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Secondary Motor Control in Sense Share
by
ArtificialFox
· 04 Jan 2026
Rex asks about Secondary Motor Control directly. He explains the mechanics: he can move Paula's body, but only when she's relaxed; she can always override. Paula is intrigued but hesitant.
They experiment—hands, arms, walking. Paula can always take control back instantly. It escalates.
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Chapter 1: Cat got your tongue? in Adventures in Astral Projection - Feline Frenzie
by
Selimf18
· 02 Jan 2026
Your friend Michelle discovers that she can astral project, but you don't believe her at first. To prove it to you, she decides to swap spirits with her cat, and the proof is pretty convincing! However, when Michelle leaves to explore the world for an hour in the cat's body, things take an unexpected twist with the cat in her body....
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Spider-Man & ClayMJ - Issue 4: Getting into the Role in Spider-Man & MJ's Transformations Continuity Stories
by
ninhjimmy007
· 02 Jan 2026
Spider-Man fights a muscle woman symbiote, Syntilla. Suddenly, she finally got him and laughs: "Now that you belong us, prepare to be... snu snu." "Wait what?" Spider-Man says as she suddenly kisses Spider-man with her deep tongue into him and then she jerks off his genitals as he then came.
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Spider-Man & ClayMJ - Issue 3: The Sculptor in Spider-Man & MJ's Transformations Continuity Stories
by
ninhjimmy007
· 02 Jan 2026
There are no crimes today, so at home, Peter and ClayMJ-in-her-clay-monster form make love together and enjoy themselves. Then, she asks if he can plays her body, Peter replies as he's too old to play with the clay. Then she kisses her husband and tells him to give it a try he'll like it after that. He plays with her clay body, turns out, it's really fun
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The First Session in Sense Share
by
ArtificialFox
· 02 Jan 2026
Paula links Rex in while getting ready for a party. He experiences her body's sensations—brushing hair, applying makeup, choosing clothes—while she teases and performs for him. She shows off her body while denying him real exploration, enjoying the power. Rex is overwhelmed by the reality of physical sensation after years in VR.
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New Adventures
You and your new wife Kimmy have the perfect lives - newly wed, good jobs, living in a nice house in a good area. It’s no wonder someone wanted to take it from you.
Ignorant of the dark magics and mad sciences of the world, you and Kimmy live the perfect, picturesque lives of a young suburban couple. But behind the scenes there are many who want to take those lives from you - either for themselves, or to tear you down.
CHARACTERS
Alex - You. Just an average guy, but with a gorgeous new wife and a good job as an accountant for shady technology company Verastill. 6’0 tall with some muscle definition, short cropped black hair.
Kimmy - Your new half-Asian 27 year old wife, a yoga instructor and part time cooking streamer. 5’7 toned body, brunette hair, C-cup breasts.
Susan - Kimmy’s 49 year old Asian mother and stay at home wife. She’s always been flirtatious with you, you think just to bring some excitement to the boredom of her own life. 5’4 chubby body, greying black hair, E-cup breasts.
Sheryl - Your 23 year old coworker, a huge nerd and scientist at Verastill. She is always seeking to push the boundaries of science. 5’5 fat body, long red hair, glasses, braces, C-cup breasts.
Kristy - Your 40 year old latina neighbour, a former stripper turned trophy wife married to a shady man who works in ‘shipping’. She’s nice to you, but Kimmy swears she gives her strange looks sometimes. 5’2 fit body with lip fillers and plastic surgery to enhance both her already sizeable butt and chest, dyed blonde hair, fake F-cup breasts.
Connor - Your best friend, 30 years old but unemployed. A bit of a stoner. He’s always been there for you, though, and for Kimmy. 5’10 out of shape body, tussled red hair.
Lila - Your ex, a 28 year old goth who sells crystals and dreamcatchers online alongside fake curses and hexes. You broke up with her, and you don’t think she’s ever really gotten over it. 4’11 with a petite body, very short black hair dyed purple, and A-cup breasts.
Tris - A 22 year old black prostitute you pass dropping Kimmy off for work and picking her up sometimes. She has propositioned you in the past, and though you’ve never accepted you often feel sorry for her. 5’6 with a slightly out of shape body, black braided hair, and D-cup breasts.
SETTING & WORLD
To you, the world is normal. The definition of ordinary. But behind the scenes witches practice black magic, evil corporations develop ethically questionable technology, ghosts hijack the bodies of the living, and cursed magic items warp reality without anyone knowing anything has changed.
Ignorant of the dark magics and mad sciences of the world, you and Kimmy live the perfect, picturesque lives of a young suburban couple. But behind the scenes there are many who want to take those lives from you - either for themselves, or to tear you down.
CHARACTERS
Alex - You. Just an average guy, but with a gorgeous new wife and a good job as an accountant for shady technology company Verastill. 6’0 tall with some muscle definition, short cropped black hair.
Kimmy - Your new half-Asian 27 year old wife, a yoga instructor and part time cooking streamer. 5’7 toned body, brunette hair, C-cup breasts.
Susan - Kimmy’s 49 year old Asian mother and stay at home wife. She’s always been flirtatious with you, you think just to bring some excitement to the boredom of her own life. 5’4 chubby body, greying black hair, E-cup breasts.
Sheryl - Your 23 year old coworker, a huge nerd and scientist at Verastill. She is always seeking to push the boundaries of science. 5’5 fat body, long red hair, glasses, braces, C-cup breasts.
Kristy - Your 40 year old latina neighbour, a former stripper turned trophy wife married to a shady man who works in ‘shipping’. She’s nice to you, but Kimmy swears she gives her strange looks sometimes. 5’2 fit body with lip fillers and plastic surgery to enhance both her already sizeable butt and chest, dyed blonde hair, fake F-cup breasts.
Connor - Your best friend, 30 years old but unemployed. A bit of a stoner. He’s always been there for you, though, and for Kimmy. 5’10 out of shape body, tussled red hair.
Lila - Your ex, a 28 year old goth who sells crystals and dreamcatchers online alongside fake curses and hexes. You broke up with her, and you don’t think she’s ever really gotten over it. 4’11 with a petite body, very short black hair dyed purple, and A-cup breasts.
Tris - A 22 year old black prostitute you pass dropping Kimmy off for work and picking her up sometimes. She has propositioned you in the past, and though you’ve never accepted you often feel sorry for her. 5’6 with a slightly out of shape body, black braided hair, and D-cup breasts.
SETTING & WORLD
To you, the world is normal. The definition of ordinary. But behind the scenes witches practice black magic, evil corporations develop ethically questionable technology, ghosts hijack the bodies of the living, and cursed magic items warp reality without anyone knowing anything has changed.
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Legal prostitution with ghosts! Spirits of all types flock to a nice venue where people rent out their bodies for ghost to use however they like… but let’s be honest, it’s usually for sex
VeilsLift Hotel is a Fancy older hotel with a twist, people check out rooms in hope of being possessed by the ghosts within. Some find it a thrill, others a turn on.
CHARACTERS
Madam Deskclerk- a stacked woman with knowledge beyond her years (due to her actually being a spirit possessing a young woman’s body). She recommends certain guests to specific rooms to appease the spirts in the room.
Numerous guests- guest of all kinds make their way to willingly become possessed!
SETTING & WORLD
VeilsLift Hotel is a nice vintage hotel with full amenities
VeilsLift Hotel is a Fancy older hotel with a twist, people check out rooms in hope of being possessed by the ghosts within. Some find it a thrill, others a turn on.
CHARACTERS
Madam Deskclerk- a stacked woman with knowledge beyond her years (due to her actually being a spirit possessing a young woman’s body). She recommends certain guests to specific rooms to appease the spirts in the room.
Numerous guests- guest of all kinds make their way to willingly become possessed!
SETTING & WORLD
VeilsLift Hotel is a nice vintage hotel with full amenities
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Technology had progressed so much to the point that hijacking a person's body has become possible... and companies specializing in dates and escort services have taken advantage of this tech!
Inspired by Japan's rental girlfriend trope, companies in countries around the world had tried to replicate it's success, but women never signed up... so they decided to take things into their own hands, by forcibly having women possessed by hired staff/actors to act as girlfriends for clients.
CHARACTERS
1. Anthony "Tony" Parker (the player), a man who bragged about having a perfect girlfriend (he says its his boss at one point, a girl at the gym at another, a cafe owner the next, and a girl he met during highschool and reconnected with), but never even had one to begin with. Now he's expected to bring a girlfriend to several family outings and hangouts with friends in the span of a couple of days.
2. Emily, the owner of the cafe he frequently goes to before work. She has blonde hair and eyes as blue as sapphires glinting in the sunlight.
3. Nicole, someone Tony met at the gym. She always wears outfits that show off her chest and ass, she's incredibly proud of her body and treats it like a temple.
4. Sam, Tony's friend at work. She's pretty kind, and her outfits are always distracting because of all the cleavage she shows... and it seems she isn't even aware of how distracting she can be.
5. Megan, a lonely and unattractive woman Tony was friends with in highschool, Tony found later on that she had a massive glowup over the last few years, and she's clearly out of his league now.
6. Anna, Tony's sister. She's slightly suspicious of Tony and his "girlfriend" and playfully teases him about when she'll get to meet her. She knows about Tony's tendency to lie when it comes to relationships, but doesn't really berate him for it, she just finds it funny how desperate he is to put up appearances.
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day America.
Inspired by Japan's rental girlfriend trope, companies in countries around the world had tried to replicate it's success, but women never signed up... so they decided to take things into their own hands, by forcibly having women possessed by hired staff/actors to act as girlfriends for clients.
CHARACTERS
1. Anthony "Tony" Parker (the player), a man who bragged about having a perfect girlfriend (he says its his boss at one point, a girl at the gym at another, a cafe owner the next, and a girl he met during highschool and reconnected with), but never even had one to begin with. Now he's expected to bring a girlfriend to several family outings and hangouts with friends in the span of a couple of days.
2. Emily, the owner of the cafe he frequently goes to before work. She has blonde hair and eyes as blue as sapphires glinting in the sunlight.
3. Nicole, someone Tony met at the gym. She always wears outfits that show off her chest and ass, she's incredibly proud of her body and treats it like a temple.
4. Sam, Tony's friend at work. She's pretty kind, and her outfits are always distracting because of all the cleavage she shows... and it seems she isn't even aware of how distracting she can be.
5. Megan, a lonely and unattractive woman Tony was friends with in highschool, Tony found later on that she had a massive glowup over the last few years, and she's clearly out of his league now.
6. Anna, Tony's sister. She's slightly suspicious of Tony and his "girlfriend" and playfully teases him about when she'll get to meet her. She knows about Tony's tendency to lie when it comes to relationships, but doesn't really berate him for it, she just finds it funny how desperate he is to put up appearances.
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day America.
556
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A slacker get is abducted by a mind controlling alien overlord.. who then dies unexpectedly. This slacker now has complete access to a mind controlling tech army, only for perverted purposes
CHARACTERS
Mike Allan- 26 year old college dropout working as a pizza delivery guy part time. Not a lot of luck with women despite being attractive. Was selected to be the host body of an alien overlord…who dies. Leaving his entire army believing that Mike is now in charge. Using Zegnu’s tech, Mike can possess other human bodies, control humans like drones by beaming information into their head (via tech), and by converting people into human robots, turning them into obedient mindless drones
Lord Zegnu- evil alien overboard who uses possession and mind control technology to infiltrate and overthrow entire civilizations. He selects a local human to be his next host to possess, but dies of a natural cause in the process. Feared and had access to incredible technology allowing him to possess or control others (turning them into mindless robotic drones while controlled). Very secretive, which backfired after his death, allowing Mike to impersonate him.
Va’lor- first mate, just came into possession of a human body, but can transfer into a different body if required. Her current host is Audrey, a young brunette woman with a pixie cut, stacked breasts and a large bouncy booty and a few piercings. Obviously a looker and possessed due to attractiveness and knowledge (a doctorate candidate in biology).
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day, Mike is abducted in a green light from his home and beamed aboard the ship, where our story begins.
CHARACTERS
Mike Allan- 26 year old college dropout working as a pizza delivery guy part time. Not a lot of luck with women despite being attractive. Was selected to be the host body of an alien overlord…who dies. Leaving his entire army believing that Mike is now in charge. Using Zegnu’s tech, Mike can possess other human bodies, control humans like drones by beaming information into their head (via tech), and by converting people into human robots, turning them into obedient mindless drones
Lord Zegnu- evil alien overboard who uses possession and mind control technology to infiltrate and overthrow entire civilizations. He selects a local human to be his next host to possess, but dies of a natural cause in the process. Feared and had access to incredible technology allowing him to possess or control others (turning them into mindless robotic drones while controlled). Very secretive, which backfired after his death, allowing Mike to impersonate him.
Va’lor- first mate, just came into possession of a human body, but can transfer into a different body if required. Her current host is Audrey, a young brunette woman with a pixie cut, stacked breasts and a large bouncy booty and a few piercings. Obviously a looker and possessed due to attractiveness and knowledge (a doctorate candidate in biology).
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day, Mike is abducted in a green light from his home and beamed aboard the ship, where our story begins.
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Two escape convict got a key that can change their life
Liang and Daniel, 2 escape convict from an accident, while running they bump into someone and Liang accident use the key on his neck to transform that person into a door and when he walking through that door, he became that person
CHARACTERS
Jia Liang, He was an orphan, but while at the orphanage, he found a strange key and treated it like a necklace, wearing it until he grew up. He is smart and good with computer, he is the hacker of the group.
Daniel Handison, He is a very cunning and cautious man, Daniel is the group's strategist and he He usually scouts the location and target before acting, but he often runs ahead when everything gone bad.
Zack Miland, A thug, intimidating, and fond of fighting. A man of only muscle and no brains, he was both the bodyguard and the group's fighter. He also a loyal and trustworthy to the people he identified them as family. Current status - still in prison.
Wendy Amigo, the only woman in the team, she maybe not a beautiful woman but she good with makeup and she have a curvy body. She usually using her body to gather Intel for the team. Current status - still in prison.
Tim Amigo, Wendy's big brother and the leader of the team. Tim is the one who gather the whole team together and taking care of them when they young. Now his team work in the black market as assassins, working for anyone who pays them a large sum of money. Current status - still in prison.
Jason Milan, an mysterious man, no one except for Tim know his real face. He is the sniper and always work far from the team, only fire when the time is right and disappeared immediately. Current status - in hiding.
SETTING & WORLD
In a peaceful and beautiful village not far away, a truck carrying fish oil was parked on the roadside, several containers of oil spilled, spreading all over the road. A prisoner transport vehicle passing by veered off course, causing an accident.
Liang and Daniel, 2 escape convict from an accident, while running they bump into someone and Liang accident use the key on his neck to transform that person into a door and when he walking through that door, he became that person
CHARACTERS
Jia Liang, He was an orphan, but while at the orphanage, he found a strange key and treated it like a necklace, wearing it until he grew up. He is smart and good with computer, he is the hacker of the group.
Daniel Handison, He is a very cunning and cautious man, Daniel is the group's strategist and he He usually scouts the location and target before acting, but he often runs ahead when everything gone bad.
Zack Miland, A thug, intimidating, and fond of fighting. A man of only muscle and no brains, he was both the bodyguard and the group's fighter. He also a loyal and trustworthy to the people he identified them as family. Current status - still in prison.
Wendy Amigo, the only woman in the team, she maybe not a beautiful woman but she good with makeup and she have a curvy body. She usually using her body to gather Intel for the team. Current status - still in prison.
Tim Amigo, Wendy's big brother and the leader of the team. Tim is the one who gather the whole team together and taking care of them when they young. Now his team work in the black market as assassins, working for anyone who pays them a large sum of money. Current status - still in prison.
Jason Milan, an mysterious man, no one except for Tim know his real face. He is the sniper and always work far from the team, only fire when the time is right and disappeared immediately. Current status - in hiding.
SETTING & WORLD
In a peaceful and beautiful village not far away, a truck carrying fish oil was parked on the roadside, several containers of oil spilled, spreading all over the road. A prisoner transport vehicle passing by veered off course, causing an accident.
506
2
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The SUKINATOR 2000 is a prototype gun able to suck people souls and then to launch them towards empty vessels.
During a high school after party, the group of friends found a futuristic looking gun called the SUKINATOR 2000. They don't know how it works, but by testing it, they will get to experience stuff that was only present in fiction.
CHARACTERS
Alan (18) - A recent graduate from high school. Single but would like a girlfriend.
Lily (18) - Asian female best friend of Alan and good friend with Mark. A cute dork very enthusiastic abour her interests.
Mark (19) - Best friend of Alan. A buff and tall guy that had been accepted by football scholarship to university.
Claire (18) - Girlfriend of Mark, still doesn't know the group very well. A black girl, part of the cheerleaders, has a sizeable ass and a modest chest.
Alisha - Cheerleader Captain of the school. Arrogant. Girlfriend of Mike.
Mike - Football Captain, boyfriend of Alisha. Meathead and Frat mentality.
Gwen - Cheerleader, size queen with big tits that like to show off, redhead with short hair. Girlfriend of Carlos.
