The adult learning center buzzed with its usual energy. The various rooms humming with accented English, as chairs scraped against the floors, and laughter occasionally echoed out across the corridors. Ryan stood at the front of a classroom, marker in hand, trying to focus on the whiteboard. He had written the day’s lesson plan in neat, blocky letters: Present Perfect Tense. But his mind kept wandering. The words blurred together as flashes of the previous night intruded: Rina’s smile, her voice, the way her body had felt.

“Teacher Ryan?” A student’s voice broke through his thoughts. The thick Indonesian accent stretched the vowels. Ryan turned to see a middle-aged man raising his hand. “Can you explain again, please?”

Ryan nodded and forced a smile. “Right,” he said, keeping his explanation simple for his students’ level. “So, the present perfect is used for actions that started in the past but are still relevant now.” He wrote an example on the board: ‘I have lived in Jakarta for five years.’

As he spoke, he felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest. It was a sensation both familiar and alien. His voice faltered for a moment, and he cleared his throat, trying to shake it off. But the warmth lingered, pooling low in his stomach. He shifted uncomfortably; his pants suddenly felt too tight.

He glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes into the lesson. He could get through this. He had to get through this.

Ryan turned back to the class, his marker poised to write another example. But as he began to speak, his voice came out softer, higher-pitched, and he caught himself adding an unnecessary “ya” at the end of the sentence. It slipped out like a reflex. The students didn’t seem to notice, but Ryan’s heart raced. That wasn’t him. That was… her.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. “So,” he said, keeping his explanation simple for his students’ level, “another example would be: ‘She has visited Bali three times.’“

The words felt strange on his tongue. His voice wavered slightly as he spoke them aloud. He glanced at the students, half-expecting them to notice something was off. But they were scribbling in their notebooks, their faces focused on their work. Ryan let out a quiet breath and turned back to the board.

As he wrote another example on the whiteboard, Ryan’s gaze drifted to one of the male students: a younger guy with sharp features and a confident smile. He asked a question, his accent thick but clear. “Teacher Ryan,” he said, “what if the action is not finished? Like: ‘I have been living in Jakarta for five years’?“

Ryan wasn’t listening. Instead, he found himself noticing the way the male student’s shirt clung to his shoulders and how his lips moved as he spoke. A strange flutter stirred in Ryan’s chest, something unfamiliar and electric, and he quickly looked away, his face burning.

What the hell was that?

He tried to shake it off, but the feeling lingered. A faint hum buzzed in the back of his mind, persistent and unrelenting. When he spoke again, his voice came out softer, almost melodic, and he caught himself tilting his head slightly: a gesture that felt foreign but somehow natural.

The lesson was far from over, but Ryan almost couldn’t take it anymore. The warmth in his chest had spread, moving to become a constant ache between his legs. His skin prickled with sensitivity; every brush of fabric against him felt like sandpaper dragging over raw nerves. He pushed his legs together tightly, trying to ignore the faint throb building there, but it only made things worse. His cock twitched against the confines of his pants, and he quickly released his legs, heat flooding his face as embarrassment burned through him.

“Teacher Ryan?” Another student’s voice snapped him back to the present. He turned to see a woman in her thirties raising her hand. Her accent was heavy, the words rolling off her tongue slowly. “Can you give us another example?”

Ryan nodded, his throat dry as dust. “Uh, sure,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the lesson plan for his students’ level. “‘They have already finished their homework.’” His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he cleared his throat again, trying to steady himself. But the ache between his legs was growing now: a persistent throb that made it hard to think straight. He glanced at the clock again… Still an hour left.

Ryan’s mind wandered once more. This time to Rina’s voice echoing in his memory: soft and sultry as she whispered in his ear: “Kamu cantik, sayang.” You’re beautiful, darling… The words echoed inside him until they slipped from between his lips…

“Kamu… kamu cantik,” he murmured softly, his voice carrying an unmistakable Indonesian accent. The students stared at him, their pens freezing mid-sentence. A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Ryan froze, his face burning. What had he just said? You… you’re beautiful.

One of the students, a young woman with a bright smile, raised her hand. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Teacher Ryan,” she said, her tone teasing but not unkind, “you speak Indonesian now? And you think I’m beautiful?” A few students chuckled softly, while others exchanged curious glances.

