"The First is progressing nicely."

"Has she reached full maturity yet?"

"No, but soon. She is growing stronger and her glorious meat key is nearly developed."

"Could she be the Alpha Queen we are looking for?"

"I believe so. But only time will tell."

"Yes. Good. Continue to observe."

"Yes, Overseer."

CHAPTER 3

Susan stood in the center of her makeshift home gym. The air was thick with the scent of iron, sweat, and the faint hint of something more primal—something that emanated from deep within her. 

She had been at it for hours, pushing herself to new limits. One rep, then another, and another. Each time she pushed the barbell upward, her muscles swelled a little more, the veins in her arms and chest becoming more pronounced. Her skin, already stretched to accommodate her newfound strength, creaked softly with each rep, as if struggling to contain the power within. She looked like a CrossFit athlete and she loved it.

Her thighs, already massive, thickened with every movement. The veins snaking across them looked like roads across a map of flesh and skin, filled with mountains and valleys. Sweat poured from her brow, dripping down her back and over her shoulders, leaving trails of moisture that traced the ridges of her muscles.  

She loved it, the feeling of strength and power coursing through her veins. But as she continued to lift, a thought crept into her mind: How long would these home weights be enough for her? She was getting stronger every day, and soon, she knew these weights would be too light, too easy.

As she racked the barbell after an intense set of squats, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her reflection was a sight to behold—her muscles were defined and bulging, her skin glistening with sweat. She flexed her arms, watching with a mixture of pride and fascination as her biceps swelled.  Every inch of her was covered in a sheen of sweat, her skin stretched taut over the muscles that had grown larger, harder, more defined.

She looked down and saw the elephant in the room, her clit. Could it be called that anymore?

Every time Susan dived in to an intense workout, the clit above her increasingly swollen pussy began to change along with the rest of her body. What had started as a small, barely noticeable protrusion was now a prominent feature in the middle of her crotch. Each time she exerted herself, lifting heavier weights, pushing her muscles to their limits, the clit seemed to grow in tandem with her strength.

Susan pulled her yoga pants down, getting a good look at the thing. She was actually wearing a pair of Goerge's boxer briefs, as it had more room for this new growth. The skin around the erect clit was taut, making it so she could feel it whenever she moved or shifted in her bench. It was no longer completely smooth and featureless; thin veins had begun to emerge, snaking across its surface, faintly visible beneath the new skin. These veins seemed to throb in time with her heartbeat.

With every rep, every curl, every squat, the clit would swell slightly, as if feeding off the energy and effort Susan poured into her workout. The sensation was impossible to ignore—a dull, persistent ache that intensified as she pushed her body harder. It was as if the clit was connected to the very core of her being, responding to her physical exertion with a mind of its own

As she grunted and groaned through her final set, she could feel the clit throbbing more intensely than ever, the ache spreading through her abdomen, sending tendrils of sensation into her chest and down her thighs. It was an almost electric feeling, a combination of pain and pleasure that left her breathless.

The veins on the clit pulsed more visibly now, the blood coursing through them pushing them outward. The skin over it creaked as it stretched, mirroring the sounds of her muscles expanding. The clit was growing a little larger with each moment, pushing against the fabric of her workout clothes, making its presence hard to ignore. It was undeniably noticeable, jutting out from between her legs like a strange finger without a nail. It throbbed again with an insistent ache, demanding her attention, drawing her into it.

She admired it, despite the unsettling nature of its growth. Her hand moved almost on its own, hovering over the clit as if compelled to touch it. The skin there was sensitive, tingling with every slight movement. When she finally brushed her fingers against it, a rush of endorphins flooded her system, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

But as she stood there, her hand resting on the pulsing nub, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered that something was wrong. Deep down, she knew this wasn't right. This growth, this thing attached to her body, was not natural. It was alien, foreign, and yet it was becoming an integral part of her, each passing moment.

Susan couldn't help but smile at it. The sensation of power it brought, the way it responded to her strength, was exhilarating. It was as if the nub was a physical manifestation of the transformation she was undergoing—a symbol of her growing dominance and power. And was that so bad? Besides, she thought, it was kind of beautiful. 

Just then, she heard a hesitant voice from behind her. "Excuse me, dear?"

