Chapter 31: Uncontrollable Expansion
The silence that followed was heavy, textured with sweat and spent breath and the sour tinge of regret. Sophie lay crumpled on the rug, a small, pale knot of limbs and exhaustion. She didn’t move to cover herself. The air was cool on her slick skin.
Clare pulled her legs together, a feeble attempt to reclaim some boundary. Sophie’s hand slid out of her with a wet, final sound. The emptiness that rushed in was immediate, a cavernous ache. She drew Evie’s oversized sweater down over her thighs, the wool scratchy and alien against her oversensitive flesh.
Evie stood over them, her new body a stark column in the slatted light. Her cock, already beginning to soften, was a grotesque, beautiful thing, glistening with mixed fluids. She looked down at it, then at Clare, then at Sophie. Her expression was one of profound, unsettling distance.
“You should go,” Evie said, her voice flat. She wasn’t looking at Sophie, but the command was clear.
Sophie blinked, her post-coital haze evaporating. She pushed herself up on shaky elbows, her movements clumsy as she gathered her discarded trousers. “Right. Yeah.” She didn’t look at Clare. She couldn’t meet Evie’s eyes. She dressed quickly, the silence screaming. At the door, she paused, her hand on the knob. She half-turned, her profile sharp in the doorway. “That… your thing. It got bigger. While you were inside me. I felt it.”
Then she was gone, the click of the latch echoing in the stagnant room.
The apartment settled around them, every familiar object now foreign. The coffee cups were relics from a different epoch. The medical journal lay splayed on the floor, its pages a silent accusation.
Evie finally moved, walking stiffly to the bathroom. Clare listened to the sound of the sink running, the rough scrape of a washcloth. She didn’t follow. She stared at the dark spot on the couch cushion, a damp Rorschach test of everything that had just happened.
When Evie returned, she had a towel wrapped around her waist again, her glasses back on. They magnified her eyes, which held a fractured, haunted look. She stood across the room, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. A fortress.
“Well?” Clare said. The word cracked in the middle.
“Well what?”
“What was that?”
“You tell me.” Evie’s tone was careful, neutral. “You brought her in here. You put her hand on you. You ordered her to fuck you with it.”
“And you fucked her!” Clare’s voice rose, sharp with a betrayal that felt hollow even as she voiced it. “You saw me there, you saw I was… I was needing you, and you shoved your… that thing into her instead.”
A muscle ticked in Evie’s jaw. “You were using her. I was just following your lead.”
“Don’t you dare,” Clare snapped, surging to her feet. The sweater fell around her like a tent. “Don’t you dare pretend this is about me. I saw your face. You liked it. You liked making her take it. You liked proving what it could do.”
Evie pushed off the doorframe. “Of course I liked it!” The sudden shout was a shockwave in the quiet room. “For the first time in my fucking life, I liked it! I wasn’t the one faking, Clare! I wasn’t the one closing my eyes and thinking of some goddamn video! I was there! And she… she couldn’t get enough of it. She was scared of it. She was awed by it. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
The raw pain in Evie’s voice pinned Clare to the spot. This wasn’t about Sophie. It was about every unsatisfied sigh, every unspoken disappointment, every time Clare had bitten her own lip to keep from crying out in frustration.
“So it’s about power,” Clare said, her voice dropping.
“It’s about not feeling broken!” Evie’s fists clenched at her sides. The towel loosened. “You wanted a solution. This is the solution. It’s ugly and it’s terrifying and it’s growing inside me like a goddamn tumor, but for five minutes, Clare, it made me feel like I could finally give you what you need. And then you…”
“Then I what?” Clare’s own anger flared, hot and defensive.
“Then you redirected it. You made it a show. You made her a prop. It wasn’t about us. It was about you proving you still had the remote control.” Evie’s breath hitched. “My body is doing this… this insane thing, and you’re treating it like a new toy in your collection. To be used. To be shown off.”
Clare crossed the space between them, stopping just out of reach. The metallic scent was stronger up close, emanating from Evie’s skin. “I’m scared, Evie,” she whispered, the confession torn from her. “I’m terrified. You’re changing. I’m changing. That thing with Sophie… it was fucked up. It was wrong. But I felt… something happening to me, too. When you were in her. It was like I could feel it.”
She reached out, her fingers trembling, and touched Evie’s bare stomach, just below the navel. The skin was hot, taut. She slid her hand down, over the towel, until her palm cupped the soft, heavy weight of Evie’s flaccid cock through the fabric.
Evie flinched but didn’t pull away. A low groan escaped her. “Clare…”
“It’s still there,” Clare murmured, her thumb stroking the thickening shape. She felt it twitch, a sluggish, responsive pulse under her touch. “Even after… it’s still so big.”
“It doesn’t really go down anymore,” Evie said, her voice thick. “Not all the way. It just… gets hard again. Faster every time.”
The implication hung between them. A perpetual state of readiness. A need that could not be sated.
Clare’s own need, a mirror image, throbbed in answer. She dropped to her knees on the hard floor, the sweater pooling around her. She looked up at Evie, whose face was a conflict of shame and desire. Clare untucked the towel, letting it fall.
Evie’s cock lay against her thigh, a foreign appendage of flushed, heavy flesh. It was already filling, blood rushing into it with a visible, distending throb. It was a terrifying sight. Clare leaned forward and took the head into her mouth.
The taste was complex—salt, sweat, Sophie, herself, and underneath it all, that faint, coppery tang of the serum. It was bitter and electric on her tongue. Evie gasped, her hands flying to Clare’s head, not to push her away, but to fist in her blonde hair.