Ryan blinked, his heart pounding like a drum. “Uh, no I mean… yes, a little,” he stammered, his English now carrying the same melodic Indonesian inflection that had slipped into his earlier words. He tried to recover: “I mean… you understand lesson, ya?“

The young woman grinned wider. “Ya, Teacher Ryan,” she replied playfully, mimicking his newly acquired inflection. The class erupted into light laughter this time. Some students clearly enjoyed the unexpected moment while others looked puzzled or concerned.

Ryan forced a laugh, loud and sharp. It echoed awkwardly in the small classroom as sweat prickled at his temples despite the cool air from overhead fans. His hands trembled visibly, gripping the pen so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He turned back to the whiteboard quickly while several female pupils whispered behind cupped palms, casting sidelong glances his way. Their giggles carried clearly across the room even though their words remained indistinct.

What was happening to him?

Ryan’s mind spun wildly out of control. Thoughts tumbled over each other until only one truth remained: that ache between his legs had become unbearable. A persistent throb made it impossible to focus on anything else besides the need coursing through his veins, demanding attention.

Glancing at the clock again revealed that thirty minutes still remained until the end of the lesson. But he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Uh, everyone,” he said hurriedly, his voice trembling as an unfamiliar Indonesian inflection clung stubbornly to his words. He fought to steady himself, forcing his accent back toward its usual British cadence. “Just keep working on the exercises, please. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The students nodded, some of them exchanging curious glances, but Ryan didn’t wait for questions. He grabbed his bag and hurried out of the classroom, his legs unsteady beneath him. The hallway was empty, thank God, and he practically ran to the staff bathroom, his heart pounding in his chest.

He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The bathroom was small and dimly lit, the faint hum of the fluorescent light buzzing overhead. Ryan set his bag down and turned to the mirror, his reflection staring back at him: pale, sweaty, and wide-eyed.

“Get it together,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “It’s just… stress. That’s all. Just stress.”

But the ache between his legs said otherwise. It was a deep, insistent throb, a need that wouldn’t be ignored. Ryan’s hands trembled as he unbuckled his belt, his fingers fumbling with the button of his pants. He told himself he just needed to relieve the tension, to clear his head so he could finish the damn lesson. But as he closed his eyes, the images that came to mind weren’t the ones he expected.

Instead of his usual fantasies, he saw Rina: her lush curves, her plump lips, the way she’d smiled at him from the screen. And then he saw himself, his body shifting and changing, becoming her. The memory was vivid, almost too vivid: the way her skin had felt, the way her body had moved, the way her pleasure had consumed him.

Ryan’s breath hitched, and he bit his lip to stifle a moan. His hand moved faster, the sensations sharp and electric, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to feel what she had felt.

“No… this isn’t right…” he whispered in accented English, his voice trembling as Indonesian words threatened to spill out. But his body didn’t listen. His hips bucked involuntarily, his hand moving with a rhythm that was desperate. The pleasure built quickly, too quickly, and he felt himself teetering on the edge.

“Oh God… aku nggak tahan…” he gasped in a mix of English and Indonesian as his accent thickened under the weight of arousal. I can’t hold back…

His hand moved faster still as sensations overwhelmed him completely now; every nerve ending alive with fire burning through veins like molten lava coursing towards inevitable eruption point where nothing else mattered except release from unbearable pressure building inside until finally…

“Ya ampunn… I’m gonna cum…” Oh my God…

And then it hit him: wave after wave crashing over consciousness until all thought dissolved into pure sensation, leaving only raw instinct behind, which spoke freely without filter or restraint:

“Aah… aku keluar…!” Ah… I’m cumming…!

The world dissolved into white-hot sensation. His body trembled as release washed over him. When the pleasure faded, emptiness took its place, deeper and hungrier than before.

Ryan slumped against the sink. His breath came in ragged gasps. The mirror showed a man unraveling: flushed skin, disheveled hair, eyes wide with panic. His reflection stared back, accusing.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” The whisper came out British again, crisp and clipped, a shield against what he had just become.

The ache between his legs returned sharper this time, a persistent throb that made thinking impossible. His skin prickled with hypersensitivity. Every thread of fabric felt like sandpaper. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes left of class.

He could not stay here. Not when he felt like this.

Ryan straightened his shirt with trembling hands and stepped back into the hallway. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he walked to his classroom on unsteady legs. Students looked up when he entered: curious glances that made his skin crawl.

