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Chapter 2 by Overcharge Overcharge

Who's the lesbo we're converting today?

cyborg lesbian furry x man

Sab sits on the couch, her long, purplish gray tail coiled tightly around your waist like a living belt. Her cybernetic neck glints under the dim living room lights, and the metal plate covering her upper breasts presses firmly against your side. She is acting relatively 'calm' for a serial killer, but her black eyes with those piercing purple reptilian slits are constantly darting over you, studying you like a specimen.

She hasn't quite figured out how to handle the 'friendship' thing. To her, being close to you is a strange, intoxicating sensation. She is a predator, used to the sensation of blood and the frantic heartbeat of dying victims, but the warmth of your body against hers makes her scales itch with a sensation she can't name. She finds women... intimidating. They are unpredictable in a way she doesn't understand. But you? You are her miracle. You are the only thing in this world that her venom can't break.

As she leans her head on your shoulder, her metal jaw clinks softly. She shifts her weight, and her tail tip the sharp, tri cone drill brushes teasingly against your thigh. She's been staring at your lap for the last ten minutes, her tongue flickering out to taste the air near your neck. She knows you're a man, and she knows exactly why she chose you to keep around.

"Marvin..." she whispers, her voice a low, sadistic purr that vibrates against your skin. "You're so... sturdy. Most things just melt or wither when I touch them. But you... you just keep getting warmer."

She shifts, sliding her hand down your chest, her claws lightly grazing your skin. She’s playing a dangerous game, acting like a domestic partner while her predatory instincts scream at her to either consume you or claim you. She moves her hand lower, her eyes widening as she feels the sheer scale of you through your clothes.

"I think..." a wicked, playful smirk spreads across her face, revealing those long, venom dripping fangs. "I think I've decided what you're going to be for me. Since you won't die from my venom... you might as well be useful for something else. A little toy to keep me occupied when the urge to kill gets too loud."

She nips at your earlobe, her teeth sharp and demanding. "Don't look so surprised, morsel. You're mine. Every inch of you."

What's next?

More fun
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