An Unexpected Incident at a Cosplay Convention - Side Story

As night falls, the city lights begin to illuminate the night.

Lin Mo stood by the window of his apartment, watching a taxi slowly pull up on the street below. The door opened, and a pair of long legs, clad in black stiletto heels and sheer black stockings, stepped out onto the sidewalk.

It's Su Yuan—the cosplayer who cosplayed Shen He.

She wasn't doing any role-playing today; instead, she wore a typical office outfit: a white fitted shirt tucked into a black knee-length pencil skirt, topped with a beige mid-length trench coat. Her long hair was loose over her shoulders, and her makeup was light; she looked like a working woman who had just finished get off work.

However, the large suitcase she was dragging in one hand and the clothing bag full of clothes in the other revealed the true purpose of her visit.

Three days after the tweet that went viral, Su Yuan's social media account experienced a rapid increase in followers and heated debate. Some supported her courage to speak out, some questioned the authenticity of the incident, and many more prying eyes repeatedly analyzed every frame of the video showing her protruding belly.

Lin Mo—whom she called "Xiaoyu" in her eyes—sent her a private message:

"I have a suggestion regarding how to handle that yoga outfit. If you don't mind, I can alter it for you to ensure a similar problem doesn't happen again."

Su Yuan hesitated for two whole days before replying with an "okay" and arranging to meet that evening.

Lin Mo looked at the figure downstairs, his gaze lingering for a moment on the legs encased in black stockings, before turning around, walking to the entrance, and opening the door.

Footsteps approached, the crisp sound of high heels echoing in the corridor. He saw Su Yuan appear from around the corner of the stairs, dragging her suitcase, and she raised her hand to wave—

The moment she looked up, Lin Mo had already raised his right hand, his phone screen facing her, and gently pressed the shutter.

A very faint shutter sound, almost masked by footsteps.

At the same moment, at the fire door leading downstairs in the stairwell, a furry, dirty figure squeezed through the crack in the door—it was "Big Black," the stray dog ​​that Lin Mo had been feeding for years, a half-grown mongrel.

dizziness.

This dizziness was unlike any I'd ever experienced before. It felt as if my consciousness had been forcibly torn in two, one half remaining where it was, while the other half was being dragged by some irresistible ****, passing through layers of barriers, and rushing toward some unfamiliar container.

But this feeling of being torn apart didn't last long.

Lin Mo quickly regained his senses. He was still standing at his own doorstep, but the edges of his vision and consciousness seemed to have been strangely "extended." It was like a person looking at two monitors at the same time, only one of the screens appeared extremely primitive and chaotic.

He looked down at the stairwell.

Dressed in an office suit, Su Yuan stood frozen in place like a robot that had suddenly lost power. Her body leaned forward, and her suitcase slipped from her grasp, crashing heavily to the floor with a thud. Her face still held the expression she was about to use to greet Lin Mo, but her eyes suddenly lost focus.

At the same moment, "Big Black," the stray dog ​​who had been peeking out from the fire door, also froze. Its dirty body stood frozen in place, its bright black eyes revealing a complex, intelligent... no, not quite.

Lin Mo was "reading" the stream of information coming from the other end of his consciousness—a world with extremely low resolution and monotonous colors, filled with smells, sounds, and blurry blocks of color. It was filled with the dusty smell of the hallway, the faint scent of perfume on Su Yuan, the plastic smell of the suitcase, and the blurry visual signals coming from the black stockings on her legs.

It was a success.

The app's new feature was discovered after repeated attempts: by photographing two objects, temporary "consciousness transfer" could be performed. The principle was unclear, and the effect was unstable, but at this moment, he did forcibly insert a part of Dahei's consciousness—or rather, the canine "soul" based on instinct and simple reflexes—into Su Yuan's body.

At the same time, Su Yuan's consciousness fell into a deep dormant state.

Lin Mo strode forward. Su Yuan—or rather, the body now stuffed with canine consciousness—was already swaying and about to fall forward.

He caught her shoulder just in time. The touch was soft, and through the thin shirt, he could clearly feel the warmth and elasticity of a mature woman's body.

"Su Yuan?" he called out tentatively.

The body that was being supported did not respond. The eyes remained empty, with only the eyelids occasionally blinking, like a slow-moving computer processing information.

Lin Mo grabbed her arm, trying to guide her towards her front door. But her legs felt like lead; her movements were stiff and her steps were unsteady, completely unlike the elegant and capable cosplayer she usually was.

As she reached the door, she suddenly paused, and then... the humanoid body began to slowly curl downwards.

Like a dog instinctively seeking a comfortable resting position, she first bent her knees, then lowered her hips. The black pencil skirt stretched taut from the squatting motion, its edges riding up to reveal more of her thighs encased in black stockings.

Lin Mo watched as she assumed a perfect "dog sit" position—legs together, hands on the ground, buttocks completely on the floor, back slightly leaning forward.

"Hey..." Lin Mo was both amused and anxious. Someone could pass by in the hallway at any moment.

He slipped his hands under her armpits, trying to lift her up. But in this position, her weight was completely slumped, making it difficult to forcibly lift an adult woman. In the struggle, Lin Mo's palms inevitably pressed against her chest, sinking into her soft flesh.

Even through the shirt and underwear, the fullness of the nipple was still clearly felt. Lin Mo's fingers unconsciously tightened, his fingertips pressing against a nipple that was gradually hardening through the fabric.

Su Yuan's reaction was extremely...strange.

She didn't show the shame or resistance that humans should have; instead, she made a low, whimpering sound, similar to a dog's purring when it's comfortable. Her head tilted slightly toward where Lin Mo's hand was pressing, as if confirming the source of the touch.

"That's enough." Lin Mo cursed under his breath, forcefully lifted himself off the ground, half-dragged and half-pulled him into the house, then closed the door behind him and dragged his suitcase in as well.

In the entryway, Su Yuan, whom he had released, swayed again. This time, she didn't sit down, but instead leaned against the wall, her body sliding down slightly until she finally leaned against the shoe cabinet by the door in a half-squatting, half-kneeling position.

The office attire looked extremely out of place in this position. The white shirt was wrinkled from being pulled, and the top two buttons had come undone, revealing pale skin and the faint outline of her bra. The pencil skirt clung tightly to her hips, and the hem rode up from the position, almost exposing the area of ​​her thighs covered by black stockings.

Her legs, encased in black stockings, were curled up, knees together, the fibers of the stockings forming fine folds behind her knees. She still wore high heels, and a small patch of white skin was visible where the shoes connected to her ankles, which were covered by black stockings.

Lin Mo took a deep breath and focused his attention back on the canine "split screen" in his mind.

He tentatively conveyed a command: "Stand up."

The body curled up on the ground paused for a moment, then actually began to move. But the process was clumsy and slow: she braced herself with her hands on the ground, gradually straightened her knees, and stood up unsteadily. After standing upright, she swayed slightly twice, as if she wasn't used to maintaining her balance on her two legs.

【come over】.

She turned stiffly and strode toward the living room where Lin Mo was. Her steps were extremely uncoordinated, each step seemingly calculated, her knees lifted too high and landing unevenly. Those stiletto heels were clearly a huge challenge for her; after a few steps, her ankles buckled and she fell forward.

Lin Mo reached out and caught her just in time, and the two collided heavily.

This time, the sensation was much clearer. Su Yuan nestled into his arms, her soft breasts pressing against his chest and abdomen, their fullness and elasticity palpable even through his clothes. Her warm, rapid breaths sprayed onto his neck, carrying a sweet, feminine scent.

A chaotic flow of information came through the dog's "split-screen" consciousness: a large amount of smell (the smell of laundry detergent, sweat, and male hormones on Lin Mo), touch (the sense of security of being caught), and sight (the texture of Lin Mo's clothes seen up close).

Lin Mo helped her steady herself and guided her to sit down on the sofa in the living room.

Her posture remained stiff as she sat down—back straight, legs together, hands neatly placed on her knees, like a robot with a pre-programmed routine.

But her eyes are slowly regaining their sparkle. No, more accurately, her canine consciousness is gradually adapting to the sensory system of this human body.

Lin Mo observed that her nose twitched unconsciously, as if sniffing out various scents in the air; her ears—though human ears—also seemed to be turning slightly, trying to catch more subtle sounds; her gaze swept across the room, and her pupils would make subtle changes when they landed on brightly colored objects.

He could even "receive" that she was understanding the world in a canine way: the smell of the light switch, the feel of the sofa fabric, the distance of the car sounds outside the window...

But what fascinated Lin Mo the most was her feelings about her own body.

He tried to convey a vague instruction: "Feel yourself."

The human-shaped body on the sofa visibly stiffened for a moment. Then, the long, slender legs encased in black stockings moved slightly. Knees brushed against each other, the stockings rubbing together and making a soft rustling sound.

One instruction completely changed Lin Mo's understanding: [Smooth, warm].

Is that a dog's description of "black stockings"? No, it should be a description of "the feel of the legs".

Lin Mo continued to guide, this time more specifically: "[Use your hands to feel yourself]."

On the sofa, Su Yuan slowly raised her right hand, her movements still hesitant, as if operating an unfamiliar device. She held her hand up in front of her, spread her fingers, then turned it over, carefully examining her palm, the back of her hand, and her fingers.

The feedback from the canine consciousness was a jumble of tactile information: [Five, soft, movable surfaces with curved edges (referring to the nails)]

Then, the hand began to move downwards.

Lin Mo held his breath.

She first touched her cheek with her palm, receiving a smooth, warm response. Then her hand slid down her neck, paused for a moment, and detected a throbbing pulse and a slight itch.

Then, the hand continued downwards, landing on the chest.

When the hand completely covered one of the breasts through the shirt, the canine's response instantly became complex:

[Soft]

[Elastic]

[Warm]

[Deforms when pressed]

[Has a raised tip]

[Slightly painful if pressed]

The human-shaped figure on the sofa subconsciously increased the pressure of its kneading.

Through the white shirt, the full curves of her breasts swayed in her palm. She could clearly feel the softness and elasticity of her breasts, as well as the feeling of being supported by the underwire of her bra. Her fingertips explored, finding a nipple that had already hardened, and she gently pinched it through the fabric.

"Ugh..." A muffled groan escaped the human's throat.

The canine's internal feedback became even more confused:

[Comfortable]

[Want more]

[But something's strange]

[A warm feeling deep inside]

The hand became more audacious. It moved away from the breast, slid down the side of the waist, and landed on the thigh covered by black stockings.

I carefully poked the inside of my thigh with my fingertip, and the feedback was that it was "elastic." Then I covered it with my entire palm and stroked it up and down, clearly feeling the smooth texture of the stockings through my palm.

[Smooth]

[Warm]

[Very soft sound when rubbed]

Her hand stopped at the top of her thigh, the area concealed by the hem of her pencil skirt and the tighter cuff of her stockings. Her fingertips hooked the edge of the stocking and gently pulled it upwards—

The next moment, Lin Mo's consciousness received a loud alarm signal, as if an electric current was running through his nerve endings.

No, that's the canine instinct reacting to stimulation of erogenous zones.

The human-shaped figure on the sofa suddenly arched its body, clamped its legs together, and let out a sharp gasp.

Lin Mo noticed that when she pulled the top of the stockings with her fingers, her fingernails accidentally scratched the most sensitive inner skin of her thigh—skin that had almost no experience of being rubbed by clothing, and became especially sensitive under the tight stockings.

Feedback flooded in, a mixture of pleasure, alarm, confusion, and primal desire:

[It's special there]

[Very sensitive]

[It feels good]

[But it's also dangerous]

[Should we continue?]

[Reproductive signals?]

Lin Mo promptly cut off the command transmission. It had gone too far. If it continued, as the canine consciousness gradually adapted to this body, it might instinctively begin some...inappropriate explorations.

On the sofa, Su Yuan's body slowly relaxed, but she still maintained that stiff sitting posture. However, her breathing was obviously rapid, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed, and although her eyes were vacant, her pupils were obviously dilated.

Lin Mo stood up, walked to her, and looked down at the scene: a beautiful woman in an office suit, black stockings, and exquisite makeup sat stiffly on the sofa like a puppet, both confused and instinctively excited by her body's reaction.

He crouched down, bringing his eyes level with hers.

Then he reached out and gently stroked her cheek.

The suitcase placed in the entryway emitted a faint electronic beep – it was the GPS location confirmation notification from the suitcase when Su Yuan arrived.

