waters both strange and shockingly familiar. His lips were firm, warm. The floral scent enveloped her, mixed with the clean, masculine scent of him – salt and soap and sunshine. A small, involuntary sound escaped her throat, a gasp that melted into a sigh against his mouth.
That sound ignited something. Will’s kiss deepened, becoming less cautious, more possessive. His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, pressing her closer. She felt the hard planes of his chest against the new softness of hers. Her own hands, trembling, found their way up – one clutching the fabric of his shirt at his shoulder, the other tangling hesitantly in the hair at the nape of his neck. The feel of his muscles beneath his shirt, the texture of his hair between her fingers – it was intoxicating. The deep ache flared again, sharper, lower, a counterpoint to the heat spreading through her core.
Forgetfulness washed over her. Forgetfulness of the ship, the weird gas, Susan, the impossible changes happening inside her body. There was only this: the pressure of his mouth, the scrape of his stubble, the secure weight of his hand on her back, the dizzying contrast of his strength against her new softness. She kissed him back, her movements clumsy at first, then gaining confidence, matching his hunger. Her smaller body arched instinctively against his, seeking more contact, more friction. She felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her lower belly through the denim, a discovery that sent a fresh bolt of heat and that strange, slick wetness gathering between her own legs.
Across the ship, in the dim, humming control center bathed in the glow of multiple monitors, Susan Cruz leaned back in her ergonomic chair, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her face. On one screen, a high-definition feed from a discreet boutique camera captured the passionate embrace. Ash, transformed in form-fitting feminine clothes, melted against Will, their bodies a study in burgeoning desire. The tension, the hesitation she’d monitored earlier, had combusted.
"Phase Three ignition," she murmured to herself, her voice a satisfied purr. Her fingers danced across the console with practiced ease, pulling up biometric overlays on the couple. Ash’s heart rate spiked, endorphins surged. Will’s arousal markers were unmistakable. The acceptance field hummed at optimal levels within their vicinity, a soft, pervasive coercion.
But it wasn't enough. The kiss was electric, undeniable, but Susan saw the faint tremble in Ash’s fingers clutching Will’s shirt, the micro-second hesitation before Ash kissed back. The biological imperative needed a stronger nudge. The mental scaffolding of acceptance needed reinforcing.
"Excellent progress," she acknowledged, her eyes gleaming with cold fascination. "But let's ensure commitment, shall we? Eliminate… residual dissonance." She selected a sub-menu, bypassing several safety protocols with quick authorization codes. A soft chime confirmed the command.
In the boutique, pressed against Will, lost in the heat of the kiss, Ash suddenly felt it. Not pain, but a profound shift. A wave of pure, chemical euphoria washed through her bloodstream, warm and golden. It wasn't like the gas chamber’s fog; this was sharper, cleaner, targeting the pleasure centers with pinpoint accuracy. The last vestiges of analytical thought – Why does this feel so good? What is happening to me? – dissolved like sugar in hot tea. The deep ache in her core transformed, no longer just an ache but a molten pulse of need, perfectly synchronized with Will’s body against hers, with the heat of his mouth. Her hesitation vanished. She moaned, low and wanton, into the kiss, her body pressing flush against his, her hips making an instinctive, seeking roll against the hardness she felt. What ever penis remained between her legs hardened in her new jeans. The tiny prick still hidden by the tightness of her skinny jeans.
The sales lady watching this unfurl in front of her. Just smiling, because its a singles cruise, and she's seen it hundreds of times with other couples. However the store policy was firm, to stop any activity that would result in sexual escapades, so she made her way over and cleared her throat. ech uhm "Excuse me you two. Im all for new couples making out. But please dont do it in the store. Especially near the changing rooms. "
The sales clerk’s sharp throat-clearing sliced through the humid air of the boutique. "Excuse me, you two. I’m all for new couples making out, but please don’t do it in the store. Especially near the changing rooms." Her voice, laced with practiced tolerance, felt like ice water dumped over Ash.
