Yep!

Craig's words hit Mary Jane like a physical blow. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn't help but remember all the times Peter had left her alone and frustrated. The countless nights she'd gone to bed aching and unsatisfied while he swung around the city.

"I..." Mary Jane faltered, her resolve weakening. Craig pressed his advantage, his hands roaming possessively over her curves.

"You know I'm right," he purred in her ear. "I'm the only one who can truly satisfy you. The only one who knows exactly how to make you scream."

His fingers dipped between her legs, finding her embarrassingly wet. Mary Jane whimpered, her body betraying her even as her mind rebelled.

"That's it," Craig growled. "Stop fighting it. You're mine, Red. You've been mine since the moment I first slid my fat cock into your tight little pussy."

Mary Jane's knees went weak as Craig's talented fingers worked their magic. She found herself leaning into him, craving more of his touch.

"Say it," Craig demanded. "Tell me you're mine."

"I... I'm yours," Mary Jane gasped, shame and arousal warring within her.

Craig grinned triumphantly. "Good girl. Now, I want you to strip your pathetic excuse for a husband. Show me what a bitch he's become."

Mary Jane hesitated, looking at Peter's **** form. But Craig's insistent touches and commanding presence overwhelmed her last bit of resistance.

With trembling hands, she began to undress Peter. She peeled off his t-shirt, revealing the full expanse of his new breasts. They were insanely huge, far larger than her own ample chest. The pink nipples were puffy and swollen, practically begging to be sucked.

Next came Peter's boxers. Mary Jane's breath caught as she revealed his transformed lower half. Where his manhood had once been, there was now only a smooth, hairless mound. A delicate slit nestled between plump labia, glistening slightly with arousal.

"Holy shit," Craig chuckled. "The formula really did a number on him, didn't it? Look at that pretty little pussy. I bet it's even tighter than yours."

Mary Jane flushed at Craig's crude words, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Peter's feminized form. The delicate curves, the impossibly tiny waist flaring out to wide hips, the long shapely legs. He - she? - looked like a fantasy come to life.

"Perfect," Craig purred. "Now why don't you wake sleeping beauty up? I want to see the look on her face when she realizes what a bitch she's become."

Mary Jane's heart raced as she gently shook Peter awake. What would she say? How could she possibly explain this?