Lin Mo looked at the suitcase and imagined that it should contain Shen He's cosplay outfit and black stockings. A meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

This is just the beginning.

——————

Lin Mo walked to the entryway, picked up the large suitcase, and laid it flat on the floor. The zipper popped open, revealing the neatly arranged items inside.

The top layer contained neatly stacked makeup tools and wig care products; the middle layer held the iconic black, white, and gray Shenhe combat bodysuit, along with matching over-the-knee boots; and the bottom layer contained several different base layers, including a flesh-colored bodysuit and a whole bag of individually packaged nipple covers and panty liners in various sizes.

Lin Mo pulled out Shen He's combat bodysuit. It was cool to the touch, but the fabric was tough, possessing the elasticity and resilience characteristic of professional materials. He carefully unfolded it; inside was a handwritten note from her:

The waistband on the right side is prone to coming loose; it needs to be reinforced before shooting.

For the chest padding, we're trying the size 1 extra-thick version.

Please choose skin-toned size 3 for the anti-exposure tape.

He roughly understood her usual attire: to closely resemble the original character while avoiding excessive exposure, she would use multiple layers of protection—a flesh-colored bodysuit as a base layer, nipple covers and pads for the key areas, and then a combat bodysuit. This method of dressing resulted in a perfect silhouette without looking cheap, but the process was extremely tedious.

Lin Mo glanced back at "Su Yuan," who was sitting stiffly on the sofa—or rather, the body currently imbued with canine consciousness.

She was exploring herself in an extremely primal way: her right hand was raised and slowly rotated in the light, as if she were observing some kind of novel toy; her left hand was unconsciously rubbing back and forth on her thigh, her fingertips tracing the sensitive inner thigh, and occasionally her body would tremble slightly uncontrollably.

Moreover, she would occasionally make a very faint "woo-woo" sound from her throat, like a low moan of an animal when it is comfortable.

Lin Mo carried the combat bodysuit back to the sofa.

He reached out first, trying to help her take off her beige trench coat. The process went surprisingly smoothly—when he put his hand on her shoulder, she instinctively raised her arm, letting the trench coat be taken off. This was probably due to residual muscle memory at work.

Then he unbuttoned his shirt.

Lin Mo paused when his fingers touched the first button. The button was small, and his fingertips could clearly feel the slightly protruding outline of his chest below. He took a deep breath and skillfully unbuttoned it.

One, two, three... As the buttons unbuttoned one by one, the collar of the white shirt slipped down to the sides, revealing the edge of a black lace bra underneath. The bra was a front-fastening style, stretched almost to bursting by the fullness of her breasts, revealing a deep cleavage.

Lin Mo's gaze lingered on that patch of fair skin for a few seconds before he reached for the bra clasp. The metal clasp clicked open with a crisp "click."

Her breasts were freed from their restraints, and her full, snow-white flesh bounced outwards slightly, the dark nipples at the tips hardening slightly from the friction.

The body on the sofa reacted clearly to this—its breathing quickened, its chest rose and fell more violently with each breath, and its erect nipple trembled, exposed to the air.

Even more bizarrely, she made an extremely canine gesture: she stuck out her tongue and gently licked her lower lip. The wet, red tip of her tongue slid across her lips, leaving a glistening trail.

Lin Mo's hand uncontrollably reached out and covered it.

He first supported the base of one breast with his left hand, feeling its heavy weight and soft texture. His palm sank completely into the warm flesh, the skin smooth and delicate. His thumb began to slide unconsciously, brushing against the edge of the areola, then resting on the nipple.

The tiny bump had hardened like a pebble. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and gently twisted it.

"Hmm..." A suppressed groan came from the sofa, not like pain, but more like some kind of instinctive pleasure.

Lin Mo sensed the information flow from the canine consciousness: [Press - Comfortable - Want more]

So he increased the **** and frequency. His other hand climbed up to the other breast and began to knead and squeeze it symmetrically. Both hands simultaneously kneaded and played with the breast flesh from all angles, sometimes pressing the base and sometimes rubbing the tip.

Su Yuan's body began to writhe under his hands. It wasn't so much resistance as it was acceptance—she thrust her chest forward further, continuing to emit those low "woo-woo" sounds from her throat.

Lin Mo discovered that canine consciousness responds to the body's physiological reactions in the most primal and honest way: comfort is comfort, without the need for shame or cultural constraints. So when the nipples are constantly pinched, pleasure signals are fed back without reservation, which in turn intensifies the body's instinctive physiological responses—the lower abdomen tightens, the legs clamp together, and the genitals begin to secrete lubricant.

This creates a positive cycle.

Lin Mo's fingertips became even more unrestrained. He bent his fingers and gently scratched the sensitive skin around the areola with his nails, causing tremors. Then he would suddenly pinch the already swollen and hard nipple hard, letting the pain and pleasure explode at the same time.

"Ah... gulp..." Su Yuan made a mixed sound in her throat. She even unconsciously rubbed against Lin Mo's hand, just like a dog when it is being petted.

This action startled Lin Mo for a moment, then a stronger sense of immorality welled up inside him.

He continued kneading her while helping her remove the rest of her clothes. The skirt was unzipped and slid down her thighs. Her legs, encased in black stockings, were completely exposed; the tops of the stockings were just above her thighs, partially concealed by her panties, which only heightened the allure.

She lay almost naked on the sofa, only her black high heels and sheer black stockings still on. This outfit should have been erotic, but combined with her vacant eyes and the occasional canine-like licking of her lips, it created a strangely bizarre yet incredibly stimulating scene.

Lin Mo opened the bag containing nipple covers and panty liners, but changed her mind the next second.

Underwear? Too much trouble.

Anyway, there won't be any actual filming today. And... he wanted to see what it would look like when this tight-fitting combat suit was directly pressed against unprotected flesh.

He picked up the flesh-colored bodysuit, hesitated, and then put it down. He tore off only the largest nipple cover, but instead of sticking it on her chest, he casually placed it on the coffee table.

Then, he picked up Shen He's combat bodysuit.

The outfit was intricately designed, featuring various straps, buckles, and zippers. He started with her legs, tucking each of her long, stocking-clad legs into the trousers one by one. The black stockings blended almost seamlessly with the black trousers of the combat suit, but the smooth stockings contrasted subtly with the rough texture of the suit, creating a delicate interplay of textures.

When the waistband of her pants was pulled up to her hips, Lin Mo's movements slowed down noticeably.

Those plump buttocks, known as "peach buttocks," possessed an astonishing elasticity and curve under the stockings. He had to hold one side of his buttock with his hand to pull up the waistband of his pants. The moment the fabric covered his buttocks, the rounded curves were fully outlined, with an alluring indentation forming at the cleft of his buttocks.

Lin Mo couldn't resist reaching out and, through two layers of fabric, forcefully kneading the plump buttocks a few times. They felt thick and elastic; with each press, the flesh would indent and deform before quickly springing back.

The canine response was: [Being touched - comfortable]. She even slightly raised her buttocks, as if waiting for more petting.

Lin Mo struggled to resist the urge to continue kneading and playing with the clothes, and continued the dressing process.

Donning the upper body was even more difficult. He needed to help her sit up and guide her arms through the sleeves. In the process, her unprotected breasts inevitably rubbed against the rough lining of her combat suit.

With each friction, the sensitive spot on her nipple was scraped by the rough fabric, and she would let out a short gasp.

As the erect nipples rubbed against the fabric, they formed two extremely tiny yet distinct bumps on the surface. Lin Mo noticed this and deliberately slowed down his dressing, allowing those two bumps to be repeatedly rubbed and scraped against the fabric.

Once he had put on his entire upper body, he slowly unzipped the front of the combat suit, revealing an alluring sight.

Because she wasn't wearing any underwear, her two full breasts were flattened by the combat suit, creating a deep cleavage. The two nipples, which were extremely sensitive from being played with earlier, clung to the rough fabric, forming two small, hard bumps on her chest.

This is a "mistake" that no professional cosplayer could possibly make, but at this moment, it seems to be full of blasphemous temptation.

Lin Mo helped her sit up straight on the sofa, then began to help her put on her over-the-knee boots. The boots were also part of the combat suit's design, made of black leather with silver decorative lines. He lifted her stocking-covered ankles, slid them into the boot shafts, and slowly pulled them up.

During this process, his hand inevitably slid along her black-stockinged thighs. His fingertips could clearly feel the firmness of her thigh muscles and the warmth of her skin beneath the stockings. Especially the inner thigh area; when he accidentally touched it while pulling up his boots, her body would instinctively tremble slightly, and she would try to close her legs, but he would prevent her from doing so.

After putting on both boots, she looked completely different—from the professional office woman she had been, to Shen He, the battle goddess in the game.

But only Lin Mo knew the truth: beneath this professional cosplay outfit was a completely naked body whose sensitive areas he had just fondled; and controlling this body was the soul of a dog, who was now confused and excited by the unfamiliar clothing and the stimulation he had just experienced.

The next step is the final adjustment.

Lin Mo carefully put on her gray wig and tidied her bangs. Then he sat opposite her and looked at her face up close: the exquisite makeup made her features more three-dimensional, and her eyebrows and eyes carried the mature charm of an adult woman, but because of her unfocused gaze and the occasional small gesture of sticking out her tongue, she also had a touch of eerie innocence.

He took out his phone and opened the camera.

“Look this way,” he said.

Shen He, sitting on the sofa, slowly turned her eyes to look at the phone camera. Because of her canine instincts, her reaction was a beat slower, and her gaze seemed somewhat unfocused.

But it is precisely this subtle disharmony that gives the photo a peculiar tension—a fighting figure who should be full of power and majesty appears dazed, bewildered, and even... weak and ****.

Lin Mo began directing her to pose.

The first one is a classic stance from the game: holding a bow in one hand, with her body turned sideways to the camera. He helped her adjust the angle of her arm, but when adjusting her waist posture, he deliberately pushed her buttocks back to make them stick out more, exaggerating the amazing curve.

From the camera's perspective, the combat leggings are made of fabric that clings completely to the body, outlining every curve of the hips. Especially under the lights, because there is no undergarment between the leggings and stockings, the fabric appears exceptionally thin and clingy, almost like a second skin.

When taking the photos, Lin Mo deliberately pressed burst mode. In the few seconds she posed, he could see the subtle tremors of her body as she maintained the pose—her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths, and through the fabric, he could see the blurry movement of her breasts; her thigh muscles tensed as she stood firm, making the lines under her stockings even more defined.

The second posture is the crouching shooting stance Shen He uses in the game. Lin Mo had her kneel on one knee on the sofa armrest, leaning forward.

In this position, the combat suit on her chest was pulled tighter, making her deep cleavage even more prominent. And because of the forward lean, her buttocks were raised high, and her tight pants were completely stretched, making the outline of her buttocks and the seam in the middle clearly visible.

Lin Mo could even see that, because her legs had been rubbed, a small patch of her private parts was wet on the fabric of her tight pants, the color of which had darkened, forming an embarrassing yet erotic circular mark.

He took several photos from different angles to make sure the wet spot was clearly visible in the pictures.

Then there are various "mishaps" in poses—for example, bending over to pick something up, causing the back of the combat suit to pull up and reveal the edge of the black stockings; raising an arm to adjust a wig, causing the fabric in front of the chest to be pulled, making the cleavage more obvious; and sitting on a chair with legs crossed, the beautiful lines of the calves encased in combat boots under the skirt armor...

With each pose, Lin Mo would "accidentally" touch certain parts of her body: when adjusting her arms, his elbows would brush against her chest; when helping her swing her legs, his fingers would trace the inside of her stockinged thighs; and when fixing her wig, his palms would "casually" rest on the back of her bare neck.

These touches, filtered through the canine consciousness, become pure signals of "contact - comfort - desire for more," making the body's instinctive reactions more honest—breathing becomes more rapid, cheeks become redder, the two nipples on the chest remain firm even under the rough fabric of the combat suit, and the wetness between the groin continues to expand.

Filming is in its final stages.

Lin Mo had "Shen He" lie face down on the back of the single sofa chair. It was a highly suggestive position: her upper body was leaning on the armrest, while her lower body was completely suspended behind the chair, with her legs dangling down and her toes just touching the ground.

