Taming the Beast (475-525)
Added 2026-01-25 12:22:09 +0000 UTC
Comments
Comprei porque achei já tinha atualizado
Mateus...1
2026-03-02 15:35:18 +0000 UTCAre we getting an update soon?
Maxine
2026-02-22 09:17:17 +0000 UTCneed more of this!!
Jobert Snark
2026-02-17 19:01:10 +0000 UTCYes, let Lucy feel that post-orgasm shame mixing with increasing arousal around him and being unable to come with her dildo anymore, with her battling her desire to be with him again after being unable to come on her own for ages. She becomes slowly more flirty and dress sexily around him unconscientiously at the beginning with pretexts of wanting to feel good when she dresses sexy and more feminine while pretending she does not want anything with him, but wanting him so much while still rejecting her side that wants to act on it
spe
2026-01-30 15:57:07 +0000 UTCIn this case, the essence of the comic is lost
228bit
2026-01-29 19:49:57 +0000 UTCOoohhh damn, I haven’t felt this kind of high in a long time! You’re the only author in the world who can actually satisfy my fetishes. Please, I’m begging you — don’t turn Lucy into a brainless, dick-addicted slut just yet. Let her really process what she did that night. Don’t wake Peter up. Let Lucy feel that post-orgasm shame about what happened. I absolutely loved how you focused on the situation on pages 27 and 28. That shit is insanely erotic. Honestly, this is the only comic in my life that I’m genuinely waiting for and happily paying money for. You’re the best, and I really hope you won’t disappoint with the continuation.
228bit
2026-01-29 19:38:27 +0000 UTCOMG, what a nice continuation of the story! You really ment what you said about Lucy would be changed from dick to pussy…! I also like the twist where Peter actually kind of woke up and had an active part, in this way the story avoided any more discussion on whether it was rape or not… Hope you didn’t spill too many beans for the real author! For the next chapter I wonder if what actually happens is that after they had sex, the magic spell will be fulfilled and finally reversed so that while Lucy remains unchanged Peter instead returns to his subordinate role - and grows a pussy. Without more active magic how will their relationship then continue?
Aniara X
2026-01-28 20:58:27 +0000 UTCCan't wait for the love to blossom instead of it being this lol
Unknown
2026-01-26 23:29:20 +0000 UTCWrote my own little fanfic for guys who can't wait for next month. Enjoy! That night, the rain hammered the windows like accusations from her past self. Lucy lowered Peter's collapsed half-dressed body on the bed. His muscular frame, toned from those secret gym sessions she'd once mocked, sprawled out invitingly. He was out of it. He mumbled incoherently. His breaths were heavy with alcohol. Lucy paced the room. Insomnia clawed at her like a beast. I need to get off. Or I will never sleep. This body is betraying me. All these hormones are making me ache. Her eyes locked on him. Denial fractured like glass under pressure. No way. Am I actually going to have to do this? Use him like some toy? Luke would never stoop to this shit. But fuck. Look at him. So vulnerable. Maybe I can take back some power. Heart pounding, she approached. Her olive-skinned hands, now slender and manicured by the curse's whims, trembled as she undid his pants. Revealing him sent a jolt through her. He was larger than she'd imagined. He was veined and thick. He stirred half-erect from her touch. Holy shit. Up close it looks so much bigger! How does a nerd pack that? The world has gone insane. Surprise twisted into arousal. Her own cock hardened despite the shame. She positioned herself over him. She guided his tip to her entrance. Anal, because it felt less like surrender. More like the rough edges she clung to. The curse had reshaped her body. It made it pliant. It was lubricated by her own excitement. As she lowered, the stretch burned at first. It was a sharp intrusion that made her gasp. The ring of muscle yielded with a fiery tear, his girth forcing her open inch by inch, the pressure building like a vice until he bottomed out. Slick heat enveloped him. Her inner walls pulsed involuntarily around the invasion. Oh. He is all the way in. Fuck. It hurts but good hurt. The burn radiates, like fire turning to liquid need. Now be careful. Do not crush him with your weight. Keep control. But shit. The fullness. It throbs inside me. Luke would pull away. Not grind down for more. But pleasure surged unbidden. Waves radiated from her core. The friction of each subtle shift sent sparks up her spine. Her prostate lit up like a live wire with every rock of her hips. The feeling. He is stretching me. Filling me so deep. Muscles clenching. Slick sounds echoing. This is not me. Luke takes. He does not get taken. But god. It feels right? No. Shut