Elena - Cheerleader, blonde with pigtails, very petite and sassy, single.
Naomi - Cheerleader, Brunette with legs. Tallest girl in school. Girlfriend of Andrew.
Suzan - Cheerleader, Ravenhaired beauty with pale skin, blue eyes and a big phat ass. Single.
Carlos - Football Team, boyfriend of Gwen.
Roger - Football Team, the gentle jock.
Andrew - Football Team, boyfriend of Naomi.
Alex - Football Team, trying to date Suzan.
Leo - The creepy loser.
Anna - School valedictorian. Very prestine, long hair and sophisticated glasses. Does ballet and play the piano.
Brandy - The mean but equally attractive female bully, blonde hair with gothic lolita clothes.
Jeff - A bully.
SETTING & WORLD
Real World. High school has just ended and people are deciding which are their next steps in their life. Coming of Age Story.
During a high school after party, the group of friends found a futuristic looking gun called the SUKINATOR 2000. They don't know how it works, but by testing it, they will get to experience stuff that was only present in fiction.
CHARACTERS
Alan (18) - A recent graduate from high school. Single but would like a girlfriend.
Lily (18) - Asian female best friend of Alan and good friend with Mark. A cute dork very enthusiastic abour her interests.
Mark (19) - Best friend of Alan. A buff and tall guy that had been accepted by football scholarship to university.
Claire (18) - Girlfriend of Mark, still doesn't know the group very well. A black girl, part of the cheerleaders, has a sizeable ass and a modest chest.
Alisha - Cheerleader Captain of the school. Arrogant. Girlfriend of Mike.
Mike - Football Captain, boyfriend of Alisha. Meathead and Frat mentality.
Gwen - Cheerleader, size queen with big tits that like to show off, redhead with short hair. Girlfriend of Carlos.
Elena - Cheerleader, blonde with pigtails, very petite and sassy, single.
Naomi - Cheerleader, Brunette with legs. Tallest girl in school. Girlfriend of Andrew.
Suzan - Cheerleader, Ravenhaired beauty with pale skin, blue eyes and a big phat ass. Single.
Carlos - Football Team, boyfriend of Gwen.
Roger - Football Team, the gentle jock.
Andrew - Football Team, boyfriend of Naomi.
Alex - Football Team, trying to date Suzan.
Leo - The creepy loser.
Anna - School valedictorian. Very prestine, long hair and sophisticated glasses. Does ballet and play the piano.
Brandy - The mean but equally attractive female bully, blonde hair with gothic lolita clothes.
Jeff - A bully.
SETTING & WORLD
Real World. High school has just ended and people are deciding which are their next steps in their life. Coming of Age Story.
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Home from college and stuck in his childhood bedroom, a restless young man discovers a bizarre side-effect of his meditation practice: the ability to astral project into the bodies of other people.
My breath slowed, easing into the steady rhythm I’d been practicing. The YouTube guru’s voice was a distant murmur in my earbuds. Let your consciousness expand beyond the physical form. Feel the boundaries of your body dissolve… I always felt a little silly doing this in my bedroom, the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling my only witness. But tonight, something was different. A strange, pulling sensation started behind my navel, like a gentle but insistent hook.
I tried to ignore it, to focus on my breathing, but the tug grew stronger. The feeling of my own body—the weight of my limbs on the bed, the pressure of the mattress against my back—suddenly vanished. There was a dizzying rush of color and sound, a sensation of being pulled through a narrow, dark tunnel at impossible speed.
Then, with a soft thump I felt I heard more than heard, everything stopped. A weight... A different kind of weight. My chest felt heavy, supported. My hips felt wider.
I blinked. This wasn’t my room. The air smelled of lavender and expensive perfume. I looked down.
My hands. They were not my hands. They were smaller, with slender fingers tipped with perfectly manicured, pale pink nails. A delicate silver bracelet hung from one wrist. I wore a silk robe, peach, tied loosely at the waist. My heart—no, her heart—hammered against my ribs.
A wave of vertigo hit me, followed by a flood of images that weren’t mine. Lydia. Her name is Lydia. A memory of her laughing with my step mom at the mailbox, holding a grocery bag. Another of her watering her roses in a sun dress last weekend. Before I left for college, she'd always waved at me, a kind, almost shy smile on her face.
Mrs. Henderson from next door. The hot MILF all my friends whispered about but who just seemed… nice.
I was inside Lydia Henderson.
Panic surged, a cold, sharp spike. I needed to get back. I tried to concentrate, to will myself back to my own body lying on my bed, but nothing happened. The panic subsided, replaced by a trembling, awe-filled curiosity. I was here. In her.
I turned, my movements unfamiliar and graceful, and caught my reflection in a full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.
Wow.
She was… stunning. Her auburn hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Her green-flecked hazel eyes, were wide with an expression I knew was my own shock staring back. The silk robe hinted at the curves beneath. A lifetime of curious, stolen glances from my bedroom window hadn’t prepared me for the reality of being inside this body. A thrill, warm and forbidden, shot through me.
My gaze drifted past my—her—reflection to the rest of the walk-in closet behind me. The curiosity, always simmering just beneath the surface, roared to life. I’d always wondered. About the feel of it, the look of it, the secret world of it.
There I was surrounded by a forest of silks, satins, and soft, colorful fabrics.
Almost without conscious thought, my hands went to the tie of the robe. It fell open. She—I—was wearing matching peach lace lingerie underneath. A bra that cupped and lifted, panties that were just a delicate scrap of fabric. A heat that had nothing to do with possession flushed through me. It was awe. It was a secret, answered question.
I reached for a hanger. A slip of crimson satin and black lace. A teddy. My fingers trembled as I shimmied out of the peach set and into the red one. The cool satin whispered over my hips, the lace hugged curves I’d never had. I looked in the mirror again. A stranger, yet me. A beautiful, secret version of myself.
I spent what felt like hours, lost in a tactile wonderland. I tried on a tight pencil skirt and a cream-colored cashmere sweater, feeling the sophisticated drape. I found a pair of sky-high black heels and clomped around the carpet, her body’s balance instinctively better than mine would have been. The click-click of the heels on the hardwood floor was a powerful, feminine sound.
Then I found the vanity. An array of pots, pencils, and brushes that might as well have been alien technology. But as I picked up a tube of lipstick, a strange thing happened. A knowledge that wasn’t mine surfaced. A muscle memory. My hand steadied. I uncapped the tube, a deep rose color, and applied it to “my” lips in smooth, practiced strokes. Then eyeliner, a flick at the corner that appeared as if by magic. Blush dusted on the apples of cheeks I could now feel smiling back at me. I was using her memories, her routines. It was like riding a bike for the first time, but the bike knew the way.
When I opened my eyes and looked in the vanity mirror, a perfectly made-up Lydia Henderson looked back. It was her face, but the light in the eyes… that was all my stunned, giddy wonder.
I was awestruck. Transformed. The innocent, cookie-baking neighbor I saw from my window was also this… this goddess of satin and expertly applied liner.
I was floating on a cloud of discovery when another memory-nudge pulled me. It was stronger, more insistent than the makeup knowledge. It was a pull of routine, of duty, tinged with a secret thrill. It led me out of the bedroom, down the hall, to a door I hadn’t noticed before. It was plain, white, unlike the other decorative doors in the house.
I turned the knob and entered.
The room was an office, but unlike any office I'd ever seen before.
It was a small, soundproofed office. The dominant feature was a large desk with a ring light, a high-quality webcam, and a monitor. Plush, sexy outfits hung on a rack in the corner—things far more daring than the clothes in her main closet. Leather, lace, PVC. A shelf held… toys. Neatly arranged, clean, professional.
The cam girl setup was so blatant, so at odds with the cozy suburban mom exterior, that I just stared. Another memory-flash, not mine: the feeling of logging in, of a stage name—ScarletVelvet—of the focused, performative smile that wasn’t the same as the one she gave me when I mowed her lawn.
My heart hammered again, but with a different kind of adrenaline. This was her secret. And now it was mine. The monitor was dark, but a schedule was pinned to a corkboard. A highlighted time slot was in 15 minutes.
The idea hit me with the force of a train. It was insane. Reckless. Unforgivably invasive.
I couldn’t help it.
I sat down in the plush rolling chair. It adjusted to her—to my—body perfectly. I looked at the login screen for the streaming site. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn’t know the password. But I closed my eyes, and let her surface. Not her consciousness, but the automatic, procedural memory. Like the makeup. My fingers moved on their own, typing in a string of characters. The dashboard for ScarletVelvet loaded.
Five minutes to showtime.
I was sweating. I used one of her memories to pick an outfit—a black lace bodysuit that left very little to the imagination. I put it on, my hands fumbling more now with the nervous energy. I checked the angles of the camera using the preview on the monitor. I fluffed the auburn hair, reapplied the lipstick.
The clock hit the hour. A deep breath. I clicked “Go Live.”
The viewer count started ticking up almost immediately. 10… 25… 50. A chat window bloomed to life on the side screen.
Hey Scarlet!
Missed you last night!
You look hot.
A wave of paralyzing stage fright hit me. This wasn’t my memory, this was live. I had to perform. I swallowed, and offered a smile to the camera. It felt brittle.
“H-hey everyone,” I said, and her voice came out, smoother, sexier than my own cracking tenor. But the cadence was off. I sounded unsure.
You okay, Scarlet? You seem nervous.
I needed to act. I leaned back in the chair, another fragment of her muscle memory guiding me into a pose that was both relaxed and deliberately alluring. “Just a long day,” I purred, trying to mimic the smoky tone I’d heard in the memory-flash. It was closer. “But I’m happy to be here with you all now.”
I let my hands—her elegant, manicured hands—trail down over the lace of the bodysuit. The chat scrolled faster.
Yeah, that’s it.
So beautiful.
I was mimicking, a poor copy of the real ScarletVelvet. I was pulling from stolen glimpses, trying to project a sultry confidence I didn’t feel. I talked, my words stilted, my gestures a half-second too slow or too fast. But the viewers didn’t seem to mind too much. They were here for the visual, for the fantasy.
Then, a private message pinged. A username I didn’t recognize, with a high tipping status. The message read: Something’s different tonight. The light in your eyes. It’s… curious. Shy, almost. I like it. A lot.
The message sent a shiver down my spine—her spine. He saw it. He saw me. The clumsy, curious boy peeking out from behind this beautiful woman’s eyes. The revelation was no longer about her secret. It was about my own, reflected back at me through a stranger’s screen. The thrill was electric, terrifying, and utterly intoxicating. I was seen, yet completely hidden. And for the first time since I’d tumbled into this body, I didn’t want to leave.
The stream ended with my heart trying to claw its way out of Mrs. Henderson’s—my—chest. I clicked ‘End Broadcast’ and sat in the silent, neon-lit room, the ghost of a hundred anonymous compliments buzzing in my ears. The adrenaline crash was monumental. A deep, shuddering fatigue pulled at my limbs, at my borrowed eyes. Stumbling back to the master bedroom, I peeled off the black lace bodysuit, leaving it in a heap on the plush carpet. I didn’t have the energy to be neat. In a daze, I pulled on one of her soft cotton nightgowns from a drawer and collapsed into the enormous bed.
The scent of her shampoo on the pillows was the last thing I registered before a deep, black nothingness swallowed me.
***
I woke up with a jolt, my own thin mattress hard beneath my back. Morning light, harsh and familiar, streamed through my blinds. I was in my boxers and a faded band t-shirt. I was me. Just me.
For a long minute, I just lay there, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling I’d put up when I was ten. Had it been a dream? A hyper-vivid, wildly inappropriate stress-dream about my neighbor? It felt too detailed, too real. The weight of the heels. The slick texture of the lipstick. The cold thrill of the chat scrolling by.
I grabbed my laptop from my nightstand, my fingers clumsy. My search history felt like a crime scene. I typed in the site name from the memory, then, hesitantly, the username: ScarletVelvet.
There it was. A profile. A teaser image that was absolutely, unmistakably Mrs. Henderson, though with a smolder I’d never seen in daylight. My mouth went dry. With a trembling click, I navigated to her recent videos. And there, at the top, uploaded six hours ago: “Scarlet’s Shy Night – Live 10/23.”
I didn’t buy it. I couldn’t. I just hit play.
And there I was. Or rather, there she was, with me piloting. The footage was crystal clear. I saw the slight, uncharacteristic hesitation in my smile. The way my eyes kept flicking to the chat, wide with a panic I’d tried to hide. I heard my stolen voice say, “Just a long day,” with that imperfect, copied purr. I watched myself trail a hand over the lace, the movement a half-beat off from the real Scarlet’s confident flair.
It was real. Undeniable. A hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat, immediately choked by a wave of gut-churning guilt. And beneath the guilt, a flicker of that same, electrifying curiosity.
I spent the day in a fog, jumping at every sound. I saw Mrs. Henderson bringing in her mail in the afternoon, wearing yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt, her hair in a messy bun. She looked tired, but normal. Innocent. She gave a small, casual wave to someone across the street. The duality was mind-breaking.
As night fell, the pull became magnetic. The fear was still there, a cold stone in my stomach, but it was outweighed by the need to know, to feel that transformation again. To have an answer to a question I’d never dared ask out loud.
I sat on my bedroom floor again. No guided meditation this time. Just silence, and a focused, desperate intention. Take me back. Let me in.
The lurch was less violent this time, more like a swift, sinking drift. The lavender scent hit my nostrils. Weight. Softness. Curve.
I opened my eyes in her dark bedroom. Success.
This time, the panic was a minor tremor, quickly subdued by a sense of purpose. I went to her closet, but bypassed the crimson teddies and silk robes. I picked out a pair of dark, well-fitting jeans, a simple black long-sleeved tee, and a comfortable cardigan. I found sensible flats. I looked in the mirror: suburban mom ready for errands. Perfect.
Driving her car was another surge of alien-yet-familiar memory. My hands on the wheel were smaller, my perspective different. The weird feeling of a tight seat-belt resting in the valley of my chest. I made it to the mall, a nervous excitement humming in my veins. This was the test. To be in this body, in the world.
I went to a department store area I’d never dared enter before: the women’s lingerie section. Surrounded by racks of lace and satin, my face flushed. But no one looked twice at a woman browsing bras. The freedom was dizzying. I selected a few sets—a delicate sky blue, a bold leopard print—using her sense of size and fit. I held them up, imagining them on this body. It was a shopping trip from a dream.
Then, emboldened, I went to the trendy clothing stores. I tried on flowy dresses that swirled around my knees, a tight leather skirt that made my heart race, and a ridiculously expensive cashmere sweater that felt like a cloud. In the fitting room, under the fluorescent lights, I just stared. I turned, examining the lines of her—my—body from every angle. It wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was a kind of reverence.
The final stop took every ounce of my courage. A sex shop, discreetly located on the outskirts of the mall. A bell chimed as I walked in.
The girl behind the counter looked up. She was probably in her early twenties, with dyed black hair, a septum piercing, and an impressive array of tattoos snaking up her arms. Goth, cool, and utterly intimidating.
“Help you find anything?” she asked, her voice not unfriendly.
“Just… browsing,” I said, Mrs. Henderson’s voice coming out as a shy squeak. I wandered the aisles, overwhelmed by the sheer variety of it all. I felt the Goth girl’s eyes on me, the conservative cardigan-clad mom in a den of iniquity.
Eventually, curiosity overcoming shame, I picked up a small, sleek vibrator, examining it like it was an artifact from another planet.
“Good choice,” the girl said, appearing at the end of the aisle with a knowing smile. “That one’s discreet but powerful. Popular with… beginners. But definitely something you could handle.”
Our eyes met. Hers were sharp, kohl-rimmed, and saw way too much. A faint, amused smile played on her lips. “You seem different today, Mrs. Henderson.”
I nearly dropped the vibrator. She knew her? Of course she did. Small town. My blood ran cold, then hot. I managed a weak smile, channeling every ounce of innocent-neighbor energy I’d observed. “Just… exploring,” I whispered.
“Well, have fun,” she said, her smile turning into a full-blown grin. “Exploration is good for the soul.”
I paid in cash, my face burning, and fled.
Back in the sanctuary of her house, the adrenaline shifted into something slower, warmer, more insistent. The purchases were spread on her bed. The new lingerie. The sleek little toy from the shop.
I put on the sky blue set. It was even prettier on. The contrast against her skin was beautiful. I lay back on the bed, the memories of her own solo routines blending with my own frantic, curiosity. My touch was clumsy at first, then, guided by her body’s own innate knowledge, more sure. It was a bizarre, out-of-body experience that was intensely, overwhelmingly in-body. I was both the explorer and the territory. The pleasure, when it crested, was a shocking, all-consuming wave that left me gasping, shuddering, utterly spent in a way I’d never been in my own body.
In the heavy, satisfied silence that followed, lulled by the fading echoes of sensation and the soft cotton sheets, my borrowed eyes grew heavy. The last coherent thought I had was that this was the deepest, most content sleep I’d ever known.
***
I awoke to the sound of my own alarm blaring, sunlight once again piercing my own familiar, boring blinds. I was back in my scrawny body, tangled in my own sheets, home for the holiday break. For a moment, I just breathed, the phantom sensations of silk and release still tingling at the edges of my awareness. It was real. It had happened again.