In this position, the entire buttocks are raised high, and the fabric of the tight combat pants is stretched to an extremely thin, almost transparent, level at the buttocks. The legs dangle apart on either side of the chair, with the black-stockinged calves encased in over-the-knee boots suspended in the air, creating an extremely erotic and humiliating pose.

But what caught Lin Mo's attention even more was that when she lay down and her body tensed up, the two small bumps on her chest would press completely against the sofa fabric, under tremendous pressure due to the weight of her upper body.

He used his phone to take photos from all angles, capturing the scene.

But looking at that protruding buttocks, taut thighs, and chest that looked particularly constricted due to the posture on the screen... an impulse surged up.

Lin Mo put down his phone and walked behind the chair.

His hand, through the combat leggings and the black stockings underneath, covered that plump buttocks.

The flesh was surprisingly elastic and full to the touch. As he kneaded it, the buttocks deformed in his palms and quickly bounced back. He could feel the warmth and trembling of the flesh inside, wrapped in two layers of fabric.

The canine consciousness's feedback was simply "being touched - comfort," but the body's instinctive reaction was much more complex—the muscles in the buttocks unconsciously tightened and relaxed under his kneading, and the body twisted slightly, as if searching for a more comfortable position.

Lin Mo's fingers began to slide down along the cleft of her buttocks.

The indented groove cast an alluring shadow between the two plump buttocks. His fingertips traced that line, sliding down from the tailbone to the area completely covered by the combat leggings, which was already slightly damp.

When he pressed down through the fabric, he could clearly feel that the soft flesh inside was moist, sticky, and spread outwards as he pressed, forming a soft indentation.

A long, suppressed groan came from the sofa. It wasn't a human voice; it sounded more like... the sound of a dog being massaged to its liking, only it was using human vocal cords, making it distorted and strange.

Lin Mo continued pressing, increasing the pace and ****. His fingers, through two layers of fabric already soaked with vaginal fluid, began to rhythmically press, knead, and rotate.

With each exertion, I could feel that area soften and become damp beneath the fabric. The stockings and leggings were completely soaked through, clinging tightly to my skin, almost like a second layer.

As the pleasure intensified, Shen He's body began to tremble uncontrollably. Her waist arched and then slumped, her hips twisting uncontrollably in response to his hands. The flow of information from the other end of her consciousness had become a jumbled mess of pleasure signals.

Lin Mo joined in with his other hand. He used one hand to reach around to the front and, through the chest armor of his combat suit, accurately located the two erect nipples.

Two fingers, through the fabric, precisely pinched the two small points and began to knead them simultaneously.

Attack from both the front and the rear.

The pleasure almost doubled. Her body trembled violently, her chess-like legs gripping the chair legs tightly, her high heels clattering on the floor.

"Waaah...waaah..." Suppressed sobs were squeezed out intermittently from deep in her throat, each inhalation tinged with a cry, each exhalation as if she were expelling the boundless heat within her body.

Lin Mo could feel the soft flesh under his fingers contract sharply, harden, and then suddenly relax—a warm liquid seeped through the layers of fabric and soaked his fingertips directly.

Climax's body convulsed violently, her waist arched backward into an incredible arc, her head tilted back, and her gray wig slipped down a bit, revealing her dark brown real hair underneath.

She lay on the back of the chair, panting heavily, her whole body still trembling intermittently.

Lin Mo withdrew his hand, his fingertips stained with a warm, translucent liquid that gleamed lasciviously under the light.

He waited a moment until her breathing calmed down slightly. Then, he reconnected to the canine consciousness.

This time, he sensed a clear change—no longer a completely chaotic instinctive reaction, but with a hint of...intelligence. Although still primitive, it was already capable of simple imitation and memorization.

He tried to pass on the instruction: "Do it yourself."

On the sofa, her body, still reeling from an orgasm, twitched slightly. Then, a trembling hand slowly and awkwardly reached towards her chest.

Through the combat suit, the hand groped and found the protruding nipple. The fingertip pressed lightly, and the body trembled slightly.

Another simple command: [Up/Down].

That hand began to slowly and awkwardly knead the sensitive area of ​​her breast through the fabric. The movements were small and the **** was poorly controlled, but it was definitely masturbation.

The feedback from the canine consciousness is much more complex, no longer simply a matter of comfort or discomfort, but rather:

[Pressing here will cause a burning sensation later]

[After the burning sensation, there will be fluid]

[After the fluid, the whole body will tremble]

[I want to do this repeatedly]

But a deeper level of information reveals a kind of primitive "learning": it remembered the order and location of the stimulation it had just received from Lin Mo, and is now trying to reproduce it on its own.

Lin Mo watched this scene, a complex smile appearing on his lips.

He checked the time; the possession had lasted for about forty minutes. Based on experience, he was probably nearing his limit.

But just as he was about to disconnect, "Shen He," who was lying on the sofa, suddenly made an unexpected move—

She turned her head, her scarlet tongue sticking out, and slowly, wetly, began to lick the back of her hand.

His eyes were vacant, but his movements were primal, animalistic, clumsy, and affectionate.

This scene was like a heavy punch, striking a dark corner deep within Lin Mo's consciousness.

He sat on another chair, watching the doll's body, possessed by a canine soul, masturbating and licking itself in the most primal way, his mind churning with countless contradictory thoughts.

The night outside the window is getting darker.

The only sounds in the room were that comical yet eerie licking sound, and the occasional whimper, soaked in pleasure, that escaped from her throat.

——————

Lin Mo sat on a chair to the side, breathing heavily as he looked at the absurd and lewd scene before him.

"Shen He"—or rather, Su Yuan's body, currently possessed by a canine soul—was lying on the back of the sofa, her right hand instinctively kneading her soft breasts through the breastplate of her combat bodysuit. The movements were clumsy and awkward, but with each press and knead, her body responded honestly: a slight tremor in her waist, a suppressed whimper escaping her throat, and a slight sway of her buttocks encased in tight pants.

Her left hand hung at her side, her fingertips unconsciously tracing patterns on her thigh, which was covered in black stockings. Each time her fingers brushed against the sensitive inner skin, her legs would instinctively clench and unclench. What Lin Mo found most captivating was that, with this semi-involuntary caress, her private parts, covered by layers of fabric, began to slowly seep moisture again.

The black combat leggings weren't very absorbent, and the dark wet patch shimmered with a lewd sheen under the light, its area continuing to expand.

"Haa...uh..." It was that sound again, mimicking a dog's comfortable whimper, uttered in a woman's voice, a hoarse, distorted sound filled with desire.

Lin Mo felt his lower body was painfully hard. But he didn't get up immediately; instead, he remained seated, observing and waiting.

I observed how she interpreted pleasure using the most primal canine logic: pressing a point (like a nipple) → body heat → secretion of fluids → trembling → pleasure. Then she instinctively wanted to repeat this process.

Waiting for more moisture to spread, so that the fabric could completely cling to her most intimate parts, outlining the shape of every fold.

About five more minutes passed.

The figure on the sofa became increasingly bold, beginning to cup one breast with its entire palm and knead it vigorously, while the twisting of its waist and hips became more pronounced. The wet patch had completely spread, forming an irregular, dark circular area.

The time has come.

Lin Mo slowly stood up and walked to the sofa chair. His hand first covered her pert buttocks, kneading them through the wet fabric of her tight pants.

"Ugh..." she let out a short whimper, twisting her hips to meet his palm.

Lin Mo bent down, grasped the top of her over-the-knee boots at her ankles with both hands, and began to pull them down little by little.

The rubber-soled boots were initially very snug, but perhaps because Su Yuan had been exercising for many years and had well-proportioned calf muscles, the boots slowly slid off the slippery surface of her black stockings. First the right side, then the left.

Two tall boots were tossed aside, revealing a pair of feet completely encased in black sheer stockings.

The stockings were the same black color as her combat leggings, but the texture was completely different—the stockings were extremely thin, almost transparent, revealing glimpses of her fair skin and pale blue veins beneath. Her ankles were slender, her arches beautiful, and her five toes were neatly arranged. The toes of the stockings were slightly whitish, likely from the pressure marks from walking.

Lin Mo unzipped his pants. His already throbbing penis sprang out with a "snap," standing erect in the air, its tip already oozing clear, sticky fluid.

He crouched down, gently holding her ankle with one hand, and guiding her stocking-clad foot slowly towards his glans with the other.

The moment the cool, slippery fabric of the stockings touched his burning hot glans, Lin Mo trembled violently. The thin stockings did nothing to block the sensation; he could clearly feel the curve of her arch and the soft, elastic skin of her soles.

But Shen He on the sofa seemed somewhat confused.

The feedback from her canine consciousness was chaotic: [Hot, hard, touching it will cause another area of ​​the body to tighten (referring to the genitals)]. She subconsciously tried to pull her foot back, but Lin Mo held her ankle tightly, forcing her to continue rubbing his rock-hard member with the sole of her foot.

"Ugh...?" A soft groan, tinged with doubt.

Lin Mo switched to using her toes to grip his penis and began to slowly thrust in and out. Her toes, encased in stockings, were soft and flexible. Although her movements were clumsy, the feeling of being bound by the grip and the slippery friction still made Lin Mo unable to help but let out heavy breaths.

“Yes…that’s it…” he murmured, though not really to her, but to himself.

Perhaps instinctively realizing that this squeezing and friction wouldn't cause harm, and that Lin Mo was clearly enjoying it, the canine instinct began to try to cooperate—though it might just be out of an animal's instinct to please its owner.

The foot, encased in black stockings, began to move with its own rhythm: the toes would sometimes clench, sometimes relax, the sole of the foot would arch, the indentation of the foot would cover the front of the shaft, and then slide down the shaft all the way to the swollen testicles at the bottom, before gracefully turning back upwards.

Her movements were clumsy and she occasionally made mistakes, but the slippery stockings were like the best lubricant, bringing a strong current of pleasure with every friction.

Lin Mo watched this absurd scene: a woman dressed as a battle goddess, controlled by the spirit of a dog, was using her stockinged feet to service her penis. Her eyes remained unfocused, she occasionally licked her lips with her tongue, and made unintelligible whimpers, but the skill with that foot was improving rapidly.

The pleasure built up quickly. Lin Mo could feel that familiar tension deep in his lower back, and every part of his body was converging towards the breaking point.

He released his grip on her ankle, letting her continue her movements, while he leaned back against the wall, tilting his head back, feeling the overwhelming pleasure approaching.

In the final sprint, Shen He's feet seemed to suddenly have a knack for it. She first used the tips of her stockinged toes to gently scratch the frenulum below the glans—one of the most sensitive areas for men—causing Lin Mo to arch his back violently.

Then, she completely enveloped the scalding shaft with the soles of her feet and began to squeeze, rotate, and rub up and down with all her might. Her stockings were already soaked with their bodily fluids, making a lewd "splish-splish" sound.

"I'm going to cum..." Lin Mo growled, his arm muscles tensing, his fingers gripping the wall behind him tightly.

White semen gushed out like a flood. The first stream hit the soles of her feet, which were encased in stockings, and flowed slowly down the curve of her arch; the second stream splashed onto the stockings on her calves, leaving a winding white trail on the semi-transparent black fabric; the last few streams, though small in quantity but still powerful, sprayed directly onto the back of her thighs in her combat leggings, where they spread out into thick white spots.

After ejaculating, Lin Mo leaned against the wall, panting heavily. His lower body was still twitching slightly, and every muscle relaxed.

Meanwhile, "Shenhe" on the sofa seemed extremely interested in the spraying incident.

She shakily withdrew her foot, raised her calf, and curled up in a posture reminiscent of a dog checking a wound or cleaning itself, bringing her semen-stained stockinged foot close to her face.

Then—Lin Mo could hardly believe her eyes—she stuck out her tongue and began to carefully and meticulously lick the thick, white liquid from the soles of her feet.

Her pink tongue nimbly slid across the surface of the black stockings, cleaning away the trail of semen bit by bit. First, the large area of ​​the sole, then the arch of the foot, and finally the spaces between the toes. She didn't even miss the splattered spots on her calves, twisting her body with difficulty as she stretched out her tongue to reach them.

With each lick, the silk stocking fibers would make a soft "rustling" sound as her tongue scraped against them; with each swallow, her throat would bob; and with each area she cleaned, she would make a satisfied "woof" sound, like a small animal that had completed a task.

Lin Mo slumped in his chair, watching the "battle goddess" dressed in Shen He's cosplay outfit, licking away her own semen in the most primitive way, and felt his desire, which had just been released, being reignited.