up. Sweat trickles down my back. His scent. Musky. Mixing with mine. Rationalizations flooded her mind like a dam breaking. I will just examine it one more time. Purely for scientific interest, of course. Yeah. That is it. Not because I need this. Not because the heat is building. Coiling tight in my gut. But it was more. Raw. Visceral. She rode him slowly at first. Hips grinding in circles. The drag of him inside her walls created a wet, sucking friction that made her thighs quiver. Her hand stroked her own arousal in tandem. Fingers slick with pre-cum. The dual sensations amplified everything. Her breaths came in ragged pants. Skin flushed hot. Peter's groans were soft. Half-aware. But he did not resist. Guilt flickered in Lucy. Exploiting him like this? But he cursed me first. Fair is fair. And fuck. The way he twitches inside me. It is addictive. Yet the curse's hold justified it. It twisted resentment into desire. Holy fuck. How can such a nerd have such a huge dick? It is unfair. Makes me feel small. Exposed. The veins pulse against my insides. Driving me crazy. Climax built like a storm. Her body clenched around him rhythmically. Muscles milking him. Fuck. It is so much bigger than I thought. I am losing it. The pressure. Coiling. About to snap. Release shattered her. Convulsions ripped through her core. Inner walls spasming wildly. Hot spurts from her cock painting her own chest and face. The aftershocks left her trembling. Limbs weak. Panting, she dismounted. But Peter stirred more. Eyes fluttered. "Lucy?" he murmured. The alcohol haze cleared just enough for primal need to ignite. His hands gripped her hips with surprising force. He flipped her onto her stomach before she could protest. What the? He is awake? Shit. Luke would fight back. Not just submit. But her body betrayed her. Ass lifting instinctively. "What. You are doing this?" he slurred. But arousal overrode confusion. He thrust into her ass vigorously. No preamble. Just deep, relentless strokes that slammed home with wet slaps. The burn intensified anew. Her walls stretched taut around his girth. Each plunge forced air from her lungs in guttural grunts. The impact rippled through her body. Balls slapping against her skin. Sticky and loud. Fuck. He is going hard. Too hard? No. More. The friction burns. But it turns to molten pleasure. Sweat drips. Mixing on our skin. His breath hot on my neck. Grunts animalistic. She cried out. Fingers clawed the sheets. Her mind fractured. This is revenge? Or does he want me too? God. It feels visceral. Like he is claiming what is left of me. Prostate hammered. Sparks exploding. Luke would dominate. Not moan like this. His hands dug into her waist. Pulling her back onto him with bruising force. The rhythm brutal yet rhythmic. Sweat-slicked skin sliding. Pleasure built again. Her neglected cock twitched beneath her. Rubbing against the sheets. He came with a guttural groan. Hot seed flooded her depths. Pulsing ropes that overflowed. Dripping down her thighs. The sensation overwhelming. Warm. Messy. Real. It triggered her second peak. Body seizing. Then, spent, he collapsed beside her. Passing out again. Snores filled the room moments later. Lucy lay there. Ass throbbing with a dull, satisfied ache. Cum leaking slowly. Body humming with endorphins. What just happened? I started it. But he finished it. Luke has gone soft. Literally. But I liked it. The rawness. The loss of control. No. Fight it. Denial warred with dawning acceptance. Her mind a battlefield. The immediate aftermath hung heavy in the room. The air thick with the musky scent of sex and whiskey. Lingering traces of sweat and cum cloyed the sheets. Lucy rolled away from Peter's snoring form. Her body a map of sensations. Ass sore and slick with his release. It leaked warm trails down her inner thighs. Her own cum drying sticky on the sheets. Muscles quivering from the double climax. A faint tremor in her legs refused to fade. She stared at the ceiling. Rain pattered like a judgmental audience. Holy shit. I did that. Used him. Then let him use me. Luke. The bully who ruled the streets. Reduced to this? Begging in my head for more? The burn still echoes inside. A reminder. Internal thoughts swirled like a vortex. Denial clashed with the curse's insidious pull. It is not me. The curse is making me weak. Turning me into some needy bitch. Fight it, Luke. Remember who you are. The guy who shoved nerds like him into lockers. Not the one getting railed until I shake. But nuances crept in. The pleasure had been too real. Too visceral. Eroding her resistance. What if this is permanent? No more standing tall. Literally or figuratively. Implications? I would have to navigate the world as her. Lucy. Dealing with stares. Catcalls. The loss of that invisible male shield. And worse. Craving this feeling again. Peter