And I already knew, with a certainty that scared and thrilled me, that I would be trying to go back as soon as I could.
The weekend stretched before me, a blank canvas of time. The two previous nights had been fleeting infiltrations. Today, I wanted more. I wanted a full day in her skin.
I sat on my floor as the first pale light of Saturday crept into my room. I focused, not on white light or my heart center, but on the memory of lavender and the feeling of satin against skin. The transition was smoother this time, less a lurch and more a conscious step through a door.
I arrived to the sound of running water and the humid, steamy scent of jasmine body wash. I was standing in her master bathroom, the glass shower door fogged, the silhouette of her body—my body—moving behind it. She was humming. I could feel the warm spray hitting my skin, the water sluicing over curves that were now mine. The sensation was immediate and intensely vivid. My hands—her hands—lifted almost of their own accord, slick with soap, gliding over the swell of breasts, the dip of a waist, the smooth plane of a stomach. It was a ritual washing, but for me, it was a breathtaking exploration.
The heat, the steam, the sheer physicality of it coiled a tight, urgent need low in my belly. As the water rained down, I let my hands wander with purpose, no longer just washing, but seeking. I leaned back against the cool tile, my breath hitching as my fingers found their way, guided by a knowledge both borrowed and innate. The climax in the shower was swift and shocking, a white-hot burst that made my knees weak, my stolen cries swallowed by the drumming water. I slumped, panting, the pleasure still echoing through nerve endings that weren't originally mine. It was incredible.
After, wrapped in a plush towel, I felt a strange, powerful confidence. I took my time. I blow-dried her auburn hair into the soft, shiny waves she usually wore. I applied makeup with the practiced ease her memories provided, creating that public-facing mask of friendly, approachable prettiness. I dressed in one of her nice casual outfits—dark jeans, a cream-colored V-neck sweater that clung in a flattering way, knee-high boots. I looked in the mirror and saw the perfect image of the neighbor my step mom would happily invite in for coffee.
The bold idea struck me then, sparkling with risk and a perverse curiosity. I would visit my house.
I walked the familiar short path, her heels clicking a confident rhythm on the sidewalk my own sneakers usually scuffed. Ringing my own doorbell was surreal.
My step mom answered, her face lighting up in a warm smile. “Lydia! What a nice surprise. Come in, come in! I was just about to have some coffee.”
“I was just out for a walk and thought I’d say hi,” I said, sliding effortlessly into Mrs. Henderson’s—Lydia’s—warm, slightly musical tone. It was eerie how easily it came, like putting on a well-worn coat from her memories of countless similar chats.
I followed my step mom into the kitchen, the familiar space looking different from this vantage point. She poured coffee, chattering about her plans to re-organize the garage. I nodded and smiled, sipping from the mug, the coffee tasting subtly different with her palate. I was leveraging her memories constantly: the way she held a mug, her opinion on the new neighborhood landscaping, her polite laugh. I was a puppet, and Lydia’s life was the set of strings.
"My son's back from college and could use something to do" my step mom asked with a conspiratorial wink. “Want me to send him over to help with some house work?”
“Oh that'd be perfect,” I heard myself say, and had to suppress a hysterical giggle. “He's a real sweet boy.”
After about twenty minutes of this bizarre charade, I saw my chance. “Would you mind if I excused myself to use your powder room?” I asked.
“Of course, you know where it is!”
I didn’t go to the downstairs powder room. With a thief’s heart, I padded quietly up the stairs, past the framed family photos that now seemed like artifacts from another life. My bedroom door was ajar. I peeked in.
There, sprawled on my bed, fully dressed and snoring softly, was me. Or rather, my empty body. It was the strangest sight of all—seeing my own lanky form from the outside, mouth slightly open, one arm flung over my forehead. A profound sense of dislocation washed over me, followed by a sharp, devious thrill.
I slipped inside and closed the door silently. I stared at my own sleeping face. Then, moving quickly, I pulled out the phone from my borrowed purse—Lydia’s phone. I propped it up on my desk, angled perfectly toward the bed, and hit record.
Then I approached the bed. My own body smelled like my cheap deodorant and the fabric of my old comforter. Gently, I unbuckled my own jeans. My hands, small and soft, worked with a clinical curiosity that was also deeply erotic. I gave my unconscious self a handjob, watching the physiological reaction with a detached, fascinated awe. My shaft thick and hard between my hands. Leaning down, I then took myself into my mouth—her mouth. The sensations were a confusing feedback loop: the physical act, the visual of my own body, the knowledge of who was doing it. It was narcissistic, invasive, and unbearably hot. My body gave in, shooting a small load that covered my face and I made sure the phone captured it all.
I quickly cleaned everything up with a tissue from my nightstand, redid my jeans, and grabbed the phone. I stopped the recording. With shaky fingers, I airdropped the video file to my own phone, which was lying on the nightstand next to my sleeping head. I then meticulously deleted the video from Lydia’s phone and cleared the ‘recently deleted’ folder. The evidence was now only in my possession.
Taking a steadying breath, I smoothed down my sweater and left my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I rejoined my mom in the kitchen, my cheeks flushed.
“Everything alright? You look a little flushed,” my mom said.
“Fine! Just a bit warm,” I said, forcing another smile. I snuck glances at my mom as we talked, seeing the familiar lines of her face from this new, feminine perspective. I was hyper-aware of the body I inhabited, the sway of Lydia’s hair, the brush of her sweater against her breasts—my breasts—as I moved.
The afternoon wore on in a surreal bubble. I was trying to decide what to do next with this borrowed life. Go shopping again? Experiment more at her cam setup? The possibilities were a dizzying array in my mind.
And then, without warning, it happened. A sudden, tugging sensation behind my navel, like a rubber band stretched too far and snapping back.
***
I gasped, my eyes flying open. I was on my back in my own bed, the afternoon sun now at a different angle. My body felt instantly familiar and was overcome with a feeling of afterglow. The phantom sensations of the shower, of my own touch, still buzzed on my skin like a fading sunburn.
The memory of the video jolted me into action. I scrambled for my phone. There it was. A file received from Lydia Henderson’s device. I didn’t open it. I just stared at the filename, a cold sweat breaking out. It was real. All of it.
I changed my clothes in a frenzy, pulling on a fresh shirt and jeans, my mind reeling. I had to see. I had to know if she was still there.
I practically flew down the stairs, skidding to a halt in the doorway to the living room. My step mom was still there, on the sofa.
And sitting across from her, sipping the last of her coffee, was Mrs. Henderson—Lydia. She looked perfectly composed, her makeup fresh, her smile easy.
My step mom turned. “Oh, speak of the devil! Lydia was just telling me about her new rose bushes.”
Lydia’s eyes met mine. Those green-flecked hazel eyes held mine for a long, deliberate second. Then, as my step mom glanced down to pick up her own mug, Lydia’s expression shifted. The pleasant neighborly mask dissolved into something else—something knowing, sharp, and utterly mischievous. She gave me a slow, deliberate wink.
Then, her hand resting casually on her knee, hidden from my step mom’s view by the coffee table, she made a quick, unmistakable motion: her fist pumping up and down in the universal sign for a jerk-off.
My blood turned to ice. My stomach dropped through the floor.
She knew. Somehow she knew.
Before I could react, even to breathe, she smiled sweetly at my step mom, stood up, and said, “Well, I should let you two get on with your weekend. Thanks for the coffee, Ellen!”
She walked past me to the door, her perfume trailing behind her. As she reached for the knob, she paused, looked back over her shoulder directly at me, and mouthed silent words with a smirk that was anything but innocent:
“I hope you had fun.”
***
The meditation was a failure. For three nights straight, I sat on my floor until my legs cramped, focusing every ounce of my will on the memory of lavender and silk. Nothing. Just the quiet hum of my own thoughts and the growing dread that my window into Lydia’s world had slammed shut forever.
So when my step-mom Ellen cheerfully announced on Tuesday that she’d “volunteered” me to help Mrs. Henderson haul some old boxes to her attic, my blood ran cold. This wasn’t a coincidence. This was a reckoning.
I stood on Lydia’s porch, my heart trying to batter its way through my ribs. I rang the bell.
She answered almost instantly, as if she’d been waiting. She wore simple leggings and a tank top, her hair in a ponytail. No makeup. She looked like the mom next door, but her eyes held a storm.
“Come in,” she said, her voice flat. I shuffled inside, the familiar scent of her home now feeling like a crime scene.
The door closed behind me with a soft, final click. We stood in her foyer. The air was thick with unspoken things.
She crossed her arms, fixing me with a hard stare. “So. You want to tell me what the hell that was? Snooping through my things? Wearing my clothes? Going on my stream?” Her tone was sharp, accusatory. “That is some seriously messed up, perverted shit.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My face burned with shame and terror. I was going to be arrested. My life was over. I managed a strangled, “I… I’m so sorry, Mrs. Henderson, I don’t know what—”
She burst out laughing.
It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but a rich, genuine sound that filled the hallway. The angry mask melted away, replaced by sparkling amusement. “Oh, god, look at your face!” she wheezed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Priceless. I’m just messing with you, kid. Everything’s fine.”
I sagged against the wall, lightheaded with relief. “W-what?”
“Everything’s fine,” she repeated, grinning. “Well, as fine as it can be when you find out your neighbor’s been borrowing your body like a rental car.” She jerked her head toward the kitchen. “C’mon. I made iced tea.”
In a daze, I followed her. She poured two glasses, leaning against the counter. “So,” she began, her tone now conspiratorial. “That goth chick at Sinister Delights? Cute, right? She texted me after you left, said I seemed ‘different.’ More fun.”
I could only stare, my mind struggling to catch up.
“And the mall,” she continued, sipping her drink. “Good choices. The leopard print? Bold. I’d have never picked it for myself, but I kinda love it.”
I just held the cold glass, unable to process her words.
“And the cam show,” she continued, leaning against the counter, a sly smile on her lips. “Shy Girl Next Door? That was a brilliant angle. The nervous glances, the slightly clumsy moves… it was authentic. Viewers ate it up. My tips were 30% higher than usual.”
Her expression softened, turning serious for a moment. “That, you do have to keep to yourself. My… professional life. That’s a non-negotiable secret.”
“Of course,” I blurted. “Never. I swear.”
“I believe you,” she said, and she seemed to mean it. “And the video? Of me… you know, with you?” She shook her head, a faint blush on her cheeks that wasn’t entirely from amusement. “You can keep that. Consider it a… weird souvenir.”
The casual way she said it was staggering. “Why… why are you being so cool about this?” I finally managed to whisper.
Lydia sighed, setting her glass down. She looked at me, her gaze turning inward and serious. “Because it wasn’t just you in my head. When you left… something stayed. A little echo. A feeling. I can’t access your memories, but I can feel… a presence. A younger, curious, kinda horny male presence. It’s faint, like a radio playing in another room, but it’s there. It’s why I knew it was you at the door. I felt the echo… resonate.”
She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. It was a strangely companionable gesture. “I don’t feel violated. I feel… like I owe you a favor. You left a piece of yourself here, and I feel like I should treat you like a new found brother. So.” She shrugged, a new, determined glint in her eye. “I’m going to do you a solid. One for the road, since you're about to go back to college and can’t seem to get back in on your own.”
Before I could ask what she meant, she took my hand. “Come on.”
She led me, stunned and silent, to her bedroom. She pointed to the edge of the bed. “Sit.”
I sat. She went to her dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out the leopard print lingerie I’d bought. She gave me a wink, then disappeared into the walk-in closet to change.
When she emerged, my breath caught. The leopard print was even more stunning on her when she wore it with intention. The bralette pushed her breasts up, the high-cut briefs accentuating the curve of her hips. She looked like a predator, confident and sleek.
“Lie back,” she instructed softly.
I did. She knelt on the floor between my knees, her hands deftly undoing my jeans. This was nothing like the frantic, secretive act in my bedroom. This was slow, deliberate, and performed with a masterful skill that had me trembling in seconds. Her mouth was hot and knowing, her hands roaming my thighs and stomach. She took her time, bringing me to the edge twice with torturous skill before pulling back with a soft laugh. “Not yet.”
Then she stood up, shimmied out of the briefs, and climbed onto the bed, straddling me. She guided me inside her, sinking down with a slow, deep sigh that was part pleasure, part relief.
The sex was nothing I had ever experienced. It was passionate but controlled, intense but deeply communicative. She rode me with a powerful, rolling rhythm, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned down, her breasts brushing my chest, and kissed me—a deep, searching kiss that tasted of iced tea and mint. The leopard print lace scraped deliciously against my skin.
“You feel that?” she murmured against my lips, her hips never stopping their movement. “That’s all you. That echo. It’s like I know what you like before you do.”
She was right. Every shift, every touch, was perfectly aligned with my building pleasure. It was as if she was reading the ghost I’d left inside her. The climax, when it hit me, was a cataclysmic wave that tore a raw, guttural shout from my throat. She followed me over a moment later, clenching around me, her own cry muffled in the crook of my neck.
We lay together for a long time, tangled and sweating, the scent of sex and her perfume filling the air. She eventually slipped off me and curled against my side. “A proper goodbye,” she whispered, before her breathing evened out into sleep.
***
I woke up alone in my own bed. The gray light of dawn filtered in. The sheets smelled of my own laundry detergent. For a dizzying moment, I was sure it had all been another impossibly vivid dream.
Then I felt the pleasant ache in my muscles. I saw the faint, smudged trace of lipstick—a peachy nude, Morning Kiss—on my collar.
And I remembered her words. You left a piece of yourself here.
That evening, restless and haunted, I sat on my bedroom floor once more. Not trying to reach for Lydia. Just trying to quiet the echo. My consciousness drifted, untethered, through the familiar walls of my house.
I floated into the master bedroom. My step mom, Ellen, was there, sitting at her vanity in a robe, carefully applying night cream. I hovered, a silent, invisible observer. She hummed a tune from some old musical, her face relaxed and kind in the soft light.
The thought, sudden and unbidden, shimmered in my non-corporeal mind. A new door. A different set of strings to pull. The curiosity, now awakened and fed, was a hungry thing.
I floated closer, watching the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.
The question hung in the ether, heavy with possibility.
Do I want to?
My breath slowed, easing into the steady rhythm I’d been practicing. The YouTube guru’s voice was a distant murmur in my earbuds. Let your consciousness expand beyond the physical form. Feel the boundaries of your body dissolve… I always felt a little silly doing this in my bedroom, the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling my only witness. But tonight, something was different. A strange, pulling sensation started behind my navel, like a gentle but insistent hook.
I tried to ignore it, to focus on my breathing, but the tug grew stronger. The feeling of my own body—the weight of my limbs on the bed, the pressure of the mattress against my back—suddenly vanished. There was a dizzying rush of color and sound, a sensation of being pulled through a narrow, dark tunnel at impossible speed.
Then, with a soft thump I felt I heard more than heard, everything stopped. A weight... A different kind of weight. My chest felt heavy, supported. My hips felt wider.
I blinked. This wasn’t my room. The air smelled of lavender and expensive perfume. I looked down.
My hands. They were not my hands. They were smaller, with slender fingers tipped with perfectly manicured, pale pink nails. A delicate silver bracelet hung from one wrist. I wore a silk robe, peach, tied loosely at the waist. My heart—no, her heart—hammered against my ribs.
A wave of vertigo hit me, followed by a flood of images that weren’t mine. Lydia. Her name is Lydia. A memory of her laughing with my step mom at the mailbox, holding a grocery bag. Another of her watering her roses in a sun dress last weekend. Before I left for college, she'd always waved at me, a kind, almost shy smile on her face.
Mrs. Henderson from next door. The hot MILF all my friends whispered about but who just seemed… nice.
I was inside Lydia Henderson.
Panic surged, a cold, sharp spike. I needed to get back. I tried to concentrate, to will myself back to my own body lying on my bed, but nothing happened. The panic subsided, replaced by a trembling, awe-filled curiosity. I was here. In her.
I turned, my movements unfamiliar and graceful, and caught my reflection in a full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.
Wow.
She was… stunning. Her auburn hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Her green-flecked hazel eyes, were wide with an expression I knew was my own shock staring back. The silk robe hinted at the curves beneath. A lifetime of curious, stolen glances from my bedroom window hadn’t prepared me for the reality of being inside this body. A thrill, warm and forbidden, shot through me.
My gaze drifted past my—her—reflection to the rest of the walk-in closet behind me. The curiosity, always simmering just beneath the surface, roared to life. I’d always wondered. About the feel of it, the look of it, the secret world of it.
There I was surrounded by a forest of silks, satins, and soft, colorful fabrics.
Almost without conscious thought, my hands went to the tie of the robe. It fell open. She—I—was wearing matching peach lace lingerie underneath. A bra that cupped and lifted, panties that were just a delicate scrap of fabric. A heat that had nothing to do with possession flushed through me. It was awe. It was a secret, answered question.
I reached for a hanger. A slip of crimson satin and black lace. A teddy. My fingers trembled as I shimmied out of the peach set and into the red one. The cool satin whispered over my hips, the lace hugged curves I’d never had. I looked in the mirror again. A stranger, yet me. A beautiful, secret version of myself.
