Futa Concoction -ch.4 P1- By Faust Seiker -

The prose here is sparse, almost clinical—mimicking the detached observation of Dr. Veyle’s notes. Alex touches their face, their chest, their hips. Each tactile confirmation is met not with shock, but with a hollow, exhausted acceptance. “This is my body now,” they think, but the line carries no ownership. It reads as a hostage’s concession.

In one key scene, Veyle asks Alex to rate their “current body satisfaction” on a scale of 1 to 10. Alex, trembling, says “2.” Veyle nods, makes a note, and asks if they’d like to proceed to the next phase of the trial for an additional stipend. The transactional framing of Alex’s body—as a dataset, a project, a line item—is chilling precisely because it feels real. Seiker has clearly done his homework on the ethics of paid clinical trials, and he weaponizes that knowledge. Part 1 of Chapter 4 introduces a new test subject: Riley , a nonbinary participant who sought out the concoction voluntarily, with full knowledge of its effects. Riley is cheerful, confident, and utterly at ease with their changing form. They joke with Veyle. They ask detailed questions about androgen receptors. They treat the transformation as a customization menu. Futa Concoction -Ch.4 P1- By Faust Seiker

Color is used sparingly, almost punishingly. The concoction itself is a sickly amber. Alex’s recurring nosebleeds are a violent, almost offensive red against the lab’s grayscale. Riley’s introduction brings a burst of warm tones—yellows, soft oranges—which slowly drain as the chapter progresses. By the final page, even Riley is rendered in cold blues. Part 1 of Chapter 4 ends on a quiet, devastating note. Alex, alone in their assigned dormitory, receives a text message from an unknown number: “Phase 2 starts tomorrow. Bring nothing.” The prose here is sparse, almost clinical—mimicking the

Have you read Chapter 4, Part 1? What do you think Riley is hiding? Let me know in the comments. Each tactile confirmation is met not with shock,