Ash jerked back as if electrocuted. The warm, golden euphoria Susan had pumped into her veins evaporated instantly, replaced by a scorching wave of pure, humiliated panic. Will’s lips, the taste of him, the feel of his hard body – it all vanished, replaced by the stark reality: the fitted tank top clinging to her breasts, the skinny jeans outlining every impossible curve, the slick wetness between her legs, and Will’s unmistakable erection pressing against her just seconds ago. Her own tiny, trapped hardness throbbed painfully against the denim seam. The floral scent turned cloying, thick with shame. "Oh god," she choked out, her voice a ragged whisper. She couldn’t look at Will, couldn’t face the clerk’s knowing smirk. Her face burned crimson.
She whirled around, nearly tripping over her own feet in the unfamiliar, constricting jeans. The pile of discarded baggy clothes, her old armor, lay crumpled on the floor near the changing room. She ignored it. Escape was the only thought. She practically fled towards the gleaming chrome counter at the front, leaving Will stunned and rigid in the aisle. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird, the deep internal ache, no longer molten need but a cold, sickening throb.
Will stood frozen, rooted to the spot. The sudden absence of Ash’s warmth, the soft press of her body, left him reeling. He watched her retreating back, the way the navy tank top dipped low between her shoulder blades, the way the tight black jeans hugged the full, perfect swell of her backside as she stumbled away. A confusing mix of intense frustration, lingering arousal, and profound concern warred within him. His own body still hummed with the phantom sensation of her. We were gonna go for a walk, he thought numbly, the words echoing in the sudden silence of the boutique, his gaze fixed on her shrinking figure. Perhaps there will be another chance.
Ash slammed the sleek black credit card Susan had given them onto the cool marble counter with trembling fingers. "These," she gasped, gesturing wildly behind her at the clothes she was wearing – the tight jeans, the revealing tank top, the bra beneath – without looking. "And... and the other things. Everything he picked." Her voice was high, strained. She couldn't bring herself to look back at Will, couldn't face the look she imagined on his face: shock, pity, disgust. The sales clerk raised an eyebrow but efficiently began scanning the tags Ash hadn't even removed, her expression unreadable.
Will finally managed to move, his legs feeling like lead. He slowly gathered the remaining items – the sundress, the cardigan, the silky top, the heels, the bra and panty set – and walked them to the counter, placing them beside Ash. He kept a careful distance, sensing her brittle tension. "Ash..." he started, his voice rough, uncertain. The name felt different now.
Ash flinched at the sound of his voice, her shoulders hunching. She stared fixedly at the counter, focusing on the clerk’s manicured nails tapping the screen. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the soft beep of the scanner and the distant thrum of the ship's engines. Her reflection in the polished chrome of the cash register was a distorted blur of flushed skin, wide, frightened eyes, and shaggy, slightly longer brown hair framing a face that wasn’t quite her own anymore. The deep ache pulsed again, a cruel reminder of the impossible transformation happening beneath the clothes she now wore, purchased with Susan’s blood money.
In her dim control center, Susan Cruz watched the feed from the boutique camera – Ash’s panicked flight, Will’s frozen confusion, the awkwardness thick enough to choke on. A slow, satisfied smile played on her lips. The kiss had been better than anticipated, the chemical surge perfectly timed. The interruption? Merely a catalyst. Ash’s mortification, Will’s conflicted desire… it was fertile ground. She tapped her console, pulling up the next protocol. "Residual hesitation noted," she murmured to the glowing screens. "Biological synchronization at 78%. Emotional entanglement initiated." Her finger hovered over an icon labelled 'Deep Integration Sequence'. The walk on deck would be… instructive. Time to ramp things up. She selected the command. Another 12 or so hours before she's 100% women. I think that her hair might need to be a new shade, and a little longer. Let's see if I can do a speed transformation like her eyes. Maybe a vibrant Red hue. Susan pressed the options on the tablet. She also read Ash's remaining penis size and noted that she should start shrinking and absorbing the rest of it to fuel the remaining transformation inside Ash. Ovaries take the longest to form. So those wont be done until the following day. Now. Their activities tomorrow should reflect their growing attraction to one another.