It was George, standing at the edge of the room, sniffing at her scent, his posture tentative, his face unsure. Susan turned sharply, her eyes narrowing. "Didn't I tell you not to interrupt me?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip.

George flinched at her tone, his eyes wide with fear. Susan felt a sudden burst of endorphins rush through her at his reaction. The power she held over him was exhilarating, and she couldn't help but smile as she saw him cower slightly. She walked over to him, her expression softening as she reached out to pet his head like one might soothe a frightened animal.

Susan felt a moment of disgust as she gazed upon him. Her husband, this man, this thing, was pathetic, she thought. She suddenly realized that she wanted to hurt him... it. She wanted to beat it into submission. She imaged it looking up at her, blood dripping down his dumb face, with a black eye and missing teeth. She shook the thought away. 

"Awww, baby. Did I scare you?" she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. She traced her fingers along his jawline, enjoying the way he recoiled at her touch. "Ok, ok, what did you want to ask me?"

George swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he spoke. "I... I wanted to ask about visiting my family over the holidays. It's coming up, and we should—"

Before he could finish, Susan cut him off with a sharp, "No!" Her voice echoed in the small room, leaving no room for argument. She stepped closer, towering over him, her presence overwhelming. "We are going to my family's for the holidays," she declared, her tone final.

George opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Susan grabbed his pants at the crotch and squeezed the balls within with a force that made him wince. "Sorry, George," she said, her voice low and threatening. "I've decided, and you don't want to upset me. Do you?"

His eyes went wide with fear, the pain from her grip evident on his face. "N-no," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

Susan released his testicles and patted him on the head as if rewarding him for his compliance. "Good hubby," she said, her voice laced with mock affection. She turned away from him, her focus shifting back to her reflection in the mirror.

She admired her form, the way her muscles bulged and rippled under her skin. She flexed her arms, her chest, her legs, each movement sending a thrill through her body. She was powerful, more powerful than she had ever been, and she knew it. The control she had over George was a part of that, her reward for being better.

"I'm going to Book Club tonight," she said casually, still admiring herself in the mirror. Seeing the confused look on his face, she continued, "Yes, I know. Book Club isn't for a few weeks. I called them for an early meeting so that... um... you know what? I don't need to explain myself. Don't wait up."

With that, she turned her back on George, dismissing him as if he were nothing more than an afterthought. She returned to her workout, her mind already focused on the next set, the next challenge. George lingered for a moment, watching her, before quietly retreating from the room.

Susan and Vicky sat in the cozy living room of Vicky's house, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains. The air was warm, filled with the scent of the freshly brewed tea Vicky had prepared for their emergency Book Club meeting. The room was inviting, but the atmosphere was tense. Vicky stood on the far side of the room, her hands fidgeting nervously, while Susan lounged comfortably on the couch, her presence commanding and self-assured.

"Thank you for hosting the meeting here on such short notice," Susan said, her voice smooth and composed. "I would have had it at my place, but honestly, I've been sick of being around George recently."

Vicky forced a smile, her voice cheerful but strained. "Of course. No problem."

But Susan's sharp eyes caught the unease in Vicky's demeanor. The way she stood so far away, the nervous glances she kept casting toward Susan—it was clear something was wrong. Susan tilted her head slightly, her expression curious but with an edge of suspicion. "What's wrong?" she asked, her tone gentle, but with an underlying firmness.

Vicky's smile faltered for a moment before she quickly plastered it back on. "Nothing. Nothing," she replied, her voice a bit too high-pitched. She swallowed nervously, her eyes darting away from Susan's piercing gaze.

Susan's expression shifted from concern to something sterner, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed Vicky's behavior. "No, something's wrong. Is this about the other day? I thought we came to an understanding," Susan said, her tone becoming more authoritative. Her gaze locked onto Vicky's, unyielding.

Vicky's breathing grew more rapid, her chest rising and falling with each anxious breath. She stayed rooted to her spot across the room, clearly conflicted. "Um... no. I'm fine, Susan. I'm just—"

"Come here," Susan interrupted her voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Vicky hesitated, her face flushing with a mix of fear and confusion. She bit her lip, her feet refusing to move. "Susan, I—"

"Come here!" Susan's voice cut through the room like a knife, sharp and commanding. She pointed at the floor in front of her, her eyes blazing with intensity.