I spent what felt like hours, lost in a tactile wonderland. I tried on a tight pencil skirt and a cream-colored cashmere sweater, feeling the sophisticated drape. I found a pair of sky-high black heels and clomped around the carpet, her body’s balance instinctively better than mine would have been. The click-click of the heels on the hardwood floor was a powerful, feminine sound.
Then I found the vanity. An array of pots, pencils, and brushes that might as well have been alien technology. But as I picked up a tube of lipstick, a strange thing happened. A knowledge that wasn’t mine surfaced. A muscle memory. My hand steadied. I uncapped the tube, a deep rose color, and applied it to “my” lips in smooth, practiced strokes. Then eyeliner, a flick at the corner that appeared as if by magic. Blush dusted on the apples of cheeks I could now feel smiling back at me. I was using her memories, her routines. It was like riding a bike for the first time, but the bike knew the way.
When I opened my eyes and looked in the vanity mirror, a perfectly made-up Lydia Henderson looked back. It was her face, but the light in the eyes… that was all my stunned, giddy wonder.
I was awestruck. Transformed. The innocent, cookie-baking neighbor I saw from my window was also this… this goddess of satin and expertly applied liner.
I was floating on a cloud of discovery when another memory-nudge pulled me. It was stronger, more insistent than the makeup knowledge. It was a pull of routine, of duty, tinged with a secret thrill. It led me out of the bedroom, down the hall, to a door I hadn’t noticed before. It was plain, white, unlike the other decorative doors in the house.
I turned the knob and entered.
The room was an office, but unlike any office I'd ever seen before.
It was a small, soundproofed office. The dominant feature was a large desk with a ring light, a high-quality webcam, and a monitor. Plush, sexy outfits hung on a rack in the corner—things far more daring than the clothes in her main closet. Leather, lace, PVC. A shelf held… toys. Neatly arranged, clean, professional.
The cam girl setup was so blatant, so at odds with the cozy suburban mom exterior, that I just stared. Another memory-flash, not mine: the feeling of logging in, of a stage name—ScarletVelvet—of the focused, performative smile that wasn’t the same as the one she gave me when I mowed her lawn.
My heart hammered again, but with a different kind of adrenaline. This was her secret. And now it was mine. The monitor was dark, but a schedule was pinned to a corkboard. A highlighted time slot was in 15 minutes.
The idea hit me with the force of a train. It was insane. Reckless. Unforgivably invasive.
I couldn’t help it.
I sat down in the plush rolling chair. It adjusted to her—to my—body perfectly. I looked at the login screen for the streaming site. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn’t know the password. But I closed my eyes, and let her surface. Not her consciousness, but the automatic, procedural memory. Like the makeup. My fingers moved on their own, typing in a string of characters. The dashboard for ScarletVelvet loaded.
Five minutes to showtime.
I was sweating. I used one of her memories to pick an outfit—a black lace bodysuit that left very little to the imagination. I put it on, my hands fumbling more now with the nervous energy. I checked the angles of the camera using the preview on the monitor. I fluffed the auburn hair, reapplied the lipstick.
The clock hit the hour. A deep breath. I clicked “Go Live.”
The viewer count started ticking up almost immediately. 10… 25… 50. A chat window bloomed to life on the side screen.
Hey Scarlet!
Missed you last night!
You look hot.
A wave of paralyzing stage fright hit me. This wasn’t my memory, this was live. I had to perform. I swallowed, and offered a smile to the camera. It felt brittle.
“H-hey everyone,” I said, and her voice came out, smoother, sexier than my own cracking tenor. But the cadence was off. I sounded unsure.
You okay, Scarlet? You seem nervous.
I needed to act. I leaned back in the chair, another fragment of her muscle memory guiding me into a pose that was both relaxed and deliberately alluring. “Just a long day,” I purred, trying to mimic the smoky tone I’d heard in the memory-flash. It was closer. “But I’m happy to be here with you all now.”
I let my hands—her elegant, manicured hands—trail down over the lace of the bodysuit. The chat scrolled faster.
Yeah, that’s it.
So beautiful.
I was mimicking, a poor copy of the real ScarletVelvet. I was pulling from stolen glimpses, trying to project a sultry confidence I didn’t feel. I talked, my words stilted, my gestures a half-second too slow or too fast. But the viewers didn’t seem to mind too much. They were here for the visual, for the fantasy.
Then, a private message pinged. A username I didn’t recognize, with a high tipping status. The message read: Something’s different tonight. The light in your eyes. It’s… curious. Shy, almost. I like it. A lot.
The message sent a shiver down my spine—her spine. He saw it. He saw me. The clumsy, curious boy peeking out from behind this beautiful woman’s eyes. The revelation was no longer about her secret. It was about my own, reflected back at me through a stranger’s screen. The thrill was electric, terrifying, and utterly intoxicating. I was seen, yet completely hidden. And for the first time since I’d tumbled into this body, I didn’t want to leave.
The stream ended with my heart trying to claw its way out of Mrs. Henderson’s—my—chest. I clicked ‘End Broadcast’ and sat in the silent, neon-lit room, the ghost of a hundred anonymous compliments buzzing in my ears. The adrenaline crash was monumental. A deep, shuddering fatigue pulled at my limbs, at my borrowed eyes. Stumbling back to the master bedroom, I peeled off the black lace bodysuit, leaving it in a heap on the plush carpet. I didn’t have the energy to be neat. In a daze, I pulled on one of her soft cotton nightgowns from a drawer and collapsed into the enormous bed.
The scent of her shampoo on the pillows was the last thing I registered before a deep, black nothingness swallowed me.
***
I woke up with a jolt, my own thin mattress hard beneath my back. Morning light, harsh and familiar, streamed through my blinds. I was in my boxers and a faded band t-shirt. I was me. Just me.
For a long minute, I just lay there, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling I’d put up when I was ten. Had it been a dream? A hyper-vivid, wildly inappropriate stress-dream about my neighbor? It felt too detailed, too real. The weight of the heels. The slick texture of the lipstick. The cold thrill of the chat scrolling by.
I grabbed my laptop from my nightstand, my fingers clumsy. My search history felt like a crime scene. I typed in the site name from the memory, then, hesitantly, the username: ScarletVelvet.
There it was. A profile. A teaser image that was absolutely, unmistakably Mrs. Henderson, though with a smolder I’d never seen in daylight. My mouth went dry. With a trembling click, I navigated to her recent videos. And there, at the top, uploaded six hours ago: “Scarlet’s Shy Night – Live 10/23.”
I didn’t buy it. I couldn’t. I just hit play.
And there I was. Or rather, there she was, with me piloting. The footage was crystal clear. I saw the slight, uncharacteristic hesitation in my smile. The way my eyes kept flicking to the chat, wide with a panic I’d tried to hide. I heard my stolen voice say, “Just a long day,” with that imperfect, copied purr. I watched myself trail a hand over the lace, the movement a half-beat off from the real Scarlet’s confident flair.
It was real. Undeniable. A hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat, immediately choked by a wave of gut-churning guilt. And beneath the guilt, a flicker of that same, electrifying curiosity.
I spent the day in a fog, jumping at every sound. I saw Mrs. Henderson bringing in her mail in the afternoon, wearing yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt, her hair in a messy bun. She looked tired, but normal. Innocent. She gave a small, casual wave to someone across the street. The duality was mind-breaking.
As night fell, the pull became magnetic. The fear was still there, a cold stone in my stomach, but it was outweighed by the need to know, to feel that transformation again. To have an answer to a question I’d never dared ask out loud.
I sat on my bedroom floor again. No guided meditation this time. Just silence, and a focused, desperate intention. Take me back. Let me in.
The lurch was less violent this time, more like a swift, sinking drift. The lavender scent hit my nostrils. Weight. Softness. Curve.
I opened my eyes in her dark bedroom. Success.
This time, the panic was a minor tremor, quickly subdued by a sense of purpose. I went to her closet, but bypassed the crimson teddies and silk robes. I picked out a pair of dark, well-fitting jeans, a simple black long-sleeved tee, and a comfortable cardigan. I found sensible flats. I looked in the mirror: suburban mom ready for errands. Perfect.
Driving her car was another surge of alien-yet-familiar memory. My hands on the wheel were smaller, my perspective different. The weird feeling of a tight seat-belt resting in the valley of my chest. I made it to the mall, a nervous excitement humming in my veins. This was the test. To be in this body, in the world.
I went to a department store area I’d never dared enter before: the women’s lingerie section. Surrounded by racks of lace and satin, my face flushed. But no one looked twice at a woman browsing bras. The freedom was dizzying. I selected a few sets—a delicate sky blue, a bold leopard print—using her sense of size and fit. I held them up, imagining them on this body. It was a shopping trip from a dream.
Then, emboldened, I went to the trendy clothing stores. I tried on flowy dresses that swirled around my knees, a tight leather skirt that made my heart race, and a ridiculously expensive cashmere sweater that felt like a cloud. In the fitting room, under the fluorescent lights, I just stared. I turned, examining the lines of her—my—body from every angle. It wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was a kind of reverence.
The final stop took every ounce of my courage. A sex shop, discreetly located on the outskirts of the mall. A bell chimed as I walked in.
The girl behind the counter looked up. She was probably in her early twenties, with dyed black hair, a septum piercing, and an impressive array of tattoos snaking up her arms. Goth, cool, and utterly intimidating.
“Help you find anything?” she asked, her voice not unfriendly.
“Just… browsing,” I said, Mrs. Henderson’s voice coming out as a shy squeak. I wandered the aisles, overwhelmed by the sheer variety of it all. I felt the Goth girl’s eyes on me, the conservative cardigan-clad mom in a den of iniquity.
Eventually, curiosity overcoming shame, I picked up a small, sleek vibrator, examining it like it was an artifact from another planet.
“Good choice,” the girl said, appearing at the end of the aisle with a knowing smile. “That one’s discreet but powerful. Popular with… beginners. But definitely something you could handle.”
Our eyes met. Hers were sharp, kohl-rimmed, and saw way too much. A faint, amused smile played on her lips. “You seem different today, Mrs. Henderson.”
I nearly dropped the vibrator. She knew her? Of course she did. Small town. My blood ran cold, then hot. I managed a weak smile, channeling every ounce of innocent-neighbor energy I’d observed. “Just… exploring,” I whispered.
“Well, have fun,” she said, her smile turning into a full-blown grin. “Exploration is good for the soul.”
I paid in cash, my face burning, and fled.
Back in the sanctuary of her house, the adrenaline shifted into something slower, warmer, more insistent. The purchases were spread on her bed. The new lingerie. The sleek little toy from the shop.
I put on the sky blue set. It was even prettier on. The contrast against her skin was beautiful. I lay back on the bed, the memories of her own solo routines blending with my own frantic, curiosity. My touch was clumsy at first, then, guided by her body’s own innate knowledge, more sure. It was a bizarre, out-of-body experience that was intensely, overwhelmingly in-body. I was both the explorer and the territory. The pleasure, when it crested, was a shocking, all-consuming wave that left me gasping, shuddering, utterly spent in a way I’d never been in my own body.
In the heavy, satisfied silence that followed, lulled by the fading echoes of sensation and the soft cotton sheets, my borrowed eyes grew heavy. The last coherent thought I had was that this was the deepest, most content sleep I’d ever known.
***
I awoke to the sound of my own alarm blaring, sunlight once again piercing my own familiar, boring blinds. I was back in my scrawny body, tangled in my own sheets, home for the holiday break. For a moment, I just breathed, the phantom sensations of silk and release still tingling at the edges of my awareness. It was real. It had happened again.
And I already knew, with a certainty that scared and thrilled me, that I would be trying to go back as soon as I could.
The weekend stretched before me, a blank canvas of time. The two previous nights had been fleeting infiltrations. Today, I wanted more. I wanted a full day in her skin.
I sat on my floor as the first pale light of Saturday crept into my room. I focused, not on white light or my heart center, but on the memory of lavender and the feeling of satin against skin. The transition was smoother this time, less a lurch and more a conscious step through a door.
I arrived to the sound of running water and the humid, steamy scent of jasmine body wash. I was standing in her master bathroom, the glass shower door fogged, the silhouette of her body—my body—moving behind it. She was humming. I could feel the warm spray hitting my skin, the water sluicing over curves that were now mine. The sensation was immediate and intensely vivid. My hands—her hands—lifted almost of their own accord, slick with soap, gliding over the swell of breasts, the dip of a waist, the smooth plane of a stomach. It was a ritual washing, but for me, it was a breathtaking exploration.
The heat, the steam, the sheer physicality of it coiled a tight, urgent need low in my belly. As the water rained down, I let my hands wander with purpose, no longer just washing, but seeking. I leaned back against the cool tile, my breath hitching as my fingers found their way, guided by a knowledge both borrowed and innate. The climax in the shower was swift and shocking, a white-hot burst that made my knees weak, my stolen cries swallowed by the drumming water. I slumped, panting, the pleasure still echoing through nerve endings that weren't originally mine. It was incredible.
After, wrapped in a plush towel, I felt a strange, powerful confidence. I took my time. I blow-dried her auburn hair into the soft, shiny waves she usually wore. I applied makeup with the practiced ease her memories provided, creating that public-facing mask of friendly, approachable prettiness. I dressed in one of her nice casual outfits—dark jeans, a cream-colored V-neck sweater that clung in a flattering way, knee-high boots. I looked in the mirror and saw the perfect image of the neighbor my step mom would happily invite in for coffee.
The bold idea struck me then, sparkling with risk and a perverse curiosity. I would visit my house.
I walked the familiar short path, her heels clicking a confident rhythm on the sidewalk my own sneakers usually scuffed. Ringing my own doorbell was surreal.
My step mom answered, her face lighting up in a warm smile. “Lydia! What a nice surprise. Come in, come in! I was just about to have some coffee.”
“I was just out for a walk and thought I’d say hi,” I said, sliding effortlessly into Mrs. Henderson’s—Lydia’s—warm, slightly musical tone. It was eerie how easily it came, like putting on a well-worn coat from her memories of countless similar chats.
I followed my step mom into the kitchen, the familiar space looking different from this vantage point. She poured coffee, chattering about her plans to re-organize the garage. I nodded and smiled, sipping from the mug, the coffee tasting subtly different with her palate. I was leveraging her memories constantly: the way she held a mug, her opinion on the new neighborhood landscaping, her polite laugh. I was a puppet, and Lydia’s life was the set of strings.
"My son's back from college and could use something to do" my step mom asked with a conspiratorial wink. “Want me to send him over to help with some house work?”
“Oh that'd be perfect,” I heard myself say, and had to suppress a hysterical giggle. “He's a real sweet boy.”
After about twenty minutes of this bizarre charade, I saw my chance. “Would you mind if I excused myself to use your powder room?” I asked.
“Of course, you know where it is!”
I didn’t go to the downstairs powder room. With a thief’s heart, I padded quietly up the stairs, past the framed family photos that now seemed like artifacts from another life. My bedroom door was ajar. I peeked in.
There, sprawled on my bed, fully dressed and snoring softly, was me. Or rather, my empty body. It was the strangest sight of all—seeing my own lanky form from the outside, mouth slightly open, one arm flung over my forehead. A profound sense of dislocation washed over me, followed by a sharp, devious thrill.
I slipped inside and closed the door silently. I stared at my own sleeping face. Then, moving quickly, I pulled out the phone from my borrowed purse—Lydia’s phone. I propped it up on my desk, angled perfectly toward the bed, and hit record.
Then I approached the bed. My own body smelled like my cheap deodorant and the fabric of my old comforter. Gently, I unbuckled my own jeans. My hands, small and soft, worked with a clinical curiosity that was also deeply erotic. I gave my unconscious self a handjob, watching the physiological reaction with a detached, fascinated awe. My shaft thick and hard between my hands. Leaning down, I then took myself into my mouth—her mouth. The sensations were a confusing feedback loop: the physical act, the visual of my own body, the knowledge of who was doing it. It was narcissistic, invasive, and unbearably hot. My body gave in, shooting a small load that covered my face and I made sure the phone captured it all.
I quickly cleaned everything up with a tissue from my nightstand, redid my jeans, and grabbed the phone. I stopped the recording. With shaky fingers, I airdropped the video file to my own phone, which was lying on the nightstand next to my sleeping head. I then meticulously deleted the video from Lydia’s phone and cleared the ‘recently deleted’ folder. The evidence was now only in my possession.
Taking a steadying breath, I smoothed down my sweater and left my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I rejoined my mom in the kitchen, my cheeks flushed.
“Everything alright? You look a little flushed,” my mom said.
“Fine! Just a bit warm,” I said, forcing another smile. I snuck glances at my mom as we talked, seeing the familiar lines of her face from this new, feminine perspective. I was hyper-aware of the body I inhabited, the sway of Lydia’s hair, the brush of her sweater against her breasts—my breasts—as I moved.
The afternoon wore on in a surreal bubble. I was trying to decide what to do next with this borrowed life. Go shopping again? Experiment more at her cam setup? The possibilities were a dizzying array in my mind.
And then, without warning, it happened. A sudden, tugging sensation behind my navel, like a rubber band stretched too far and snapping back.
