A hunger in more ways then one.

Her stomach growled.

It wasn't just hunger. It was ravenous, hollow ache, as if the transformation had burned more than calories. She needed food. Fast. And she needed to get it without being seen.

Alex slipped out of bed, bare feet meeting the floor with hesitant contact. Each step sent echoes up her spine—breasts heavy, thighs slick, shaft dragging softly along her leg. She pulled her blanket around her like a cloak, hoping it would be enough to hide the blooming curves beneath.

She peeked out of her room. The hallway was quiet. No light under her sister’s door. Maybe she wasn’t home yet. Or maybe she’d just gone out for a smoke.

Quick now, the voice urged, almost playful. Before the world sees what you’ve become.

She padded down the hall, blanket clutched tight, every creak of the old wood underfoot a shot of adrenaline. In the kitchen, she made for the fridge, grabbing the first thing that looked edible—leftover pasta, cold and clumped together.

The sound of a key in the front lock froze her mid-step.

Alex held her breath. The doorknob turned.

The door didn’t open all the way. Not yet. Her sister, Hannah, was still outside, pausing in place. Alex didn’t have to guess why.

She could smell herself.

It was faint to Alex, like the trace of perfume left on skin—but to anyone else, the scent that clung to the air was overwhelming. Her sweat carried pheromones that adapted to the nose that caught them, tailored desire sculpted in vapor. And her body had leaked more than sweat.

Alex glanced back at the hall. A glisten on the floor where she had stood too long. It wasn’t visible in the dark, but the smell was enough to linger. Heavy. Sweet. Warm. It whispered what her voice would never say.

From the other side of the door, Hannah inhaled. Then again. A low murmur. Confused. Drawn in.

Alex fled silently back to her room, steps light, her thighs damp, her breath caught in her throat. She made it back just as the front door opened.

“Alex?” Hannah’s voice was distant, as if distracted. “Were you up?”

Alex didn’t answer. She pressed her back to her bedroom wall and listened.

She noticed, the voice purred. They always do. You carry power now. You exude it.

Alex crawled back into bed and pulled the covers tight. Her skin still hummed—too soft, too welcoming. Even the brush of fabric sent tingles through her. Flesh like velvet. Breasts like clouds. A body made to be touched and never let go.

She curled inward, ashamed of the power she could already feel weaving around her.

Not shame, the voice said gently. You’re afraid because you know what this means. They won’t just want you. They’ll need you.

Hunger gnawed at her now—simple, bodily hunger. She hadn’t eaten since the night before, and every cell in her body demanded fuel. Moving carefully, she slid from the bed and pulled on the longest shirt she owned. It clung too tightly now, stretched over her chest and falling short of her thighs. Her shorts felt like a joke. Her new anatomy pressed against the fabric in every direction.

She tiptoed to her door, cracked it open, and listened.

Silence.

Good. Her sister hadn’t returned yet.

Barefoot, Alex crept down the hall. The house felt colder than usual, or maybe her new skin just responded more sharply. Every breeze along her legs sent a ripple of awareness up her spine. She clutched the shirt hem tighter and padded across the tile floor toward the kitchen.

The refrigerator opened with a quiet hum. She grabbed a yogurt, a leftover burrito, and a bottle of water. Balanced them in her arms, then turned to head back upstairs before the sound of keys in the front door—or worse, a voice—could ruin everything.

She’ll see you, the voice cooed. She’ll love you.

Alex grit her teeth and kept walking.

Her cock had softened by the time she left her room, dulled under stress and exhaustion. But now, back in bed, the whisper returned—thicker, wetter, deeper than before. It curled in her ear like steam across skin.

You’re so close to understanding, it said. You don’t need to hide from what you are. Your hunger, your touch, your scent—it’s art, Alex. Divine. Wouldn't you like to see what your body can really do?

The sound of Slaanesh’s voice wasn’t just sound. It stroked her. Pressed her. Worshiped her with every syllable. Her breath caught. Her thighs tensed. Her cock throbbed, swelling again with slow, undeniable purpose.

She squeezed her legs together. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.

Only what you already want. To be seen. To be felt. To be adored.

Her heart pounded. “Tell me who you are.”

You already know. Say it.

“I want answers,” she said aloud. “Tell me what you did to me.”

The moment the words left her mouth, her stomach sank. She had spoken louder than she meant to.

A voice came from the hall. “Alex?”

Her sister had heard her.