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I stumble forward on unsteady legs, the world around me a nauseating blur of neon lights and humid, stinking air that clings to my skin like a second layer of filth, one moment I’d been… somewhere else, somewhere normal, and the next I was here dumped into this body that isn’t mine, this cyberpunk hellhole that reeks of sex and rot.     My hands come up almost automatically, pressing against the absurd, heavy weight of my new chest. The technological latex bodysuit hugs every exaggerated curve like liquid black oil, gleaming under the streetlights. It feels alive somehow, warm and slightly slick against my skin, responding to my thoughts in ways I don’t yet understand. It can morph, I somehow know. Change into anything, even take control if I let it, right now it isn’t helping me at all.

The suit gives my massive tits zero support, they bounce and flop heavily with every single step, the deep cleavage barely contained by the half-open zipper that runs from my throat all the way down between my legs. The material is stretched obscenely tight across my puffy, swollen pussy, molding itself into a thick, obvious camel toe that juts out and rubs against itself with every movement, I can feel the soft outer lips being forced apart by the pressure, the latex digging into the slit and making me hyper-aware of every breeze, every droplet of moisture in the air. My wide hips sway, thick thighs brushing together with wet-sounding friction, the suit squeaking softly. High-heeled sandals click against the filthy pavement, orange hair sticking to the back of my neck in the oppressive heat.

The streets are a nightmare. Pregnant women waddle past in various states of undress, bellies stretched tight and leaking, some of them already being bent over by machines that look more like walking sex toys than robots. Cum puddles of every color and consistency cover the ground in sticky, reeking lakes—some still warm, some crusted over with pubes and dirt. There are almost no real men in sight. Instead the sidewalks swarm with androids, cyborgs, and grotesque multi-limbed machines whose sole purpose seems to be finding any female body and filling it. Some look almost human. Others are pure nightmare fuel: towering frames with extra legs, thick synthetic cocks already dripping, specialized appendages designed to pin a woman down and keep her there until she’s claimed. The worst part is the smell. Thick, cheesy, fermented. Synthetic smegma oozes from many of them in yellowish globs, deliberately engineered to degrade whoever they catch. I bring one hand up and wave it in front of my face, nose wrinkling hard.

“This is so stupid…”

My own voice sounds higher, softer, almost breathy. I keep walking because standing still feels dangerous. Then I notice the machine. It sits against a graffiti-covered wall, brightly lit and cheerful in the middle of all this filth, a glowing panel advertising FREE DRINKS. My throat is dry. My new body feels overheated and thirsty. Curiosity overrides caution. I step closer, heels clicking, tits still bouncing freely, and grab one of the bottles from the dispenser. The liquid inside is a thick, opaque yellowish sludge that barely moves when I tilt it.

I bring the opening to my lips and tip it back.

The first “drink” doesn’t pour so much as sludge out with a loud, wet SQUELCH. It hits my tongue like fermented cheese left in the sun for a week—chunky, sour, overwhelmingly rank. My eyes water instantly. I have to chew. Actually chew. Thick clumps of the stuff force my jaw to work as I try to swallow.

CHEW. CHEW.

Gulp.

A massive, involuntary BUUUURP forces its way up my throat, carrying the same foul taste back into my mouth. My cheeks burn with humiliation even as some idiotic part of this body seems to want more. I grab a second bottle. Then a third. Each one is the same: dense, pube-flecked sludge that requires constant chewing, tears streaming down my face from the smell while I force it down. By the time the third bottle is empty I’ve swallowed what feels like liters of the stuff. My stomach gurgles wetly. Another loud belch escapes me.

“Fuck… that was some good cheese I guess… Some good bottle cheese...wait that doest make sense!”

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, still chewing residual globs stuck between my teeth, and finally look at the side of the machine. The printed text is clear and cheerful:

'Fermented Hobo Sperm!!

With extra Pubes, fermented to be as thick and sludgy as possible!

For stupid whores only!'

My jaw drops open. Literally hangs there, tongue still coated in the thick yellowish residue, lips shiny and parted in pure pornstar shock, pubes stuck on my teeth, three liters of pure hobo sperm sit heavy in my gut while the latex suit continues to display every humiliating detail of this body, floppy, unsupported tits, deep camel toe, the whole package to anyone or anything that happens to look my way on this filthy street.

Looking for someone to be my DM, the setting is just an excuse to have nasty sex scenes on the 'fights', as an DM i expect you to give me my objectives, the special latex suit is there for that! Being able to project holographic screens like an video game menu to explain things, my character is supposed to be an not very smart person who got isekaid into this world, always finding herself in dumb pornographic situations with the disgusting robots and beings from this world. 

Kinks: Rough sex, domination, smegma, gross cum, snot, pregnancy acceleration, pregnancy, size difference, femboys, futas, cumflation, hentai logic, instant loss, sweat, pubes, lactation, hypnosis, transformation, humiliation, body markings, tattoos, monsters, oviposition. 

(F4GM) Isekaid into an Cyberpunk Sex Empire as an Volupmous Whorw!!!