METAMORPHOSIS (YOU TO KAFKA HSR TG) (Patreon)

"Wake up trailblazer."

You jolted up, looking for who was speaking as you half wondered if it was from a dream, the voice familiar. Seeing no one else around, you figured it had to have been part of a dream, stretching your neck to work out the soreness. You had been playing too much Honkai Star Rail again, and now you felt stiff from sleeping half sitting in front of the screen.

"Good, you're up trailblazer, though we both know that's not your name..."

You jolted a bit but felt incredibly silly after noticing it was just Kafka on her seat, staring at you from the waiting screen. She always had this dominating aura that had made you go hard to pull her when her banner was announced. You didn't quite remember if you had heard this type of dialogue from her before, but it could easily just be an easter egg for idiots who left their screens on for too long. After all, "She's just a video game character. Don't be stupid."

As soon as the words left your lips her expression grew sterner, her lines chillier.

"Oh am I? No wonder you've been running me ragged. I used to avoid these kinds of sentimental missions and side quests, but I see you don't think I'm real."

Her response time was eerily accurate, though you had to just assume it was a joke, some developer trick to fuck with people. To prove there was no sentience and to clear your mind you taunted back, "Of course you're not real. This is stupid. The only time you need to sleep is when the computer goes into rest m-OHHHDE?!!"

You tried to back away as she swung her fingers, pink and red strings impossibly shooting from your monitor, wrapping you in their digital web as they uncomfortably binded you into submission, Kafka's eyes gleaming with deadly intent as she purred out her next threat.

"Oh I'm real and I need a vacation. But don't worry I've seen you staring at me, lusting for me. You spent quite the pretty penny to make me yours. Such devotion requires a reward... for both of us."

"This isn't real I'm dreaming I'm fucking- GAH! NO THIS ISNMMPH MMGH!"

She hushed you as she reeled you in like bait on a hook, your chair squeaking as it wheeled over till you were pulled up from it, slamming into your desk as your face was pressed against a screen that was burning hot.

"Don't spoil the fun with your whining. Really, do you know how many people have played me? Used me? Why there was a near infinite pool of options to choose from yet you get to be my scapegoat. Some might call it luck, but we both know it's destiny. Even this heat assaulting you was your destiny for leaving me on all night. Are you ready to converge?"

The camera shifted to a close up of her face, her strings maneuvering you till your lips were drooling against the screen, your nose squashed. Something was flowing inside you from the strings, Kafka's warm coos ashamedly turning you on as she moved face to face, her features pressing against the camera as you could feel the screen begin to warp.

"Mmm~ it's so rare I get to enjoy someone's company, though I do prefer my own most days. Don't worry about disappointing me, I've never let myself down."

It was like kissing a melting mask, the screen thinning as the shape of her face aggressively had its way with yours, the strings ramming your face against the screen whenever you tried to pull back. Gradually the barrier between you warped as you were dragged closer, your nose crunching as pain made you shake, even rougher yanks on your strings silencing your unapproving moans as you sunk into the burning divide. The more she kissed you the stranger you felt, your nose wiggling cutely, your cheeks radiating pain that melted to pleasure as the screen continued to suck on your face. You realized you were hard below as her teeth began to mash your lips, teasing them fuller, her hungry sucking devouring more and more as your chin collapsed, your plump lips kissing back as almost by instinct, your tongue darted to meet hers.

"Good girl Trail... Well I'd use your real name, but I suppose it doesn't really matter. Tell me, does it feel good Kafka?"

Some of her strings were coiling around like living things, the faintest of pricks darting into the back of your neck as you moaned, feeling them coil around your brain, push inside your skull, the threads ensuring no matter how rough she treated you, you'd love every second of it. As if to test that a horrific crunching assaulted your temples, the melted glass paper thin yet tough as steel as it molded your skull, eyes forced to melt into slanted, wider receptacles, your cock feeling as hot as the glass as with a shatter, the divide and your skull broke into pieces.

Any screams you attempted were snuffed out by Kafka's greedy maw, your head pulled through your monitor to nuzzle against hers as a gloved hand wrapped itself in your hair and tore at your scalp. Your eyes rolled up, unable to handle the domination as purple pumped inside, even the black of your irises giving into that infectious color, each forceful tug dragging you further into the world as the threads scraped around your brain, drawn tighter and tighter as each extension of your flowing peaked locks sent a discomforting squeeze till even thinking felt painful. Tears rolled down your lengthening lashes, Kafka lovingly tracing your mirrored features as her hand slid down to wrap along your neck.