This time it was even more intense than before.

He slowly stood up and walked to the sofa chair. She was curled up, cleaning the last traces of her calves, her body arched into a soft curve, her buttocks sticking out high, the cleft of her buttocks clearly visible under the tight fabric of her leggings.

Lin Mo bent down, grabbed the sides of her combat leggings with both hands, and pulled them down sharply.

Her cooperation was astonishing—perhaps thinking it was a new "game" instruction, she even subconsciously helped him pull the leggings down until they were down to his knees. Now, from waist to knee, she was only wearing those completely soaked black stockings that clung tightly to her private parts, and the elastic band at the top of her thighs.

The area was a mess: the stockings were completely soaked with vaginal fluid, clinging semi-transparently to the swollen labia, revealing the dark pubic hair and damp folds beneath. A few drops of white semen were half-dried on the surface of the stockings, leaving mottled marks.

Lin Mo supported her waist and helped her stand up. Her legs were weak and she could barely stand, so she could only rely on him for support.

He led her to the full-length mirror in the bedroom and had her place her hands on the mirror.

The cold mirror made her shiver, and her eyes seemed to clear for a moment, but she quickly regained that animalistic blankness.

Lin Mo stood behind her, reached his hands between her legs, grabbed the edge of her stockings and panties, and tore them open forcefully.

The stockings, soaked with vaginal fluid, ripped with a "ripping" sound, revealing the entrance to the completely wet, slightly open vagina.

Without any foreplay, he pressed directly against the still spasming and contracting entrance, and with a forceful thrust of his waist, he shoved the entire length inside.

"--ah!!!"

This time, the moan no longer contained any animalistic elements; it was a pure, human scream of intense penetration. The feeling of being utterly filled was beyond the comprehension of even a body dominated by canine instincts, defying animalistic logic. It was a purely human female physiological response.

Lin Mo gripped her waist tightly with both hands and began to thrust. Each impact went deep inside, his lower abdomen slapping heavily against her stocking-clad buttocks, the loud "slap slap" of flesh colliding echoing in the room.

"Open your eyes." He growled in her ear, one hand reaching around to her front, grabbing her chin and forcing her to lift her head to face the mirror. "Look."

The mirror reflected the scene of the two making love: her upper body combat bodysuit was relatively neat, and her gray wig was somewhat messy, sticking to her sweaty cheeks. Her lower body, however, was a mess—her leggings were hanging at her knees, and her torn stockings were hanging from her thighs, revealing the entrance that was being violently violated.

Her expression... was no longer that animalistic bewilderment. Instead, it was a dazed state, overwhelmed by immense pleasure. Her lips were slightly parted, saliva uncontrollably dribbling from the corners of her mouth, her eyes half-open and half-closed, her pupils unfocused.

But Lin Mo wasn't satisfied with that. He tightened his grip on her chin: "I want you to see clearly what you look like right now."

The canine consciousness seemed to be struggling violently, trying to escape this complex human sense of shame, but the body's instincts were much more honest—with each deep thrust, her lower abdomen would contract violently, and the inside of her passage would spasm intensely, tightly sucking on his penis.

Pleasure washed over her remaining consciousness like a tsunami. She could see her dazed face in the mirror, the thing violently thrusting in and out of her, the mixed fluids dripping from her inner thighs...

“Look,” Lin Mo quickened his pace, each thrust hitting the deepest point, “you’re enjoying being fucked so much, and you’re still making that lewd face—”

He freed one hand and slapped her right buttock hard. With a crisp "smack," a red handprint immediately appeared on the flesh encased in stockings.

"Tsk, what a slut."

This insult was like the last straw, completely tearing apart her remaining rationality and animal instincts.

Her vision blurred violently in the mirror, and tears welled up unexpectedly, mingling with the sweat and saliva on her face. A stronger contraction surged from within her body; her cervix contracted and sucked him in violently, as if trying to swallow him whole.

Lin Mo felt a violent vibration inside her passage, knowing that he had touched something.

He adjusted his angle, focusing his attack on that spot that would cause her whole body to spasm, while continuing to verbally humiliate her: "Yes, just like that, squeeze so tight—does being called a slut excite you more?"

Her response was a devastating scream, her waist thrusting forward wildly, then recoiling as he struck her, as if she were being torn apart.

"You like being called that, right?" Lin Mo thrust his hips forward, plunging deep inside her. "Tell me, are you a slut? Hmm?"

"I...I..." she tried to say, her voice broken and incoherent, just instinctively repeating, "I...ah...there...I can't...really..."

Lin Mo slapped her buttocks hard again, leaving another symmetrical handprint:

“Answer me.”

"I am... Ahh ...

She couldn't finish her sentence, because the final, deepest, and heaviest impact completely shattered her last shred of defense. Her body convulsed violently like a puppet with its strings cut, her knees gave way, and she fell forward, her face slamming into the cold floor.

Without pausing, Lin Mo continued to thrust violently into her convulsing passage dozens of times while she remained paralyzed, finally releasing another wave of scalding semen into her deepest depths with a low growl.

Both of them were soaked to the bone and exhausted, as if they had been pulled out of the water.

Lin Mo pulled out his limp penis and looked at the swollen and everted opening he had used, which was now spasming uncontrollably and slowly leaking out a mixture of bodily fluids.

He dragged the nearly **** Su Yuan onto the mattress and collapsed next to her.

Only the heavy breathing of the two people remained in the room.

Sleepiness washed over him like a tide, and Lin Mo closed his eyes before he could even clear his mind.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he was probably half asleep when he felt a slight movement on the other side of the mattress.

He barely opened his eyes and saw Su Yuan—no, should she have regained her human personality now?—slowly and laboriously sitting up in bed.

Her eyes were still somewhat unfocused, but the animalistic confusion from before was gone. In their place was a bewildered, chaotic, yet subtly profound light.

She looked down at her disheveled state: torn stockings, a combat suit stained with semen, and a mixture of dry and fresh marks on her inner thighs...

Then, her hand slowly and tentatively slid between her legs.

Her body visibly trembled when her fingertips touched the mess. But the next second, she became even more determined and inserted two fingers into her still moist, not fully closed vaginal opening.

The mattress trembled slightly with her movements.

In his final moments before falling into a deep sleep, Lin Mo vaguely caught a glimpse of her turning to look at him.

It wasn't the bewilderment of a dog, nor was it Su Yuan's shame or anger; rather, it was something... deeper, more difficult to decipher. Like a deep pool, calm on the surface, yet turbulent beneath.

Then, he saw that familiar pink tongue tip again—she stuck out her tongue once more and gently licked the corner of her mouth, which was covered in a mixture of liquids.

That look, coupled with that subconscious movement...

A chill suddenly rose up my spine.

But drowsiness overwhelmed everything. Lin Mo sank completely into the dark dream.

Beside the bed, the disheveled woman continued to slowly explore her own body with one hand, her eyes fixed on the sleeping Lin Mo, her gaze complex as if she were plotting something.

The bedroom was silent except for the faint sound of fingers slowly moving in and out of the moist passage, accompanied by a sticky, wet noise.

——————

The morning light filtered through the gaps in the curtains, cutting diagonally onto the bedroom floor.

Lin Mo woke up with a strange sense of satisfaction and a slight headache. He subconsciously reached out to his side—it was empty.

He opened his eyes and saw only creases on the other side of the bed, and a few strands of long, dark brown hair scattered on the pillow. The person was gone.

Last night's frantic and chaotic memories flooded my mind: the whimpering of a canine spirit, beautiful feet encased in black stockings, the intense intercourse in front of the mirror, and that final, meaningful look—whether it was an illusion or reality—...

Lin Mo suddenly sat up.

He was alone in the bedroom. The bathroom door was open, and the lights were off. The hallway outside was silent.

He got out of bed, feeling a wave of unsteadiness as his feet touched the floor. Looking down, he saw he was still wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday, only they were wrinkled and had a few dried marks. Even more embarrassing was that his lower body was naked; he'd been so exhausted last night that he'd fallen asleep without even putting on his pants properly.

Lin Mo quickly straightened his clothes, pushed open the door, and walked out of the bedroom.

The living room was quiet, but unlike yesterday, the scattered items—used tissues on the coffee table, a crumpled coat on the sofa, and boots lying askew on the floor—had all been tidied up. There was a faint smell of cleaning agents in the air, and... the aroma of some kind of food?

He pricked up his ears and faintly heard a faint sound coming from the direction of the kitchen.

The clatter of spatulas. The sizzling sound of food frying. And, very soft, rhythmic breathing?

Lin Mo tiptoed toward the kitchen.

There's a short hallway leading from the living room to the kitchen, with a narrow decorative mirror at the corner. As he reached the corner and prepared to peek into the kitchen, he saw the kitchen's interior reflected in the mirror.

It stunned him.

Su Yuan—or rather, the cosplayer who played Shen He—stood with her back to the corridor in front of the stove.

But she wasn't wearing the messy office suit from last night, nor the wrinkled combat bodysuit from yesterday; instead, she was wearing a brand new, neatly ironed Shenhe cosplay outfit.

This outfit is slightly different from yesterday's: the color is darker, the cut is tighter, and the metal embellishments on the shoulders and waist are more delicate. The dark gray wig is neatly combed and tied into a sleek ponytail at the back of her head. From behind, she stands tall and straight, with beautiful lines in her shoulders and back. The tight pants accentuate her full and pert hips, while the bodysuit outlines her slender and strong waist.

Moreover, her reflection in the mirror revealed her profile: her makeup had been redone, lighter than yesterday's on stage, but it still highlighted her defined brow bone and upturned eyeliner. Her nose was high and straight, and her lips were painted with a light pinkish-nude lip gloss.

She was frying eggs. Her movements were practiced; her right hand held a spatula, and her left hand seemed to hold a spice bottle, adding something to the pan every now and then.

The whole scene... was eerily normal.

The person who was dominated by a canine spirit last night, only whimpering and licking things, now looks completely like a professional, self-sufficient adult woman. In fact, she looks more "normal" and more in line with the "elegant goddess in battle" aura than Su Yuan, who was dressed as an ordinary professional woman when she arrived yesterday.

Lin Mo leaned against the wall, his thoughts racing.

Possibility 1: The effect of the soul transfer last night has automatically dissipated, and Su Yuan's original consciousness has awakened, but she has lost her memories of the time she was possessed, and thinks that she just had a series of strange dreams.

Possibility Two: The canine's soul has left and returned to the stray dog ​​downstairs. Based on previous experience, the possessed person will have a period of vague memory after being freed, but usually returns to normal quickly...

Possibility Three...

Before Lin Mo could come up with a third possibility, the commotion in the kitchen changed.

Because of the angle, he couldn't see below the stove through the mirror; he could only see Su Yuan's upper body from behind: her shoulders were steady, and her arms were rhythmically flipping the eggs. Everything seemed normal.

But the sound was off.

Besides the sound of the spatula scraping the bottom of the pan, there was a very faint, almost masked by the cooking sounds... a sticky, watery sound? The rhythm was regular, repetitive, and had a certain cadence.

Moreover, Su Yuan's posture... Lin Mo narrowed his eyes.

Her posture was indeed upright, but upon closer inspection, one could notice a subtle swaying in the lines of her waist and hips. It wasn't a large movement, but rather a slight tremor from tense muscles, like...

Lin Mo's gaze fell on her left hand hanging down at her side. There was slight redness and swelling at the base of the thumb and knuckles of that hand, and the tips of her index and middle fingers... seemed redder and more moist than the surrounding skin?

A wild guess formed in his mind.

To verify, Lin Mo deliberately made his footsteps louder.

He coughed and walked out around the corner.

At the kitchen doorway, Su Yuan—who should now be called by her restored surname—turned around upon hearing the voice.

She wore a perfectly timed smile, one that had been completely absent the night before. It wasn't a warm smile, but rather a polite yet distant one. Her eyes curved upwards, but the smile didn't reach them.

"Awake?" Her voice sounded normal, even more composed than yesterday. "I made a simple breakfast: fried eggs, bread, and milk."

As she spoke, she used a spatula to scoop the fried eggs onto a plate, her movements fluid and natural.

But Lin Mo noticed a few details:

First, when she turned around, her lower body rotated slower than her upper body, making her appear somewhat stiff.

