"I'm going to eat your heart!" Epilogue: Her favorite toy.

The words are music to your ears. You have finally met your perfect match, another porn addicted pervert that fetishes you even more than you do. Sure, she's a manipulative, vain, shallow predator, who has all the depth and substance of her own reflection in a puddle. Sure, she only 'loves' you the same way you would have a favorite onahole. Sure, she literally abducted you, forced her affections on you, and didn't give you the time and space to figure out if it was real love or Stockholm Syndrome. 'Fortunately' for you, that's exactly your type.

"I promise you won't regret this. I still have every dolly I've ever collected and I've never broken a single one...too badly." Charlotte answers any questions you might have had with a warm, wet kiss. Very warm and very wet as it turns out, as she slips acid down your throat with her tender tongue. Shockingly, it doesn't hurt, it just burns brighter and brighter inside you, melting you away. You should be terrified, and you would be, if Charlotte weren't looking at you so lovingly. "See, even my special kiss can't hurt you if I fantasize about you healed as it goes. All I'll melt...is your heart."

For once, it appears Charlotte is true to her word, as your tattered throat knits and repairs before the nerves can send the first stab of pain. It's only when it reaches your heart that you feel the hurt. Even then, Charlotte is caressing your fiery hair and cooing in your ear, "It's okay...it only hurts for a second. And true love always hurts a little, right my darling doll?"

All you can do is nod as your lover liquify your heart down to a sweat syrup. The pain is already gone and replaced with something worse, a longing to have your heart inside the pretty predator. You don't have to wait long, as Charlotte kisses you deeper than ever sucking your heart up through your chest, letting you taste it for an instant as she twirls it around your tongue, then slurping up every last dreamy drop and breaking the kiss, leaving you breathless. You smile dreamily...dumbly...dazed and dizzy as your new heart's owner licks the last of your free will from your lips. "Mmm. You're the best tasting dolly yet! I just know you're going to be my favorite toy...forever"

....

In the end, it turns out that Charlotte was telling the truth. In fact, now that you are helplessly devoted to her for life and beyond, she doesn't see the need to lie to you ever again. In fact, she shares more with you than any lover she ever takes from since she first enslaved you. Of course, most of her lovers can't compete with your combination of sweetly submissive servitude, endlessly kinky imagination, and the ability to transform into anything your fantastically filthy minds imagine.

Most times, she really does prefer you in the form you were the first time you met her. Though you both get a lot of mileage out of your ability to shift into say a beefy orc gurl with a girthy secret that ends up surprisingly submissive, a femboi elf snob that will do 'ANYTHING' to keep their crossdressing secret, or even an handsy octogirl hiding their extra male tentacles for a gropy surprise...hypothetically speaking of course. You used to worry she would get bored of living out every cis girl chaser fantasy with you, or that you'd get bored of getting 'caught' and 'turned out' again and again, but it turns out you really are match made in Hell, because you both keep inspiring each other to be your worst selves...and you love each other for it.

It doesn't hurt that incuboi/arachnymph hybrids are especially prized for their infiltration, espionage, and assassination capabilities and you both love nothing more than letting Charlotte fuck your cock with her pussy then pound you even harder full of eggs. You still remember how insanely illicit and eerily exquisite it felt to feel a dozen spider babies crawl out of your hot hole, setting of a chain of curious climaxes that made you want to get knocked up all over again. Charlotte was only too pleased to keep you bulging most of the time, allowing you the three weeks it took her to train her brood and send them off to war or whatever it is they get up to when they leave and you never see them again.

You suppose you should be sad about that, but if they're anything like Charlotte, they don't really form authentic attachments anyway. Besides, they are apparently doing well enough out in the world that your adoring arachnymph never has to work a day in her life, and instead spends most everyday playing with you in her penthouse suite in the hottest highrise in Pandemonium. You can't say you hate the life of a prized plaything in the lap of luxury. Heavens, you'd be satisfied with a hovel if it meant you get to lay on Charlotte's lap.

You only wish you never had to share her with her other playmates, but every so often, she gets in the mood to try things out with someone that can say 'no' to her. She goes looking for real love, and instead of finding a real connection, she usually ends up finding her next meal. Then she always comes crying to her 'darling dickgirl dolly' to moan about how she's too selfish and vain for real love and that the love she has for you is the only 'real' love she needs. You always agree, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you were being 100% honest with yourself, you'd agree even if you weren't forced to by your heart bond.

You met Charlotte at a very strange point in your life, and you suspect she is stuck in the same spiral of desire and dread that you are. Sometimes you suspect she is less a cis girl chaser and more a closeted, straight trans man. Then again, maybe that's just because you always have eggs on the mind. You sometimes wish you had a little more time to grow before you met, maybe you both would end up more than your partners worst, wildest wet dreams.

Luckily, for you both, you couldn't be happier living in a depraved dream world for the rest of your days. The one thing she is capable of loving whole heartedly is a toy, and you love her, fatal flaws and all. It's a strange kind of happiness. It's not exactly healthy, and certainly not woke, but it's yours. You wouldn't trade your life or your heart's owner for anything in the world. You wonder if anyone else is doing any better, or if the best anyone can hope for is a playmate with compatible fantasies that's just fucked up enough to love you as much as you love them, even if it seems like neither of you really has a choice in the matter?

It's another one for the wonder well, because Charlotte is creeping around the corner to 'catch you crossdressing' again, and soon you will be pregnant again and too full of babies to think. It's a vicious circle, sure, but a vibrant one. One that will keep Charlotte and you living...