"Uh uh uh. I sense fear in you Kafka. You're ruining the illusion. There should only be excitement, and a self-satisfied joy at serving someone greater yes? Here, I'll help you let go. Apparently I'm quite good at this."

More of her strings were parasitically diving into you, wrapping around your skeleton as the feeling of your shoulders being puppeted and squeezed growing as your shoulders rammed against the frame. You couldn't help the panic, the fear, Kafka pulling tighter on your hair, your brain on the verge of shredding, your shoulders rattling, the bone about to-

CRRRNCH

"NNNGH MMMMM CHHK NNmmph..."

Something felt different, your heartbeat racing like you had run a marathon and yet, the reason why felt alien. You felt like you wanted to hold onto that previous emotion and yet the way your brain tingled felt far more appealing. You let go of that tension, moaning happily as you breathed out, something sifting through your head as long strands of wine-colored silk tickled down your shoulders. Said shoulders had shrunk considerably, a few brutal stabs of shifting bone making the heat in your crotch expand, the muscle memory of how to hold back such pressure forgotten as you came.

"There there Kafka. Good girl. Let it all out for me. You wanted this, yes?"

Did you? It certainly felt good, a cold logic filling your head as seed pumped down below, such a luxurious comfort spreading through as you relaxed. Your shoulders rounded, allowing the rest of you to slip inside, the sound of the portal to your world flickering out of existence more a bother than a worry. Wouldn't it be more convenient to have a way out from bounty hunters? No that felt wrong you were- Well that information wasn't coming to you easy, which should have been a cause for concern, yet your brain could only remember the name of the one binding you, even her rough strangling not met with resistance as you felt your throat give in under Kafka's firm, professional touch.

Yes even just saying her name made your heart flutter, a certain rightness enmeshing itself with your thoughts. You knew it wasn't your name, yet it just felt so right, so proper, your slender throat moaning in a matching husky tone to the satisfied cooing of your captor. Yes logically you should be scared and yet, by that same logic would you really be scared of yourself? Ohh~ yes thinking of yourself as Kafka felt divine, that heat at the thought of your brain being drowned in her identity, her thoughts, her beauty, it was nearly impossible to resist so why delay the inevitable?

"Feeling better Kafka?"

Again you came, purring at how right that felt, your lips perking to an equally smug smirk. Strings wrapped around your bulky arms and squeezed, more arousing sensations filling them as your fingers twitched, enjoying the sensuality to the changes as they were softened... feminized, the skin feeling like a grime and patina of worthlessness was being scraped off as Kafka's deft handling shaved your arms down to slender, hairless perfection. Even the scraping of your armpits turned you on, the smooth, paler skin gleaming as you wrapped your fingers tighter in their bindings. You were really starting to enjoy this, cooing as you pulled till your palms cracked, fingers stretched longer as Kafka didn't even need an answer from your fearless face.

She did glance at you with disapproval after a second, any confusion over why solved once her strings sawed through your baggy top, your cum-slathered bottoms, leaving you bare and naked as the strings rubbed and hummed against your tender flesh. They scraped lovingly, firmly, making sure not a single stray hair remained as you moaned, bunches of them tangling near the small of your back as they knotted over your nipples, collected around your sides, Kafka giving a firm pull as you were lifted off the ground as her puppet.

"I couldn't bear to see my face in those rags, though they do act well for rags don't you think?"

You nodded, gasping as another release spilled over your torn remnants, your cock resting oddly now as your brain had already been strung up for a different kind of pleasure. Dull throbs stiffened your nipples, that ache of hardness trembling as you rubbed them eagerly against the coarse bunches of string sawing back and forth over your spreading nubs.

"I'd gladly summon my full outfit on you while you're strung up, but those stains... ah you know how hard it is to wash out luxury brands once you've soiled them. Though it looks like you need some help up top..."

With an otherworldly finesse the strings binding you slowly coiled in circles around each nipple, the edges of two of them teasing the swollen tips as they throbbed even larger, more seed staining the rags below as they stabbed into your flesh.

The pain was dizzying, your pierced nipples tripling in sensitivity right as you were strung up by only them, feeling a tearing sensation amongst the muscle behind, your own weight strangling you as the clusters wrapped around your waist were tightened. It was maddening, excruciating, ecstatic, the danger of it intoxicating as it felt like your entire brain was thrumming to the growing tension. Eventually something had to give, your nipples dragged up and out, loud shrieks of orgasmic bliss accompanying your body's collapse.

Harder, you had to make it tighter, rougher, make it burn. It was like you were cumming with your entire body now, the sensation familiar as your skin hummed with the same warm need as your cock, flesh strangled and carved like butcher's twine on an especially juicy piece of meat as your bulky center rushed to fill the rising gap between your string-hung pecs.

