Agag's Hypnovember 2022

Day 25: Parasite/Virus

by AmazingAgag

Tags: #cw:noncon #cw:sexual_assault #microfiction #breath_play #clothing #comic_book #dom:capitalism #dom:female #dom:male #exhibitionism #f/f #f/m #fantasy #feminization #impregnation #intelligence_play #lactation #magic #memory_play #military #multiple_partners #petplay #pov:bottom #scifi #sex_toy #slutification #solo #sub:female #sub:male #superhero #tech_control #transformation #transgender_characters

This one goes out to everyone who will never look like The Rock.

In the first week, Tory blew off the possibility entirely. A feminization virus? Unleashed by some mad lesbian scientist? Ridiculous. His pecs and glutes were just sore from the gym. It was just DOMS. Look it up.

In the second week, Tory almost broke his bathroom mirror in frustration. His chest and butt were bigger, alright – but not in the way he wanted. And every day that he looked in the mirror, he saw them visibly bigger than they had been the night before. He started brushing his teeth while briskly pacing the house, rather than standing at the mirror, just to avoid looking at himself.

In the third week, Tory cursed himself for not putting together that home gym he’d planned to. He spent the money on a PS5 instead, and as such still needed to go to the local gym with the unwashed masses. That must’ve been where he caught it. He should’ve made that home gym. He should have worn a mask and wiped down all the equipment before using it. He should have gone at off hours to avoid contact with people. Now, he was more desperate than ever to go out to eat, see people, dance, hook up… shit, no. None of that. He could go outside. He could stand on the balcony. If he did that a bit every day, he could make it through the quarantine period without going insane.

In the fourth week, Tory stopped going on the balcony. He lay on the couch, watching Fast Five and crying. He would never look like the Rock. His long black hair was wild and unkempt from sleepless nights. His smooth, elegant cheeks were red and flushed from the buckets of tears he’d let loose. He’d stopped bothering to dress in anything but a bathrobe, partly because nothing fit anymore and partly because he could barely muster the motivation to stand. This was the week that he said goodbye to his penis; as it shrunk day by day, he gave it one last whacking. For old times’ sake.

At the end of the fifth week, Tori’s quarantine period ended. She still hadn’t gotten any new clothes, but that didn’t really matter anymore. Stepping into the street, she saw it filled entirely with beautiful naked women like her. Maybe she hadn’t needed to quarantine after all – seems like the virus spread plenty well anyway!

in a cosmic coincidence, I started developing COVID symptoms on this exact day

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