“Uh, everyone,” he began, voice cracking mid-sentence into that unfamiliar Indonesian tone before snapping back to British precision. “I’m not feeling well.” He forced a smile that felt like breaking glass. “Let’s call it a day.”

The students nodded, some exchanging curious glances, but Ryan didn’t wait for questions. He grabbed his bag and bolted from the classroom, his legs wobbling beneath him. The hallway stretched before him, mercifully empty, and he broke into a jog that bordered on a full sprint. His shoes squeaked against the polished floor as he skidded into the staff room, nearly colliding with his boss, a woman whose no-nonsense demeanor could stop traffic.

“Ryan?” Her voice cut through the air like a knife. “Everything okay?”

He avoided her gaze, his throat dry. “Yeah, just… not feeling well.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

She nodded, though her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Ryan didn’t care. He needed out. Now.

The humid Indonesian air hit him as he stepped outside, the streets alive with the roar of motorbikes and the chatter of pedestrians. He tried to focus on the chaos: the honking horns, the sizzle of street food vendors, anything to drown out Rina’s voice echoing in his skull.

“Kamu cantik, sayang.” You’re beautiful, darling.

Ryan clenched his fists so tight his nails left crescent moons in his palms. “Stop it,” he hissed under his breath. “Just fucking stop.”

But Rina wasn’t done with him yet. Her voice grew louder, more insistent, dragging memories to the surface: her body pressed against his phantom form, her pleasure coursing through him like an electric current. His skin prickled with hypersensitivity; every brush of fabric felt like sandpaper against raw nerves. He quickened his pace until he was practically running again, desperate to get home, to lock himself away from this madness.

But what then? What was waiting for him at home besides his damn laptop?

He didn’t know what he needed, only that the ache demanded relief. His apartment door slammed shut behind him, the impact rattling the cheap frame. He dropped his bag, its contents spilling across the floor as he pressed his back against the door. The room smelled faintly of mildew and stale takeout, the curtains drawn tight against the afternoon sun. Only thin slivers of light cut through the darkness, illuminating motes of dust that swirled in the air.

The laptop sat on his desk like a predator waiting to pounce. Its screen was dark, but he could feel its pull, a low hum in his bones that made his teeth ache. His cock twitched in response, already half-hard despite his disgust.

“No,” he muttered through clenched teeth. His hands shook as he raked them through sweat-damp hair. “I’m not doing this.”

But his body betrayed him. His feet carried him forward as if pulled by invisible strings, each step heavier than the last. The chair screeched against the floor as he dropped into it, his trembling fingers fumbling with the laptop lid.

The screen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow across his face. The VCS interface loaded slowly, each second stretching into an eternity. The chat log was empty, but he could feel it: the pull of Rina’s voice whispering in his mind, her phantom touch ghosting over his skin.

His finger hovered over the mouse pad, slick with sweat. His heart hammered against his ribs like a caged animal desperate to escape.

“I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely.

But even as he said it, his finger moved on its own accord: clicking before he could stop himself.

The screen flashed white for a moment before displaying a single message:

Welcome back! To continue your VCS experience, you must commit to a minimum of one week of sessions. Do you accept?

Ryan stared at the screen, his stomach twisting into knots. A week? His finger hovered over “Decline,” trembling as the ache between his legs pulsed harder, insistent, demanding. His cock twitched against his pants, already half-hard just from the thought of her: Rina’s voice, her body, her control.

“No,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t. I won’t.”

But his hand betrayed him. It moved on its own, clicking “Accept” before his brain could catch up. The screen flickered to life, the chat log empty but waiting like an open mouth. Ryan’s breath hitched as a tingling started in his fingertips: sharp and electric spreading up his arms and into his chest. His heart hammered so hard he could feel it in his teeth.

Before he could react, a familiar ding cut through the silence. The first message appeared.

The keyboard clattered as Ryan jerked his hands away like he’d been burned. He stared at the glowing words: “Back so soon, sayang?” Their rhythm synced with the throbbing between his legs. Cold sweat trickled down his spine as the VCS interface flickered, its green cursor blinking in time with his racing pulse.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean to,” Ryan stammered, his crisp British accent cracking as the first wave of transformation hit. An electric tingle crawled up his arms, sharp and insistent. He tried to stand, but his knees gave out. The classroom chair screeched as he collapsed back into it. The dark monitor screen reflected a face already changing: lips fuller, eyes wider, features shifting into something unfamiliar.