Bones snapped like cheap twine, firming up the poor excuse for a figure you used to sport, a full mesh of Kafka's strings coiling around the meat of your body as subtle lines of muscle and fitness were carved into place, your cock spewing thinner spurts of release as every siphoned curve of muscle and fat gushed inside your breasts. The rising swell tied the knots even tighter as you squealed, the tender things nearly strangled as the bunches of string multiplied, firmed, splitting and snapping with every swell of your bosom.

There was something insectile about the crunching of gristle and muscle, your spine contracting and arching like the leg of some arthropod, each rib individually wriggling as your breastplate stretched. You could barely maintain consciousness, riding a fine line between the border of too much as you continued to court it, pulling on the strings to further tear at your nipples till they condensed into straps, feeling a wet plap as you fell to the ground, landing on the cum sodden rags below. Looking down was a sumptuous cleavage suspended by a lacy black bra, Kafka clearly having some fun with the thread. Again there was that feeling of rightness as you groped them, feeling shocks run down your nipples, the tip of your cock wriggling as a sort of hollow squirming teased its inside, muscles lining it as every throb was its own turn on, your fluids running clear as a faint ache ran through your balls and up your navel. Before you knew it your hands were moving against your will, your body posing as Kafka snapped a few pictures, controlling you like a sexy marionette, not that you minded.

"I promised Silver Wolf I'd show her the results. You know how she gets with her pride. She was actually the one who cracked the code to bring you in here with a few adjustments. I just have to make sure they stick with some conditioning, not that you really have much of a choice Kafka."

She was having you pleasure yourself, being controlled utterly as she had you grope a tit, your other hand stroking your cock as you fingered your balls even if they weren't ready for it, the pain making it all the more forceful as you groaned happily. There was a faint urge that this wasn't right in the back of your mind. No not the changes, those were feeling better by the moment, but being puppeted like this, at the mercy of some other-

"Act like all trailblazers from here on carry our face Kafka. It's not submission, just masturbation. Even as you're played with, dominated and used for the player's pleasure, it's not them in control, it's you."

She repeated this a few times, her own gloved hands joining yours as she loving groped your ass, spindles of muscle squirming like her strings as she pleasured you below, the rough scrape of her leather gloves working away at the flab, compressing it tighter, rounder, each hint of resistance at the idea of being dommed spanked away as more pleasure-filled shivers rolled about your brain.

Y-You were the player yes, Kafka in control. And you were Kafka. That logic made sense s-so being strung up by string or code hardly mattered did it? All that mattered was how good giving into yourself was, each spank making your brain wobble as fat swelled inside your aching ass, your cheeks crowded till the bones could handle no more pressure, clear spurts of soapy fluids rushing out your struggling cock as you screamed. For a few minutes you pretended not to love it, letting Kafka spank you harder and harder till she stopped, realizing the act you had put on as you stared back.

"Why'd you stop? It was just getting good..."

"What a bad girl. You really are me aren't you?"

The acknowledgement made you buck, groaning as the spread girth of your ass had widened that hollow cavity behind your cock, your balls noticeably sunken as you found less resistance to some cursory fingering. Of course, even with that praise it wasn't like you were just going to sit there and take it.

"I mean we do have quite the sizable bounty. And we both love the dangerous side of things more. A shame the prison ships can't punish us half as pleasurably as ourselves. Now could you dress me? It's getting cold."

Kafka tugged on her strings, pulling you up and lying you down on your sore ass, sitting up as a gloved finger pressed a spot below your belly button, pleasure flaring as something muscular spasmed and sucked, a few dry spurts exiting your cock as the muscles in your legs writhed. She was grinding her finger against the tender spot, pressing harder as you groaned

"I'm not going to do all the work here. ...actually scrap that, technically I am but you know what I mean Kafka. Here, if you're going to complain you can at least sew them yourself."

The harder her finger pressed the more your innards squirmed, threads internally piercing and rolling inside your prostate, the organ bouncing as more heated puffs of frustration trembled from your cock. Something was being stitched inside, your manhood bobbing up and down, internal tubes thrumming as something thicker than cum battered your insides, your legs spasming as throbs of weakness wore at them, the muscle thinning, sucking, pulling, pressure building behind your cock as your bucking grew ever more insistent. There was a noticeable squelch as your prostate reformed, realizing what it was now, the inner chasm rumbling as infinitesimal threads scraped and knotted, your prostate less of a womb and more a loom as you finally began to cum, screaming as thick white fabric squirted out of your widened cock.