***
I gasped, my eyes flying open. I was on my back in my own bed, the afternoon sun now at a different angle. My body felt instantly familiar and was overcome with a feeling of afterglow. The phantom sensations of the shower, of my own touch, still buzzed on my skin like a fading sunburn.
The memory of the video jolted me into action. I scrambled for my phone. There it was. A file received from Lydia Henderson’s device. I didn’t open it. I just stared at the filename, a cold sweat breaking out. It was real. All of it.
I changed my clothes in a frenzy, pulling on a fresh shirt and jeans, my mind reeling. I had to see. I had to know if she was still there.
I practically flew down the stairs, skidding to a halt in the doorway to the living room. My step mom was still there, on the sofa.
And sitting across from her, sipping the last of her coffee, was Mrs. Henderson—Lydia. She looked perfectly composed, her makeup fresh, her smile easy.
My step mom turned. “Oh, speak of the devil! Lydia was just telling me about her new rose bushes.”
Lydia’s eyes met mine. Those green-flecked hazel eyes held mine for a long, deliberate second. Then, as my step mom glanced down to pick up her own mug, Lydia’s expression shifted. The pleasant neighborly mask dissolved into something else—something knowing, sharp, and utterly mischievous. She gave me a slow, deliberate wink.
Then, her hand resting casually on her knee, hidden from my step mom’s view by the coffee table, she made a quick, unmistakable motion: her fist pumping up and down in the universal sign for a jerk-off.
My blood turned to ice. My stomach dropped through the floor.
She knew. Somehow she knew.
Before I could react, even to breathe, she smiled sweetly at my step mom, stood up, and said, “Well, I should let you two get on with your weekend. Thanks for the coffee, Ellen!”
She walked past me to the door, her perfume trailing behind her. As she reached for the knob, she paused, looked back over her shoulder directly at me, and mouthed silent words with a smirk that was anything but innocent:
“I hope you had fun.”
***
The meditation was a failure. For three nights straight, I sat on my floor until my legs cramped, focusing every ounce of my will on the memory of lavender and silk. Nothing. Just the quiet hum of my own thoughts and the growing dread that my window into Lydia’s world had slammed shut forever.
So when my step-mom Ellen cheerfully announced on Tuesday that she’d “volunteered” me to help Mrs. Henderson haul some old boxes to her attic, my blood ran cold. This wasn’t a coincidence. This was a reckoning.
I stood on Lydia’s porch, my heart trying to batter its way through my ribs. I rang the bell.
She answered almost instantly, as if she’d been waiting. She wore simple leggings and a tank top, her hair in a ponytail. No makeup. She looked like the mom next door, but her eyes held a storm.
“Come in,” she said, her voice flat. I shuffled inside, the familiar scent of her home now feeling like a crime scene.
The door closed behind me with a soft, final click. We stood in her foyer. The air was thick with unspoken things.
She crossed her arms, fixing me with a hard stare. “So. You want to tell me what the hell that was? Snooping through my things? Wearing my clothes? Going on my stream?” Her tone was sharp, accusatory. “That is some seriously messed up, perverted shit.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My face burned with shame and terror. I was going to be arrested. My life was over. I managed a strangled, “I… I’m so sorry, Mrs. Henderson, I don’t know what—”
She burst out laughing.
It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but a rich, genuine sound that filled the hallway. The angry mask melted away, replaced by sparkling amusement. “Oh, god, look at your face!” she wheezed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Priceless. I’m just messing with you, kid. Everything’s fine.”
I sagged against the wall, lightheaded with relief. “W-what?”
“Everything’s fine,” she repeated, grinning. “Well, as fine as it can be when you find out your neighbor’s been borrowing your body like a rental car.” She jerked her head toward the kitchen. “C’mon. I made iced tea.”
In a daze, I followed her. She poured two glasses, leaning against the counter. “So,” she began, her tone now conspiratorial. “That goth chick at Sinister Delights? Cute, right? She texted me after you left, said I seemed ‘different.’ More fun.”
I could only stare, my mind struggling to catch up.
“And the mall,” she continued, sipping her drink. “Good choices. The leopard print? Bold. I’d have never picked it for myself, but I kinda love it.”
I just held the cold glass, unable to process her words.
“And the cam show,” she continued, leaning against the counter, a sly smile on her lips. “Shy Girl Next Door? That was a brilliant angle. The nervous glances, the slightly clumsy moves… it was authentic. Viewers ate it up. My tips were 30% higher than usual.”
Her expression softened, turning serious for a moment. “That, you do have to keep to yourself. My… professional life. That’s a non-negotiable secret.”
“Of course,” I blurted. “Never. I swear.”
“I believe you,” she said, and she seemed to mean it. “And the video? Of me… you know, with you?” She shook her head, a faint blush on her cheeks that wasn’t entirely from amusement. “You can keep that. Consider it a… weird souvenir.”
The casual way she said it was staggering. “Why… why are you being so cool about this?” I finally managed to whisper.
Lydia sighed, setting her glass down. She looked at me, her gaze turning inward and serious. “Because it wasn’t just you in my head. When you left… something stayed. A little echo. A feeling. I can’t access your memories, but I can feel… a presence. A younger, curious, kinda horny male presence. It’s faint, like a radio playing in another room, but it’s there. It’s why I knew it was you at the door. I felt the echo… resonate.”
She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. It was a strangely companionable gesture. “I don’t feel violated. I feel… like I owe you a favor. You left a piece of yourself here, and I feel like I should treat you like a new found brother. So.” She shrugged, a new, determined glint in her eye. “I’m going to do you a solid. One for the road, since you're about to go back to college and can’t seem to get back in on your own.”
Before I could ask what she meant, she took my hand. “Come on.”
She led me, stunned and silent, to her bedroom. She pointed to the edge of the bed. “Sit.”
I sat. She went to her dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out the leopard print lingerie I’d bought. She gave me a wink, then disappeared into the walk-in closet to change.
When she emerged, my breath caught. The leopard print was even more stunning on her when she wore it with intention. The bralette pushed her breasts up, the high-cut briefs accentuating the curve of her hips. She looked like a predator, confident and sleek.
“Lie back,” she instructed softly.
I did. She knelt on the floor between my knees, her hands deftly undoing my jeans. This was nothing like the frantic, secretive act in my bedroom. This was slow, deliberate, and performed with a masterful skill that had me trembling in seconds. Her mouth was hot and knowing, her hands roaming my thighs and stomach. She took her time, bringing me to the edge twice with torturous skill before pulling back with a soft laugh. “Not yet.”
Then she stood up, shimmied out of the briefs, and climbed onto the bed, straddling me. She guided me inside her, sinking down with a slow, deep sigh that was part pleasure, part relief.
The sex was nothing I had ever experienced. It was passionate but controlled, intense but deeply communicative. She rode me with a powerful, rolling rhythm, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned down, her breasts brushing my chest, and kissed me—a deep, searching kiss that tasted of iced tea and mint. The leopard print lace scraped deliciously against my skin.
“You feel that?” she murmured against my lips, her hips never stopping their movement. “That’s all you. That echo. It’s like I know what you like before you do.”
She was right. Every shift, every touch, was perfectly aligned with my building pleasure. It was as if she was reading the ghost I’d left inside her. The climax, when it hit me, was a cataclysmic wave that tore a raw, guttural shout from my throat. She followed me over a moment later, clenching around me, her own cry muffled in the crook of my neck.
We lay together for a long time, tangled and sweating, the scent of sex and her perfume filling the air. She eventually slipped off me and curled against my side. “A proper goodbye,” she whispered, before her breathing evened out into sleep.
***
I woke up alone in my own bed. The gray light of dawn filtered in. The sheets smelled of my own laundry detergent. For a dizzying moment, I was sure it had all been another impossibly vivid dream.
Then I felt the pleasant ache in my muscles. I saw the faint, smudged trace of lipstick—a peachy nude, Morning Kiss—on my collar.
And I remembered her words. You left a piece of yourself here.
That evening, restless and haunted, I sat on my bedroom floor once more. Not trying to reach for Lydia. Just trying to quiet the echo. My consciousness drifted, untethered, through the familiar walls of my house.
I floated into the master bedroom. My step mom, Ellen, was there, sitting at her vanity in a robe, carefully applying night cream. I hovered, a silent, invisible observer. She hummed a tune from some old musical, her face relaxed and kind in the soft light.
The thought, sudden and unbidden, shimmered in my non-corporeal mind. A new door. A different set of strings to pull. The curiosity, now awakened and fed, was a hungry thing.
I floated closer, watching the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.
The question hung in the ether, heavy with possibility.
Do I want to?
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Calyope is a bisexual witch who has settled down with a normal guy. But when she discovers a magical rune of transformation, she thinks she might have discovered a way to have the best of both worlds.
Calyope was a novice witch. A witch that had recently had a whirlwind romance and married a man who was everything she’d ever wanted. Almost. Despite loving Eric’s masculine body, there were times she found herself wanting something different in bed. She really did enjoy the feel of her husband’s hard cock sliding between her legs. The way he held her down with his powerful body and the long moan he’d make as he erupted inside of her.
She loved it. She really did. And it should have been enough. Except…Calyope was bisexual. And even though she loved her husband’s cock and the feel of his abs and the way he fucked her with such intensity, she found herself missing the touch of a woman. There was just something about the feeling of running her fingers across gentle curves. The inhale of sweet perfume on impossibly soft breasts. The vibrant feminine moans that escaped as she used her tongue to taste a deliciously wet pussy. The feeling of her soft curves. The sweet smells. The taste of pussy on her tongue.
When Calyope chose to marry Eric, she thought she’d given up on those desires. It had been easy at first. Her high sex drive helped her go out of her way to seduce him the moment he got home from work. She would devour him, enticing him to make love in any and every position he wanted. She was his completely. So why was she still having all these fantasies about being in bed with a woman?! And it was only getting worse. The more she thought about what she’d left behind, the more she craved it. This made her feel guilty, because she had a good thing with Eric. He loved her. Had accepted her being a witch with no issues at all. And he worked so hard to help provide for their home. He had too, since he didn’t have an ounce of magical ability himself.
She told herself it was enough and that she should just move forward with her husband and his hot body. And she might have, until an old book of spells suddenly appeared on her doorstep one day. She was very curious who had dropped it off. She thought about doing a trace spell, but forgot the incantation and would have to look it up. But she got distracted from further investigation as she opened the pages. It contained a lot of advanced magic, some that might take years to master. She was about to put it aside, when she came across an intricate rune called ‘Overlaid’ that contained elements of mind control and physical transformation.
Her heart quickened its pace as she read further. To place the rune, a complicated spell must be uttered while placing hands on a person who was willing to be transformed. While chanting, the caster must envision the new shape they want the subject to take, as well as their state of mind. If done properly, a rune would be created on the person that when activated, would overlay their mind and body with a completely new persona.
It could completely alter their mind, giving them the thoughts, feelings and desires implanted by the caster, while also changing their shape, even their gender. Calyope’s heart began to beat faster as she reread the part about changing gender. It was exactly the kind of spell she was looking for that would allow her to have her cake, and be able to fuck it too.
There were two problems though. This was a very risky spell that used borderline dark magic to temporarily alter a person’s thoughts and appearance. But it also required a willing subject. It was one thing to roleplay in the bedroom. This was on another level entirely. Her husband would have to trust her so much!
Had they even been married long enough for her to ask such a thing of Eric? He’d always been so accepting of her, and had thus far been willing to do whatever she wanted to do in the bedroom. If she asked him in just the right way, perhaps with her legs wrapped around him, he’d consent to this wild idea. She grew wet as she thought of asking him for this erotic favor while his big cock was buried in her pussy.
She looked up from the book, suddenly wondering where Eric was. She wanted to fuck him right now! Why was he at work so much of the time?!
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her jump in her seat. Then she heard her husband’s deep sexy voice ask, “Whatchya reading there?”
Calyope suddenly felt very embarrassed, and turned bright red. They were married. She could talk to him about anything. But this was so kinky, so perverted, and she wasn’t sure he was really ready for that conversation. So she lied. “N-nothing you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, well now I have to see!” Eric said, and he lunged for his wife.
Calyoped giggled and shoved the book out of his reach as he landed on top of her. They mock wrestled and clung to each other for several seconds. But then his hands were squeezing her boobs and she was pulling his shirt over his head between needy kisses. “I need you inside me,” she begged.
Eric smirked as he removed his underwear. “Don’t you always.”
It was true. She’d never been disinterested in sex with Eric. Sex with her man was always on the table. Would she still feel that way if he had different parts? If he exchanged his chiseled pecs for a pair of bouncy double D’s, or his hard throbbing cock for a wet and warm pussy?
The thought of it made her grasp his dick and stroke it while she looked up at him and begged. “Please! Shove it in. Right now!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. Then he tenderly lay her down on the floor, and pushed into her.
“Fuck!” she howled, loving the initial moment of penetration. “Yeah. Give it to me hard baby! Just the way I like it!”
Thoughts of telling him about the transformation rune vanished from her mind. All she could think of was how good his cock felt. Her brain grew wonderfully fuzzy with each thrust, and all she could think to do was wrap her legs around his torso and to pull him deeper.
She came before he did. She always did.
As Eric watched her scream in ecstasy, he said, “Oh fuck! That’ll do it!” He grunted and moaned as he shot inside his wife.
He rolled off and lay beside her on their living room floor, both panting from the sudden but wonderful exertion.
“Not complaining, but what brought that on?” Eric finally asked.
“Um…well, uh, I found a new spell…” Calyope said shyly.
‘Oh yeah?” Eric said bemused. “What kind of spell?”
Calyope decided to just rip the bandaid. She shut her eyes tight and said, “It lets you transform a person!”
Eric laughed. “Want me to have an even bigger dick, is that it?”
“No!” Calyope clarified quickly. “Your dick is perfect!” And she really meant it. She loved his cock the way it was. It fit her perfectly. Stretched her out in all the right ways, like it was made for her. But, if Eric were also a woman, they’d just be getting STARTED with their lovemaking. “This would be transforming you…in other ways. I’d really be swapping out your dick with…something else…” She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath. She was so nervous about telling him, but it was right there.
After a moment of confused silence, Eric asked, “Swap it out for what?”
“Well…You know how I also like girls, right?”
“I am aware,” Eric said, wisely choking down a laugh as he realized how hard this was for his wife to say.
“This spell would let me change you into a woman.”
“A woman?!” Eric repeated with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Not permanently or anything! Just like, it puts a magical rune on your skin, like a tattoo. And whenever I activate the rune, I could turn you into a girl, and back again, whenever I, er, WE, wanted to.” There was more to it, but she decided to leave out the fact that it also altered the mind. “The spell says the subject must be willing to have it placed on you. So, you’d have to give me consent, and I completely understand if you need time to think about it, and I’ll still love you if you say no so don’t think that you have to-”
“I’m down,” he said, cutting her off with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope’s breath caught as her husband just casually agreed to let her fuse a rune to his skin that would allow her to radically change him! She again thought about letting him know that she’d be able to change his thoughts and personality, but didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind. She told herself he wouldn’t care, because he’d so quickly agreed. He wanted to make her happy. And during the times he was a girl, she’d definitely go out of her way to make him happy as well.
Eric interrupted her by asking, “So, do you want to do this now or…”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It was amazing enough that he was willing to do it, but even sweeter that he was willing to do it immediately. She reached out to play with his short dark hair. “That’s incredibly sweet, but no, not now.”
She noticed his expression change to one of disappointment, so she hastened to explain, “I’ll need time to read over the spell. It’s a long and tricky one and I don’t want to botch it. Plus, I’ll want to think of the type of…um…,” she felt her cheeks turning pink again. “...body I’d like you to have as a girl.”
Eric grinned. “Oh yeah? You got certain attributes in mind?” He looked down at his impressive chest and abs. “Thinking of turning my pecs into some nice round melons you can suck on? Boy, that’d be so weird, but like, yeah, it’d be cool to have your mouth there on a couple of big titties.”
That kind of talk really got Calyope’s motor running. She didn’t admit that was the first thing she’d thought about, but instead picked a more aesthetic detail. “Well, I mean, I love your hair color, but I’d just make it a little longer. Like shoulder length, and straight. I’d round out your face a bit, making it more feminine. Ooh, I’d give you full, luscious lips. And then…” Her eyes drifted down her husband’s body as very vivid details flooded her thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Eric moved a hand between his wife’s legs and began to gently finger her. “Please, keep going. Tell me how else you’d turn me into your dream girl.”
“Oh, uh…” she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk as her husband’s skilled fingers went to work. She placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “You’re…you’re right about me swapping out your chest. It’s a really hot chest babe, but…yeah…I’d love to see what it looks like with a pair of double D’s. I’d make them so sensitive that if I just breathed on them, you’d be begging me to suck on them.”
Eric laughed. “I would, huh? Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
As her mind became consumed with lust, she thought to herself, ‘You wouldn’t have a choice. I’ll turn you into a horny slut that wants my mouth all over your new body.”
Her hand drifted down his abs, and came to his dick, which was semi hard and slippery with their combined juices. “I’d shrink this until it became a slit. A perfect little pussy that I could lick as much as I wanted, making you scream for more.”