“Stop! Stop program-nya!” he shouted at the laptop, his English now tinged with Indonesian. His hands slapped at the keyboard, but this caused him to feel smooth skin: knuckles softening, fingers narrowing, nails lengthening into glossy arcs that clicked against the plastic keys.

The chat exploded with excitement.

Ryan’s white cotton shirt stretched taut as his chest expanded. Two sharp bursts of pleasure-pain forced a cry from his lips. His pecs softened, swelling into full breasts that pressed against the fabric. The shirt buttons strained and then popped off one by one with loud PINGs as his chest continued to grow. Newly formed nipples hardened instantly, sensitive to every brush of cloth. He crossed his arms over his chest, but the pressure only amplified the sensation. Each movement sent electric shocks through his body.

“Stop… please…” His voice emerged higher, sweeter, with an unmistakable Jakarta accent that turned desperation into something melodic. His Adam’s apple disappeared mid-sentence. The swallow that followed was smooth and feminine as his throat reshaped itself in a series of strange, wet sensations.

His hips cracked with a sickening crunch. Ryan screamed, but it came out as a breathy moan that made the chat spam heart emojis. His waist crunched inward while his pelvis flared outward. Denim seams groaned and then tore with a loud RRRIIIPPP as his new curves strained against the fabric. The work trousers split at the thighs, revealing skin deepening to a rich brown hue.

Rina’s laughter bubbled up in his mind, sharp and mocking. “Liat tuh, cowok culun jadi cewek seksi~” Her voice stayed trapped in his head, the Bahasa laced with cruel amusement. Look at this, dorky guy becomes sexy girl.

“Shut up! Aku can berhenti!” I can stop!

His English fractured completely as his tongue thickened with new muscle memory, the sensation strange but not unpleasant. His body temperature spiked, the air conditioning doing nothing for the sweat soaking through what remained of his shirt, which now hung in tatters from his shoulders.

The chat roared with excitement, tokens flooding the screen as a cascade of digital coins chimed with each donation. A deep bass thrum signaled a major contribution, while higher-pitched pings marked smaller gifts. The soundscape of the transformation was punctuated by the rhythmic ching-ching of tokens and the occasional ka-chunk! of a large donation.

Ryan clawed at his face as bone structure melted beneath his fingers. Cheekbones rose sharp and defined, their new prominence pressing against trembling palms. His nose softened into a delicate slope that flared with each panicked breath, cartilage reshaping itself in wet clicks and pops. As silky black hair cascaded down past his shoulders, he tried to scream again, but the sound was pure Rina: high, musical, dripping with false distress that made the chat explode with fresh donations.

“Jangan lawan, Ryan,” Rina crooned in his head, her voice thick with mock sympathy as his hands drifted down to cup his new breasts. Fingers sank into supple flesh that felt alien yet familiar. “Rasakan nikmatnya…” Don’t fight it. Feel the pleasure. He tried to resist, but his fingers pinched a stiff nipple on reflex. The shockwave of sensation buckled his spine. His back arched violently, knocking the laptop askew. The camera captured everything: sweat glistening on collarbones that now framed a delicate dip; lips trembling with hunger they couldn’t satisfy; hips grinding helplessly against the chair’s edge as if seeking friction that wasn’t there.

“Tolong…” Ryan begged in broken Indonesian, tears streaking his face even as his body betrayed him. “Aku nggak mau… Tolong stop…” Please… I don’t want… Please stop. But his hand was already sliding past ruined trousers that split further with each movement. The chat exploded in a frenzy of tokens and emojis as Rina’s laugh echoed through his skull: dark, rich, and dominating. His fingers brushed through coarse pubic hair that dissolved into smooth skin under their touch, leaving him trembling at sensations too intense for words.

His shoulder blades narrowed beneath prickling heat as bones shifted and reshaped themselves with audible cracks and pops. Skin rippled across his abdomen as muscles softened and redistributed themselves into feminine contours without pause or mercy. Thighs thickened then tapered into shapely curves that strained against fabric remnants still clinging desperately before tearing away completely under pressure from expanding hips rotating forward at an impossible angle until knees bent inward naturally toward one another, creating space where none existed before… Toes curled involuntarily before shortening into delicate arches, pigmentation shifting rapidly until each digit gleamed glossy red under fluorescent lights overhead…

The process continued relentlessly around him while inside, all he could do was watch helplessly through eyes that shifted further second after second until they matched hers exactly…

The final change tore through him with surgical precision. A white-hot flash erupted between his legs, searing nerves rewriting themselves in an instant. Ryan’s cock twitched once, a final futile protest, before collapsing inward. His shaft softened and shriveled, flesh folding and melting into velvety nothingness as his balls drew up tight against his body. The sac shrank to smooth skin, leaving only a faint seam where it had been.