Clare took her deeper, forcing her jaw wide, letting the thick shaft press against the back of her throat. She relaxed into the gag reflex, embracing the uncomfortable stretch. This was penance. This was worship. This was trying to consume the problem whole.
“Fuck, Clare,” Evie moaned, her hips giving an involuntary jerk. Her cock bumped against Clare’s throat. “You don’t have to…”
Clare pulled off with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the glistening tip. “Yes, I do,” she said, her voice ragged. “I need to understand it. I need to know what I asked for.” Her own small, thickened clit was a hard, insistent ache between her legs, dampening the sweater beneath her. She was starving.
She took Evie deep again, her head bobbing with a desperate rhythm. She used her tongue, swirling it around the broad head, tracing the swollen veins. She sucked with a hollow-cheeked ferocity, wanting to drain the change, to pull the mutation out through the slit. Evie’s breathing became ragged pants. Her fingers tightened painfully in Clare’s hair.
“I’m gonna…” Evie warned, her voice strangled.
Clare redoubled her efforts, her own hips grinding against nothing on the floor. The pressure was building at the base of her own spine, a sympathetic echo. She wanted Evie to come. She wanted to swallow the proof.
Evie’s orgasm was a violent, buckling thing. She threw her head back with a guttural cry that was nothing like her old, soft sounds. Her hips pistoned forward, fucking into Clare’s mouth with a savage, uncontrolled force. Clare took it, her eyes watering, her throat working convulsively as thick, bitter spurts flooded her mouth. She swallowed, once, twice, the taste more metallic than ever.
As Evie shuddered through the last pulses, Clare felt it. A familiar, deep ache in her own jaw, a tightening in her neck muscles. And lower, between her own legs, a sudden, lurching swell.
She pulled back, coughing, a trickle of semen on her chin. Evie, spent and panting, looked down. Her eyes widened.
“Clare,” she breathed.
Clare didn’t need to look. She could feel it. A stretching, a firming, a painful, delicious expansion. Her own clit wasn’t just hard. It was growing, lengthening, pushing insistently against the confines of her pajama shorts, tenting the wool of Evie’s sweater.
She scrambled to her feet, stumbling to the full-length mirror by the door. She yanked the sweater and shorts down.
In the dim light, she saw it. Her clit was no longer just a prominent bud. It was a proper shaft now, perhaps three inches long, thick and veined and standing proud from her folds. It was a miniature, paler version of Evie’s. It pulsed visibly with her heartbeat.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. She’d swallowed Evie’s come, and her body had responded. It was a feedback loop. A contagion of need.
Evie came up behind her, her reflection looming over Clare’s shoulder. She wrapped her arms around Clare’s waist, her hands splaying over Clare’s stomach. Her still-substantial cock pressed against the small of Clare’s back.
“It’s happening to you, too,” Evie whispered, her voice a mix of horror and a dark, twisted awe.
Clare stared at her transformed self in the glass. The confident lawyer was gone. In her place was a creature of raw, desperate hunger. Her new cock twitched.
“It needs friction,” Clare heard herself say, the words sounding distant. “It aches.”
Evie’s hand slid down, over the coarse hair, and closed around Clare’s new growth. Her touch was firm, possessive. Clare cried out, her knees buckling. The sensation was dizzying, a direct line to her core.
“I know,” Evie murmured into her ear. She began to stroke, a slow, sure tug. In the mirror, Clare watched her own face contort, watched Evie’s focused expression. Watched her own small cock disappear and reappear in Evie’s fist.
“Turn around,” Evie commanded.
Clare obeyed, her body moving on instinct. Evie pushed her back against the cool mirror, the glass shuddering. She dropped to her knees, her face level with Clare’s groin. She didn’t hesitate. She opened her mouth and took Clare’s new cock inside.
The world shattered. It was nothing like clitoral stimulation. It was deeper, a primal, shocking pleasure that radiated up through Clare’s pelvis into her gut. Evie’s mouth was hot and wet and infinitely skilled. She sucked with a knowledge that was instinctual, as if her own transformation had taught her exactly how to use it.
Clare’s hands slammed against the mirror, her head thrown back. “Oh god, right there, suck it, just like that,” she babbled, her lawyer’s vocabulary incinerated. Her hips jerked, fucking into Evie’s mouth with a shallow, frantic rhythm.
Evie moaned around her, the vibration making Clare see stars. One of Evie’s hands came up, fingers plunging into Clare’s soaked cunt alongside the shaft in her mouth. She was everywhere, claiming every altered inch.
Clare’s climax built with terrifying speed, a tsunami gathering force from a new, deeper epicenter. It wasn’t a release; it was an possession. Her body seized, back arching away from the mirror. A raw, ragged scream tore from her throat as she came, not in pulses, but in a continuous, shocking flood of sensation that seemed to have no end.
When it finally ebbed, she sagged against the glass, slick with sweat. Evie stayed on her knees, her forehead pressed against Clare’s trembling thigh. She was breathing hard.
Clare looked down. Her cock, her beautiful, monstrous cock, was still hard. Still aching. A drop of clear fluid beaded at the tip.
It hadn’t gone down at all.
From her place on the floor, Evie looked up, her glasses fogged, her lips swollen. She saw the bead of moisture. A slow, exhausted, knowing smile touched her mouth. It wasn’t a happy smile.
“Welcome to it,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Clare slid down the mirror to join her on the floor. They sat in the wreckage, shoulder to shoulder, their altered bodies touching. The vial on the nightstand glinted in the lamplight, a tiny, malevolent star.
The hunger was still there. In both of them. A low, perpetual thrum. It wasn’t satisfied. It was just getting started.