Helena dressed herself and wiped all that sticky semen from the girl. She could feel a lot of it churning in her guts heavy, warm, thick, and obscene...
This was the power of Futanari; they were one of the three fertility goddesses. Humans whose genes had been corrected to create beings that rape their enemies. Their alluring feminine form was just a trap. The poor creature they rape, they force pregnancy upon it its body's cells specialize themselves, creating a ready womb for conception, and pump female hormones into its body, gradually transforming it into a female even if it was male, and also making even females more beautiful. Helena said:
"Don't worry; I didn't intend to ruin your body and make you pregnant."
The girl felt relieved; she didn't know where that baby would come out from. Pregnancy in this world was a reflection of the parents' intentions any overwhelming desire would cause the child's birth, and thus, no need for contraceptives.
The girl dressed as well. Her father, upon hearing their footsteps, fled from the door.
Helena asked the girl as they were on their way back:
"What's your name?"
"Layla, and you, madam?"
"Helena."
The workers' neighborhoods and the poor classes thrived with prostitution the oldest profession ever. Their streets resembled mazes of identical houses shared by multiple families. Here, there was no place for privacy. In many streets, laundry covered the roadside in front of passersby. As for the beggars, they had no shame. Helena's clean appearance drew their eyes; every time she told one she had no money, another beggar appeared, insisting she give him some, using excuses like a severed limb or his poverty.
And if she didn't give, the beggar would throw away all morals and curse her under his breath. Helena said angrily:
"You girl, where are you taking me? The beggars are increasing in number."
"I'm sorry; I'm trying to take you via the shortcut."
"You fool."
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a masked gang appeared, blocking the intersection:
"Hey, you, stop right there."
The sight of gangs was common in this place. One person tried to pass, only for a gang member to strike his neck with a rusty cleaver, killing him.
The scene of blood made everyone flee, including Helena and her companion. The gang chased them, then unexpectedly, one gang member struck Layla with an icy attack that exploded her body into shards frozen in the air. With a cold shockwave, the ground froze, and everything it touched. Helena felt the cold lick and jumped into the air, avoiding the freeze.
The attackers smashed everyone whose body froze it seemed they weren't targeting Helena alone but exterminating every eyewitness.
The attackers failed to match Helena's speed she was an advanced upgrade but they compensated with cheating supernatural abilities. One attacker jumped over ten meters into the air, forming several metal spikes that destroyed people and houses, trying to block her path, but she maneuvered around all that.
While she was distracted by him, someone pounced on her from the side, and the rest grabbed her. They injected her with a sedative and let her go so she would lose consciousness gradually.
A long time passed before Helena gradually regained consciousness, tied to a table in a white, empty place lit by modern fluorescent lights. It looked more like a lab or a modern morgue than something belonging to what seemed like the Victorian era. The place smelled like ethanol.
Mark checked himself... He still had breasts; he hadn't woken up or reincarnated again.
The place was empty. Helena tried to free herself and indeed... She felt the leather straps stretching. She tried with all her strength until she freed her right hand. The sound of the strap tearing was loud.
She gritted her teeth and made sure no one was coming, then freed her left, her torso, and her legs...
She noticed she no longer had that ring that encrypted the aura. She sneaked quietly, knowing that the sixth sense could feel her easily, but dying while trying to escape was better than dying while staying and waiting for forgiveness for freeing yourself without permission.
She opened the lab door quietly, looked both ways to make sure no one was there. The corridors literally looked like empty hospital hallways...
She didn't know which way to take, so she remembered Mark's consciousness Kurapika's words: If you're lost at a crossroads, take the right path. That's what she did... Another crossroads, trying not to go back, she took the left... Another crossroads, but she heard talking from the right, so she quickly took the left...
She heard footsteps coming from the sound source. She quickened her pace... They were getting close to seeing her. She started running on her tiptoes and entered a dark window, then under the table's shadow.
The speakers passed and closed the window Helena had entered from outside, and she heard them laughing eerily.
Suddenly, the lights turned on, illuminating that chessboard floor, and a delicious voice of an adult woman spoke:
"We led you here just for that; come out from under the table, you clever one."
Helena insisted on staying:
"Ahem... Come out, Mark, or I'll kill you."
The table started shaking, so Helena came out, surrendering...
And looked toward the one who spoke to her... Helena's heart jumped with joy, as if her veins were refreshed with cool water on a summer day. Helena's breath faltered from her beauty.
Breasts the size of blimps, an hourglass figure, smooth black hair, golden eyes the pinnacle of divine creation. Beauty that makes an atheist believe in a creator. This woman was the Platonic ideal of beauty itself, barely contained by her black dress. The air around her was scented with beautiful lavender. Beauty and ecstasy of sensation that made Helena's cock, despite the tension, awaken.
When Helena stood straight, she realized she wasn't an ordinary woman her height probably exceeded three meters in a terrifying way. Helena, despite her own height, was like her little daughter. A literally divine height, like her form.
"Come, sit before your creator."