Vicky flinched at the tone, her eyes wide with alarm. "Yes, ma'am!" she blurted out, her feet moving almost of their own accord as she walked quickly to Susan's side. The words "Yes, ma'am" had come out without her even thinking, and the realization of it made her heart race even more.

Susan felt a surge of satisfaction at Vicky's quick obedience. The way she had said "ma'am" sent a pleasurable tingle through her, reinforcing the sense of control she had over her friend. "Yes, come here. Give me a hug," Susan commanded, her tone softer but still filled with authority.

Vicky hesitated for the briefest moment before stepping closer, allowing Susan to pull her into a tight embrace. As Susan pulled her in, Vicky was immediately aware of the power behind those arms—arms that were no longer soft and slender, but thick, hard, and unyielding.  Vicky could feel the solid muscles of Susan’s chest and abdomen pressing against her, the hard lines of her physique clearly evident even through the layers of clothing. The hug wasn’t just a comfort; it was a demonstration of dominance, of the physical superiority Susan now possessed. Vicky’s mind raced as she struggled to comprehend how much Susan had changed, both physically and mentally. Vicky gasp when see felt something else; a hard, unsettling thing poking at her stomach through Susan's clothes. It was strange and terrifying.

Susan squeezed Vicky firmly, her hands moving up to stroke her hair in a comforting gesture. "There, there," she murmured soothingly, her voice a mix of warmth and dominance. "You don't have to worry. Not around me. Remember? You're special. Yes? Say, 'I don't have to worry.' Say it."

Vicky's heart pounded in her chest, panic rising as she felt the unnatural presence of the nub against her. But as she took in a deep breath, something shifted. The panic began to fade, replaced by a strange, calming sensation. It was as if all her fears were being washed away by the sound of Susan's voice, by the firmness of her grip.

"I don't have to worry," Vicky repeated, her voice slow and almost lazy, as if she were in a trance. "Thank you... Susan."

"Good girl." 

Susan smiled as she released Vicky. The power she held over Vicky was intoxicating, the way she could mold her friend's emotions with just a few words. "There. See? Just listen to me and you'll be okay," Susan said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Just then, the distant sound of a car door closing echoed from outside. Susan turned her head toward the window, a look of anticipation crossing her face. "Oh! They’re here," she said, a note of excitement in her voice.

Barb and Lucy walked into Vicky’s living room, their footsteps slowing as they took in the scene before them. Susan and Vicky were sitting on the couch, side by side, but it was Susan who drew their attention. The transformation she had undergone was impossible to miss—her body was a far cry from the Susan they once knew. Her muscles were defined, bulging under her clothes, her posture exuding a confidence that bordered on arrogance. The air in the room felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension.

Barb’s mouth fell open in shock, while Lucy’s eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and fear. "What... is going on?" Lucy finally managed to ask, her voice shaky. "How is this possible?"

Susan turned her gaze toward them, her expression one of amused satisfaction. "Does it matter?" she replied, her tone light but with an underlying edge. She stood up, deliberately flexing her arms slightly as she did so, making the muscles bulge even more. "Don’t I look great?"

Lucy’s shock quickly turned to concern, her voice rising as she spoke. "It isn’t natural, Susan! What’s happening to you isn’t normal." She exchanged a quick glance with Barb, who nodded in agreement, her face pale with worry. "What you did at the gym. Lifting those crazy amounts of weight, and then you grabbed me. It wasn’t right. You should see a doctor—or a therapist—before things get worse."

Barb chimed in, her voice trembling slightly. "I saw you, too, Susan. In the parking lot. You grabbed that man—I don’t even know what was happening, but it wasn’t normal. Maybe Lucy’s right. You need help."

Susan’s expression darkened, a flash of anger crossing her face. She took a step forward, her muscles tensing as if readying for a confrontation. "What are you talking about? I’m fine! I’ve never felt better in my life." Her voice was firm, but there was an undercurrent of frustration that hinted at her barely contained temper. She turned to Vicky, her gaze intense. "Vicky, back me up."