stirred briefly in his sleep. Mumbling something incoherent. His arm flopped over her waist. The contact sent a shiver through her. Not revulsion. But a twisted warmth. Skin still feverish from friction. Guilt? For him or me? He cursed me. But now he is the one passed out. Vulnerable. And I liked feeling filled. The heat of him. Pulsing. No. Stop. Luke does not get attached. This is just the curse twisting my wires. She extricated herself gently. Not wanting to wake him fully. And padded to the bathroom. Washing up, she avoided the mirror at first. But curiosity won. Her reflection stared back. Olive skin flushed with a post-sex glow. Dark hair tousled and damp with sweat. Sharp features softened by the curse's handiwork. Full lips parted in residual breathlessness. Breasts heaving slightly. Nipples still sensitive. Aching from neglect. This body. It is betraying Luke every day. But tonight? It felt alive. Throbbing with every thrust. The scents clinging. Musky. Intimate. Related consideration. Maybe the curse is not just punishment. It is forcing growth. Empathy? Bullshit. I do not need that. Yet here I am. Wondering if he felt it too. Back in bed, she lay awake. Peter's warmth a reluctant comfort. His steady breaths a contrast to her racing pulse. They did not talk yet. The alcohol ensured he would forget chunks. But fragments would linger. Tomorrow. Confess? Or deny? Play it cool. Like Luke would. Act like it meant nothing. But my ass still pulses. A reminder of surrender. But sleep tugged at her. The exhaustion from release finally winning. Limbs heavy. Body sated yet restless. As her eyes closed, a final thought. What if the curse is not done? What more can it take? The ache inside. It lingers. Implications loomed. Deeper emotional ties. Further physical shifts. But for now, denial held. A fragile barrier against the evolving self within. Fight it. Luke. Hold on. — The morning after dawned crisp and unusually sunny for Seattle. Golden light sliced through the curtains like a promise unkept. Lucy woke first. Her body a symphony of aches. Ass tender from Peter's vigorous claiming. A dull throb radiated with every shift. Muscles lax from the night's releases. A faint stickiness lingering between her thighs. Dried fluids flaking on her skin. Peter's snores rumbled beside her. His face peaceful in repose. Last night. I started it. He finished it. Luke would have dominated. Not submitted. But god. The way he thrust. So raw. Filling me up. The burn. The slap of skin. Stop thinking like that. It is morning. Shake it off. Internal conflict raged as she slipped out of bed. Padding to the bathroom. Fight it. You are still Luke inside. This curse cannot erase that. The soreness proves I can take it. Like a man. Out of ingrained habit, she stood at the toilet. Reaching down to aim and pee standing up. A defiant ritual. Clinging to male normalcy amid the changes. But something felt profoundly wrong. No familiar grip. No stream. Instead, a strange warmth spread. Trickling uncontrollably down her legs. Confusion spiked to panic. What the hell? She looked down. Heart slamming. Shock rooted her. Her penis gone. Vanished overnight. In its place, a fully formed pussy. Slick folds glistening in the morning light. A sensitive clit peeking out. Swollen slightly from residual arousal. An inner depth that clenched involuntarily at her touch. The curse had struck one last time while she slept. Completing the feminization in stealth. No fanfare. No agony. Just inexorable change. No. Not this. The last piece of Luke. Gone. How? Why now? Emptiness where there was weight. Slickness instead of firmness. Her fingers explored tentatively. Brushing the wetness. Arousal? Or just morning biology? A gasp escaped as sensation jolted through her. Electric and new. Fingers slipping between folds. The velvet texture. Warm and yielding. It is so sensitive. Wet already. Feels empty. Needy. Clit throbs under my touch. Luke would not feel this. Would not circle it like this. Fight it! But the heat builds. Spreading. Psychologically, the discovery fractured her. This is the endgame. No more pretending. Implications. Cycles. Vulnerability in sex. Maybe even kids? Phantom sensations? I swear I still feel it. Like it is still there. Twitching. But no. Just slick emptiness. But nuances layered in. Curiosity blooming amid fear. The curse's infatuation amplifying her awareness of Peter in the next room. He is the cause. But also the fix? No. Luke does not need anyone. Yet my fingers dip deeper. Involuntarily. The wetness coats them. Slippery. Inviting. She emerged from the bathroom. Robe loosely tied. Face flushed with a mix of horror and unwelcome heat. Thighs slick from her exploration. Peter stirred. Calling groggily. "Lucy? Where are you?" She stood at the bedside. Parting the robe. "Peter. Look." Revealing