“Is that all?” Eric asked, knowing his wife was almost to the brink of climax by the way she was breathing and moving her hips in time with his fingers.
“I’d make you just a little shorter than me!” she cried out. “And I’d make you-Oh fuck! I’d make you my perverted little sex slave! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Ooh!” The powerful orgasm made her shake from head to toe.
When she was finally able to relax, Eric pulled her close and they cuddled. He whispered gently in her ear, “Are you sure you can’t do that spell on me now?”
She laughed softly. “I think I need to get the dishes put away and dinner started,” she said.
Eric said nothing for a moment, then shrugged and said a playful, “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet. With a playful swat on her butt he said, “Get to work.”
Her mouth fell open in mock surprise, but then she giggled, and went off to do the housework.
The next few days were a blur, because everytime she had a chance, Calyope was thinking about that spell. Putting eyes on it. Sounding it out. Imagining the ideal feminine shape her husband would become, and the personality she would make him have. She was becoming obsessed, and could think of little else while she did her daily chores. It certainly made them easier.
She thought a tiny bit about maybe altering Eric’s mind to not just be a sex slave, but also be willing to do some of the mundane chores that she did every day. She didn’t mind doing them for her husband. It was part of how she showed her love and devotion to him. But she did wish he’d help out around the house a little more. The vast majority of her thoughts though, were imagining the raven haired beauty he would become, and then making that goddess put her pretty mouth between her legs.
Despite her perverted obsession, it was actually her husband that mentioned using the spell again. She’d been lost in another fantasy while the dishes magically washed, dried, and put away themselves, when her husband pressed himself against her from behind.
“How’s that rune spell coming along, Calyope? Are you ready to turn me into a sexy woman yet?”
Calyope felt his rod twitch against her ass. She instinctively pushed back, wanting to feel it slide between her cheeks. Since she was only wearing an apron, she got her wish. The delightful sensation of that hard cock made her lose her magical concentration though, and a dish crashed to the floor. “Oh shoot,” she pouted, as her husband withdrew behind her. She made a motion with her finger and the dish repaired itself and sailed into the cupboard.
“Sorry,” about that,” she heard her thoughtful husband say.
“She spun around and said, “I think I’m ready.” Goodness knows she needed to be. She needed to alleviate the sexual tension that seemed to be building exponentially inside of her as she thought about turning her husband into a woman. It had felt all consuming these last few days. “I’ve been studying it every time I get a free moment, and should have all the words memorized, so I think we should, um…” she trailed off as she realized how eager she sounded.
Eric laughed. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about it a lot. Every time I look at you while you’re doing your chores, or we’re eating, or, well, after we’re done fucking, you get that faraway look in your eye that makes me think you’re thinking about transforming me into your lesbian lover.”
“Busted,” she giggled, as she looked her husband up and down, undressing him with her eyes and fantasizing about the new curves he’d soon have.
“So where do you want to do this?” he asked curiously. The way his wife was looking at him made him feel like a slab of meat being dangled in front of a hungry lion. He didn’t mind in the least.
“How about upstairs in the bedroom,” Calyope suggested excitedly. “And I’ll need to make contact with you for the spell, so why don’t you just-”
“Get naked,” Eric finished with a wide grin.
Calyope winked at him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, babe,” he said, winking back.
They raced upstairs. As soon as Eric walked in, he pulled off his shirt. Calyope found herself staring at his toned body, and for a moment, thought about scrapping the spell and just taking his male self right then and there.
He saw her gawking as he pulled off his pants and underwear. She was now staring right at his rigid cock that was pointing straight at her. He snapped his fingers and said, “My eyes are up here, love. I know you love this cock, but let’s try to focus,” he teased, then twisted his body side to side so his dick slapped against his torso.
Calyope felt like she was being hypnotized by the motion of that big beautiful cock. Drool had formed in her mouth. Drool that she could use to slobber all over his impressive man meat with her tongue. She shook her head and closed her eyes. She really did need to focus! She had her husband’s permission, and knew the spell pretty well. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, because who knew, tomorrow he might change his mind.
She stepped directly in front of him, and put the fingertips of her right hand onto his stomach. She could feel the tight muscles there. His body was lean and calloused and tough. Everything she wanted in her man. She almost pushed him down onto the bed so she could fuck him, but with an extra bit of willpower, she began a slow and steady chant. As she did, she put every thought into the woman she wanted him to become.
She pictured a slightly shorter physique than herself. One with shoulder length jet black hair, pouty lips, and a round face. This woman would have large, bouncy breasts, almost but not quite as big as her own. Her body would be a vision of seductive curves and soft skin. She would have a neatly trimmed bush, and an always wet and sensitive pussy.
Calyope’s thoughts turned from the physical to the mental. She knew this would reshape her husband’s mind, but she did not hesitate as she thought how this transformed woman would always desire to have sex with Calyope. She would find ways to seduce Calyope, and be willing to beg for the chance to get between her legs. And housework. She’d want to help with chores and making meals. But most importantly, she’d be a kinky slut, coming up with new and exciting ways to get each other off!
That last thought turned her on so much it threatened to distract her, and she stumbled over a few of the words. She looked down at her fingertips and was disheartened to see no rune had formed. She wondered if her carelessness had ruined her first attempt.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” Eric assured her, and put his hand atop hers encouragingly as she started saying the spell again.
Calyope put all her concentration into it this time. She tuned everything else out as she thought only about the words and the manifestation of her fantasy woman.
Slowly but surely, she felt the spark of magic against Eric’s skin. She looked down, and saw a glowing line etched itself from the top of her middle finger, to the other places her fingertips touched. She became excited as a perfect circle began to form, and inside that circle, a combined symbol of an arrow and a cross that represented the masculine and feminine. As Calyope finished the chant, it glowed brightly, and then faded. But the rune remained. A permanent magical brand on her husband’s stomach.
Eric’s brow furrowed, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. He looked down at himself, and asked with obvious disappointment, “Shouldn’t I be a girl now?”
“Not yet,” Calyope said, and licked her lips. “Now that the rune’s there, I should be able to turn you into a girl whenever I want. No lengthy spell, just a touch, and a one word command.”
“Well go ahead then, babe,” Eric said in his deep voice as he struck out his chest and did a superhero pose. “Let me help you make your bisexual dreams come true.”
Calyope bounced up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. Then she put her hand on the rune, and said, “Transform.”
The rune did not glow, but just remained a faint mark on his skin. “I don’t know what’s wrong? That should have worked!” she said. “Let me consult the-”
But before she could run and get the spell book, Eric took her hand again, and placed it over hers on his stomach. “Maybe I have to help show the magic that I’m willing? I am. I am willing,” he said, looking down at his stomach. “Let’s try again, at the same time. Ready?”
Calyope nodded and said, “Okay. On the count of three, let’s both of us say it. One, two, three…”
Simultaneously, husband and wife both said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed bright on Eric’s stomach.
“I think something’s happening!” Eric said excitedly as his skin began to ripple up and down his body.
“It sure is,” Calyope exclaimed. She stepped back from her husband, and watched with wide eyed fascination as he shrank from his 6 foot 2 self, to about 5 foot 9. This was apparent to Calyope, because it was still an inch taller than her own self. That wasn’t quite to her specifications, but it could be amended at a later time.
Eric’s brown hair darkened until it was jet black, then ran down to his shoulders like a waterfall cascading down from his head. His lips became fuller, his face rounder and softer. His broad chest shifted, narrowing first and becoming slimmer. Then his right pectoral began to protrude. It blossomed into a round jiggly boob.
This caused Eric to chuckle as he reached his hand up to it and gave it a squeeze. He looked at his wife, and saw how much she was enjoying the show. He blew her a kiss, right before a left boob popped out before Calyope’s eyes.
He suddenly shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his crotch. Calyope followed his gaze, and saw his erect penis shrink rapidly into his body, leaving only a slit with a tuft of dark curly hair barely covering it.
“Oh wow, that transformation process feels good!” Eric gasped in a high pitched voice as his smaller hand dipped down to his new pussy.
Calyope was glad that her husband wasn’t mourning the loss of his favorite member. She assumed this was part of the spell, helping him embrace the changes by spiking his lust. She remembered that soon he should be up for anything if the spell did its job.
“Oh!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. “Something else is getting bigger!” He gave a slow turn so his wife could see his hips widen, and his ass expand into a round plump butt that had Calyope drooling. He gave it a shake, and giggled as it clapped. “Certainly a lot more exciting than my flat ass, wouldn’t you say, babe?”
Calyope took a step towards him, as if entranced by the wobble of his new sexy butt.
Eric giggled again and said, “I take it you like what you see?”
“I really do,” Calyope said sincerely as Eric finished a slow spin. She saw that the rune on his stomach had faded into a faint, black outline, a reminder that she’d be able to turn him back to her masculine husband whenever she wanted. But right now, she wanted, no, NEEDED to touch every inch of his feminine skin with her fingertips. And then her tongue.
“This spell is incredible,” she whispered as she put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You look nothing like your original self, Eric! I wouldn’t even know you were my husband if I hadn’t seen you transform before my very eyes.”
When Eric responded, his new high girly voice was silky and seductive. “As long as I look like this, Cal, why don’t you call me Erica.”
“Yeah,” Calyope said, bringing her face closer and closer to her husband’s pouty lips. “Erica.”
And then they were kissing. It was not the kissing of two people that have never kissed each other before. Nor the kind that expresses comfortable familiarity. No. This was rather like the kind where two people have been desperate for each other in the worst way and are finally allowed to express their pent up feelings physically.
Hands groped greedily. Lips migrated from lips to necks to shoulders to breasts. They each attacked each other’s bodies like this would be their only opportunity. What made Calyope so infinitely happy, other than Erica’s sweet moans, was that it wouldn’t be. She could live out her lesbian fantasy a million times over, all because of how wonderfully willing her husband was.
“You want to lick this pink pussy of mine, right?” Erica suddenly asked, interrupting Calyope’s thoughts.
“I do!” she squealed. Erica smiled wantonly and laid back on the bed. The raven haired beauty parted her legs, and moved her fingers in a downward V to spread her lips open. Calyope saw her folds were already glistening with desire. Calyope got on her knees and bent low. She began by kissing up Erica’s inner thigh, letting the passion between them escalate. Then her lips were kissing a pussy that had been molded and shaped just for her. She extended her tongue, and tasted a divine salty tartness that was instantly addictive.
Calyope giggled into her lover as Erica began to moan and squirm. She popped her head up and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great!” Erica replied, and then put her hand on top of Calyope’s head. “But don’t stop!”
Calyope squealed happily as her mouth was shoved back into Erica’s dripping cunt.
For the first time that Calyope could remember, her husband came before she did. Turns out all he needed for that to happen, was a clit. Even after Erica squirted in her face, Calyope found she didn’t want to stop licking. “You taste so good baby! And I gotta say, I think I prefer my face coated with your pussy juice than your cum.”
Erica giggled. “Thank you? I think? You really do have an amazing tongue by the way.”
“Do you wanna try yours out?” Calyope asked as she dropped next to her.
Erica pushed herself up and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Caloype was keenly aware of the lack of stubble as Erica’s face brushed against her inner thighs. There was only soft, smooth skin. And then a tongue. It was smaller than Eric’s, but there was a sensuality about it that made Calyope arch her back as it began to lick up and down her folds. “You’re my girlfriend!” she moaned.
A soft laugh reverberated between Calyope’s legs, and then her perfect woman looked up and said, “No, I’m your wife.”
A thrill of delight went through Calyope’s whole body, and Erica didn’t stop until she’d given Calyope everything she’d been hoping for.
The session lasted a very long time, and by the end, they were a sweaty, happy mess. The last thing Calyope thought before she drifted off to sleep was how different it was with a woman. It wasn’t a sprint, but a marathon.
The next several days whizzed by for Calyope. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of sex, and she loved it. The second Eric got home Calyope would turn him into Erica, and they’d make each other climax several times, and then a very tired Calyope would finish her chores while Erica basked in the afterglow. After dinner, Erica would change back to Eric, and fill Calyope’s pussy with strong, powerful thrusts. It was a very good routine, and it might have lasted a good deal longer, had Calyope not made an important discovery.
It happened a month after Erica had been introduced into their lives. Calyope had decided to get up early and shower with her ‘wife.’ She’d showered with Eric many times, but never in the morning before he left for work, because she hated getting up early. She LOVED sleep. She often felt like she could sleep the whole day away. In so many ways, her day really didn’t begin until her husband got back home. That was why she always felt behind on chores, because she so often didn’t start them until Eric got back home.
But she’d been thinking about showering with Erica. She wanted to soap up those beautiful curves. To let her fingers glide over those most intimate of areas while making them smell sweet and fragrant. She’d climaxed last night while thinking about it, while her husband had been inside of her. It was something naughty she often liked to do. To think about the ‘other lover’ that wasn’t there with her while she came.
The opportunity finally arrived when Eric’s alarm actually woke up her that one morning. He was still Erica. Calyope realized she’d forgotten to change Erica back to Eric last night, but Calyope did love the sight of her wife sitting up in bed and stretching. It was a fantastic view. She wanted to pull the busty vixen back down into the bed and begin kissing and licking her all over that curvy figure. But she knew time was of the essence. “I want to shower with you,” she said, placing a hand lovingly on the small of Erica’s back.
Erica yelped at Calyope’s voice, and looked back at her in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to see her in their bed. “Oh, shit. Uh, sorry Cal..yope. I totally forgot to, um…”
“It’s okay, I’m up!” she beamed. “I’ll go heat up the water.” She looked back at Erica from the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna transform you back yet until AFTER the shower,” she giggled.
Erica watched Calyope’s cute butt all the way down the hall to their bathroom. She bit her lower lip and said, “Well, I guess a quick shower won’t hurt.”
She heard the sound of water running. And then a scream.
Erica leapt off the bed and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the doorframe, she cried, “What? What’s the matter? You see a mouse?”
Calyope was still facing the shower. But her head was turned towards the mirror, and her eyes were laser focused on something there. She pointed a shaky hand towards her reflection. She didn’t understand why she had one too. It was smaller, but it was there. On her left butt cheek, was a circular rune with the symbol for masculine and feminine.
“I don’t remember putting a copy of the rune on myself,” she whispered.
Erica sighed and folded her arms. “That’s cause you didn’t put it there, sweetie. I did.”
Calyope finally looked away from the mirror, and turned to face Erica. She was so confused. “But…how could you? You can’t do magic?”
Erica gave her a pitying look and said gently. “No, dear. You’re the one that can’t do magic.” WIth a sudden flick of her wrist, a toothbrush sailed into the air and Erica deftly caught it.
Calyope stared at it in disbelief, not just at the magic on display from her husband/wife, but because the toothbrush…looked like a woman’s toothbrush. She looked at the other toothbrush next to the sink. It was a man’s toothbrush. And a chill went down Calyope’s spine, as she could never remember brushing her teeth. Like, ever.
She began taking panicked, shallow breaths. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she gasped. She flicked her wrist at the other toothbrush. It did not move. Not even a little. “N-no. No I use magic all the ti-WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER EVER DOING CERTAIN THINGS LIKE BRUSHING MY TEETH?!”
Erica held up her hands soothingly and said, “Darling, relax. Let me just…let me talk to my husband, and we’ll straighten this all-”
Calyope’s hands shot down to her sides and clenched into fists as she shrieked, “Your husband?!”
Erica grimaced. “Yeah, this was…well it was his idea. And he’s…inside of you.”
This revelation stunned Calyope to her very core, which gave Erica the time she needed to step forward and hug her. Then she placed a hand on Calyope’s right buttcheek, and said, “Transform.”
_______________________________________________________
Three months ago.
“So, do you know like, transformation magic?” Calvin asked as they laid in bed after another passionate night unbridled lovemaking.
Erica giggled and hit her husband on the arm. “You sick of my body already?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just like…I’m wondering if you could transform me? I know you also like girls, and I know that you gave that up that part of you when we got married. But…what if you didn’t have to. What if you could transform me into your ‘wife’ sometimes?”
Erica squeezed her man. “And then I transform into a handsome guy with muscular pecs and come home from work and give you the business?”
“Oh…” Calvin uttered curiously. “I mean…I hadn’t thought of that, but…”
“You’d let me fuck you with a dick?” Erica said, mouth opened in a wide grin.
“No! I mean…maybe.”
“No lie, dear, that actually sounds kinda hot.”
“Wait, wait. I’m not sure I’d want to be able to remember something like that. Is there like, memory magic you could use as well?”
Erica licked her lips, then said, “I actually may know of a spell that is exactly what we’re looking for babe. Just remember, this was all your idea.”
_____________________________________________________
Present Day
The panic left Calvin’s body as he returned to his original self. The weight from his former boobs was distributed mainly to his belly. He was not the ripped male version that his wife became, but a rather ordinary looking guy. The memories began to rush in from his time as Caloyope.
“You didn’t change me back last night,” he said.
“I know, I know,” Erica said, letting him go. She stepped past him and turned off the shower. “We let this go on too long, Cal. She’s become like, a whole different person.”