Vicky, caught between her own unease and the strange compulsion she felt to support Susan, nodded sheepishly. "I... I think she’s fine, girls. She looks... and smells... great." Vicky’s voice was hesitant, but her last statement came out with a strange, dreamy conviction. "Come smell her."

Lucy recoiled slightly, stepping back in disbelief. "What? Smell her? Are you kidding me? What’s wrong with you, Vicky?"

Barb’s concern deepened, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of what was happening. "Listen, Susan, why are we here? What’s with the early meeting?" Her voice was firm but laced with worry.

Susan took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she tried to regain control of the situation. "I wanted to show you how good I look. I thought you’d be happy for me, but instead, you’re all acting like something’s wrong."

Before anyone could respond, a faint ding echoed from the kitchen. Vicky looked up, her expression brightening as she remembered the food. "Oh, I need to check on the spinach dip," she said quickly, rising from the couch and hurrying out of the room.

As Vicky disappeared, Lucy crossed her arms, her face set in determination. "I’m serious, Susan. If you don’t start explaining what’s going on, I’m leaving."

Susan’s eyes narrowed, but she managed to keep her voice calm. "Please, just wait. I’m going to go talk to Vicky, and then when I come back, I’ll explain everything." She flashed a tight smile, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension in the room was palpable.

Barb and Lucy exchanged uneasy glances, both unsure of what to make of the situation. After a moment, Lucy sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Fine," she said finally, her voice resigned. "But you’d better have some answers, Susan."

With that, Susan turned and walked toward the kitchen, leaving Barb and Lucy standing in the living room, their minds racing with questions and doubts.

Susan walked into the kitchen, her mind swirling with frustration and confusion. She had hoped the emergency Book Club meeting would go differently, that her friends would be impressed, maybe even envious of her transformation. Instead, it had been a disaster. She needed to regroup, to figure out how to bring them all under her influence, to make them understand and accept her new reality.

As she entered, she saw Vicky standing by the window, staring blankly outside. The light from the setting sun cast a golden hue over her, making her look almost ethereal. Susan started to speak, her voice heavy with the weight of her earlier conversation. "This isn’t going like I thought it would. I think..." She trailed off as she noticed Vicky's distant expression. "What are you looking at, Vicky?"

Vicky turned slowly, her movements almost robotic, her eyes unfocused. She looked at Susan with a mixture of longing and fear, her voice soft and trembling. "I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. I feel so drawn to you... but... it’s... wrong."

Susan's frustration quickly turned to alarm. She could sense Vicky slipping away, losing the fragile control she had over her. Panic set in, and she rushed to Vicky, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders. "Not you too," she whispered, her voice tinged with desperation.

Vicky flinched under Susan's grip, caught in a terrifying tug-of-war between her new, overpowering feelings for Susan and the instinctual urge to escape. "I... I... want to please you, Susan," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes. "It’s just... it’s just..."

Susan’s grip tightened, her nails digging into Vicky's skin. The tears only served to infuriate her, the weakness she perceived in Vicky sparking a deep, primal anger. "No!" Susan shouted, shaking Vicky with a sudden, violent jerk. "I told you my secret! You should be grateful!"

Vicky’s tears spilled over, streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Susan with a mix of fear and heartbreak. Her trembling only seemed to enrage Susan further. "Why are you so weak?!" Susan snarled, her voice growing darker, more menacing. "You need to be... stronger. Strong like..."

Susan's head began to spin, her thoughts muddled and chaotic. In that moment, an alien voice whispered in her mind, its presence unsettling and foreign. At first, it was nothing but gibberish, a cacophony of sounds that made no sense. But as Susan struggled to continue speaking, the voice began to take shape, the words becoming clearer, more insistent.

"Strong... like..." she murmured, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe as the voice echoed in her mind, repeating the same phrase over and over again. "Convert her."

The realization hit Susan like a lightning bolt. Her eyes widened in crazed understanding as the alien voice's command solidified in her mind. "Strong like me!" she screamed, her body convulsing as the power within her surged to the surface.