the change. Lips parted slightly. Glistening with her growing arousal. The musky scent faint but noticeable. His eyes widened. Sleep evaporating. Guilt flashed. His fault. The curse he cast. But then, primal horniness overtook. His gaze darkening with desire. The sight of her transformed. Pussy exposed and already wet. It unraveled him. "Oh god. You are complete now." His erection tented the sheets. Body responding viscerally. From his perspective, it was redemption twisted with lust. From hers, surrender looming. He pulled her onto the bed. Hands rough yet reverent. Kissing her fiercely. Lips bruising. Tongues tangling with whiskey's faint aftertaste. Saliva mixing. Hot and urgent. Fight it, Luke. Push him away. But her body arched. Nipples hardening against his chest. Scraping fabric. Sending zings downward. His fingers trailed down. Dipping into her new wetness. Slippery. Warm. Two digits sliding in easily. The intrusion stretched her virgin walls. Curling to hit a spot that made her buck. Inner muscles fluttering around him. Fuck. That is intense. Deeper than before. Fingers scissoring. Stretching me. No. Do not moan like that. The squelch. Obscene. Real. "I cannot. I need you, Lucy," he growled. Voice low and commanding. Far from the meek nerd she'd bullied. He shed the sheets. Revealing his toned build and that thick length. Veined and throbbing. Pre-cum beading at the tip. Positioning between her legs, he teased her entrance. Tip brushing her clit. Sending sparks that made her hips jerk. The sensitive nub swelled under the friction. Wait. I am not ready. Luke takes control. Does not get fucked like this. But her hips bucked. Gushing more slickness. Coating him. Betraying her. He entered slowly. The stretch burning at first. A visceral fullness. Her walls yielding to his girth. Inch by inch. The pressure built. Tissues parting with a wet glide. A faint sting as he hilted. Balls pressing against her ass. Fuck! So deep. Stretching me open. Walls hugging him. Pulsing. Different from ass. More intimate. Vulnerable. The heat of him. Throbbing inside. Luke would hate this. But it feels good? No. Fight! But my body clenches. Pulling him deeper. He fucked her silly. Rhythm building to relentless thrusts. Wet slaps echoing. Skin on skin. Her pussy clenching greedily around him. Sensory overload. His weight pinning her. Sweat mingling in rivulets. Dripping between them. The drag of his cock against her inner walls. Ridged veins catching sensitive spots. Clit grinding on his pelvis with each slam. Friction raw and electric. She gushed profusely. Wetness soaking them both. Squirting edges emerging in spurts with her peaks. Hot liquid splashing. Oh god. I am losing it. Moans so feminine. Yes. Harder! The build-up. Coiling tight. Luke is gone. Drowned in this pleasure. Fluids everywhere. Messy. The scent. Thick. Animal. Her hands clawed his back. Nails digging crescents. Legs wrapping tight. Heels pressing into his ass. Urging deeper. Body surrendering wave after wave. Orgasms layered. Clitoral zings building to vaginal explosions. Convulsions ripping through. Walls spasming. Milking him. Pain? A brief sting faded to bliss. The curse ensuring adaptation. Overwhelming fullness turning to euphoric release. Psychologically, she fragmented. I am yours! No more fighting. Luke is lost. Lucy wins. The rush. Endorphins flooding. Body shaking. He came inside. Hot pulses filling her. Ropes coating her depths. Overflowing with each thrust. The sensation pushing her over again. A final, shattering climax. They collapsed. Panting. Breaths ragged. His weight comforting. Bodies slick and entwined. Reflections surfaced amid afterglow. "Intense," Peter said. Stroking her hair. Fingers tangling gently. Lucy admitted breathlessly. "Could not pretend anymore. This is me." — Lucy stared at the ceiling, the morning light casting harsh shadows across the rumpled sheets. Peter's arm draped over her waist, heavy and warm, his steady breathing a rhythm she could not ignore. Who the hell am I now? Luke? Lucy? Some messed up mix? Last night... that was not me. Or was it? The way my body just gave in. Wet. Aching. Like it knew what it wanted before my brain caught up. Luke would have punched him, not moaned like that. She shifted slightly, feeling the slick residue between her thighs, the faint throb in her new pussy from where he had been. God, it is still there. Sensitive. Like it has a mind of its own. Pulsing. Reminding me. I used to stand tall, piss like a guy, own the room. Now? This emptiness inside, waiting to be filled. No, screw that. I am still Luke. Deep down. Are not I? Peter stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked at her, confusion creasing his brow before memories flooded back. "Lucy? Morning already?" His voice was rough, sleep thickened. He propped himself