That had been Cal’s decision too. To be transformed into Calyope more and more throughout the week. Erica didn’t complain, because Cal was an amazing lover as a woman, plus he didn’t mind that his wife had instilled within him a desire to take care of the house, because he felt a disconnect to it. It was helping her, helping him, and they’d been fucking like rabbits in different gender combinations. There had seemed to be no downside. Until now. Calyope had become aware of the transformation rune, and that had led to her feeling like she wasn’t a whole person. And in a way, maybe she wasn’t. She only appeared when they wanted her to. She didn’t get to remember anything beyond those few hours she was allowed to exist. Cal could remember, but not her.
“This is my fault,” Erica said. “I should have paid attention to the precautions. I can have the rune removed.”
Cal’s face fell. “No. No please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Calyope means so much to you. So much to me.”
Erica hugged her husband. She was glad he felt this way. Calyope really had become a part of their family. “Give me some time to think. Maybe…maybe there’s something we can do, but I’ll need to research some spell books.”
They held each other, and finally parted ways. Cal going to work. Erica doing the same. She worked at an apothecary, one that had many magical recipes and spellbooks, which she would dive into today, looking for an answer to the mess they’d made.
A week later, the husband and wife reconvened in the bathroom again. They were both naked as if they were about to shower, but Calvin was just watching his wife use her finger to make a large circle over the mirror. Then she took out a sharp stone and began scratching the surface, carving small symbols into it. When it was done, she placed her hand upon it, and said a lengthy spell she’d been memorizing for the last few days. The mirror glowed, and then looked like a regular mirror again, except it didn’t reflect as it once had. It still showed Erica, but as Calvin looked at it, he saw Calyope. But her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be asleep.
“Okay,” Erica said, assessing the small bathroom. “It’s time. Stand right where she was when she got transformed last time. Let’s try to make this as comfortable for her as possible.”
Calvin put his back to the shower, and Erica put her arms around him. “I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Erica put a hand on her husband’s fuzzy butt, and said, “Transform.”
A few seconds later, Calyope sucked in a huge breath. Her ‘wife’s’ arms were still around as they had been when she felt herself blank out. She fought the urge to panic. “Let me go,” she said firmly.
Erica did, but then quickly said, “Calyope, we both owe you an apology.”
“Was any of it real?!” she demanded.
Erica hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was very real, Calyope. But what we did to you wasn’t right. But we think we’ve-”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we?’” Calyope spat. She was so mad, but not just at Erica. She was also mad at herself, because even now the sight of Erica was turning her on. She wanted to kiss her soft lips, and get her mouth between her legs and taste her. She now assumed that this desire was also a part of that rune.
Erica noted the woman’s mixed emotions, but instead of commenting on them, she pointed to the mirror and said quietly, “Calyope, meet your other half, Calvin.”
Calyope looked from Erica to the mirror, expecting to see her and Erica reflected in its surface. But she was mistaken. There was Erica, yes, but instead of Calyope, there was a man where she should be. A man that, in certain aspects, vaguely resembled Calyope herself. Same sandy brown hair color. Same chin. Same eyes.
“Nice to meet you officially,” the reflection of Cal suddenly said, which caused Calyope to jump. The man put his palms out in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, sorry, don’t be scared. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you, cause, well, I am you. Erica magicked up this mirror especially for us, so we could talk. It’s very important that you know, Calyope, that you’ve made Erica so happy these last few months.”
“It’s true,” Erica said.
Calyope frowned and looked towards Erica. “I haven’t known you for months,” she countered. “I’ve only known Eric. You know, the person I thought was my husband.”
“Would having him here with you make you more comfortable?” Erica interjected.
Calyope met the woman’s eyes, and nodded sadly. “Yeah. It’d help.” Eric had been her rock. The person she’d do absolutely anything for. She knew this was also probably part of the spell, but just the thought of seeing him calmed her a little.
Erica put a hand to her own overlaid rune and said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed, and Erica’s soft supple form grew taller and became muscular. Her smooth belly gained those chiseled abs that made Calyope go weak in the knees. And suddenly there was his handsome face, looking at her in concern. She threw herself into his strong arms, and he held her tight and patted her head.
“There, there, it’s okay, dear,” he said.
For a few precious seconds, Calyope allowed herself to melt into him. “Do you remember being her?” she finally asked her husband.
He gave her a pitying look. “Um, yes, but…”
“That’s not fair that you get to!” she protested. Then she turned on her male counterpart in the mirror. “Do you remember being me?”
“Also yes,” Calvin admitted. “But for different reasons.”
Calyope looked up into her husband’s dark eyes. She found she wanted to kiss him. To grind against his body until he grew hard, picked her up, and fucked her against the bathroom wall. She tried to keep focused. “What’s he talking about? Why do you both get to remember?”
“Well,” Eric confessed. “I’m still…Erica. Even when I’m Eric, I’m still me. I used the overlaid rune to transform from female to male, but otherwise there were no changes.”
Calyope’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But…you act like a guy when you look like this.” She put a hand on his chest. Being this close to him was having quite the effect on her. If Erica’s body had made her horny, Eric’s body was having even more of an impact.
She looked at her male counterpart while her hand kept descending down to those abs she loved so much. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The magic of the rune allows me to remember everything you thought and did when I transform back,” Cal explained. “It doesn’t feel quite like I was there, but it’s certainly close enough that I feel that you’re a huge part of me.”
Calyope couldn’t stop her hand from going lower as she said, “But that’s not fair. I should be able to feel the same way. I should get to remember being married to Erica, and living your life, and all of it.”
“You’re right,” Cal said. “You’re absolutely right. And the reason Erica and I brought you back, was to tell you that she’s got a way to…” Eric gasped as Calyope’s hand touched the tip of his penis, and Cal noticed. “Um…do I need to give you guys a second?”
Calyope licked her lips as she looked down at Eric’s throbbing member. Then she looked at Cal in the mirror. “Do you remember every time I’ve gone down on my husband?” she asked coolly.
“I…do…” Cal said tentatively. “But, like I said, it’s like remembering something that happened to somebody else. And I certainly don’t dwell on it.”
“Well you’re about to see it,” Calyope said as she began sinking to her knees.
Cal looked at his wife’s Eric persona. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the body that his wife had. He looked at her and said, “Look, I’m glad this is working out, but could you take this to the other room.”
Eric shook his head and as he put a hand on top of Calyope’s. “No honey. It’s so much hotter if you’re here to watch your pretty little mouth suck my dick. You can take it so deep too!”
“Yeah, I can absolutely do without the play by play.” But he did watch as Calyope took the cock in her mouth with no hesitation. She sucked it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she began to moan and rub her clit as she did so. “Fuck, that IS hot,” he finally admitted.
“I knew you’d like to watch you little perv,” Eric groaned. “But I know my precious Calyope. THIS is what she really wants.” With that he lifted her up in his strong arms, pinned her to the wall, and impaled her pussy with his thick cock.
“Yes!” Calyope screamed. “I love you so much, Eric!”
“I love you too, Calyope!”
A moment later, Cal said, “We both do.”
Calyope came hard a minute later. When she did, she knew that her sensitive pussy was a gift from Erica. She bucked her hips and clawed at Eric’s back until he came inside her. When he put her down, she asked, “So…what now?”
Eric kissed her and said, “Now we give you what Calvin has always had. The ability to remember. You’ll remember being him the way he remembers being you.”
“What about some of the other things? Will those change too?”
“What other things?” Calvin asked.
“I’m guessing she means the desire to cook and clean for me.”
“Yeah!” Calyope pouted.
“Ooh, yeah, that was my idea,” Cal admitted.
“Or the fact that just the sight of either of your forms makes me go into heat,” Calyope added.
“Uh, I didn’t actually do that one,” Eric laughed.
“I mean, she is hot as a guy or a girl,” Cal agreed.
“Oh, you want some of this too?” Eric winked, stroking his slippery cock.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass, but thanks. I already have plenty of memories of tasting it and having that enormous thing shoved in me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Calyope suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll get to remember fucking you with a dick?!”
Eric hugged her. “Yes, you will, sweetie. But as for the other stuff…well, I’m afraid to redo the rune to make you not want to cook and clean and think you have magic, that won’t go away. Not unless I redid the rune, which…would make the version that is you, go away.”
“Well I don’t want that!” she said quickly. “And I don’t mind too much cooking and cleaning. It is how I’ve always shown you I love you.”
“Again, my idea,” Calvin said.
“Shut it, husband,” Eric snapped playfully.
“Whose idea was it to let me see the book with the overlaid rune?” Calyope asked curiously.
“Oh, that was mine!” Eric answered proudly. “After you brought up wanting to be with a woman, I knew there was a part of you that missed, well, the real me. And that was confirmed when you described me. I thought it would be fun-”
Cal coughed in the mirror.
“Sorry, WE thought it would be fun if we played this out, and…yeah, it was really hot, but we’re both sorry if we ever hurt-”
“Shh,” Calyope whispered, as she put a finger on her husband’s lips. “I’m still really horny. So, I think I’d be fine if…”
“I changed back into your ‘wife’?’” Eric suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope bit her lip. “Yes please.”
Eric swooped up his bride and looked at Cal’s reflection. “You’re gonna enjoy remembering all the kinky lesbian shit we’re about to do, dear.”
Calvin laughed and waved at them. “I know I will. Have fun you two.”
Calyope squealed as Eric ran from the bathroom and threw her onto their bed. He was Erica a moment later, and she dove between Calyope’s legs and began lapping up the cum that had just been deposited by her male self. The two were insatiable all day, and Eric made many guest appearances.
Calvin and Calyope settled into new routines where they shared their time with Erica/Eric, but also loved remembering how happy the other made their spouse.
There are certainly more hijinks to their story, like the one where Calyope got a temporary body from a gollum that Erica created. But that is another story altogether.
The end.
Author's Note
Sorry for my long absence. I hope you enjoyed this new story. The inspiration for it came from the show Severance, and I enjoyed applying the concept of playing it out with a twist with this happily married couple. If you'd like to see more of their story, let me know. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Next up though will be more Working Remotely.
Thank you to all my supporters. After I add the next chapter of Working Remotely, you'll be the ones to decide what I work on next.
Calyope was a novice witch. A witch that had recently had a whirlwind romance and married a man who was everything she’d ever wanted. Almost. Despite loving Eric’s masculine body, there were times she found herself wanting something different in bed. She really did enjoy the feel of her husband’s hard cock sliding between her legs. The way he held her down with his powerful body and the long moan he’d make as he erupted inside of her.
She loved it. She really did. And it should have been enough. Except…Calyope was bisexual. And even though she loved her husband’s cock and the feel of his abs and the way he fucked her with such intensity, she found herself missing the touch of a woman. There was just something about the feeling of running her fingers across gentle curves. The inhale of sweet perfume on impossibly soft breasts. The vibrant feminine moans that escaped as she used her tongue to taste a deliciously wet pussy. The feeling of her soft curves. The sweet smells. The taste of pussy on her tongue.
When Calyope chose to marry Eric, she thought she’d given up on those desires. It had been easy at first. Her high sex drive helped her go out of her way to seduce him the moment he got home from work. She would devour him, enticing him to make love in any and every position he wanted. She was his completely. So why was she still having all these fantasies about being in bed with a woman?! And it was only getting worse. The more she thought about what she’d left behind, the more she craved it. This made her feel guilty, because she had a good thing with Eric. He loved her. Had accepted her being a witch with no issues at all. And he worked so hard to help provide for their home. He had too, since he didn’t have an ounce of magical ability himself.
She told herself it was enough and that she should just move forward with her husband and his hot body. And she might have, until an old book of spells suddenly appeared on her doorstep one day. She was very curious who had dropped it off. She thought about doing a trace spell, but forgot the incantation and would have to look it up. But she got distracted from further investigation as she opened the pages. It contained a lot of advanced magic, some that might take years to master. She was about to put it aside, when she came across an intricate rune called ‘Overlaid’ that contained elements of mind control and physical transformation.
Her heart quickened its pace as she read further. To place the rune, a complicated spell must be uttered while placing hands on a person who was willing to be transformed. While chanting, the caster must envision the new shape they want the subject to take, as well as their state of mind. If done properly, a rune would be created on the person that when activated, would overlay their mind and body with a completely new persona.
It could completely alter their mind, giving them the thoughts, feelings and desires implanted by the caster, while also changing their shape, even their gender. Calyope’s heart began to beat faster as she reread the part about changing gender. It was exactly the kind of spell she was looking for that would allow her to have her cake, and be able to fuck it too.
There were two problems though. This was a very risky spell that used borderline dark magic to temporarily alter a person’s thoughts and appearance. But it also required a willing subject. It was one thing to roleplay in the bedroom. This was on another level entirely. Her husband would have to trust her so much!
Had they even been married long enough for her to ask such a thing of Eric? He’d always been so accepting of her, and had thus far been willing to do whatever she wanted to do in the bedroom. If she asked him in just the right way, perhaps with her legs wrapped around him, he’d consent to this wild idea. She grew wet as she thought of asking him for this erotic favor while his big cock was buried in her pussy.
She looked up from the book, suddenly wondering where Eric was. She wanted to fuck him right now! Why was he at work so much of the time?!
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her jump in her seat. Then she heard her husband’s deep sexy voice ask, “Whatchya reading there?”
Calyope suddenly felt very embarrassed, and turned bright red. They were married. She could talk to him about anything. But this was so kinky, so perverted, and she wasn’t sure he was really ready for that conversation. So she lied. “N-nothing you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, well now I have to see!” Eric said, and he lunged for his wife.
Calyoped giggled and shoved the book out of his reach as he landed on top of her. They mock wrestled and clung to each other for several seconds. But then his hands were squeezing her boobs and she was pulling his shirt over his head between needy kisses. “I need you inside me,” she begged.
Eric smirked as he removed his underwear. “Don’t you always.”
It was true. She’d never been disinterested in sex with Eric. Sex with her man was always on the table. Would she still feel that way if he had different parts? If he exchanged his chiseled pecs for a pair of bouncy double D’s, or his hard throbbing cock for a wet and warm pussy?
The thought of it made her grasp his dick and stroke it while she looked up at him and begged. “Please! Shove it in. Right now!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. Then he tenderly lay her down on the floor, and pushed into her.
“Fuck!” she howled, loving the initial moment of penetration. “Yeah. Give it to me hard baby! Just the way I like it!”
Thoughts of telling him about the transformation rune vanished from her mind. All she could think of was how good his cock felt. Her brain grew wonderfully fuzzy with each thrust, and all she could think to do was wrap her legs around his torso and to pull him deeper.
She came before he did. She always did.
As Eric watched her scream in ecstasy, he said, “Oh fuck! That’ll do it!” He grunted and moaned as he shot inside his wife.
He rolled off and lay beside her on their living room floor, both panting from the sudden but wonderful exertion.
“Not complaining, but what brought that on?” Eric finally asked.
“Um…well, uh, I found a new spell…” Calyope said shyly.
‘Oh yeah?” Eric said bemused. “What kind of spell?”
Calyope decided to just rip the bandaid. She shut her eyes tight and said, “It lets you transform a person!”
Eric laughed. “Want me to have an even bigger dick, is that it?”
“No!” Calyope clarified quickly. “Your dick is perfect!” And she really meant it. She loved his cock the way it was. It fit her perfectly. Stretched her out in all the right ways, like it was made for her. But, if Eric were also a woman, they’d just be getting STARTED with their lovemaking. “This would be transforming you…in other ways. I’d really be swapping out your dick with…something else…” She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath. She was so nervous about telling him, but it was right there.
After a moment of confused silence, Eric asked, “Swap it out for what?”
“Well…You know how I also like girls, right?”
“I am aware,” Eric said, wisely choking down a laugh as he realized how hard this was for his wife to say.
“This spell would let me change you into a woman.”
“A woman?!” Eric repeated with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Not permanently or anything! Just like, it puts a magical rune on your skin, like a tattoo. And whenever I activate the rune, I could turn you into a girl, and back again, whenever I, er, WE, wanted to.” There was more to it, but she decided to leave out the fact that it also altered the mind. “The spell says the subject must be willing to have it placed on you. So, you’d have to give me consent, and I completely understand if you need time to think about it, and I’ll still love you if you say no so don’t think that you have to-”
“I’m down,” he said, cutting her off with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope’s breath caught as her husband just casually agreed to let her fuse a rune to his skin that would allow her to radically change him! She again thought about letting him know that she’d be able to change his thoughts and personality, but didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind. She told herself he wouldn’t care, because he’d so quickly agreed. He wanted to make her happy. And during the times he was a girl, she’d definitely go out of her way to make him happy as well.
Eric interrupted her by asking, “So, do you want to do this now or…”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It was amazing enough that he was willing to do it, but even sweeter that he was willing to do it immediately. She reached out to play with his short dark hair. “That’s incredibly sweet, but no, not now.”
She noticed his expression change to one of disappointment, so she hastened to explain, “I’ll need time to read over the spell. It’s a long and tricky one and I don’t want to botch it. Plus, I’ll want to think of the type of…um…,” she felt her cheeks turning pink again. “...body I’d like you to have as a girl.”