The boutique door hissed shut behind them, cutting off the overly perfumed air and the sales clerk’s judgmental stare. The sudden shift to the salt-tinged breeze of the deck corridor hit Ash like a physical blow. She stumbled slightly on the unfamiliar sleek decking, the tight jeans restricting her stride. Will’s left arm shot out, his hand landing firmly on her waist, steadying her.
"Easy," he murmured, his voice rough. He didn’t let go. His palm was warm, solid, anchoring against the disorienting swirl of panic, the lingering chemical euphoria, and the deep, insistent throb low in her belly. The bag of remaining clothes – the sundress, the silky things, the heels – swung heavily in his right hand.
Ash flinched at first, stiffening under his touch. The memory of the kiss, the clerk’s interruption, the sheer exposure of these clothes… it all flooded back. She wanted to shrink, to disappear back into baggy anonymity. But Will’s grip was insistent, possessive almost, pulling her close against his side. The heat radiating from his body was undeniable. And beneath the panic, that treacherous warmth, amplified by Susan’s unseen chemical nudge, pulsed in response. She didn’t pull away.
"Where...?" Ash started, her voice catching. She glanced up at him, her hair catching the bright deck lights, which seemed different but not so much that it was noticeable, as a strand brushed her cheek. His blue eyes, sharp and searching, met hers. They flickered, widening slightly at the sight of her irises, now a startling, luminous emerald green. He noticed. Of course he noticed.
Will’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her firmly against his side as they stepped onto the sun-drenched deck. Salt spray hung in the air, mingling with the floral scent blooming from Ash’s skin. "Just walk," he murmured, his voice rough against her ear, the deck stretching before them along the ship’s gleaming rail. The tight jeans restricted Ash's stride, forcing a shorter, more swaying step she couldn't control. She felt exposed, hyper-aware of the denim clinging to her hips, the tank top revealing the curve of her neck and shoulders, the way the push-up bra lifted her chest. Will’s arm anchored her, his thumb rubbing a slow, unconscious circle just above her hip bone.
A sudden, sharp itch prickled across Ash’s scalp, intense enough to make her gasp. "Ah!" Her free hand flew up, fingers tangling in her shaggy brown hair. It seemed… thicker. Softer. And was that a strand near her temple shimmering with a hint of unfamiliar, vibrant red? "My head," she whispered, scratching frantically.
"Hey, easy," Will soothed, stopping their walk. He turned her slightly, concern etching his features as his gaze traced the irritated spot. His fingers gently brushed hers aside, probing her scalp with surprising tenderness. "Looks fine. Just… sensitive?" His blue eyes, sharp and assessing, flickered down her face again, lingering on her now unnaturally emerald green eyes – the startling change he’d noticed moments before. "Your eyes… they’re brighter. Greener. Like… sea glass." His thumb brushed her cheekbone, a mirror of his touch in the boutique. The gesture sent a fresh wave of heat through her, clashing with the confusing itch.
Simultaneously, a different sensation bloomed low in Ash’s groin. A familiar stiffness, but muted, trapped. Her remaining penis, nestled awkwardly and diminished within the tight denim seam, began to stiffen against all logic. It wasn't arousal like before; it felt mechanical, wrong, like a puppet string pulled by invisible hands. She shifted uncomfortably, the pressure intensifying, the denim suddenly abrasive against the trapped, thickening flesh. The deep, familiar ache pulsed beneath it, a constant counterpoint.
