The rustling sound of rich fabric filled the air chaotically, and Andrea’s head spun trying to understand how this situation had come about.

Before she knew it, her half-n*ked body lay atop a tangle of clothes, and long fingers had found their way inside her silk panties that barely held their position.

“Gillian, let’s talk for a moment…”

Though Andrea herself wasn’t sure if she truly meant to stop him, Gillian above her seemed to half-listen, half-ignore her words.

“Ah, ah…”

When he moved his fingers back and forth, the wet squelching sounds were utterly explicit.

Then Gillian tugged at Andrea’s already loosened corset, causing her br*asts to spring free with a slight rebound. The way he looked at the white, plump flesh resembled someone eyeing freshly baked bread straight from the oven.

“Your br*asts really are adorable.”

He then grabbed her br*ast hard enough for his fingertips to sink in and swallowed her n*pple in one gulp.

“Mmph…!”

Just from that slight touch, Andrea felt her resistance melting away, and she already sensed she might climax soon.

‘I need to ask how this happened… I need to ask…’

Even while thinking this, she could only tremble as he caressed her from above and below.

Gillian’s glossy black hair flowed down over Andrea’s chin. Andrea seemed intoxicated by the subtle fragrance emanating from it, her body going limp.

In that state, as the dress she was clutching gradually slipped down, what appeared was the strange sleeveless top that Priscilla—no, Gillian—had been wearing underneath the dress. 

She found it odd that it wasn’t a corset, vaguely puzzled, when Gillian grabbed it from below and pulled it off over his head like a tunic. The chest that had possessed quite impressive volume went with that strange garment, revealing a firm male torso.

Andrea’s eyes nearly popped out, like she’d witnessed actual magic transforming a real woman into a man.

She couldn’t understand at all why Gillian had emerged after shedding Priscilla’s outer skin.

Meanwhile, Gillian grabbed one of her legs and pushed her panties aside. She didn’t even have time to make embarrassed sounds.

“Ah…!”

A large c*ck plunged in all at once, making her toes curl tight inside her glossy lace stockings. Then they stretched out stiff enough to cramp before trembling helplessly.

The way her feet looked, seemingly as confused and helpless as Andrea herself, was so adorable he couldn’t bear it. So he lifted her foot and sucked on it through the stocking, quickly soaking the fabric with his saliva.

“You’re adorable, Andrea.”

Andrea thought her face would soon burn up rather than just flush.

Priscilla was licking her toes. That noble and dignified Priscilla was caressing her toes provocatively with a tongue that had turned red and looked particularly lewd. The face she’d never imagined could be colored by desire now radiated such a sinful atmosphere that just looking felt like committing a crime.

Gillian began moving without releasing her foot, seemingly wanting to show her even more of this side of himself.

He stirred her insides relentlessly and asked, “How does it feel doing this with Priscilla?”

“It’s not… Pris… cilla…!”

Andrea barely managed to get out one syllable with each thrust.

“Why are you… in this… form…”

Just when she was finally about to ask with difficulty, Gillian thrust in forcefully. Andrea threw back her head and burst into moans. A low chuckle echoed from above.

“It seems like you’re about to come without me even moving much now.”

“No, that’s not…”

“It’s not?”

Even his mischievous streak was definitely Gillian’s. Priscilla would never torment someone this way.

When Gillian penetrated again, her br*asts bounced and swayed. Seemingly enjoying the sight, he deliberately moved his hips more roughly.

“Ah, ha, Gilli, Gillian…!”

As the rhythm continued, Andrea gradually spread her legs wider herself, making room for Gillian to enter.

She already melted like butter on hot bread whenever Gillian touched her, but now her mind was in such dreamlike confusion that she couldn’t collect herself at all. 

The face still wearing makeup was Priscilla’s, but the broad, flat chest was Gillian’s; the dress draped around her waist belonged to Priscilla, but the large thing mercilessly stirring her insides below was Gillian’s—a bizarre situation where dream and reality seemed mixed together.

The origin of this entire ordeal could be traced back to that day.