Heat radiated outward from his core, a throbbing pulse that made his teeth rattle. Wetness gushed over the chair cushion as his new sex announced itself. Slick folds parted, clit swelling with electric sensitivity. The sensation vibrated through every nerve ending, leaving him trembling.

“Sempurna,” Rina sighed in his mind, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Perfect.

Ryan opened his mouth to protest in English, but only Bahasa spilled out: “Aku masih aku!” I’m still me! The words felt natural on his tongue even as they began to form in his thoughts. His internal monologue shifted without permission, British vowels dissolving into Indonesian cadence.

The chat exploded with demands:

Rina’s presence coiled through his mind. “Mau keluar, Ryan?” she purred as his hand hovered over his new sex against his will. Want to come?

His fingertip hovered over the swollen nub of his clit, trembling with restraint. He knew he shouldn’t. This wasn’t him. This was Rina’s body, her pleasure, her control. But the ache between his legs was unbearable, a pulsing need that made rational thought impossible.

“Don’t,” Ryan whispered hoarsely in Bahasa, his voice barely audible over the hum of the laptop fan. “Aku nggak boleh…” I shouldn’t…

But his body betrayed him. His finger brushed against the sensitive bud, and pleasure detonated behind his eyes, white-hot and electric. A strangled moan tore from his throat as his hips bucked forward, chasing the sensation.

“Nggak…aku nggak mau…” he gasped even as his finger circled the swollen clit again, applying just enough pressure to make him shudder. No…I don’t want this…

But he did want it. The pleasure was too much to resist, too intense to ignore. His new pussy throbbed with need, slickness gushing over his fingers as he explored himself for the first time.

“Rasakan nikmatnya,” Rina purred in his mind, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Feel how good it is.

Ryan’s breath hitched as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. He wanted to stop, to pull away and regain control, but his body wouldn’t listen.

Rina’s voice slithered through his mind, sharp and mocking. “Bohong,” she hissed as his body betrayed him, shuddering under her control while the chat erupted with tokens at the glistening display of arousal caught on camera. Liar. His hips rocked forward involuntarily, chasing the friction of his own fingers as they circled his swollen clit. “Kamu mau,” she continued mercilessly, her tone dripping with cruel amusement. You want this. Ryan tried to protest, but his voice came out a breathy moan instead of words. “Lihat! Tubuhmu bersedia,” Rina purred, her satisfaction palpable as slickness gushed over his trembling fingers. Look! Your body’s willing.

Ryan’s breath hitched, his chest heaving as his fingers plunged deeper. The sensation was electric, his new sex clenching around the intrusion with a wet heat that made his head spin. His fingers curled inside himself, brushing against something that sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine. He gasped, hips jerking forward as he chased the feeling, the slick slide of his own fingers driving him wild. It was nothing like jerking off as a man! This was deeper, more intense, every nerve ending alight with a pleasure he’d never imagined possible.

“Aku perlu… aku perlu keluar…” he gasped, his voice trembling with need. I need… I need to cum… His free hand clawed at the desk for purchase, but there was no escape. There was only the slick slide of his fingers and the mounting pressure threatening to shatter him. “Tidak ada yang lain yang penting… aku hanya perlu keluar!” Nothing else matters… I just need to cum!

The pleasure built in waves, each one crashing harder than the last, until Ryan was teetering on the edge. So close he could taste it. But just as he was about to tip over, Rina’s voice cut through the haze.

“Cukup.” Enough.

The word didn’t come from inside his head this time. It came from his own throat, his lips forming the syllables without his consent. His body froze mid-thrust, his fingers still buried deep inside her. Inside him. The pleasure didn’t fade; it hung there, unbearable and unrelenting. Ryan’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need as Rina’s laughter filled the room: rich and full and utterly in control.

“Sekarang giliranku,” Rina purred from Ryan’s own throat again, now smooth and confident as she stretched their new body with deliberate precision. Now it’s my turn.