up on one elbow, glancing down at her body, his gaze lingering. "Last night... that was... you okay?" Okay? How do I even answer that? Luke would shrug it off, crack a joke. But my heart is racing, and I feel... lost. Like the curse ripped out the last bit of me. She swallowed hard, forcing a weak laugh that sounded hollow even to her. "Yeah, peachy. Just... woke up different. Again. Like, completely different down there. No warning. Just... poof. Who does that happen to? Me, apparently." He sat up fully now, sheets pooling around his waist, his hand reaching out to touch her arm gently. "Different? Wait, you mean... oh shit. The curse did that overnight? While we were sleeping? That is... I did not expect it to go that far. I thought we had more time." Time? For what? To fix me? But do I even want fixing anymore? Last night felt... good. Too good. The stretch, the heat, the way I came apart. Luke never felt that. But now, looking at him, I want it again. No. Fight it. She pulled the sheet up higher, covering herself, her voice sharper than she intended. "Yeah, well, surprise. No more dick. Just this... pussy. Wet and weird. I tried to pee standing up like always, and it just... trickled everywhere. Messy. Embarrassing. Who am I supposed to be now? The tough guy who bullied you, or this... whatever I am?" Peter's face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Lucy... or Luke, if that is what you want me to call you. I do not know. This curse... I cast it in anger, but seeing you like this? It messes with me too. Last night, when I woke up halfway, thrusting into you... it felt right. Like we fit. But if you are lost, then talk to me. Who do you feel like right now?" Who do I feel like? That is the problem. Luke would tell you to fuck off, grab a beer, pretend nothing happened. But my skin is tingling where you touched me, and down there... it is already getting wet just from your voice. Traitor body. She bit her lip, voice trembling. "I do not know, Peter. One minute I am thinking like Luke. Tough. In charge. The next, I am... craving you. Like the curse rewired my brain. Last night, when you flipped me over and just... pounded me. The burn, the fullness, your sweat dripping on my back. I hated it. But I loved it. Now? With this new... part of me. It is like I have got no anchor left. Who looks in the mirror and does not recognize themselves anymore?" He moved closer, his hand sliding to her thigh, thumb tracing slow circles. "Maybe that is the point. The curse took away the old you to make room for something new. But you are still you. The fire is there. I saw it when you started things last night. Guiding me in, riding me like you owned me. That was not just the curse. That was you taking what you wanted." Taking what I wanted? Yeah, right. Luke took. But now, with this pussy, it is like I am built to receive. To open up. The thought terrifies me. Excites me. Wetness building again. Damn it. She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Fine. But if I say stop... you stop. I am still trying to hold onto something here." He kissed her shoulder, hand sliding lower. "Deal. Tell me what you feel." As his fingers found her again, slipping through the slick folds, she gasped. Wet. So wet. Fingers gliding in, curling. Hitting that spot. Luke would push away. But... more. Please. "I feel... lost. But found. Fuck, Peter. Do not stop." Peter's fingers delved deeper, curling inside her with a slow, deliberate twist that made her hips buck involuntarily. The slick sounds filled the room, wet and obscene, her new pussy clenching around him like it had a will of its own. Oh god, that spot again. Pressure building, like a coil tightening. Luke never felt this... this vulnerability. Fingers stretching me, exploring places I did not know existed. Who am I if this makes me whimper? "Talk to me," Peter murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he added a third finger, the stretch burning just enough to send sparks up her spine. "What does it feel like? Being... like this?" Lucy arched her back, her nails digging into his arm, not sure if she was pulling him closer or pushing him away. "Feels... full. Wet. Too wet. Like my body is not mine anymore. Luke would grab control, flip you over, make you beg. But I... I just want more. Deeper. Fuck, Peter, why does it feel so good? I do not know who that makes me." He kissed her neck, teeth grazing the skin, his free hand cupping her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it hardened into a tight peak. "Maybe it makes you Lucy. The one who is here now, with me. Not fighting everything." Lucy? Is that who I am? The name sticks like glue, but Luke is still screaming inside. Remember the lockers, the punches, the power. But this... his touch, electric. Nipple aching under his thumb. Pussy