Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

016 Tongue pt2

The transformation was far more than physical—an unraveling of flesh, an unfurling of something darker and deeper. Ernesh's form shifted like liquid, his slender, almost delicate body twisting in unnatural grace as it became something new—something exquisitely unnatural. His waist, impossibly tiny, cinched in as though shaped by some cruel and divine hand, while his hips flared in a way that would make any human gaze falter. Beneath his skin, dark veins of gold and green traced intricate, almost serpentine patterns, flickering with the last remnants of magic that had been poured into him.

He lay on the bed, eyes wide and dark—black as the void, pupils dilated and glinting in the dim, flickering candlelight. His skin was like porcelain, smooth and cold, almost unreal to the touch. Tom could feel the pulse of power coursing through him, the magic lingering in every inch of Ernesh's changed form. His mouth parted slightly, blood staining his chin, a faint but lingering reminder of the toll the transformation had taken.

Ernesh's body trembled beneath Tom's touch, a quiet shiver of pleasure that seemed to crawl down his spine. The air was thick with the promise of more—of complete surrender, of perfect devotion. The words that spilled from his lips were drenched in that same devotion, laced with the kind of helplessness that Tom craved.

"I am yours," Ernesh whispered, his voice a low, trembling thing that bordered on a hiss as his tongue flickered out—a serpentine flick of dark pleasure. His breath caught in his throat, body reacting involuntarily, as if to the very command of his existence. "I'll be everything you desire."

Tom's smirk deepened, his fingers tracing the curve of Ernesh's jaw down to his slender neck, feeling the pulse race faster with each passing second. His eyes lingered on the curve of Ernesh's body, the way his bubble-shaped butt contrasted sharply with his impossibly small waist, each curve a thing of twisted beauty that only existed because Tom had willed it into being.

"Perfect," Tom purred, leaning close enough for their breaths to mingle. "You're becoming exactly what I need."

Ernesh's hands clutched the sheets tighter, his chest rising and falling in shallow, erratic breaths, a faint aftershock of the transformation still rippling through his body. It was as though his entire being had been set alight by the power of Tom's will. A soft, strangled moan escaped Ernesh's lips, his body writhing in pleasure, consumed by the strange euphoria of his own metamorphosis.

Tom's fingers gently traced the line of Ernesh's lips, smearing the blood there with a deliberate, slow motion. The sight of his doll—so utterly pliant, so utterly perfect—sent a thrill through Tom, his heart racing with a dark satisfaction.

"Rest now," Tom commanded softly, a final flicker of control in his voice. "You'll need it for what's to come."

As Ernesh's eyes fluttered shut, still trembling, still lost in the aftershock of his transformation, Tom lingered, watching him with an almost predatory gaze. The journey had only just begun, and there was still so much more to unfold.

The morning light filtered into the room with an almost unnatural softness, casting long, eerie shadows across the walls. The air was thick with something oppressive, as if the very space around them were alive with anticipation. Tom woke slowly, his eyes flicking open, and there he was—Ernesh, lying beside him, still and delicate as ever. His porcelain skin, now even more flawless after the transformation, seemed to glow with an unnatural sheen, the gold and green lines beneath the surface pulsing faintly in the dim light.

Every inch of Ernesh's body was a masterpiece of submission, crafted for Tom's pleasure. His eyes, black and endless, stared back at Tom with a look of total devotion, a need that made Tom's pulse quicken. There was something about the boy's presence that was intoxicating, something so deeply unsettling that Tom couldn't help but stare, unable to look away. It wasn't just love he felt for Ernesh anymore. No, it was something darker, something primal, something that pulled at the very fabric of his being.