“Jangan! Jangan Berhenti!” Ryan screamed inside Rina’s mind, desperation clawing at him like an animal trapped in a cage. Don’t! Don’t stop! Or at least that’s what he wanted to say, but no sound came out. His lips didn’t move; they were hers now, along with everything else. He wasn’t even sure if she could hear him anymore. Or if she cared enough to listen if she did.

Rina laughed again, low and sultry, her amusement echoing through their shared mind like thunder rolling across an empty sky. “Oh Ryan, kamu ingat kan? Kamu yang klik ‘Accept.’ Sekarang duduk santai saja… biar aku yang tunjukkan caranya.” Oh Ryan, you remember, right? You clicked ‘Accept.’ Now sit back, relax… let me show you how it’s done.

She turned toward the camera with a predatory grin, her new body moving with fluid grace as she stretched and posed. “Ayo, kita tunjukkan apa yang mereka tunggu-tunggu,” she purred, her voice dripping with anticipation. Let’s show them what they came for.

From then on, Ryan could only watch, a passenger in his own body. And he was forced to suffer, both helpless and desperate, as he teetered on the edge of release but unable to cum. His mind screamed for relief even as Rina denied him again and again.

Rina adjusted the laptop with a practiced hand, tilting the screen so that the camera framed her body perfectly. The chat exploded with excitement, tokens flooding in as viewers clamored for her to begin. The laptop’s camera captured every detail of Rina’s new form.

“Ayo, sayang,” Rina purred, her voice dripping with playful menace. “Mari kita beri mereka apa yang mereka inginkan.” Let’s give them what they want.

Ryan’s mind screamed in protest, but not out of any desire to reclaim his body. All he cared about was cumming, his thoughts consumed by the unbearable need pulsing between his legs. His body, her body, moved with fluid grace, obeying Rina’s every command. She stood, the remnants of Ryan’s clothes hanging loosely on her now-feminine frame. With a smirk, she began to strip, each movement deliberate and teasing.

First, she unbuttoned the ruined shirt, letting it slide off her shoulders to reveal smooth, caramel skin. Her breasts, full and perky, caught the light as she turned slightly, showing off their shape to the camera. The chat erupted with emojis and demands for more.

“Lihat ini,” Rina said, running her hands over her curves, her fingers tracing the outline of her waist before dipping lower. “Kalian suka, ya?” You like it, don’t you?

Ryan’s mind recoiled at the loss of control even as he… she responded eagerly to Rina’s touch. A flush of heat spread through him as Rina hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his torn pants and slid them down his hips with agonizing slowness, revealing the curve of her ass and the glistening wetness between her legs. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her completely naked.

And the chat went wild.

Rina laughed, a low, sultry sound that sent shivers through Ryan’s trapped consciousness. “Sabarlah, sayang,” she teased, her fingers trailing along the smooth skin where panties would have been if he were wearing any. Her touch lingered there, teasing and deliberate, as the chat exploded with demands for more. “Be patient, darling,” she purred, her voice dripping with playful menace. “We’re just getting started.” The sound of tokens flooding in echoed in the background. Ka-chunk! Ching-ching! As Rina’s every movement drove the viewers wild with anticipation.

Ryan’s mind unraveled, threads of thought snapping one by one as shame and arousal coiled tighter in his gut. Rina’s presence was everywhere, her voice in his ears, her hands on his skin, her pleasure burning through his nerves. She peeled away the last remnants of his old clothes, the fabric pooling at her feet as she turned to face the camera. Her body was a weapon of desire, skin glowing under the dim light, shadows carving out every curve. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, nipples stiff and aching for touch. Between her legs, her pussy throbbed, slick and desperate, a cruel reminder of what Ryan could feel but not control.

“Bagus, ya?” Rina purred, her hands gliding over her body in a slow, teasing caress. Good, right?

The chat roared with excitement, tokens flooding the screen as a cascade of digital coins chimed with each donation. A deep bass thrum signaled a major contribution, ka-chunk, while higher-pitched pings marked smaller gifts, ching-ching. The rhythmic ching-ching of tokens filled the air, a relentless soundtrack to Ryan’s torment.

Rina’s fingers danced over her clit, light and teasing, the touch sending jolts of pleasure through Ryan’s body. He gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily, but she pulled away just as the pleasure began to crest. The ache between her legs deepened, a throbbing need that refused to be ignored.