Secondly, when she put down the spice bottle, she subconsciously rubbed her left index and middle fingers lightly against her palm, as if trying to wipe something away.

Third, her breathing... although she was trying to control it, a very slight rapidness could be detected if you listened carefully, and her voice trembled almost imperceptibly at the end of her sentences.

"You..." Lin Mo paused for a moment, then asked, "How are you feeling?"

Su Yuan placed the two plates on the small dining table in the center of the kitchen, skillfully setting out the cutlery: "It's fine. Thank you for taking me in last night."

She used the word "take in," which sounds like a polite way of saying a friend is letting someone stay overnight.

Lin Mo sat down opposite her and continued to observe.

Two glasses of milk, pure white in color, were already set on the table. She picked up one of them, took a small sip, and then put it down: "Sorry, I'm a little thirsty. You must be thirsty too, right? Last night... you must have been very tired."

The meaning of this statement is somewhat ambiguous. It could be interpreted as ordinary politeness, or it could be understood as some kind of... implication?

Lin Mo picked up his glass of milk and brought it close to his lips. He smelled a normal milky aroma, but there seemed to be an extremely faint, indescribable sweetness underneath.

“Try it,” Su Yuan looked up at him, her eyes calm. “I specially added some honey for you.”

Honey?

Lin Mo's lips gently touched the surface of the milk, and she did indeed taste a hint of sweetness. But it wasn't the pure fragrance of honey; it was more like... a deeper sweetness mixed with something else.

"Is it good?" Su Yuan asked. She picked up the bread and took a bite, but her eyes didn't leave Lin Mo's face as she chewed, as if she was expecting some kind of reaction.

Lin Mo hesitated for a moment, but ultimately took a small sip.

The milk was warm and had a rich, creamy aroma, but the subtle, sweet scent that spread in the mouth did bring a strange feeling—as if the mind was clearing up a bit, yet there was also a hidden sense of relaxed, slightly tipsy feeling.

"Not bad," he commented vaguely.

"That's good." Su Yuan smiled, this time a more natural smile than before, her eyes even a little moist—but was it the moisture of excitement? The moisture of emotion? Or something else?

For the next few minutes, the two ate in an eerie silence. Su Yuan ate faster than Lin Mo, and every few bites she would look up at him, her eyes seeming to be observing something.

Lin Mo felt some subtle changes in his body after drinking the milk mixed with "honey." He felt a slight warmth in his lower abdomen, his mind became exceptionally clear, and his senses seemed to be sharper—he could clearly hear the sound of her teeth grinding as she chewed her bread, see the frequency of her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallowed, and even smell the faint scent of her shower gel mixed with some...more subtle feminine aroma.

Halfway through the meal, Lin Mo decided to speak up and test the waters.

“Regarding what you said yesterday about altering that yoga outfit,” he put down his fork, “I see your luggage is still by the door. Do you need me to take a look at it for you today?”

Su Yuan's fork paused for a moment on the plate, making a faint metallic scraping sound.

“No rush.” Her voice was steady. “So much happened last night…you should get some rest first.” She added, as if explaining, “After that video was released, I actually needed…some time to adjust. So the clothes can wait.”

That video of the bulging belly was definitely a hoax.

But when she said this, there was no shame, no anger, but rather a strange...calmness?

Lin Mo suddenly realized that from the moment she woke up until now, she hadn't asked him why she was waking up in his apartment, why she wasn't wearing the same clothes as yesterday, or why she had so many strange marks on her body...

Even a normal person who has lost their memory would feel confused and uneasy about these obviously abnormal phenomena, right?

unless...

Lin Mo's gaze fell on her left hand resting on her lap. He noticed a detail he hadn't seen before: near her wrist on the web of her thumb, there were two very faint bruises, which looked like fingernail marks.

The pinch marks were from a hard pinch, and the edges were already turning purple. But they didn't look like marks he left last night—he remembered being careful and not leaving any obvious marks on her arm.

How did these two bruises get there? When were they left?

In a flash, an idea struck him.

Perhaps it was the canine soul that, after fully adapting to this human body, discovered the pleasure of masturbation. However, because it was not yet familiar with controlling human strength, it used too much **** and, just before climaxing, tightly gripped its own wrist...

Lin Mo stared at Su Yuan's face, trying to find a flaw in her calm expression.

At that moment, she put down her cutlery, picked up her milk glass, tilted her head back, and drank the rest of the milk in one gulp.

As she drank her milk, she tilted her head back, her neck forming a graceful arc, her Adam's apple bobbing slightly faster, and her chest rising and falling with each swallow. After finishing, she exhaled softly, her tongue darting out to casually lick away a drop of white milk from her upper lip.

That action...

Lin Mo's eyelids twitched.

Is it just my imagination? Or...?

Before he could think about it, Su Yuan had already stood up and started cleaning up the used tableware.

"I'll wash them, since I'm staying at your place," she said naturally, carrying the plates and cups to the sink.

But as she turned around, Lin Mo caught a glimpse of an unnatural detail through the back of her tight-fitting cosplay outfit: there were two tiny, almost invisible dark wet stains on the fabric at the waist belt of her bodysuit.

It's positioned low, near the top of the buttocks. It's round in shape, about the size of a coin, and a slightly darker color than the surrounding fabric.

Like...

Sweat stains? Or...

Su Yuan had already turned on the water and started washing the dishes. She washed them very carefully, and every movement was precise, but certain parts of her body always revealed a sense of incoordination—for example, when washing cups, she would unconsciously rub the edge of the cabinet with the inside of her thighs; and when wiping plates, her waist would sway slightly from side to side, as if it were some kind of small, uncontrollable movement.

Lin Mo sat at the dining table, feeling as if he were standing on the edge of an elaborately set trap, but he didn't know where the trigger was.

The strange milk was still taking effect in his stomach—he felt clear-headed and alert, but with a vague sense of uneasy excitement surging through his veins.

He looked at the seemingly normal yet strangely eerie figure in the kitchen, and a new idea slowly took shape:

Perhaps the canine spirit from last night hasn't left.

Perhaps it not only didn't leave, but through the repeated stimulation of Su Yuan's body's orgasms, it gradually "learned," "digested," and "integrated" the body's original deep-seated memories, instincts, and even latent desires.

The one now controlling this body is no longer simply an animal soul, nor is it the original Su Yuan. Rather, it is a hybrid—a new being that combines animal instincts with complex human desires and longings.

Is this being meticulously planning something, and I am the sole audience member and...target?

Lin Mo stood up, preparing to leave the kitchen and go to the balcony to calm down and organize his thoughts. But just as he turned around, he caught a fleeting image of something in the trash can next to the sink out of the corner of his eye.

Su Yuan had just tossed in an empty, transparent little bottle that looked like an eye drop bottle. There was a tiny mark on the label, but Lin Mo instantly recognized the brand—

That's the brand logo of some high-end aphrodisiac.

He stumbled upon this brand while researching information about apps yesterday. It claims to "awaken deep senses," "enhance the level of sexual experience," and "use with caution, as it may lead to increased desire for control and paranoid behavior."

Lin Mo stopped at the kitchen doorway.

Behind me, the sound of flowing water stopped.

He felt Su Yuan's gaze fall on his back.

"What's wrong?" Her voice came from the kitchen, gentle and concerned. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Lin Mo turned around and saw that she had dried her hands and was leaning against the stove, arms crossed, looking at him. Her posture was casual yet carried a sense of control. Her brand-new cosplay outfit looked exceptionally dashing in the morning light, but something unfathomable flowed deep within her eyes.

"It's nothing," Lin Mo tried to make his tone sound normal. "I'm going to take a shower first."

"Okay." Su Yuan smiled slightly, her gaze lingering on him for a moment, then said softly, "There's a new bottle of shower gel in the bathroom. It smells nice; you can try it."

Lin Mo nodded, and as he turned to leave the kitchen, he could clearly feel her gaze fixed on his back.

That gaze held curiosity, expectation, a kind of cat-and-mouse playfulness, and... a naked, undisguised desire.

——————

The water in the bathroom was scalding hot.

Lin Mo stood under the showerhead, the water washing over his skin, but his mind was racing. The small medicine bottle he had seen in the kitchen earlier, and Su Yuan—or rather, this "unknown presence"—all sorts of unnatural details swirled in his mind like fragments, trying to piece together a complete picture.

Aphrodisiac. Added to milk. A strange story, an excuse. Unnatural wet patches on a tight-fitting garment. Redness and swelling on fingers. Bruising on the wrist.

And most importantly, the action of licking the milk off the corner of her mouth—that was definitely not something Su Yuan would do, but that familiar body language was clearly the instinctive habit of that stray dog ​​from last night.

A chilling conclusion gradually became clear: the canine soul did not leave; rather, under the stimulation of multiple orgasms, it absorbed something, or rather, merged with something.

It now possesses the body's long-term memories, behavioral patterns, and even fragments of personality. But at its core, it is still an animal—animal desires, animalistic need for control, animalistic primal impulses, only wrapped in a human shell.

It gave itself an aphrodisiac. Why? Was it because it craved pleasure? Or...did it have another purpose?

Lin Mo wiped the water from his face and turned off the shower. A thick layer of condensation covered the bathroom mirror. He reached out and wiped it, revealing his slightly pale face in the mirror.

Sure enough, a new bottle of shower gel sat on the shelf above the mirror. The packaging was exquisite, and the fragrance label read "Enchanting Tuberose"—the scent Su Yuan had specifically mentioned earlier. Lin hesitated for a moment as her fingertips touched the bottle, but ultimately didn't open it. Instead, she chose her usual unscented shower gel.

As I changed my clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, I heard the sound of tableware being set out from the dining room.

Lin Mo frowned. Hadn't he already finished breakfast? He walked to the restaurant entrance, but the scene before him made him stop in his tracks.

The dining table had been rearranged. The tablecloth had been replaced with a deep red velvet cloth, and a scented candle—not one of theirs—was lit in the center. Two exquisite porcelain plates were set out, containing simple fried eggs and bacon, but the presentation was as elegant as a five-star restaurant.

Su Yuan—let's call her Su Yuan today, at least outwardly—was sitting at one side of the dining table. She had changed out of her combat bodysuit and was now wearing rather casual clothes: a loose white shirt, only the bottom two buttons fastened, revealing most of her chest and the black lace bra underneath; the shirt hem just covered her hips. She wore extremely short black hot pants, but still sported her signature black over-the-knee stockings. The stockings were thin, almost transparent, tightly hugging her shapely legs.

This outfit ambiguously oscillates between "homey" and "revealing".

"Finished washing?" She looked up, her smile more natural than when she was in the kitchen, even carrying a certain languid charm. "I made some more. I noticed you didn't eat much earlier."

Lin Mo sat down opposite her, his gaze falling on the stockings on her legs: "Why did you..."

"Why are you wearing your socks?" Su Yuan picked up the conversation, casually crossing her legs, her stockinged calves swaying gently in the air. "Sorry, I was in a hurry and didn't bring enough. I saw a few new pairs of socks in your closet, so... I borrowed them."

She used the phrase "several pairs." Lin Mo's heart skipped a beat. Had she gone through his wardrobe?

"It tastes pretty good, doesn't it? That shower gel." Su Yuan picked up a fork, cut the fried egg, but didn't eat it right away. Instead, she gently stirred the yolk with the fork, her eyes never leaving Lin Mo's face. "I really like that scent."

Lin Mo gripped the fork in front of him, his knuckles turning slightly white: "Why are you in my house? I remember you said last night that after dinner you would..."

"You're about to take care of something, right?" Su Yuan interrupted him, her smile deepening. "Plans never keep up with changes."

She put a small piece of fried egg into her mouth and chewed slowly. As she swallowed, her Adam's apple bobbed against her slender neck, which was encased in stockings.

The air was filled with the faint musky scent of burning scented candles, mixed with the subtle fragrance of her "Enchanting Tuberose" shower gel. The scent was actually very faint, but for some reason, Lin Mo felt it permeated every molecule of the air, giving him a strange warmth with every breath.

Perhaps it's not just the smell. There's also the milk with that strange "honey" added.

"So," Lin Mo decided to try a different approach, "how did you sleep last night?"

When he asked the question, his gaze was fixed on her face, capturing every subtle change in her expression.

Su Yuan's hand holding the cup seemed to stiffen briefly, but it was fleeting. She took a sip of milk—this was a fresh cup she had poured herself—then put the cup down, the curve of her lips becoming somewhat subtle.