A strange sensation welled up in Susan's crotch, where the alien thing had been slowly growing. It felt as though something deep within her was awakening, a force she had kept at bay, but now it was pushing against her control, demanding release. Her senses were all heightened; the lights in the kitchen, her clothes brushing against her skin, and the smell of fear on Vicky. 

She glanced down, to see her thing begin to pulse and swell. The clit beneath pushed outward, inch by inch, tenting her pants until it strained against the material. Susan’s breath quickened, each inhale a ragged, needy sound as the pressure built. She tried to resist, to hold it back, but her efforts were futile.

Vicky looked on in stunned silence, her hands at her face, holding an expression frozen with a mixture of horror and fascination. Her mind wanted desperately to flee, but her body wouldn't allow it.

With a soft moan, Susan felt the clit surge again, the sensation running through her like an electric current. The fabric of her pants was pushed to its limit, and with a sharp, tearing sound, it gave way, the cloth ripping apart as the appendage forced itself through. There it stood, slick and twitching, a full-on, fully formed cock. It reached to the ceiling, a pink pole with a large purple dome at it's head. The flesh was thick, meaty, pulsating with veins that seemed to carry more than just blood—a dark energy resonated within the very core of her newly grown dick; and then, slowly, it dimmed away. 

Susan looked at it, mouth agape. It longed to be stroked, but she dared not touch it. Susan gasp as it pulsed once again and grew even more. Then again. And again. Each time the cock grew, Susan couldn't help but let out a low, throaty groan, the sound primal and almost feral. Her muscles tensed, her body involuntarily arching toward the growth, as though it were not just a part of her, but the very center of her being. The appendage throbbed, its veins pulsing rhythmically with her heartbeat, and with each beat, it grew larger. Five inches. Six inches. 

Vicky hadn't moved. She was hyperventilating through her fingers. Eyes wide and wide. She was like a deer stuck in headlights, with no idea of how to rationalize what was happening before her.

Suddenly, Susan felt a sharp, tingling sensation in her skull, as if something was forming there, something new. A gland, foreign yet familiar, was growing within her brain, connecting directly to her dick. This new organ seemed to tap into her natural maternal instincts, twisting them, perverting them into something that drove her to nurture, to protect, this beautiful baby cock. She could feel this new gland linking her mind to her growing dick, flooding her thoughts with a single, overpowering urge: to make it grow, to make it strong, and to use it.

With each mental push, the appendage responded, surging forward, thicker, heavier, more alive. The skin stretched further, the veins throbbing with a relentless pulse, and Susan could feel the pressure mounting in her head, driving her forward with an unyielding desire to feed this growth. The noises she made became more guttural, more feral, as if each push was ripping away a piece of her old self, replacing it with something darker, more dominant.

At the final stage, as the dick grew to a full nine inches, Susan tried to resist one last time, her old self screaming that this was wrong, that she had to stop. But the new gland in her head overpowered her thoughts, sending a wave of pleasure through her body, making her eyes roll back, eroding what willpower she had left, as she gave in completely. The final push was a surrender, an acceptance of what she was becoming.

Her body convulsed her hands, finally, reached down and grasped the huge thing, gripping the cock as it pulsed one last time, now fully formed and ready. She let out a long, animalistic moan, a mix of pain, pleasure, and a dark satisfaction. In that moment, as she looked at the grotesque, pulsing appendage, a twisted smile spread across her face. Susan knew... she was ready. 

Vicky’s gaze was unwavering, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto the huge dick that now jutted from between Susan's legs. The sight of it was horrifying, but there was also something mesmerizing about it, something that called to her on a deep, primal level. She inhaled long and deep, catching a whiff of the thing. The dick smelled like Susan, that sweat scent that lulled her into this submissive state, but it was stronger, more powerful. 

Seeing Vicky like this, so obedient, so complacent, brought a feeling that reminded Susan of the scene she had with her in the restroom at the cafe. The urge to enter her, to infect her, to spill her essence inside her; but this time the impulse was a hundred times stronger. It was mandatory on a biological level.    

"Suck it, bitch," Susan commanded, one hand grasping her impressive cock, the other pointing directly at it.

Without thinking, Vicky fell to her knees before Susan, her mind blank except for the overpowering need to submit. She put her arms behind her back, opened her mouth as wide as it would go, and stuck her tongue out, giving Susan an obvious path down her willing throat. 