“Tolong…” Ryan begged, his voice a faint, broken whisper in the back of Rina’s mind. Please…

Rina laughed, a low, cruel sound that vibrated through Ryan’s skull. Her fingers dipped lower, brushing over her entrance but not entering. “Mau keluar, Ryan?” she taunted, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. Want to cum?

Ryan’s mind recoiled, but his body betrayed him, arching into the touch, desperate for release. Rina’s fingers circled her clit again, the sensation sharp and electric, but she pulled away just as Ryan teetered on the edge.

“Tidak,” Rina said firmly, her voice cutting through the haze of pleasure. No.

The chat erupted again, ka-chunk, ching-ching, each viewer demanding more, their tokens fueling Rina’s cruelty. She obliged with glee, her every movement calculated to keep Ryan on the brink without letting him fall. She stroked and teased relentlessly, her laughter echoing through Ryan’s consciousness as he begged for release.

“Aku nggak tahan…” Ryan whimpered, his voice trembling. I can’t take it…

“Kamu bisa,” Rina replied, her tone cruel and unyielding. You can.

Time stretched, each second an eternity of torment. Rina’s fingers brushed over her clit again, the touch light but enough to send shockwaves through Ryan’s body. He gasped, his hips bucking, but she pulled away just as the pleasure began to crest. The ache between her legs was unbearable, a throbbing need that refused to be ignored.

Rina’s fingers dipped lower, teasing her entrance but not entering. “Mau banget, Ryan?” she taunted again, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. Want it badly, Ryan?

Ryan’s mind screamed in protest, but his body arched into the touch, desperate for release. Rina’s fingers circled her clit again, the sensation sharp and electric, but she pulled away just as Ryan teetered on the edge.

“Tidak,” Rina said firmly, her voice cutting through the haze of pleasure. No.

The chat erupted again, ka-chunk, ching-ching, each viewer demanding more, their tokens fueling Rina’s cruelty. She obliged with glee, her every movement calculated to keep Ryan on the brink without letting him fall. She stroked and teased relentlessly, her laughter echoing through Ryan’s consciousness as he begged for release.

“Aku nggak tahan…” Ryan whimpered, his voice trembling. I can’t take it…

“Kamu bisa,” Rina replied, her tone cruel and unyielding. You can.

Finally, as the session neared its end, Rina leaned close to the camera, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Should I let you cum, Ryan?” she purred, her voice low and teasing.

Ryan’s breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation. “Tolong… tolong…” he begged, his voice breaking into a scream. Please… please…

Rina’s fingers brushed over her clit one last time, the touch light but enough to send shockwaves through Ryan’s body. He gasped, his hips bucking, but she pulled away just as the pleasure began to reach its crescendo.

“Not tonight,” Rina said, her voice firm and final.

Ryan screamed in his mind. “Tolong! Aku mau keluar! Aku nggak tahan lagi!” he cried with desperation. Please! I want to cum! I can’t take it anymore!

The screen went dark, the chat falling silent as the session ended. Ryan felt his body go limp, his mind a shattered mess of shame and unfulfilled need. He collapsed back into his chair, his screams inside his head fading into ragged sobs as exhaustion overtook him. The last thing he heard before passing out was Rina’s laughter echoing in his mind, cruel and unrelenting.

****

Ryan woke with a start, his naked body drenched in sweat and his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he lay still, disoriented and unsure of where he was. The memories of the previous night came flooding back. Rina’s laughter, her touch, the unbearable pleasure that had consumed him. His cock twitched at the thought, already half-hard, a traitorous reminder of how much his body craved her.

He sat up, his hands trembling as he ran them over his body. His skin was pale again, his chest flat, his cock resting heavily between his legs. He was back to himself, but the memories of being Rina lingered, vivid and intoxicating. He could still feel the weight of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the slick heat of her pussy. His stomach churned with a mix of shame and arousal, the two emotions twisting together until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

He stumbled to the bathroom, his legs unsteady beneath him. The mirror reflected a face that was his but felt foreign, the memories of Rina’s features still fresh in his mind. He splashed water on his face, trying to wash away the lingering sensations, but it was no use. The ache between his legs was still there, a persistent throb that refused to be ignored. His cock twitched again, and he gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles white.

Ryan’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He remembered agreeing to a week of sessions, the words flashing on the screen before he had clicked “Accept.” He remembered the way Rina had taken control, the way she had toyed with him, keeping him on the edge for hours. And he remembered how close he had gotten, how desperate he had been to cum in her body. He would have done anything for it. Killed for it.