"It's alright," she said, her voice a little lower than before, "I had a very long... dream."

Her left hand slowly moved to her thigh, her fingertips tracing the inner thigh line through the thin stockings: "In my dream, I seemed to have turned into an animal. A very strange dream, wasn't it?"

Lin Mo's gaze followed her fingers. Those slender fingers pressed against the taut skin of her stockings, leaving a shallow indentation. The movement was slow and deliberate, carrying a sense of deliberate self-display.

"An animal's dream?" Lin Mo maintained his calm tone. "What kind of animal?"

“A dog.” Su Yuan’s answer was crisp and straightforward, without any hesitation. Her finger stopped at the base of her thigh, hovering over the edge of her hot pants. “A stray dog. Its fur was messy, but it was very happy.”

Her eyes became somewhat unfocused, as if she were recalling: "It ran in my dreams, foraging for food, wagging its tail, barking at strangers... a very simple life."

Lin Mo's heart pounded in his chest: "And then?"

“Then,” Su Yuan’s fingers began to move again, this time toward the other leg, “it was grabbed. Taken to a completely unfamiliar place. Its body changed, its hands and feet changed, even its way of thinking changed.”

She lifted her eyelids, the languidness in her eyes vanishing, replaced by an unfathomable focus: "The strangest thing is that it discovered this new body has many... new functions. New sensations."

She put down the fork with her other hand, placing both hands on her lap, her fingertips repeatedly rubbing that sensitive area through her stockings. The movement wasn't exaggerated, but it was obvious enough, and the living room light shone down from above at an angle, making the subtle changes in the sheen of the stockings caused by the caress clearly visible.

"You..." Lin Mo found his voice a little hoarse when he spoke. He cleared his throat, "Did you see anything strange last night? Or sense anything? Like..."

"Like being pinned down in front of a mirror and fucked from behind until you lose control of your bladder?" Su Yuan picked up the conversation, her tone as calm as if discussing the weather. "Or like being controlled by a dog's spirit, using this foot," she lifted one leg, pointed her toes, the arch of her foot encased in stockings forming a beautiful curve, "to give you a footjob?"

The air in the restaurant seemed to freeze instantly.

The flame of the scented candle flickered gently, casting dancing points of light in her eyes.

Lin Mo felt a brief blank in his mind. He had imagined many ways to test her, that she would deny it, avoid it, or pretend not to remember, but he never expected her to admit it so directly and calmly.

"You..." His throat was dry, "You remember everything?"

"Remember?" Su Yuan tilted her head, a gesture that carried an innocence beyond her years, but the content in her eyes was quite the opposite. "It's not that I remember, but... I experienced it firsthand."

She put her legs back under the table, but instead of sitting upright like a normal person, she slowly stretched her legs out under the table, her toes pointing towards Lin Mo.

Lin Mo could feel a subtle sensation coming from under the table—first, the smooth texture of the stockings brushed against his calf, then the soft foot slowly moved upwards, from the inside of his knee, up his thigh, little by little.

He didn't move. Or rather, he couldn't move. The tipsy, numbing sensation from the mixture of **** and some kind of **** was eroding his judgment. At the same time, an indescribable heat rose from deep within his lower abdomen, tug-of-war with his reason.

"Is that dog still there?" Lin Mo **** himself to look into her eyes instead of looking down at the increasingly brazen stockinged foot under the table.

The toes of her stockings were already pressed against his sensitive area between his thighs. Through the fabric of his pants, he could clearly feel that soft yet firm foot slowly and rhythmically applying pressure.

"A dog?" Su Yuan chuckled softly, her voice like the gentle tinkling of bells. "What do you think?"

Her feet began to slide slowly up and down, using the softest part of her arches to gently rub against the outline of his already erect penis. With each upward slide, her toes would press lightly at the tip; then downward, she would use the softest part of her soles to press against the shaft, while her inner thighs would tighten slightly, giving him a wave of binding pressure.

“It has learned new things,” her voice was somewhat unsteady, but her eyes were burning as she stared at Lin Mo, “like the erogenous zones of this body. Like how to make this body tremble, scream, and squirt. Like… how to use this body to experience human pleasure.”

The pressure under the table suddenly increased. The soles of her stockinged feet tightly wrapped around his penis and began to rub it up and down rapidly with an extremely skilled rhythm.

Lin Mo's breathing became uncontrollably heavy. His hands gripped the edge of the table tightly, his knuckles turning white from the ****.

"Is...is it alright?" He gritted his teeth, trying to keep the conversation going, though his voice was already hoarse with lust.

Su Yuan stretched out her other leg, her two feet clamping down on Lin Mo's center of desire, forming a gentle trap woven from stockings. Her upper body leaned slightly forward, her shirt collar opening to fully expose her deep cleavage, the edge of her black lace bra faintly visible.

"Which way do you think is better?" She tilted her head, raised her right hand, and gently traced the curve of her neck with her fingers. "As an intelligent animal with memories, trapped in a human body—should it be happy?"

The movements of her two stockinged feet became faster and more forceful. Lin Mo felt that the tip of his penis was already oozing fluid, which slipped onto the fabric of his pants and also soaked the soles of her stockinged feet.

“It misses running,” her voice lowered, with a hint of nostalgia, “it misses chasing birds, gnawing on bones, the warmth of the sun on its back… but those memories are now shrouded in mist. On the contrary, the sensations of this body are becoming clearer and clearer.”

Lin Mo's lower body was squeezed tighter and tighter. Although the stockings were thin, they formed a taut, warm, and moist sheath around his genitals. Each friction felt like a tiny electric current shooting straight up his spine.

"You..." he gasped, trying to say something, but his brain was too overwhelmed by pleasure to form coherent sentences.

“But the most interesting thing,” Su Yuan suddenly stopped moving, her two feet gently clamping his genitals, no longer moving, “is the original owner of this body.”

She watched Lin Mo's pained and contorted expression from the sudden interruption, and smiled with satisfaction: "Su Yuan, 29 years old, professional cosplayer, outwardly confident and generous, but privately suffers from severe social anxiety, relies on sleeping pills to fall asleep, has been single for many years, has little sexual experience, craves being dominated yet fears intimacy..."

As she spoke, her right hand slipped inside her shirt, gently stroking her body through her bra: "These memories play in my head like a movie. Her fear, her desire, the excitement and shame she felt when secretly watching those hardcore porn films, her fantasies of being pinned down and fucked until she was incoherent..."

That hand began to slowly knead one of her breasts, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh. Even through her shirt and bra, the dramatic deformation beneath the fabric was clearly visible.

“You know,” her voice changed again, trembling slightly, as if suppressing some uncontrollable emotion, “during my second orgasm last night, I experienced three things at the same time: the primal pleasure of a dog, Su Yuan’s sexual fantasies, and… my obedience and desire for my master—that is, you.”

Her legs began to move again, but this time it was no longer just mechanical friction; it was in sync with her hands kneading her breasts, creating a kind of obscene rhythm. When her legs squeezed, rubbed, and pressed together, her fingers would simultaneously pinch her nipples; when her legs relaxed and caressed, her fingers would gently circle her areolas.

“So you’re saying,” she lowered her head, her gaze falling on the breasts she was kneading, then looked up at Lin Mo, her eyes burning with a kind of crazy and excited light, “who am I now?”

Suddenly, she pressed her toes hard against Lin Mo's glans, and with a cry of pain mixed with **** pleasure, his entire body suddenly lifted off the chair.

But not backwards, but forwards.

She walked around the corner of the table to Lin Mo's side, and then without hesitation, straddled his lap.

Lin Mo could clearly feel the soft warmth of her inner thighs encased in stockings, and the weight of her sitting on his lap. Even worse, when she sat down, the center of her vulva, separated only by the thin fabric of her hot pants, pressed directly against the tip of his still-erect penis.

“Answer me.” She wrapped her arms around Lin Mo’s neck, leaning back slightly to accentuate her soft breasts. “Am I that stray dog ​​who only wants to lick your shoes and wags its tail when you pet it? Or am I that lonely woman hiding at home, masturbating and fantasizing about being **** by a stranger? Or…”

Her buttocks began to slowly, in a circular motion, rubbing against his center of desire. The thin fabric of her hot pants was completely soaked with their bodily fluids, offering almost no barrier.

"Or a mixture of these?" Her lips brushed close to Lin Mo's ear, her breath hot and moist. "A new species with the loyalty and obedience of a dog, and the endless lust and inferiority complex of a woman?"

Lin Mo tried to push her away, but his arm wouldn't obey him. He wanted to retort, but the words turned into a muffled sob in his throat. The glass of milk, her perfume, the scented candles, and her naked, oppressive lust—everything was eroding his rational defenses.

“Tell me,” she said, her fingers sliding through Lin Mo’s hair and gently tugging at it, “how did you do that? That app? Some kind of witchcraft? Or a scientific experiment?”

Lin Mo closed his eyes, trying to block out the soul-searching question in her eyes.

But her lips were already pressed against his earlobe, held in her mouth, and she gently nibbled at it with her teeth: "To stuff the soul of a dog into a woman's body—and then play with both of us?"

The last few words were almost a groan. Her whole body was trembling violently, not from fear, but from excitement.

Her hips quickened the rubbing motion, each rotation pressing their sensitive spots even tighter. She could feel his massive member rubbing against her entrance, each touch causing her body, already familiar with pleasure, to contract sharply; he could feel her entrance was completely wet and open, like a hungry little mouth, yearning to be filled.

“Tell me,” her voice broke, trembling with sobs—not cries of sorrow, but sobs of overwhelming pleasure, “or I’ll come on your lap and drain you dry…”

Her hand slid down Lin Mo's hair, slipped inside his collar, caressed his chest muscles, then moved down to his waistband, and directly grasped his hot penis.

Her lips moved away from his ear and covered his lips.

It was a deep kiss, savage and predatory, the tongue probing deep into his mouth, sucking and licking with the eagerness of a dog licking its food.

Lin Mo's rationality completely collapsed.

He returned her kiss, his hands instinctively gripping her waist, pulling her body closer to him, so that their genitals rubbed together more closely through the thin fabric.

He neither admitted anything nor answered anything, but language had become ineffective in the face of desire.

Su Yuan—it should be given a new name now. She is neither Su Yuan nor that dog, but some indescribable hybrid existence—trembled violently on his legs, reaching orgasm. Her clear love fluid soaked through her thin hot pants, also wetting a large area of ​​his pants.

Once the spasms of her orgasm subsided slightly, she didn't leave. Instead, she hugged him even tighter, bringing her lips close to his ear and whispering in a barely audible voice:

"That memory of being '****'... Now you know why I posted that tweet?"

Lin Mo froze.

“Because that’s me,” her voice was as soft as a feather tickling my eardrum, “longing to be seen by everyone, longing to be known by everyone—I’ve had that experience, that ****, twisted, crazy pleasure.”

“But you can’t say it directly,” she said, her fingers tracing circles on his chest again, “so using that method… isn’t it clever?”

She looked up at Lin Mo's shocked expression and revealed a satisfied yet wickedly sweet smile.

"Now, do you have many questions you want to ask me?"

But before Lin Mo could answer, she pulled him up from the chair and pushed him toward the bedroom.

“But before that,” her voice was almost melting with desire, “let’s finish what we didn’t do last night.”

The bedroom door was pushed open and then closed again.

Meanwhile, the stray dog ​​named "Big Black" was rummaging through the trash cans in the community downstairs, wagging its tail, its eyes clear—completely unaware that a soul of the same origin was in a room upstairs, experiencing pleasure and desire a hundred times more complex than animal instincts with a human body.

That soul chose to stay, chose to merge, and chose to become a new, dangerous being that perfectly blended animal instincts with complex human desires.

She—or it—was throwing itself headlong into the new, boundless ocean of sexual desire that this body could offer. The bedroom door was closed, shutting out the scented candlelight in the living room and the gradually brightening daylight outside the window.

Lin Mo was pushed down onto the mattress, his back hitting the soft blanket with a dull thud. Before he could get up, a soft, warm female body straddled him, her legs spread apart as she knelt at his waist, her black stockings gleaming delicately in the dim light.

“Now,” Su Yuan, straddling his waist, leaned forward, her loose hair brushing against Lin Mo’s cheek, carrying the sweet scent of aphrodisiac mixed with shower gel, “it’s my turn to ask you.”