Beneath the deck, bathed in the cool blue glow of monitors, Susan Cruz watched the couple pause. Ash’s hand in her subtly reddening hair, Will’s proximity. Perfect. She tapped her tablet decisively. The 'Deep Integration Sequence' icon pulsed under her finger, confirming activation. "Scalp follicle acceleration: active. Residual phallus absorption sequence: initiated. Target: complete atrophy within 18 hours." Her gaze shifted to Ash’s biometrics – heart rate elevated, endorphin levels spiking in tandem with confusing physical sensations. "Ovarian maturation: 65%. Uterine lining prep commencing." She scrolled through tomorrow’s itinerary, a predatory smile touching her lips. "Let’s deepen that bond, shall we?"
Her stylus hovered over the schedule. She deleted the generic 'Couples Mixer'. In its place, she typed: Morning: "Trust & Tension" Workshop (Deck 7 Solarium): Blindfolded sensory exploration, guided partner touch, vulnerability exercises. She highlighted it. Mandatory attendance. Next: Afternoon: "Rhythm & Release" (Private Suite 412): Synchronized movement, close-contact dancing, facilitated intimacy building. Susan leaned back, tapping the stylus against her chin. The suite was prepped; soft lighting, low music, strategically placed cushions. A controlled environment to escalate touch, to leverage the chemical haze and Ash’s accelerating transformation. She added a final note: Evening: "Moonlit Confessions" (Observation Deck): Facilitated sharing under stars, emotional bonding reinforcement. Guaranteed proximity. Guaranteed vulnerability. Guaranteed progress. The commands were live; Ash’s body was responding, her mind softening. Will was already hooked. Susan saved the schedule. Phase Four was ready.
Back on deck, Ash trembled slightly against Will, caught between the maddening itch deep in her scalp and the insistent, unwelcome pressure building in her groin. The stiffness felt alien now, a shrinking piece of her old self making a final, uncomfortable stand against the tide of change washing through her. She pressed her thighs together, trying to alleviate the pressure, the movement causing the tight denim to rub against the rigid nub. The deep ache underneath it throbbed, a constant reminder of the new structures forming, hungry for space. "It's… everything feels weird, Will," she confessed, her voice small, her emerald eyes wide with confusion and a dawning, drug-smoothed acceptance. "My head tingles. And… down there… it's… tight. Stiff. But wrong."
Will frowned, his protective arm tightening further around her waist. He looked down at her, really looked. The vibrant green of her eyes was undeniably new, mesmerizing. The subtle shift in her hair color, the soft waves seeming fuller already. The distress on her face was real, cutting through the lingering fog of the boutique kiss. He saw the way she subtly shifted her weight, the discomfort in her stance. The residual stiffness she mentioned… he could almost picture it, trapped and shrinking beneath the tight jeans he’d chosen. The thought was confusing, unsettling, yet intertwined with the undeniable pull he felt towards this person becoming Ashley. "Weird how?" he asked gently, his hand moving up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers gently massaging her itchy scalp, his gaze dropping to where the snug denim met the soft cotton of her tank top low on her hips. "Tell me." The floral scent wrapped around them, thick and sweet. Ash leaned into his touch on her scalp, the itch momentarily soothed, while the pressure below intensified, a trapped echo fading against the relentless ache of the new.
Will’s frown deepened, his gaze flicking from her face to the uncomfortable way she shifted her weight. "I think…" he started, his voice low, almost hesitant. He glanced around, the busy deck filled with couples strolling, laughing, oblivious. His hand slipped from her head to her elbow, his grip firmer, guiding her. "Come on," he murmured, steering her towards a secluded corner, away from the prying eyes and chatter. The quieter space was a relief, the air still filled with salt and sun, but the constant hum of the ship seemed distant here.
Ash followed, her steps faltering slightly in the tight jeans, her body still humming from the mix of chemicals and change. Will led her to a spot nestled between two tall potted palms and a lifeboat station, a quiet nook overlooked by the bustling deck beyond.