Susan acted without hesitation. She grabbed Vicky’s head with both hands, her fingers closing into fists in Vicky’s hair, and pulled her friend closer to her thick, beefy, needy cock. 

"Be strong like me, Vicky!" Susan commanded her voice a mix of authority and desperation.

Vicky’s mouth widened more, though it seemed impossible, and her tongue wiggled and curled suggestively. Her breathing was ragged and uneven as she was pulled in by Susan's strong arms. Then she was stopped, her mouth hovering just above Susan's throbbing purple mushroom. After a brief pause, where the two women faced each other, panting in the kitchen, her face was forced into Susan's long dick. It was a deliberate, smooth action. Vicky's mouth and throat widened as the thing pushed itself deep inside her. 

Vicky gagged and choked, and for a moment she hesitated, unresponsive to the massive dick that lived in her mouth now. Her body trembled with fear and anticipation. But then something in her mind clicked, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she finally gave in. She secured her lips around the cock, placed her tongue along the shaft, and began to suck, her mind-numbing as she accepted all and everything that was happening to her.

* * *

Barb and Lucy sat in Vicky's living room, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. The air was heavy, filled with the faint sounds of the house settling and the distant hum of a car passing by on the street. Barb's eyes darted nervously around the room, her unease growing with each passing minute. She fidgeted with the hem of her blouse, her mind racing with concerns she didn't dare voice out loud.

"Did you hear that?" Barb suddenly asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her ears had picked up a faint, unfamiliar noise—a low, almost guttural sound that seemed to come from deep within the house.

Lucy glanced up from her phone, where she'd been half-heartedly scrolling through social media, trying to distract herself from the strangeness of the evening. "No," she replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. She wasn’t in the mood for more weirdness tonight. "I didn't hear anything."

Barb pursed her lips, her unease growing. "Where’s the kitchen, anyway? Why are Susan and Vicky taking so long?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but the anxiety in her tone was impossible to miss.

Lucy shrugged, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. "I don't know," she said flatly, her patience clearly wearing thin. "But I'm not going to wait much longer. This whole evening has been weird, and I’m about done with it."

Barb turned to face Lucy more directly, her brow furrowing as she weighed her next words carefully. "What do you think about what's been happening with Susan?" she asked, her voice low and cautious. "I mean, do you think it's something... ungodly?"

Lucy hesitated, her expression conflicted. She'd been avoiding that very question since she first saw the shocking changes in Susan. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice softer now, as if the words were hard to say. "Something’s definitely wrong, but I don't know what. It's... it's not natural, that's for sure."

Barb nodded slowly, her fingers twisting together in her lap. The idea that something ungodly could be at play terrified her. Susan had always been a friend, but the transformation she had undergone—the strength, the power, the way she seemed to revel in it—felt wrong on a fundamental level. "We need to be careful," Barb murmured, more to herself than to Lucy.

Just as the silence between them started to stretch, Barb's head snapped up, her eyes wide with alarm. "There!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "Did you hear that?"

Lucy sat up straighter, her heart skipping a beat as she strained to listen. This time, she couldn’t deny it—there was a noise, faint but distinct, coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was a low, unsettling sound, almost like a moan or a growl, something that sent a chill down her spine.

* * *

In the dimly lit kitchen, the air was thick with breath and sweat. Vicky was on her knees, her eyes half-lidded and glazed over, completely entranced by the dick strouting from Susan, her best friend. She sucked on it with a strange, mechanical rhythm, arms limp at her side, her mind barely registering the act, as though she was under some kind of spell. The thick cock pulsed within her mouth, warm and alive, its veins throbbing. 

Susan, standing over Vicky, was lost in a haze of euphoria. Susan helped Vicky along by guiding her head, firmly, back and forward. Susan's body was pumped full of endorphins, rewarding her for this dark act. Each thrust forward, each time she pushed her beautiful cock deeper into Vicky’s mouth, sending waves of pleasure through her, making her gasp and moan uncontrollably. Her hips moved of their own accord, thrusting with increasing urgency, as if trying to force her dick through Vicky's head.