Her hands rested on either side of Lin Mo's head, her upper body leaning slightly forward, causing her loose white shirt to open even more completely. Her black lace bra couldn't conceal the shape of her full breasts, which swayed gently with her breath.

Lin Mo tried to get up, but she pressed down on his shoulder with one hand. Her strength was astonishing—definitely not the strength of an ordinary woman, but more like the strength of a trained body whose potential had been unleashed.

“That app,” she said in a low voice, enunciating slowly, as if savoring each word, “is something that works just by taking a picture, right?”

Lin Mo's pupils suddenly contracted.

She didn't notice—or rather, didn't care about his reaction—and continued, "You took pictures of Big Black, and you took pictures of me too. But last night... you only had one picture of me, and you were able to possess him."

Her fingertips began to slowly slide across the buttons of Lin Mo's shirt, unbuttoning them one by one: "So you don't actually need two photos? Or rather, with just one photo, you can stuff any soul into another body?"

All the buttons were undone, exposing Lin Mo's chest to the cool air. Her fingers slid up to his chest, her fingertips tentatively caressing his pectoral muscles.

“Very interesting rules,” she said, her voice tinged with the excitement of discovering a secret. “So, if I get my hands on that app…”

She suddenly slammed her lower body down, and through the two thin layers of fabric, their genitals were precisely aligned and pressed together. Lin Mo let out a muffled groan, caught off guard.

"...Can I do the same thing?" She finished the sentence, her curiosity turning into naked possessiveness.

Her hand slid down Lin Mo's chest, past his taut abdomen, and into his pants, once again grasping his already rock-hard member.

“Tell me,” her voice husky with desire, her hand gripping the shaft slowly stroking it up and down, “how do you control the object of your exchange? Distance restrictions? Contact time? Or are there other parameters?”

Each squeeze of his palm, each flick of his fingertips at the sensitive spot on the ribbon, caused Lin Mo's rationality to crumble a little more. The milk with the strange "honey" added, the aphrodisiac ingredients infused into her body fragrance, and this state of being simultaneously attacked by naked interrogation and sexual pleasure—all his defenses were crumbling.

“I…don’t know…” Lin Mo said, his voice sounding strange and distant to his ears, “I just…tried…”

"Try?" She suddenly laughed, her voice clear and melodious like a silver bell, but the words sent a chill down Lin Mo's spine. "Use a dog's soul to fill a woman's body?"

Her manipulation suddenly became slow and highly skillful. Instead of directly attacking the sensitive glans, she completely enveloped the shaft with her palm, starting from the base and moving slowly, patiently, and firmly towards the tip. She paused briefly just before reaching the frenulum, pressing and circling it a few times with the pad of her thumb before continuing upwards.

This kind of manipulation is like a well-thought-out form of ****, accumulating pleasure every second, yet never giving a point of release.

“Do you know what I—or rather, that dog—was thinking during the climax last night,” her lips brushed close to Lin Mo’s ear, her breath hot, “?

Lin Mo closed his eyes, trying to escape the frantic, flashing light in her gaze.

"It wants to lick your face." Her voice softened, carrying a kind of terrifying intimacy, "like when you used to feed it leftovers, licking your hands with its wet tongue. But at the same time, Su Yuan's body instinctively wants you to fuck her until she loses control of her bladder,"

She increased the pressure and speed of her manipulation, "These two desires mixed together... and became something entirely new."

Lin Mo's waist arched upwards uncontrollably, chasing after her hand. The pleasure accumulated too quickly, and a series of spasms came from deep within his lower abdomen.

“Like this,” her voice suddenly became muffled, as if mimicking the tones of two people at the same time, “'Master...it feels so good...' and 'Fuck me...harder...'.

She released Lin Mo's penis with her left hand and went to unbutton her hot pants. But it wasn't the usual way of undressing—she just ripped it open with ****, and the sound of the hidden buttons popping off was particularly clear in the quiet bedroom.

The hot pants were pulled down a bit, completely exposing the inner thighs covered by dark black stockings. The edge of the stockings, which went deep between the legs, and the completely exposed, wet and shiny female vulva below were fully presented to Lin Mo's view.

“So tell me the complete rules,” she said, gripping his hand again and guiding him directly to her wet opening. “Otherwise, I’ll just sit here and drain you dry before I go research that app myself.”

The tip of the glans sank into that soft, moist entrance, and the taut vaginal muscles immediately enveloped it as if they were alive.

Her threat was no joke. Lin Mo could feel every cell in her body yearning, a frenzied yearning that blended animal instincts with human lust.

“Camera app…” he gasped, sweat trickling down his forehead, “After taking the picture…select the target…and then…”

Her body sank an inch, the protruding glans of flesh being enveloped and squeezed by the tighter, more tender flesh deeper inside.

"And then what?" she asked, her voice trembling, clearly also being overwhelmed by intense lust.

"Then... thinking about transferring... I can..." Lin Mo said intermittently, his brain almost unable to think due to the impact of sexual pleasure.

"Thinking?" She sat down a little further, and Lin Mo could clearly feel his genitals being enveloped, swallowed, and squeezed by layers of hot, tight flesh. "So you need a clear sense of purpose?"

Her hips continued to sink until they accommodated half of the length.

"Ah..." The two groaned at the same time—Lin Mo because of the **** pleasure of being completely enveloped, and she because of the immense satisfaction of being completely filled.

"Under what circumstances..." she paused, her lower abdomen trembling slightly, clearly struggling to fight the pleasure and maintain her rationality, "can it be stopped?"

"Climax..." Lin Mo could barely utter a complete sentence.

"Automatically canceled after climax?" Her eyes lit up. "But last night...we did it more than once. Why...?"

She suddenly realized something, and the madness in her eyes intensified: "You...re-possessed after each orgasm?"

Lin Mo acquiesced. His phone was right by the bedside; he could easily reconnect during her brief moment of distraction.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking with laughter: "No wonder...no wonder it always feels like a fresh start, yet it still carries the afterglow of the last time...You had a lot of fun, didn't you?"

Without waiting for Lin Mo's reply, she suddenly plunged in, completely swallowing his penis.

Both of them simultaneously let out a nearly suffocating scream.

She lay on top of Lin Mo, breathing heavily, her sweat-dampened hair clinging to her cheeks. The feeling of being completely filled made her momentarily lose herself; animal instincts and human rationality reached a critical balance in this **** pleasure.

Then she started moving.

At first, it was a slow, exploratory rise and fall. With each lift of the hips, the flesh walls would grip the shaft tightly, as if **** to let it go; with each sink, it would greedily swallow the whole thing, until a faint outline of the lower abdomen bulged out.

But soon, the pace became wild.

Her movements were haphazard and unrefined, primal, direct, and powerful, like animal mating. Her hips slammed against each other, producing a series of sharp, slapping sounds. Her fingernails dug deeply into Lin Mo's shoulders, leaving deep marks.

“That’s it…” Her voice was broken, as if she were speaking to Lin Mo, yet also as if she were talking to herself, “Dog mating…human sex…mixed together…”

She suddenly thrust upwards at a high frequency, causing the sensitive tip to scrape against the soft flesh deep inside her body again and again.

Lin Mo felt something explode inside his body.

My vision suddenly went white, my ears were ringing, my muscles in my waist and legs were tense to the limit, and then—

Hot semen gushed out uncontrollably, penetrating the deepest part of her body.

She clearly felt the scalding ejaculation inside her, her whole body tensed, and she let out a sharp, almost inhuman scream. Her body convulsed violently, her inner walls spasming and clenching as if trying to completely drain him.

The climax lasted a long time.

When the two of them finally collapsed, Su Yuan still clung to Lin Mo, unwilling to part.

Sweat mixed with bodily fluids soaked through the sheets.

After what seemed like an eternity, she looked up, her eyes shining brightly in the darkness: "Where is that app now?"

Lin Mo was exhausted, his mind a complete blank: "On the phone..."

"Can you teach me how to use it?" Her voice softened, with a hint of deliberate flattery. "I'd like to... try it too."

Lin Mo did not answer, or rather, he simply did not have the strength to answer.

She didn't seem to expect an immediate response. She simply climbed off him gently, pulled the blanket over their naked bodies, and snuggled up to him like a stray dog ​​that had finally found its owner.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” she said, her voice tinged with contented drowsiness, “but we have to agree… if you teach me how to use it, I’ll…”

She yawned, her fingers unconsciously tracing the back of her lower abdomen, feeling the lingering pleasure still throbbing inside. "I will never leave you."

Lin Mo closed his eyes, and his consciousness gradually sank into darkness.

But before he completely lost consciousness, he vaguely heard her whisper in his ear:

Do you know why Big Black always waits for you downstairs?

She paused for a moment, then continued:

"Because it thinks you are its owner."

Even softer sounds were almost swallowed up by sleepiness:

"And now... I've decided that you are too."

***

The next morning, when Lin Mo woke up, there was no one beside her.

Only the wrinkles and dried marks on the sheets proved that last night was not a dream.

He sat up, his head throbbing, sunlight streaming into his eyes through the gap in the curtains. The bedroom door was open, and he could hear the rhythmic chopping of vegetables coming from the kitchen.

And... faint, suppressed groans?

Lin Mo tiptoed toward the kitchen. This time he didn't get too close, but stood at the corner of the hallway, observing through the narrow mirror.

In the kitchen, Su Yuan was cutting fruit with her back to him. She had changed into a clean white T-shirt and athletic shorts, looking very casual and relaxed.

But her posture...

Her legs were slightly apart, and her gluteal muscles exhibited a clear, rhythmic contraction and relaxation. Each time her gluteal muscles tightened, her waist would tremble slightly, and her hand holding the knife would pause briefly.

Lin Mo's gaze fell downwards, landing on the floor—a small, cylindrical, vibrating toy carelessly tossed in the shadows of the cupboard. The toy was still vibrating slightly, emitting a very faint buzzing sound.

And she... apparently just...

Lin Mo turned around and quietly retreated back to the bedroom.

He quickly opened the bedside table, took out his phone, and unlocked the screen—the app was still there.

Then he opened his photo album and found the picture he had taken of Big Black the night before. In the photo, the yellow-haired mongrel was squatting downstairs, looking up at the camera with an innocent expression.

He brought up the app, pointed it at the photo, and pressed the shutter button.

The dizziness was more intense than ever before. Lin Mo leaned against the headboard, clenching his teeth as he awaited the impact of losing consciousness.

But that impact didn't come.

A few seconds later, the dizziness subsided, and he was still inside his body. The app interface displayed a red cross and a line of small text:

Error: No connection object available.

Lin Mo was stunned. He tried again, but the result was the same.

He walked quickly to the window and looked down—

The corner downstairs where Big Black used to hang out yesterday is now empty. The stray dog ​​is gone.

My phone beeped with a new message notification. Su Yuan sent a photo: orange juice and toast, beautifully plated, with sunlight streaming through the window.

The caption only had three words:

"Eat breakfast."

Lin Mo looked at the photo and suddenly noticed a few soft, yellowish dog hairs stuck to the corner of the tablecloth.

His phone vibrated slightly; a second message had arrived.

"By the way, I saw the security guards in our community catching stray dogs last night. Poor Dahei, it's probably been taken to a shelter."

——————

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped.

Lin Mo's breathing went from heavy to steady, and finally to even, long breaths—he had fallen asleep.

I curled up on the other side of the bed, the lingering sensation still slowly, wave after wave, washing over every nerve ending. This body had just experienced... countless orgasms. Each one was different.

When I was a big black dog, the climax was simple—when I was in heat, I'd find a female dog, mount her, have a violent shudder, ejaculate, and that was it. The feeling was short, sharp, and I'd immediately relax after ejaculating.

But this human female body...

no the same.

The moment she was penetrated, the feeling of being filled made her lower abdomen swell heavily, as if it were about to burst. Then, the memories and instincts of that human soul—Su Yuan—exploded in every part of her body: shame, fear, but mixed with an intense, undeniable pleasure. And her shameful fantasies: being pinned against the wall and violated, being **** to say lewd things, being fucked until she lost control of her bladder and bowels... all these hidden, dirty desires surged up in that instant, mingling with the physical pleasure of being forcibly filled.

Then came the last time, when he ejaculated inside, the scalding liquid pouring in to the deepest point...

