Two days later, I'm staring at the ceiling, watching the fan blades spin in endless circles while my hips work mechanically behind Amy. Her body yields perfectly to my every thrust, simultaneously firm and yielding in ways no human could be. She makes all the right noises, moans, and gasps that would normally drive me wild.
But I feel nothing. Physically, it's incredible. Emotionally, I'm a void.
Amy glances over her shoulder, those unnaturally purple eyes locking with mine. "Harder," she purrs, her voice shifting mid-word from sultry woman to something ancient and hungry.
I comply automatically, gripping her hips tighter, driving deeper. Her skin ripples beneath my fingers like I'm holding onto something that's only pretending to be solid.
"God, Ben, you feel amazing," she moans, her back arching at an impossible angle.
I grunt in acknowledgment, my body responding even as my mind drifts. Since that first day in my bathroom, we've barely left the apartment. Amy discovered she loves sex, all kinds of sex, and I've been happy to oblige. Anything to forget, even for a few minutes, the crushing emptiness inside me.
She looks over her shoulder again, purple eyes narrowing. "Stop thinking about her."
"I'm not," I lie, gripping her hips harder, trying to lose myself in the sensations.
I thrust more aggressively, but Amy just moans louder, her body. My increased efforts only seem to please her more, which frustrates me further.
Suddenly, her body liquefies partially, reforming in an instant. Before I can react, she's on top of me, straddling my hips, her weight pinning me to the mattress.
"What if I did this instead?" she purrs.
Her body begins to shift before my eyes. Her hair lightens from deep purple-black to blonde but with stark black streaks running through it. Her lips darken to a gothic black, and rectangular glasses materialize on her face. The transformation is seamless, Liz's features with Amy's gothic aesthetic.
I stare up at her, breath catching in my throat. It's uncanny, the love of my life, but with an edge, a darkness that's both familiar and new.
"Look at you," she says in a deeply sultry tone, grinding slowly against me. "You've gotten even harder for me."
My hands find her hips automatically, fingers digging into flesh that yields just slightly too much to be human. "Amy, you shouldn't…"
"Shhh," she places a black-painted finger against my lips. "Don't think. Just feel."
She leans down, blonde and black hair cascading around us like a curtain, and captures my mouth in a kiss that tastes faintly of metal and something sweet I can't identify.
"This is what you want, isn't it?" she whispers against my lips. "The best of both worlds."
I should be disgusted. I should push her off and demand she stop this cruel mockery. But my body betrays me, responding eagerly to this hybrid fantasy.
"You don't have to choose, Ben," she continues, rolling her hips in a hypnotic rhythm. "I can be anyone you want. Everyone you want."
My hands slide up her sides, feeling the familiar curves of Liz's body but with Amy's unnatural smoothness. It's wrong, so wrong, but I can't stop myself.
"Tell me you want this," she demands, her voice fluctuating between Amy's otherworldly purr and Liz's familiar cadence.
I push against her hips weakly, my resolve finally returning through the haze of pleasure. "This isn't right, Amy. I need to get over her."
Amy looks down at me, her features settling into a strange hybrid state, Liz's face but with those unmistakable purple eyes. She smiles as she notices my gaze lingering on her chest.
"You like these, don't you?" she asks, arching her back slightly. Though she's wearing Liz's face, her breasts remain unchanged, the fuller, rounder shape that belongs to Amy's chosen form.
I swallow hard, fighting against my own desires. "It's not right, Amy. I need to get over her."
The words barely leave my mouth when I feel something impossible happening. Inside her, around me, her pussy begins to move with a life of its own. Not the normal contractions of muscles, but a literal spinning sensation, like being caught in some erotic washing machine. The inner walls undulate and twist in rhythmic circles, moving up and down my length without her body bouncing at all.
'She's letting it rip beyblade style on my dick…'
A strangled whimper escapes my throat as the pleasure intensifies beyond anything humanly possible. Amy's smile turns wicked, predatory, as she watches my reaction.
In one fluid motion, she captures my wrists, pinning them above my head against the mattress. Her grip is gentle but impossibly strong, like being restrained by warm steel covered in silk.