It was all so strange. She had a dick and she was fucking her best friend's face, but it felt so good. The friction from Vicky's soft lips and caressing tongue was divine. Simply divine. Still, despite the intense pleasure, something was wrong. The conversion wasn’t happening. Susan could feel it. Something was missing, preventing the process from completing. A flicker of confusion crossed her sex-crazed mind, but it was quickly drowned out by an overwhelming sensation vibrating through her body.

Without warning, Susan's body began to convulse in short, sharp bursts. She cried out, her hands instinctively gripping Vicky’s head tighter, pinning her, insurely she remained dick-to-mouth, as whatever was happening played out. It felt like something inside her was shifting, changing once again. There was a low gurgle inside her; something was moving and sloshing. She had the strange feeling that she need to push whatever it was out of her. So she did. 

As she pushed... nothing happened. She pushed again. Nothing. But then, when she pushed a third time, two small balls crested out of her vagina, just below her huge cock —slimy, translucent sacks that slowly emerged out of her. She pushed yet again with a massive grunt, and the balls descended out of her with a "plop". The little things rested on Vicky's chin, and for a moment there was a pause in the action. Susan stood quietly panting in the kitchen, eyes to the ceiling, while Vicky practically choked on her cock, oblivious to the events around her.  but within moments it had grown into a large, bulbous spore sack, its surface slick and glistening under the kitchen's dim light. The skin stretched taut over the sack, veins running across it like dark, twisted roots.

As if on cue, the sack began to pulsate, and Susan felt an intense pressure build up inside it. It needed to be unloaded. She could feel living liquid within the sack, writhing and churning, eager to be expelled. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of aching and ecstasy that made her cry out again, her voice raw and animalistic.

The spores began to flow through the appendage, coursing down its length and into Vicky. Susan’s body responded with an even greater surge of endorphins, flooding her system with pleasure so intense it nearly drove her mad. Her vision blurred, and her thoughts fragmented as she let the spores expel themselves, filling Vicky with the alien seed.

Vicky's eyes suddenly flew open, wide and terrified, as the spores began to invade her system. She gagged slightly, her body reacting instinctively to the foreign presence now coursing through her veins. The shock of it brought her fully back to consciousness, but it was too late—her fate had been sealed.

She detached from Susan's appendage with a gasp, her body collapsing to the floor in a fit of convulsions. Her muscles spasmed uncontrollably, her back arching off the ground as the spores took hold. Susan, still high on the endorphins, watched with a twisted mix of satisfaction and horror as Vicky's transformation began in earnest.

Vicky writhed on the kitchen floor, her body shaking violently as the spores began to work their way through her, changing her from the inside out. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her hands clawing at the tiles as she tried to make sense of the sensations tearing through her. Every nerve was alight with fire, every muscle screaming as they were broken down and rebuilt stronger, more resilient.

Susan stood over her, breathing heavily, the remains of the spore sack still hanging from her abdomen, slowly retracting as the last of the spores were expelled. She felt a dark satisfaction watching Vicky convulse, knowing that soon she would no longer be weak, no longer vulnerable. Soon, she would be just like Susan—strong, powerful, and connected to the same alien force that had taken hold of her.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of Vicky's transformation—her gasps, her cries, the wet, slick sounds of her body contorting and changing. Susan could feel the connection between them strengthening, a bond that was growing deeper with each passing moment. It was as if the spores were tying them together, linking their fates inextricably.

Vicky opened her eyes and struggled to her feet, her body trembling as she coughed and hacked, trying to clear the lingering remnants of whatever had just invaded her system. She was disoriented, her mind clouded as if she had just woken from a nightmare. The kitchen swam in and out of focus, the light too bright, the sounds too sharp. For a brief moment, she seemed to come to her senses, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. "What was that stuff? What did you do to me?" she demanded, her voice raspy and weak.

Susan watched her with a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming with a predatory satisfaction. "I don’t know," she replied, her tone dark and teasing. "But let’s do it again." She took a step toward Vicky, her body language radiating dominance, but Vicky backed away with a small, panicked yelp.

"No! Wait!" Vicky’s voice trembled with desperation as she clutched at her stomach, feeling the foreign substance coursing through her veins. "That stuff... it’s flowing inside me. No... I don’t want to—" Her words were cut off as her body suddenly convulsed, a violent shudder that shook her to her core.