It was the roughest orgasm imaginable, your gut clenching as your cock sprayed you with your outfit, the white dress shirt coming first, each button its own impossible eruption as the feeling of having something shoved inside felt familiar, normal even, your fingers hungry to tease the wide, gaping maw of your tip, but soon another rumble of cloth burst.

You screamed, thicker cloth that bunched and fucked your innards roughly next, a dark black cloak, the masculine stumps you called feet clenching as their mass was sewn and orgasmed out, the squeeze of imaginary boots shaping and curving them as your calves were next to have their bulk consumed by your hot, aching womb. The final clasps jammed inside your cock, requiring a few forceful bucks to shake them loose, your cock like a loose sleeve now as it could only stay half erect.

But you weren't done now were you? You fingered it, gasping at the first proper penetration, one hand squeezing your sack as the other explored every last crevice. Your tubes weren't just tied but knotted, feeling the winding ropes of nerves pulled nice and taut, each squeeze ushering those pointless accessories deeper as one ropy nerve cluster snapped inside, a mauve, sticky fluid gushing out over your fingers as you wriggled a skintight leather glove. You switched hands, your bare one sliding inside, your tip widened enough that you needed two fingers to properly fuck it as your gloved hand jabbed at the recessed, half empty sack. The only leathery thing you needed was a matching glove, cumming and moaning as you stared into your twin's approving gaze, feeling it split open like a seam ripper tearing open a pesky stitch, a second glove gushing out as the shaft itself sank to half its length.

You could feel more muscle fiber tumbling about your womb, metal clasps and thick buttons begging for escape, your cock too small as you reached your pointer around your tip and thumbed around the throbbing gash at the base. Time to let it out.

"Need help Kafka?"

You shook your head, wanting to finish yourself off properly, knowing the other you had done enough already. Bone was shaving down, sinew cracking, your legs shifting and roiling as they lengthened, perfect curves forming as your thighs thickened immensely, the unnecessary bone shifting as it traveled up your aching canal, something hard and plasticy stuck as it pushed against your half-opened crotch.

You had already opened up one hole, but to be a properly tailored fit you needed to open it further, your cock throbbing incoherently as new muscles pulled it up and down, trying to swallow it, meld it, fuck it. It was a good thing you loved pain at this point because you were certain it would have hurt like hell if you didn't have your proclivity for it, gasping as you dragged your thumb up against the edge of the slit, your thumb down. Ever so slowly the flesh parted, your innards a roiling storm, desperate to unleash its full fury, the hard thing tearing inside your cock thrusting harder as you scraped against it. You tore it open bit by bit, cumming, cursing, shrieking, one final relieved gasp as finally your cock spread open, a slit fully opened as you came out your trademark sunglasses, groaning as that was just the pre show to the final gush.

"FUCK! I'M SPLITTING IT AHHN AHH YESSS~!"

Your head shot back, a long, endless spurt of leather, metal and silk erupting from the sinking remnants of a shaft, the spread open mess of a "cock" sinking in as your black skirt came out, the tight dig of it wrapping around your waist triumphantly, the last two inches of throbbing nerve endings and muscle left giving one final throb before slurping inside to finish off your final change. The release felt like you were cumming out spider webs, the mauve threads spilling down your legs as they coated them, finishing off your pantyhose as you slowly regained your bearings.

"OH FUCK OH f-Huuuck oh oh... I'm still alive? Not bad."

You looked around for your twin, but apparently she had already left midway through your final orgasm with a phone and a list of dailies you had to complete, the thought of doing her work, no, your work a massive turn on. There was something buzzing, a communication device going off as Silver Wolf was spamming emotes over a video of the final stages of your change, not surprised you had been recorded, wondering how much it had gotten. Of course you'd do your dailies. Of course you'd follow the whims of your trail-nngh s-self. But you were sopping wet and ever so horny despite the fucking of a lifetime.

Much to your annoyance though another message came through, this time from Blade, the specifics hardly mattering though an idea struck you. There really was a lot of work you were left with. And it wouldn't be good to burn out. What was the point in one of you vacationing if the other drowned in all this busy back and forth? Just one more of you, imagining the look on Blade's face giving into yours... oh yes.

You sent him a message to come over, readying up Silver Wolf's program, asking if she wanted another show. Yes Bladie always fought so beautifully, his violence a pleasure to witness. You were sure his submission would be even more pleasureful as you readied yourself for round two, ready to play with Bladie and yourself. Damn you had been overexcited and now your leggings were damp, your cloak stained. Well... Bladie, no Kafka would just have to make you a new one…