"I bet she couldn't do something like this with her cunt, could she?" Amy purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she watches me squirm beneath her.
"N-no," I gasp, my hips bucking involuntarily against the swirling vortex between her legs. "Definitely not."
Amy leans down, her lips hovering just above mine. "That's right. Because I'm better. I can be anything for you, Ben. Do anything. Feel like anything."
The spinning sensation inside her intensifies, adding a corkscrew motion that has me seeing stars. My back arches off the bed as I struggle against her grip, not to get away but simply from the overwhelming pleasure.
"Fuck, Amy, I can't…" I choke out, feeling my climax building rapidly.
"Yes, you can," she whispers, her tongue darting out to trace my lower lip. The tip splits into two prongs for just a second before rejoining. "And you will. Again and again, until you forget her completely."
I'm helpless beneath her, pinned by both her supernatural strength and the mind-bending pleasure. Her inner walls ripple in waves now, each one pulling me deeper toward release.
"Look at me," she commands, her voice suddenly hard.
I force my eyes open, meeting her gaze. As I do, her face shifts, the last traces of Liz melting away until only Amy remains, her true form staring down at me with those hypnotic purple eyes.
"Who's making you feel this way?" she asks, slowing the movements inside her just enough to keep me on the edge.
"You," I gasp, the word tearing from my throat. "You are, Amy."
Her smile widens, triumphant and hungry. "That's right. Not Liz. Me."
She releases my wrists suddenly, her hands sliding down to grip my shoulders as her movements become more frantic. The spinning inside her intensifies.
"Say my name when you come," she demands her voice a growl that seems to vibrate through my entire body.
I'm helpless to resist as pleasure explodes through me, white-hot and overwhelming. "Amy!" I cry out, my back arching off the bed. "Fuck, Amy!"
She throws her head back, her own climax rippling through her body in visible waves, her skin actually undulating like the surface of a disturbed pond. For a brief, terrifying moment, her human form wavers, the edges of her body blurring into something more primordial.
Then she collapses against my chest, her form solid again, warm and heavy. I feel her heartbeat against mine, or something that mimics a heartbeat perfectly.
"Good boy," she murmurs against my neck, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweat on my skin. "You're learning."
As we lie there in the afterglow, I stare at the ceiling fan again, counting the rotations. One, two, three... The momentary pleasure fades quickly, leaving that familiar hollow feeling in my chest.
I chuckle suddenly, the sound harsh and empty even to my own ears.
Amy props herself up on one elbow, studying my face with those unnaturally bright purple eyes. "What's funny?"
"Nothing. Just... my life is so fucked up right now." I run a hand through my sweaty hair. "Two weeks ago, I was a normal guy with normal problems. Now I'm dating a sentient slime creature who threatened to absorb me if I try to kill myself again."
Instead of being offended, Amy's face lights up with delight. "That's progress! You're acknowledging our relationship!"
Before I can respond, her body begins to liquefy against mine. I feel a cool, thin layer of purple slime spreading across my chest, arms, and legs. It's oddly soothing like being covered in a living, breathing sheet of silk.
"What are you doing?" I ask, too tired to be alarmed.
"Cleaning you," she murmurs, her voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. I feel a gentle suction against my skin as she absorbs the sweat from my body. "You taste so good after sex. All those hormones and salt."
The sensation is strange but not unpleasant. When she's finished, my skin feels cool and refreshed, like I've just stepped out of a shower.
Amy reforms beside me, her face hovering above mine with an expression of such naked adoration that it makes my chest ache.
"You know what you deserve?" she asks, her voice soft and tender.
"What?" I reply, genuinely curious despite myself.
"Good girlfriends take their men out on dates." She leans down and presses her lips against mine in a surprisingly chaste kiss. "Let me take you out, darling. Show you a nice dinner."
The offer catches me off guard. We haven't left the apartment since we got here. Part of me has been afraid of what might happen if we venture out in public.
"Sure," I say, surprising myself with how easily I agree. "Where do you want to go?"
Amy makes a Grinch-like smile. "Oh, I think you'll love it."