His grip on her elbow tightened, a silent insistence that made Ash look up at him. His eyes, so piercingly blue, held a mix of concern and determination. "Ash, listen to me," he said, his voice low but firm. "I'm not... into penises. But I can see you're uncomfortable. Let me help."
Ash flushed, her heart pounding in her chest. The words, so clinical and unexpected, made her insides twist. She looked down, her gaze sliding over the tight, constricting jeans, the swell of her hips, the small, straining bulge obvious beneath the denim. She hesitated, her hands reaching for the waistband, then pulling back. The thought of exposing herself to Will, of letting him see her like this, was terrifying. But the pressure was unbearable, the stiffness alien and wrong.
She lowered the jeans enough to expose her 2 inch penis. "Ash. Remember this moment ok. That im taking care you. " William lowering himself in front of it.
He was going to do this for her. Ash felt a wave of mortification heat her cheeks, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to look away, to avert her gaze from this most intimate and embarrassing predicament, but her eyes were glued to the sight of him kneeling before her, his strong hands reaching for the fastening of her jeans. "What are you...?" she stammered, her voice barely audible, her fingers clutching the denim at her hips, an instinctive attempt to shield herself. But she couldn’t pull away, couldn’t break the spell of his steady, determined gaze.
Will glanced up at her, his blue eyes unwavering, a mix of compassion and decisiveness. "Ash, it's okay," he said quietly, his voice steady, his hands deftly unbuttoning her jeans. "I'm just helping. And taking care of you." He moved his mouth closer to it , his warm breath brushing against her skin. Ash's heart was pounding in her chest, her body stiff with a mix of humiliation and an unfamiliar, deep-seated vulnerability. Yet, beneath it all, there was a spark of trust, a willingness to surrender to his touch. He whispered, "Let me help," his voice so husky and low it sent a shiver down her spine. She nodded, a small, jerky motion, her hands clenching the denim tighter, her eyes fixed on the top of his dark head. Will’s hands were gentle but firm, slowly pushing her jeans down, revealing more of her thighs. She felt the breeze on her exposed skin, slick with shame and a new, strange ache. The deep, hollow throb between her legs seemed to echo Will’s whispered promise, resonating with a desperate, wordless need.
Wills lips easily wrap around the 2 inch penis. Wills inexperienced motion was rough on Ash. But didn't feel all that bad.
Ash’s body trembled with a confusing mix of embarrassment and relief. The exposure was absolute, the sensation of Will’s warm, wet mouth strange and unexpected. It had never felt like this before. The stiffness in her groin had been a persistent, alien presence, but now, under Will’s mouth, it felt… different. The pain of the shrinking was still there, a deep, hollow throb, but it was also laced with an unfamiliar pleasure. A weird, deep wetness gathered between her legs, slick and foreign.
The sensation was too much, too intense. Ash's knees buckled with tye sensation. Making her cum. But it wasn't like an evacuation. More internal. As will continued to pick the small penis, it began to be absorbed into Ash. Until it was no longer a penis, but the tip of her new clitours.
Her new vagina was forming. The center of her ache. The swelling was intense. "AH!" Ash cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, her body convulsing as the transformation escalated. Will’s mouth stayed put, his inexperience causing an awkward tug, but somehow, it still felt good. Too good.
Will heard her cry and looked up, his mouth still wrapped around her. He saw her face contorted in pain and pleasure, her eyes screwed shut, her body convulsing. He hesitated, then pulled back, his hands gripping her hips to steady her. "Ash?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
"Ooh. Wiiiillll. Ehhhh... Thank you" Ashley said breathy from completely changing. Will smiled and lifted her jeans back into place and continued their walk.
They had a lovely stroll around the ship. Talking about their lives, their hopes, dreams and ambitions. Will laughed when Ash mentioned her obsession with tigers. "You are kidding me right? Tigers? I can't see myself sharing a house with a tiger. I am more of a cat person myself. Fluffy and cute, not fierce and scary."
