Jennifer stood beside her husband, hugging his head close to her as he sat there miserably at the kitchen table.
"Last night wasn't your fault, honey. Really."
"It was entirely mine."
"No," he said. "I... I knew better, I really wish I hadn't."
"It's ok, Edward. No harm done," Jennifer consoled.
"No?" He pulled himself away, out of her arms. "It's like I practically cheated on you."
"Oh, Edward," Jennifer said, bemused but touched. "Don't be so melodramatic.
"It's still me, after all."
Edward turned toward his breakfast, uneaten, and poked it morosely with his spoon. "No, it's not," he muttered.
He stood abruptly, avoiding looking at her as he gathered his briefcase to go off to work.
"Well," Jennifer said in a placatory tone, looking back, heading towards their office, "I'm going to get working on this, and soon it'll be a distant memory."
***
Jennifer was both troubled and frustrated, analyzing the data from her latest blood draw. Despite the upbeat attitude she'd tried to project that morning, the numbers did not look good at all. For one, the I-New compound in her system was completely unchanged, remaining steadfast at a ridiculously extreme concentration, much higher than any commercial dosage would ever come close to. At levels like these, inhibitions wouldn't just be lowered as a result, they would continue to be completely eliminated altogether.
For another, the markers for hormones associated with sexual arousal were inexplicably growing higher by the day, which meant that the transformations would potentially get triggered more frequently.
That explains last night, Jennifer thought to herself.
Worse than that, it also meant a high degree of likelihood that the episodes would last longer as well.
Case in point, while Edward was away at work, the blackouts in her memory were going for longer and longer stretches throughout the day, which was not only concerning, but from a practical, productivity standpoint was extremely disruptive to her research as well. Today, she'd probably only put in about two or three hours altogether.
She'd never accomplish anything at this rate, Jennifer thought, banging her fist slightly on the countertop as another simulation produced failed results.
She thought to look at the recorded footage again, but she had rather been avoiding doing that as of late, as watching the debased acts of her transformed self was somewhat troubling and then also perversely titillating in a strange, voyeuristic sort of way. Jennifer transparently tried to attribute it to her rising libido, but inside she had begun to feel as though the lines were blurring between her identities. That really her conscious and subconscious were starting to converge.
Why else would she feel herself getting damp between the legs when she watched that footage? Or push her hands up to her bust, hefting it, imagining the mass expanding, tripling in size?
Focus, Jennifer told herself, shaking her head.
She needed to work on curing herself, not distract herself with the perverted, filthy thoughts invading her mind. Otherwise, there was a very real chance she could become stuck like this forever. A big titted blonde whore, obsessed with nothing but getting her drooling pussy stuffed with a thick, hard cock...
"Unnnngh..." Jennifer moaned slightly.
No more work. No more science. Just mindless, animal rutting...
Transformed into a perfect fucktoy, fit, hard, blonde...
Jennifer blacked out again.
***
"Honey, I'm home." Edward walked in the door.
"Hi, I'm in here," Jennifer's voice called out from the office. He thought she sounded slightly out of breath, and forehead creased with concern, he went over.
"Hey," Jennifer said casually, looking away from the computer, turning towards him. At first glance, he thought she was her normal self, but Edward's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he saw blonde highlights on her head, receding back towards the roots, like slowly draining water.
She's just changing back now...
"Good day?" Edward asked, feigning ignorance.
