I lay in a hotel bed panting beside the bombshell I had just finished screwing. After I helped her escape from the lair of the sinister Dr. Doomstriker, she had been so overcome with emotion that she practically threw herself at me. Of course, I wasn’t all that surprised. Working as a secret agent, I’m accustomed to sleeping with all sorts of beautiful women in the heat of a mission. Sometimes it’s business, sometimes pleasure, usually both.
This particular woman, however, stood out. She was easily the most beautiful and the most vivacious in bed, but I also felt like we shared a profound connection from the first moment we met, it almost seemed like destiny. I was still marvelling at the pleasure we had just shared, when the woman said something odd. “Thank goodness we got a good fuck in before it was too late.”
“Listen, my dear,” I said, trying to sound reassuring, “the car we escaped in was the only one in the whole compound that didn’t blow up. We’ve got a 200 mile head start, and as soon as we cross the border, my team will be able to extract us. You don’t need to worry about Dr. Doomstriker anymore.”
“So cocky,” she said with a mischievous grin, gently caressing my penis, still flaccid and sticky from our recent exertions. “Though you have a right to be. When I was captured, I just knew you were going to come to my rescue.”
“How could you have known that?” I said, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“I’m going to miss you, Alpha,” she replied. “And that big meaty dick of yours.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, suddenly on edge. “You just called me Alpha. But the only one who knows that nickname—”
“Disappeared?” she offered, finishing my sentence. “On a mission to explore Doomstriker’s operation, right? I guess I can’t blame you for not recognizing me.”
“Mack?” It couldn’t be. Shawn Macpherson was the toughest son of a bitch I had ever worked with. There was no way this dainty, sex-craved nymph could really be my old partner. But then she twisted around and lifted her hair to show me the scar on the back of her neck. I recognized it immediately. It was a knife wound Mack had incurred saving my life from an assassin in Bangkok. “What the hell?” I screamed. Not only was my best friend a beautiful blonde, but we had just fucked like mad. “How the fuck . . . and why did you . . . ?”
Mack, or Sasha, as she had introduced herself to me, was incredibly casual about the whole thing. “It was Dr. Doomstriker,” she said. “He’s developed a compound that transforms anyone who ingests it – male or female – into a hypersexual woman. If someone meddles in his affairs, stands in his way, or even just irks him, they end up joining his personal harem of sex slaves.”
I looked at my friend in horror. “Does that mean that you . . . with Dr. Doomstriker?”
Sasha’s eyes grew hazy, and a dreamy smile curved her lips upward. “I know he’s evil,” she said, “but that man really knows how to please a woman. From the moment he entered me, I’ve craved the feeling of his big beautiful member sliding in and out of my wet pussy. I’m getting horny again just thinking about it.”
My insides were churning listening to this description. “Mack – er, Sasha, look. We’ll fix this. We’ll break whatever hold he has on you.”
But she shook her head, long blonde hair dancing around her sultry features. “It’s too late,” she said. “Too late for me. And too late for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
For the first time, Sasha seemed uncomfortable. She looked away and refused to make eye contact. “I’m sorry Alpha, but I had to do it. He made me promise. It was the only way he would let me suck his cock.”
“Sasha, what did you do?”
“The wine,” she said. And then I realized that she was staring at the wine glasses we had emptied somewhere in the process of falling into bed together. “I put the compound in your wine. You should start changing any second.”
It all clicked. The tingling on the back of my neck, the chills, the churning in my stomach. It wasn’t nerves; it was the beginning of a transformation. I was going to be a woman. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, wondering if my voice had always been that high. “We’ll find a way to fight it. The team will extract us, the lab will change us back, and everything will go back to normal.”
Sasha giggled.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I shouted. My voice was definitely higher, and my anger sounded like petulant whining. My hands were shaking as they grew smaller and thinner. Hair was trickling down over my ears. There was a burning in my chest as flesh began to push out of my bare chest. “No, no, no, no, no,” I groaned, feeling my lips plump up as I pouted. “NO! I will not be some mindless sex slave.”
But Sasha just smiled and said, “Trust me. You won’t be able to resist.”