"No, Will. You don't understand. Tigers are majestic, powerful and beautiful. They are not scary. They are dangerous, yes, but only if you anger them. I mean, have you seen a tiger up close?" Ashley thought to herself. Why was she so excited. Why couldn't she stop talking. It was like a switch was flipped and she loved expressing herself. Ashley carried on, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I mean, have you seen a tiger up close? Their eyes are like embers, and their stripes... they're not just markings, they're like a work of art. Each one unique, like a fingerprint." She gestured wildly, her hands painting the air as she spoke. It felt strange, this newfound confidence to talk about something she loved so much, but it also felt right.
Will raised an eyebrow, a soft chuckle escaping him. "I've seen them in zoos, yes. But I can't say I've had a close encounter with one." He leaned against the ship's railing, his strong arms folding across his chest. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, the warmth in them making Ashley's heart flutter. Ash stopped talking about tigers, and blushed looking out into the vast ocean. "So Will. I have to ask. Why did you take care of me back in that corner?" She asked leaning into his side as she nuzzeled her head into his arm. "I mean honestly. You sucked my penis to help me. Theres got to be more than that?" Will looked down at Ash, her head resting against his arm, a soft flush still high on her cheeks. He could feel her breath, warm and steady against his side, and the subtle shift of her body as she leaned into him. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the deck, and the sea breeze carried a hint of salt and distant laughter.
"Well," Will began, his voice low and thoughtful, "I've never been one to leave someone in distress, especially someone I care about." He reached down, gently tucking a strand of Ash's vibrant, reddening hair behind her ear. "And I guess, deep down, I wanted to help" William's second chance at that kiss was here and he took it.
His lips brushed against Ash's, gentle and warm. It wasn't a passionate move, but a tender one, a promise that he was here for her. He felt her body relax against his side, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, her fingers tracing the roughness of his stubble. She sighed softly, a sound of contentment and relief, and kissed him back.
Their lips met softly, a gentle exploration that deepened as the seconds passed. Will's hand, still nestled in the small of Ash's back, pulled her closer, his other arm wrapping around her waist to secure her against him.
Wills hands lowers to her buttocks. As if he was gonna lift her from their. But just pulls her even more into him.
Beneath her new clothes, Ash felt like she was transforming into a different person. Every curve, every touch – it all felt right, but strange at the same time. She could still feel the deep ache between her legs, the new structures forming, hungry for space. Her body, now more feminine, was responding to Will’s touch in ways she never expected. Will's hands, strong and sure, squeezed her buttocks possessively, as if he was about to lift her off the ground. The move was unexpected, making Ash gasp into his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his waist instinctively, pulling Wills crotch closer to hers. Everything about this was primal. But there was still a bit of hesitancy from Ash. She pulled away and ran down the Ship's Deck, both embarrassed, turned on, and confused.
Eill slowly stood up and just smiled, his eyes lingering on Ashley's form as she ran away.
Susan Cruz watched the feed, her smile widening. "Perfect. Just perfect." She typed in a few commands, pulling up Ashley's information. "Full integration phase initiated. Increase biochemical synchronization. Intensify emotional bonding." She tapped a few more keys, setting an alert for the morning.
Ash sat on a bench on the 2nd deck, away from everyone and prying eyes. She sat with her hands in her Face Ash she struggled to comprehend whats going on, but somehow accepting whats she's becomes.
"What is happening to me? Why am i feeling like this?" She thought to herself, "Why can't i stop thinking about Will? And why do i feel like this? Like everything has changed. But also like everything is the same. And why do i... why do i want this so badly?"
She looked down at her hands, at the smooth, unblemished skin, the slender fingers, the perfectly manicured nails. They looked so... delicate. She had never felt more like herself, yet so utterly foreign. She felt like she was waking up from a long, strange dream, only to find that she was still dreaming.