I looked down at my hands. They weren't dog paws, but long, slender human fingers with rounded tips. The skin was fair, the knuckles distinct, and the nails were painted a pale pink. When I shook my wrist, it would rotate in coordination, the joints incredibly flexible.

I clenched my fist, then opened it again, repeating this several times. The muscles beneath the skin tightened and relaxed, and the movement of every tendon was clearly visible.

This sense of control... is amazing.

I slowly and laboriously sat up in bed. My legs were sore and weak, and the muscles on the inside of my thighs were protesting, but this pain only made the pleasure more pronounced. I turned my gaze to the full-length dressing mirror at the foot of the bed.

The reflection in the mirror stunned me.

Her long, dark gray hair was slightly disheveled, falling over her shoulders and chest. That face... I knew it was Su Yuan's face; makeup made her features more defined and delicate, but the look in her eyes at this moment was definitely not hers. Not the Miss Su who always maintained a professional smile, impeccable manners, and elegant speech in front of the camera.

There was something wild and gleaming in his eyes. Like... some kind of animal that had just been tamed but hadn't forgotten how to tear and bite.

I braced myself against the edge of the bed and slowly moved towards the mirror. My bare feet were a little cool on the floor, but that was just enough to suppress the lingering heat inside me. As I moved, the friction on my inner thighs brought out a slight tingling and numb sensation, which spread from the acupoint to my entire lower abdomen... and even higher.

Standing in front of the mirror, I stopped and carefully examined myself in the mirror.

The combat bodysuit was torn and hung crookedly on my body, its once sharp lines now full of wrinkles and tears. A long tear at the shoulder almost completely exposed one of my breasts—not the subtle exposure of an underwear bra, but its natural shape: full, white, slightly red from body heat, the nipple erect and engorged from the intense friction and biting, almost wildly erect.

I raised my hand and touched the exposed edge. The skin was hot, sweaty, and...a strange, slippery feeling. I leaned closer to the mirror and saw a translucent, viscous substance clinging to my fingertips. Was it sweat? Or...?

I looked down at the space between my legs. My black leggings were torn open, my socks and underwear were nowhere to be seen, and there was only a wet hole slowly closing, the edges of which were red and swollen and everted, from which a stream of milky white liquid was flowing out, meandering down my inner thigh.

Was that what I ejaculated during my orgasm just now?

I reached out to touch the puddle of liquid, but my fingertips recoiled as soon as they touched it from the heat.

Hot.

I lowered my head and put my fingers in my mouth.

Salty.

It's a little sweet.

I looked up at myself in the mirror and slowly put a finger in my mouth. First, I tentatively licked it, then held it in my mouth, mimicking the feeling of that thing moving inside me...

My face in the mirror was so red it looked like it was about to bleed, but my eyes were getting brighter and brighter.

I spread my legs.

My left foot stepped into the still-warm and fishy-smelling liquid that had just dripped down, feeling its slippery texture; my right foot slid across the floor, searching for a foothold. My thigh muscles tensed, my glutes tightened...

I stood alone in front of the mirror, wearing this tattered combat suit, my body covered in red welts, my lower body a mess, yet I maintained a certain contorted posture—as if I were programmed to strike a classic pose from the EVE Online female character:

I knelt on one knee, supporting myself with one hand and leaning slightly forward, while pinching the red nipple exposed from the cleft in my chest with the other hand—a gesture that made me blush.

I made myself recall those postures—every detail was crystal clear.

First, there was that time when she was lying on the back of the chair, and he grabbed her ankles from behind and flipped her over... wait? No, that was her first orgasm?

Then there's the position during the second climax—what was it again? Oh right, it's the position where he pinned me against the wall and fucked me face-to-face, but then **** me to turn my face and kiss my reflection in the mirror.

There's a third climax...

No, no, no, no, no, no!

Stop!! Don't think about it anymore!! If you keep thinking about it, you'll remember how those poses were done!!! If you keep thinking about it, you'll remember how those poses were done!!! If you keep thinking about it, you'll remember how those poses were done!!! If you keep thinking about it... you'll remember how those poses were done!!!

-"What are you doing?"

—"I...I'm practicing..."

—"What are you practicing?"

"...Practice...be a good boy..." The figure in the mirror took a deep breath, forcing himself to retract those overly lewd thoughts.

But the body has its own memory.

I released my grip on her nipple and continued to mimic Shen He's poses from my memory—those powerful poses he'd displayed on stage. I raised my left hand, pretending to hold an invisible bow and arrow, pulled the bowstring with my right, turned my body to the side, and looked sharply into the mirror.

The tear in her chest widened further with this movement, exposing most of her breast completely, the nipple standing even more erect from being exposed to the air. The fabric of her bodysuit rubbed against that sensitive tip, and every slight movement brought a sharp pain followed by a tingling, numbing sensation that made her legs weak.

“Don’t be so presumptuous,” I said to myself in the mirror, trying to imitate Shen He’s cold and authoritative tone.

But when the voice came out, it sounded broken and erotic because the hoarseness from the scream still lingered in his throat. It didn't sound like Shen He at all; instead, it sounded like some kind of... cosplayer who had failed in a role-playing contest and was fucked until he lost his voice.

My cheeks flushed red when I saw this in the mirror.

But deeper still, an indescribable sense of excitement welled up inside.

Shen He. That noble, powerful, and untainted immortal.

And I—or rather, the former owner of this body—desperately imitated her, wanting to become her, wanting to merge with her on stage at that moment.

What about now?

I looked down at my filthy body: my torn cosplay outfit, my body covered in semen and sweat, my swollen nipples, and the constant dripping of semen mixed with white fluid between my legs.

Shen He's clothes were on a body possessed by a dog's soul, which had just been violated to the point of being delirious.

The sense of moral depravity brought about by this realization was stronger than any previous physical pleasure.

I raised my hand and began to stroke the tight-fitting combat suit, starting from the shoulders.

The garment was custom-made, the fabric tough yet elastic. It was supposed to cling to the skin, outlining strength and elegance. But now it was covered in wrinkles, tears, and damp patches. My fingers slid along the seam at the waist, feeling the subtle pressure of the fabric as it stretched. Then they slid down to the hips, the area that had once perfectly hugged the curves of the hips due to the tight design, now soaked with large, dark patches of sweat and bodily fluids.

My hand stopped on the outside of my thigh.

The fabric here is slightly thinner, allowing a glimpse of the skin tone and the contours of the muscles beneath. More importantly... I looked down. On the inner thigh, near the groin, the fabric of the leggings, due to repeated tearing and friction, had frayed at the edges, forming a loose tear. Several torn strands of black stockings clung to the edge of the tear, like tattered spiderwebs.

My fingertips probed into the opening. The skin inside was smooth and burning hot, unusually sensitive from constant friction against the rough fabric. The slightest touch sent a violent tremor through my entire groin.

I decided to extend my fingers further, sliding them along the edge of the cleft in my lower body. The sensation was strange—the skin was warm and moist, but the fabric inside the tight pants was icy cold, creating a stark temperature difference. With each slide, I could feel the soft flesh inside, which had just been repeatedly pounded, trembling as it contracted and relaxed.

I withdrew my hand, looking at the fresh, clear sap on my fingertips. It was clearer than the liquid from before, and gave off a...sweet citrus astringent smell?

It's an aphrodisiac. The memories of this body tell me that Su Yuan sometimes secretly used such things to maintain her body's sensitivity for the sake of the filming effect.

I put my finger in my mouth again.

This time, the liquid was thicker and the taste was more... pungent. It tasted like seawater, or like some kind of split fruit, with a hint of blood and rust.

My body trembled slightly at the smell.

I started imitating the lines from my memory again, but my voice had begun to distort. It was no longer Shen He's clear and powerful tone, but rather filled with gasps and sobs, as if I were forcibly reciting some obscene incantation.

"Mortal...this place is not a place for you...uh...to set foot..."

With each word I spoke, I ran my fingers along the edge of that warm, moist opening. When I said "yes," I extended both fingers, pressing them against the slightly parted, swollen entrance.

"How dare you..."

Before he could finish the third word, half of his finger joint had already disappeared into the ground.

Warm, humid, and dense.

I could feel every fold of skin enveloping and sucking more clearly than when the previous thing entered. This entrance seemed to remember the feeling of being violently expanded, and now even a slow, gentle intrusion would greedily tighten, demanding more.

I leaned against the mirror, looking at the reflection of a figure with unfocused eyes, slightly parted lips, reciting Shen He's lines while masturbating with his fingers.

"Ha...you...shameless...bitch..."

This line is a mixture of my voice and Shen He's lines. Half of it comes from lines in pornographic films that Su Yuan remembered watching, and the other half comes from the raw, real feeling of being fucked just now.

But the rhythm was right. As the last word of that sentence was uttered, my finger thrust in sharply, and then began to pump rapidly.

The sound of water.

The sounds of water, utterly lewd, echoed in the quiet room. I kept mimicking Shen He's tone and lines, while relentlessly poking myself with my fingers. Each thrust pressed against the deepest, most sensitive spot of flesh that had just been played with.

"Riding the wind... ah... soaring... haa... straight up to the ninth heaven..."

The climax came quickly and intensely.

My back slammed against the cold mirror, my legs spasming violently, the fabric of my tight pants on my inner thighs nearly tearing. A liquid hotter than before gushed from the depths of my body, flowing wildly down my fingers and inner thighs, leaving unsightly watermarks on the floor.

I slid down to the floor against the mirror, panting heavily, sweat dripping from my forehead into my eyes, stinging painfully.

But after **** fatigue, the brain entered a state of unprecedented clarity.

I looked down at my limp, still slightly trembling body.

A dog's paws can't perform such delicate movements. A dog's tongue can't lick that deep. A dog's brain... simply can't comprehend what this repeated, intensified pleasure means.

But this human female body can.

I can.

I struggled to my feet, dragging my still-convulsing legs, and staggered towards the bathroom. I turned on the tap, and the icy water splashed across my face, clearing my jumbled thoughts slightly.

But clarity brings not peace, but a clearer understanding.

This body is so beautiful.

It's not just about experiencing pleasure.

Rather, it allows one to experience so many layers, so much complexity, so much...

I looked down at the water washing over my arms; my skin was smooth and supple, my muscles defined. This body, honed through long-term training, was supple, elastic, and possessed remarkable stamina. And those...orgasmic reactions just now further proved that it likely possessed astonishing potential and sensitivity in sexual matters.

I turned off the water, dried my face, and went back to the bedroom.

I ignored the mess on the floor and climbed back into bed, burrowing under the covers.

The warmth of Lin Mo's body and his distinctive masculine scent still lingered in the blankets. It was reassuring. It made you want to be close to him.

I curled up, hugging myself, feeling the smooth, comfortable sensation of my legs, encased in stockings, rubbing against each other under the thin blanket.

Then, I remembered what I used to look like: messy, grayish-yellow fur, a emaciated body, always hungry, rummaging through garbage heaps for food. Humans would frown at me, children would throw stones at me, and even the kindest people would only throw me some food from a distance, not daring to come closer.

And now...

I placed my hands on my chest, feeling the full, soft breasts pulsating in my palms. The nipples were still hard. I buried my face in their warm softness, taking a deep breath. It was a sweet, fishy smell of sweat and aphrodisiacs, but beneath the surface was the healthy, youthful scent of a woman.

I wrapped myself even tighter in the blanket, as if afraid that someone might suddenly appear and take this body away.

No.

I will never return it to that cowardly human, Su Yuan.

She's mine now.

This body is beautiful, sexy, sensitive, and powerful.

Shin Hyuk's clothes.

The adoration of fans.

Lin Mo's... manipulation?

The last sentence made me pause for a moment.

But soon, I felt a slight spasm in my lower body from the afterglow of the orgasm, and the source of that pleasure—the app on my phone, with its ability to take photos and transfer my soul—was still in the hands of its owner.

It doesn't matter.

I closed my eyes, huddled under the covers, and a smile that was a mixture of innocence and wickedness spread across my face.

Dogs are masters at pleasing their owners.

Dogs are also masters at...waiting for an opportunity.

I touched my firm nipples, feeling the waves of pleasure that kept rising and falling. With my last bit of strength, I rubbed myself against the silky blanket and masturbated again. After reaching my climax, I finally drifted off to sleep.

Before completely losing consciousness, the last thought was:

Master, you'd better teach me how to use that app.

otherwise...

Dogs can learn to open doors and find bones in the trash.