Vicky doubled over, her hands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter as her body began to writhe uncontrollably. She could feel something building inside her, something powerful and unstoppable, as if her very cells were being rewritten, restructured. Her shoulders twitched and then jerked as she slowly began to expand in little jerks.

Her thighs thickened, the muscles swelling beneath her skin, pushing outward as her pants began to strain against the growing mass. Her arms and glutes followed suit, each movement causing her to grunt and moan. Her skin felt tight, stretched to the breaking point as her muscles grew and her bones shifted with sickening cracks.

"Why?!" Vicky cried out, her voice raw with pain and fear, but also tinged with something else—a longing, a primal longing.

Susan, unable to resist the intoxicating sight before her, moved closer, her hips swaying in rhythm with Vicky’s undulations. 

"Just let it happen! Good lord, that ass. Why do I want it? Give in, Vicky!" she urged, her voice low and seductive. "Become stronger! You’ll love it! Just let me fill you up more. Just let me..." Susan positioned herself behind Vicky, aimed her thick meaty cock at Vicky, lining it up with her little pink asshole. "... let me inside you!"

Vicky gasped as Susan entered her with a swift thrust. The feeling was strange as foreign, but good, so very good. Then slowly, Susan began her motion; in and out. Susan grabbed both of Vicky's ass cheeks and pulled her into her with each thrust. She slapped her juicy ass, already larger and more toned than it was before. With each pushing into her ass, Vicky's body would respond, moaning and expanding. Then Susan picked out the pace. Faster and faster, slapping against her, sending out ripples of flesh after each impact. Vicky had never taken it up the ass before, but she loved it, and it was driving Vicky insane. 

As Susan rode Vicky like a beast, Vicky’s hips bucked involuntarily. Her body started to convulse again, her muscles bulging and contracting as they grew larger, more defined. Her clothes began to tear, the fabric unable to contain the rapidly expanding mass of her body. Every fiber of her being was alight with sensation, the endorphins flooding her system in a relentless tide, drowning out the pain of Susan's giant cock racing inside her asshole, with waves of pleasure.

"Why does it feel so good?!" Vicky gasped, her voice a mixture of bewilderment and ecstasy as her neck thickened, her thighs became toned and powerful, her glutes firm and rounded. Her grip on the counter intensified, her fingers digging into the marble with such force that it began to crack under the pressure. Her forearms swelled, veins popping up across the surface like roots breaking through the soil, and her biceps hardened into thick, sinewy cords of muscle.

"Yes!" Vicky screamed, the pleasure finally overwhelming her as she surrendered to the transformation. "I DO want this! Give it to me! Make me strong!"

The feeling grew more intense with every passing second, every thrust of Susan's dick inside her, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the transformation reached its peak. The pleasure pumped through her body like a drug, pushing her higher, driving her closer to the edge of an ecstasy she had never known before. Her entire being vibrated with the energy coursing through her, threatening to tear her apart.

And then, with a sudden, explosive release, Vicky’s body gave a final violent spasm. She arched her back, her head thrown back in a silent scream as a thick, fleshy cock burst forth from her crotch, tearing through the remnants of her pants with a wet, ripping sound. Her dick was smaller than Susan’s, but no less grotesque, standing at seven inches, pulsing with its own rhythm, its surface slick and glistening.

Vicky collapsed forward, leaning heavily on the counter, her chest heaving as she panted for breath. Her eyes were wide, staring down at the thing between her legs with a mixture of horror and awe. Her body felt alive, more alive than it had ever been, every nerve ending singing with sensation, every muscle humming with power. But there was also a deep, gnawing fear—a fear of what she had become. 

"Dear God," Vicky whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at the sausage protruding from her body, unable to comprehend the full magnitude of what had just happened. But there was no doubt, she liked what she was looking at; her dick, her muscles, it all felt so perfect, as if she was finally who she was meant to be.

Susan stepped closer, her own cock still pulsing with satisfaction, her smile broad and twisted. She placed a hand on Vicky’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly as if they were now part of some shared, dark secret. "Now you know how I feel," Susan said, her voice dripping with both empathy and a perverse joy.