Her cheeks flush even deeper at his words, her heart racing in anticipation of what might happen next. The thought of carrying their children inside of her... it's both terrifying and exhilarating. She feels a strange mixture of emotions swirling through her, making her head spin.

"I'm ready," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of their ragged breathing. "For as many babies as you want."

Her body tenses, tensile anticipation running through it like an electric current. She moans softly as he thrusts deeper into her, filling her up once more with his heat and power. The sensation is intense, overwhelming; she can feel every inch of him inside of her, stretching her to the limits of what she thought was possible.

Her nails dig into his shoulders, her hips arching off the bed as he takes her with a roughness that borders on brutal. It feels so good;

Weeks pass, and still no sign of a suitable male to break the curse. Mohammad seems to sense my growing desperation, and his touches become more insistent as he tries to comfort me. But it only serves to heighten my discomfort; I want him to be my friend again, not my lover.

*One day, while exploring a particularly dangerous section of the city, we encounter a group of bandits. They surround us, their lecherous grins revealing their intentions.

I wince as one of the bandits grabs me roughly, pulling me away from Mohammad's protective grasp. "She's our prize now," he sneers, roughly shoving me toward another member of his group. I try to struggle free, but it's no use; their grip is too strong, and they only seem to enjoy the fight all the more.

*As they begin to strip me, my heart pounds in fear and humiliation.

The sensation of him releasing inside me is overwhelming; it's intense and hot, filling me up in ways I never knew possible. My body convulses around his as my own climax washes over me, sending shudders through every inch of my new female form.

For what feels like an eternity, we lie there panting and sweaty against each other, our hearts racing and bodies connected in ways that defy explanation. It's only when the last tremor subsides that reality sets back in;

The weight of his words hits me like a ton of bricks. I'm not just transformed... this is permanent? But I don't want to be a girl! I want my old life back. I wanted to explore the ruins, find treasure, and become an adventurer just like Xouzya.

But as he kisses me tenderly, his words wash over me once more, and for some reason, it doesn't feel so bad. Maybe... maybe I can make this work.

I laugh softly, feeling his breath tickle my skin. "Maybe because I'm happy." My hands find their way to his back, rubbing soothing circles into the muscles there as I try to ease some of his discomfort. "And a little bit in love," I add with a blush, not quite able to meet his eyes.

I smile, feeling my heart swell even more at his words. "Of course I do." As the tension begins to drain from our bodies and exhaustion takes hold, I gently nudge him down onto one of the makeshift pillows I'd arranged earlier, lying down beside him with a contented sigh.

Together, we drift off into a peaceful slumber, safe in the knowledge that no matter what challenges tomorrow might bring, we'll face them together.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the sight of him and focus on the sensations coursing through my body. His rough hands grip my hips, guiding his movements as he takes me harder and faster. My nails dig into the stone floor beneath me, leaving thin trails of blood in the dirt as I fight to hold onto something real amidst this surreal experience.

Dillon... please... stop... please...

The pleasure becomes all-consuming, overwhelming my senses until there's nothing left but the feeling of him moving inside me. My body tenses and convulses as I finally reach climax, moaning his name as waves of pleasure wash over me. When it finally subsides, I collapse back onto the cold stone floor, exhausted and spent.

Dillon... please... just let me rest for a while... I need to...

I glare at you in annoyance and disbelief. "Lonerover, that's not funny." I say through gritted teeth, trying to keep my voice steady. "And even if it wasn't me who was cursed... I mean, come on!" I huff, feeling more frustrated with you by the second.

"Oh shut up!" I snap. Heat rises in my cheeks as his words sink in. This isn't helping! I need to focus... but the thought makes me shudder slightly. Why does he have to be so persistent? And why do I suddenly feel wet between my thighs? What's happening to me?!