And he remembered how much he had enjoyed it.

The thought made his stomach twist, but it was undeniable. Despite the shame, despite the horror, there had been moments, fleeting, intoxicating moments, when he had reveled in the pleasure, when he had wanted nothing more than to let go and give in. His cock throbbed at the memory, and he bit back a groan.

Ryan’s hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the sink. He told himself he wouldn’t do it again, that he would quit VCS and never look back. But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. The memories of Rina’s body, of her pleasure, were too strong, too vivid. He could still feel her touch, still hear her voice, still taste the sweetness of her release. His cock twitched again, and he cursed under his breath.

He closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but they only grew stronger. His cock hardened fully, the ache between his legs becoming unbearable. He told himself he wouldn’t, that he could resist, but his hand moved on its own, sliding down his stomach to grip his length.

The touch was electric, the pleasure sharp and immediate. Ryan’s breath hitched as he stroked himself, his mind filled with images of Rina: her curves, her smile, the way she had moved. He imagined her pussy, slick and throbbing, and how it would feel to sink into her, to lose himself in her completely. He came with a strangled cry, his release spilling over his fingers as the memories consumed him.

Ryan slumped against the sink, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the bathroom fan, a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. He stared at his reflection in the mirror: pale, sweaty, and wide-eyed. But all he could see was her. Rina’s face, her smile, her body, burned into his memory like a brand.

“He wanted more.”

The thought crept in unbidden, a whisper in the back of his mind that sent a shiver down his spine. He wanted to feel it again… The way her body had moved, the way her pleasure had consumed him, the way her voice had dripped with power and desire. He wanted to lose himself in her again, to let go and give in completely.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Ryan clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced the thoughts away. “No,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “This isn’t me. This isn’t who I am.”

He turned away from the mirror, his legs unsteady as he stumbled back into the bedroom. The laptop sat on the desk, its screen dark but menacing, as if daring him to open it. Ryan’s stomach churned as he stared at it, the memories of last night flooding back. Rina’s laughter, her touch, the way she had toyed with him, keeping him on the edge for hours.

“I won’t do it,” he said aloud, as if saying the words would make them true. “I won’t log on tonight. I’ll quit. I’ll quit forever.”

He grabbed the laptop, his hands trembling as he shoved it into a drawer and slammed it shut. Out of sight, out of mind. That’s what he told himself, but the ache in his chest, and between his legs, said otherwise.

Ryan collapsed onto the bed, his body exhausted but his mind racing. He needed a distraction, something to keep him from thinking about Rina, about the way she had made him feel. He reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Mark’s name. He hesitated for a moment, then hit the call button.

“Hey, mate,” Mark’s voice came through the line, cheerful and oblivious. “What’s up?”

Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain what had happened? How could he tell Mark about Rina, about the way she had taken control, about the way he had enjoyed it?

“Uh, nothing,” Ryan said finally, his voice shaky. “Just… wanted to see if you were free for a drink tonight.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Ryan could almost hear Mark’s skeptical frown. “You sure you’re alright, mate? You sound… off.”

“I’m fine,” Ryan lied, forcing a laugh. “Just need to get out of the flat for a bit. You in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mark said, though he still sounded uncertain. “Meet you at the usual spot in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Ryan said, hanging up before Mark could ask any more questions.

He set the phone down and let out a long breath, his body sagging with relief. This was good. This was what he needed: a night out, a few drinks, some normalcy. He wouldn’t think about Rina. He wouldn’t think about VCS. He would quit, and that would be the end of it.

But as he stood and began to get dressed, the thoughts crept back in, unbidden and relentless. He remembered the way Rina’s body had felt, the way her pleasure had consumed him, the way she had laughed as she kept him on the edge. He remembered the way he had begged for release, the way he had craved it even as he hated himself for wanting it.

Ryan’s hands trembled as he buttoned his shirt, his mind a whirlwind of shame and desire. He told himself he wouldn’t do it, that he could resist, but the ache between his legs was a constant reminder of what he was missing. A phantom pussy that throbbed with need.

“I won’t,” he muttered under his breath, as if saying the words would make them true. “I won’t log on tonight. I’ll quit. I’ll quit forever.”

But as he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Rina was still there, watching him, waiting for him to give in again. And deep down, in a part of himself he didn’t want to acknowledge, he wanted to give in again too.