dripping around his fingers. No power here, just need. Am I her now? Or still him, trapped? She moaned, her voice higher than she remembered, breathy and broken. "Maybe. But what if I am nothing? Not Luke, not Lucy. Just... this mess. Empty without you inside. God, twist harder. Like that." Peter withdrew his fingers slowly, the sudden emptiness making her whine, her inner walls fluttering in protest. He shifted, positioning himself between her legs, his cock hard and pressing against her thigh, pre cum smearing warm trails on her skin. "You are not nothing. Feel this?" He guided her hand to wrap around him, thick and veined, pulsing in her grip. "This is because of you. The way you look at me, the fire in your eyes. Who do you think you are when you stroke me like that?" She pumped him slowly, feeling the heat, the way he twitched in her palm, slick with his own arousal. Hard. So hard. Luke used to do this to himself, quick and rough. But holding him... it is different. Intimate. Makes me wetter. Who strokes a guy and thinks about how it would feel inside? Not Luke. But me... whoever I am... I want it. Crave it. "I think... I think I am the one who needs this. Needs you. But it scares me. Like if I let go, Luke disappears forever. Slide in slow. Let me feel it." He obliged, nudging her entrance, the head of his cock parting her folds with a wet glide. The stretch was immediate, burning as he inched in, her pussy yielding inch by inch, walls hugging him tight. "Like this? Slow, so you can think about it. Who are you right now, feeling me fill you?" Stretching. Burning. Fullness spreading. Deeper than fingers. Hitting every nerve. Luke would pull away, curse you out. But my legs are spreading wider. Hips lifting. Taking you in. Who does that? A woman? Lucy? Or just... me, lost in the heat. She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. "Right now? I am... the one moaning your name. Peter. Deeper. All the way. I do not know beyond that. Feels like I am breaking apart." He bottomed out with a groan, hips flush against hers, the pressure intense, his balls pressing against her ass. He held still, letting her adjust, his hand sliding between them to rub her clit in slow circles. "Breaking apart? Or coming together? Tell me what it is doing to you." The dual sensation, fullness inside, friction on her clit, made her vision blur, her body clenching around him rhythmically. Clit throbbing under his thumb. Slick. Swollen. Inside, you pulse. Walls milking. Heat coiling low in my belly. Luke never knew this overload. Who cums from this? From being filled, rubbed, owned? Me. But who is me? "It is... overwhelming. Clit on fire. You so deep, pressing everywhere. I feel like... like I am not in control. Like Lucy is winning. Thrust now. Slow at first." Peter pulled back almost all the way, the drag making her whimper at the loss, then slid in again, deliberate and deep. The wet slap echoed, her arousal coating him, dripping down. "Like this? Who are you when I do that?" Pulling out. Emptiness aching. Then in. Full again. Friction building. Slippery. Messy. Hips meeting. Sweat mixing. Who grinds back? Begs with her body? Not the old me. But this feels... right. Like I was made for it. "When you do that... I am yours. Lucy. Or whatever. Just do not stop. Faster. Please." He picked up the pace, thrusts turning rhythmic, skin slapping louder, her breasts bouncing with each impact. His hand stayed on her clit, circling faster, the pressure mounting. "Say it. Who are you?" Climax built like a wave, her inner walls spasming, gushing around him. Faster. Harder. Clit pulsing. Everything tightening. Who screams like this? Cums like this? Flooding the sheets. Not Luke. He is gone. I am... Lucy. Fuck. Yes. "I am... Lucy! Oh god, Peter, I am cumming!" He followed, groaning as he spilled inside her, hot pulses filling her depths, overflowing. They collapsed together, breaths mingling, bodies slick. After a long silence, Peter whispered, "See? You are still you. Just... evolving." Evolving? Maybe. But who into? The ache is gone, but the question lingers. Wet. Satisfied. Lost. "Yeah. Maybe. But tomorrow? I do not know."
Maxine
2026-01-26 07:34:06 +0000 UTCBest chapter ! I am so hyped ! February the 20th, please come fast
Ero Knight
2026-01-26 04:05:35 +0000 UTCabsolutely incredible, as always
Jobert Snark
2026-01-25 22:38:45 +0000 UTCI think the thing is that Peter is not drunk, but as he is keen to have a closer contact with Lucy pretends he has passed out to see what happens. So Peter incidentally ‘wakes up’ to enjoy Lucy - whom he both hates and loves; and only Kizaru knows where the story goes after this…
Aniara X
2026-01-25 21:15:17 +0000 UTCRape is a form of bullying. Does that mean Lucy will be punished by her penis turning into a pussy.
Maxine
2026-01-25 19:13:27 +0000 UTC