Eric grinned. “Oh yeah? You got certain attributes in mind?” He looked down at his impressive chest and abs. “Thinking of turning my pecs into some nice round melons you can suck on? Boy, that’d be so weird, but like, yeah, it’d be cool to have your mouth there on a couple of big titties.”
That kind of talk really got Calyope’s motor running. She didn’t admit that was the first thing she’d thought about, but instead picked a more aesthetic detail. “Well, I mean, I love your hair color, but I’d just make it a little longer. Like shoulder length, and straight. I’d round out your face a bit, making it more feminine. Ooh, I’d give you full, luscious lips. And then…” Her eyes drifted down her husband’s body as very vivid details flooded her thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Eric moved a hand between his wife’s legs and began to gently finger her. “Please, keep going. Tell me how else you’d turn me into your dream girl.”
“Oh, uh…” she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk as her husband’s skilled fingers went to work. She placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “You’re…you’re right about me swapping out your chest. It’s a really hot chest babe, but…yeah…I’d love to see what it looks like with a pair of double D’s. I’d make them so sensitive that if I just breathed on them, you’d be begging me to suck on them.”
Eric laughed. “I would, huh? Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
As her mind became consumed with lust, she thought to herself, ‘You wouldn’t have a choice. I’ll turn you into a horny slut that wants my mouth all over your new body.”
Her hand drifted down his abs, and came to his dick, which was semi hard and slippery with their combined juices. “I’d shrink this until it became a slit. A perfect little pussy that I could lick as much as I wanted, making you scream for more.”
“Is that all?” Eric asked, knowing his wife was almost to the brink of climax by the way she was breathing and moving her hips in time with his fingers.
“I’d make you just a little shorter than me!” she cried out. “And I’d make you-Oh fuck! I’d make you my perverted little sex slave! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Ooh!” The powerful orgasm made her shake from head to toe.
When she was finally able to relax, Eric pulled her close and they cuddled. He whispered gently in her ear, “Are you sure you can’t do that spell on me now?”
She laughed softly. “I think I need to get the dishes put away and dinner started,” she said.
Eric said nothing for a moment, then shrugged and said a playful, “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet. With a playful swat on her butt he said, “Get to work.”
Her mouth fell open in mock surprise, but then she giggled, and went off to do the housework.
The next few days were a blur, because everytime she had a chance, Calyope was thinking about that spell. Putting eyes on it. Sounding it out. Imagining the ideal feminine shape her husband would become, and the personality she would make him have. She was becoming obsessed, and could think of little else while she did her daily chores. It certainly made them easier.
She thought a tiny bit about maybe altering Eric’s mind to not just be a sex slave, but also be willing to do some of the mundane chores that she did every day. She didn’t mind doing them for her husband. It was part of how she showed her love and devotion to him. But she did wish he’d help out around the house a little more. The vast majority of her thoughts though, were imagining the raven haired beauty he would become, and then making that goddess put her pretty mouth between her legs.
Despite her perverted obsession, it was actually her husband that mentioned using the spell again. She’d been lost in another fantasy while the dishes magically washed, dried, and put away themselves, when her husband pressed himself against her from behind.
“How’s that rune spell coming along, Calyope? Are you ready to turn me into a sexy woman yet?”
Calyope felt his rod twitch against her ass. She instinctively pushed back, wanting to feel it slide between her cheeks. Since she was only wearing an apron, she got her wish. The delightful sensation of that hard cock made her lose her magical concentration though, and a dish crashed to the floor. “Oh shoot,” she pouted, as her husband withdrew behind her. She made a motion with her finger and the dish repaired itself and sailed into the cupboard.
“Sorry,” about that,” she heard her thoughtful husband say.
“She spun around and said, “I think I’m ready.” Goodness knows she needed to be. She needed to alleviate the sexual tension that seemed to be building exponentially inside of her as she thought about turning her husband into a woman. It had felt all consuming these last few days. “I’ve been studying it every time I get a free moment, and should have all the words memorized, so I think we should, um…” she trailed off as she realized how eager she sounded.
Eric laughed. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about it a lot. Every time I look at you while you’re doing your chores, or we’re eating, or, well, after we’re done fucking, you get that faraway look in your eye that makes me think you’re thinking about transforming me into your lesbian lover.”
“Busted,” she giggled, as she looked her husband up and down, undressing him with her eyes and fantasizing about the new curves he’d soon have.
“So where do you want to do this?” he asked curiously. The way his wife was looking at him made him feel like a slab of meat being dangled in front of a hungry lion. He didn’t mind in the least.
“How about upstairs in the bedroom,” Calyope suggested excitedly. “And I’ll need to make contact with you for the spell, so why don’t you just-”
“Get naked,” Eric finished with a wide grin.
Calyope winked at him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, babe,” he said, winking back.
They raced upstairs. As soon as Eric walked in, he pulled off his shirt. Calyope found herself staring at his toned body, and for a moment, thought about scrapping the spell and just taking his male self right then and there.
He saw her gawking as he pulled off his pants and underwear. She was now staring right at his rigid cock that was pointing straight at her. He snapped his fingers and said, “My eyes are up here, love. I know you love this cock, but let’s try to focus,” he teased, then twisted his body side to side so his dick slapped against his torso.
Calyope felt like she was being hypnotized by the motion of that big beautiful cock. Drool had formed in her mouth. Drool that she could use to slobber all over his impressive man meat with her tongue. She shook her head and closed her eyes. She really did need to focus! She had her husband’s permission, and knew the spell pretty well. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, because who knew, tomorrow he might change his mind.
She stepped directly in front of him, and put the fingertips of her right hand onto his stomach. She could feel the tight muscles there. His body was lean and calloused and tough. Everything she wanted in her man. She almost pushed him down onto the bed so she could fuck him, but with an extra bit of willpower, she began a slow and steady chant. As she did, she put every thought into the woman she wanted him to become.
She pictured a slightly shorter physique than herself. One with shoulder length jet black hair, pouty lips, and a round face. This woman would have large, bouncy breasts, almost but not quite as big as her own. Her body would be a vision of seductive curves and soft skin. She would have a neatly trimmed bush, and an always wet and sensitive pussy.
Calyope’s thoughts turned from the physical to the mental. She knew this would reshape her husband’s mind, but she did not hesitate as she thought how this transformed woman would always desire to have sex with Calyope. She would find ways to seduce Calyope, and be willing to beg for the chance to get between her legs. And housework. She’d want to help with chores and making meals. But most importantly, she’d be a kinky slut, coming up with new and exciting ways to get each other off!
That last thought turned her on so much it threatened to distract her, and she stumbled over a few of the words. She looked down at her fingertips and was disheartened to see no rune had formed. She wondered if her carelessness had ruined her first attempt.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” Eric assured her, and put his hand atop hers encouragingly as she started saying the spell again.
Calyope put all her concentration into it this time. She tuned everything else out as she thought only about the words and the manifestation of her fantasy woman.
Slowly but surely, she felt the spark of magic against Eric’s skin. She looked down, and saw a glowing line etched itself from the top of her middle finger, to the other places her fingertips touched. She became excited as a perfect circle began to form, and inside that circle, a combined symbol of an arrow and a cross that represented the masculine and feminine. As Calyope finished the chant, it glowed brightly, and then faded. But the rune remained. A permanent magical brand on her husband’s stomach.
Eric’s brow furrowed, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. He looked down at himself, and asked with obvious disappointment, “Shouldn’t I be a girl now?”
“Not yet,” Calyope said, and licked her lips. “Now that the rune’s there, I should be able to turn you into a girl whenever I want. No lengthy spell, just a touch, and a one word command.”
“Well go ahead then, babe,” Eric said in his deep voice as he struck out his chest and did a superhero pose. “Let me help you make your bisexual dreams come true.”
Calyope bounced up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. Then she put her hand on the rune, and said, “Transform.”
The rune did not glow, but just remained a faint mark on his skin. “I don’t know what’s wrong? That should have worked!” she said. “Let me consult the-”
But before she could run and get the spell book, Eric took her hand again, and placed it over hers on his stomach. “Maybe I have to help show the magic that I’m willing? I am. I am willing,” he said, looking down at his stomach. “Let’s try again, at the same time. Ready?”
Calyope nodded and said, “Okay. On the count of three, let’s both of us say it. One, two, three…”
Simultaneously, husband and wife both said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed bright on Eric’s stomach.
“I think something’s happening!” Eric said excitedly as his skin began to ripple up and down his body.
“It sure is,” Calyope exclaimed. She stepped back from her husband, and watched with wide eyed fascination as he shrank from his 6 foot 2 self, to about 5 foot 9. This was apparent to Calyope, because it was still an inch taller than her own self. That wasn’t quite to her specifications, but it could be amended at a later time.
Eric’s brown hair darkened until it was jet black, then ran down to his shoulders like a waterfall cascading down from his head. His lips became fuller, his face rounder and softer. His broad chest shifted, narrowing first and becoming slimmer. Then his right pectoral began to protrude. It blossomed into a round jiggly boob.
This caused Eric to chuckle as he reached his hand up to it and gave it a squeeze. He looked at his wife, and saw how much she was enjoying the show. He blew her a kiss, right before a left boob popped out before Calyope’s eyes.
He suddenly shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his crotch. Calyope followed his gaze, and saw his erect penis shrink rapidly into his body, leaving only a slit with a tuft of dark curly hair barely covering it.
“Oh wow, that transformation process feels good!” Eric gasped in a high pitched voice as his smaller hand dipped down to his new pussy.
Calyope was glad that her husband wasn’t mourning the loss of his favorite member. She assumed this was part of the spell, helping him embrace the changes by spiking his lust. She remembered that soon he should be up for anything if the spell did its job.
“Oh!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. “Something else is getting bigger!” He gave a slow turn so his wife could see his hips widen, and his ass expand into a round plump butt that had Calyope drooling. He gave it a shake, and giggled as it clapped. “Certainly a lot more exciting than my flat ass, wouldn’t you say, babe?”
Calyope took a step towards him, as if entranced by the wobble of his new sexy butt.
Eric giggled again and said, “I take it you like what you see?”
“I really do,” Calyope said sincerely as Eric finished a slow spin. She saw that the rune on his stomach had faded into a faint, black outline, a reminder that she’d be able to turn him back to her masculine husband whenever she wanted. But right now, she wanted, no, NEEDED to touch every inch of his feminine skin with her fingertips. And then her tongue.
“This spell is incredible,” she whispered as she put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You look nothing like your original self, Eric! I wouldn’t even know you were my husband if I hadn’t seen you transform before my very eyes.”
When Eric responded, his new high girly voice was silky and seductive. “As long as I look like this, Cal, why don’t you call me Erica.”
“Yeah,” Calyope said, bringing her face closer and closer to her husband’s pouty lips. “Erica.”
And then they were kissing. It was not the kissing of two people that have never kissed each other before. Nor the kind that expresses comfortable familiarity. No. This was rather like the kind where two people have been desperate for each other in the worst way and are finally allowed to express their pent up feelings physically.
Hands groped greedily. Lips migrated from lips to necks to shoulders to breasts. They each attacked each other’s bodies like this would be their only opportunity. What made Calyope so infinitely happy, other than Erica’s sweet moans, was that it wouldn’t be. She could live out her lesbian fantasy a million times over, all because of how wonderfully willing her husband was.
“You want to lick this pink pussy of mine, right?” Erica suddenly asked, interrupting Calyope’s thoughts.
“I do!” she squealed. Erica smiled wantonly and laid back on the bed. The raven haired beauty parted her legs, and moved her fingers in a downward V to spread her lips open. Calyope saw her folds were already glistening with desire. Calyope got on her knees and bent low. She began by kissing up Erica’s inner thigh, letting the passion between them escalate. Then her lips were kissing a pussy that had been molded and shaped just for her. She extended her tongue, and tasted a divine salty tartness that was instantly addictive.
Calyope giggled into her lover as Erica began to moan and squirm. She popped her head up and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great!” Erica replied, and then put her hand on top of Calyope’s head. “But don’t stop!”
Calyope squealed happily as her mouth was shoved back into Erica’s dripping cunt.
For the first time that Calyope could remember, her husband came before she did. Turns out all he needed for that to happen, was a clit. Even after Erica squirted in her face, Calyope found she didn’t want to stop licking. “You taste so good baby! And I gotta say, I think I prefer my face coated with your pussy juice than your cum.”
Erica giggled. “Thank you? I think? You really do have an amazing tongue by the way.”
“Do you wanna try yours out?” Calyope asked as she dropped next to her.
Erica pushed herself up and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Caloype was keenly aware of the lack of stubble as Erica’s face brushed against her inner thighs. There was only soft, smooth skin. And then a tongue. It was smaller than Eric’s, but there was a sensuality about it that made Calyope arch her back as it began to lick up and down her folds. “You’re my girlfriend!” she moaned.
A soft laugh reverberated between Calyope’s legs, and then her perfect woman looked up and said, “No, I’m your wife.”
A thrill of delight went through Calyope’s whole body, and Erica didn’t stop until she’d given Calyope everything she’d been hoping for.
The session lasted a very long time, and by the end, they were a sweaty, happy mess. The last thing Calyope thought before she drifted off to sleep was how different it was with a woman. It wasn’t a sprint, but a marathon.
The next several days whizzed by for Calyope. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of sex, and she loved it. The second Eric got home Calyope would turn him into Erica, and they’d make each other climax several times, and then a very tired Calyope would finish her chores while Erica basked in the afterglow. After dinner, Erica would change back to Eric, and fill Calyope’s pussy with strong, powerful thrusts. It was a very good routine, and it might have lasted a good deal longer, had Calyope not made an important discovery.
It happened a month after Erica had been introduced into their lives. Calyope had decided to get up early and shower with her ‘wife.’ She’d showered with Eric many times, but never in the morning before he left for work, because she hated getting up early. She LOVED sleep. She often felt like she could sleep the whole day away. In so many ways, her day really didn’t begin until her husband got back home. That was why she always felt behind on chores, because she so often didn’t start them until Eric got back home.
But she’d been thinking about showering with Erica. She wanted to soap up those beautiful curves. To let her fingers glide over those most intimate of areas while making them smell sweet and fragrant. She’d climaxed last night while thinking about it, while her husband had been inside of her. It was something naughty she often liked to do. To think about the ‘other lover’ that wasn’t there with her while she came.
The opportunity finally arrived when Eric’s alarm actually woke up her that one morning. He was still Erica. Calyope realized she’d forgotten to change Erica back to Eric last night, but Calyope did love the sight of her wife sitting up in bed and stretching. It was a fantastic view. She wanted to pull the busty vixen back down into the bed and begin kissing and licking her all over that curvy figure. But she knew time was of the essence. “I want to shower with you,” she said, placing a hand lovingly on the small of Erica’s back.
Erica yelped at Calyope’s voice, and looked back at her in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to see her in their bed. “Oh, shit. Uh, sorry Cal..yope. I totally forgot to, um…”
“It’s okay, I’m up!” she beamed. “I’ll go heat up the water.” She looked back at Erica from the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna transform you back yet until AFTER the shower,” she giggled.
Erica watched Calyope’s cute butt all the way down the hall to their bathroom. She bit her lower lip and said, “Well, I guess a quick shower won’t hurt.”
She heard the sound of water running. And then a scream.
Erica leapt off the bed and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the doorframe, she cried, “What? What’s the matter? You see a mouse?”
Calyope was still facing the shower. But her head was turned towards the mirror, and her eyes were laser focused on something there. She pointed a shaky hand towards her reflection. She didn’t understand why she had one too. It was smaller, but it was there. On her left butt cheek, was a circular rune with the symbol for masculine and feminine.
“I don’t remember putting a copy of the rune on myself,” she whispered.
Erica sighed and folded her arms. “That’s cause you didn’t put it there, sweetie. I did.”
Calyope finally looked away from the mirror, and turned to face Erica. She was so confused. “But…how could you? You can’t do magic?”
Erica gave her a pitying look and said gently. “No, dear. You’re the one that can’t do magic.” WIth a sudden flick of her wrist, a toothbrush sailed into the air and Erica deftly caught it.
Calyope stared at it in disbelief, not just at the magic on display from her husband/wife, but because the toothbrush…looked like a woman’s toothbrush. She looked at the other toothbrush next to the sink. It was a man’s toothbrush. And a chill went down Calyope’s spine, as she could never remember brushing her teeth. Like, ever.
She began taking panicked, shallow breaths. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she gasped. She flicked her wrist at the other toothbrush. It did not move. Not even a little. “N-no. No I use magic all the ti-WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER EVER DOING CERTAIN THINGS LIKE BRUSHING MY TEETH?!”
Erica held up her hands soothingly and said, “Darling, relax. Let me just…let me talk to my husband, and we’ll straighten this all-”
Calyope’s hands shot down to her sides and clenched into fists as she shrieked, “Your husband?!”
Erica grimaced. “Yeah, this was…well it was his idea. And he’s…inside of you.”
This revelation stunned Calyope to her very core, which gave Erica the time she needed to step forward and hug her. Then she placed a hand on Calyope’s right buttcheek, and said, “Transform.”
_______________________________________________________
Three months ago.
“So, do you know like, transformation magic?” Calvin asked as they laid in bed after another passionate night unbridled lovemaking.
Erica giggled and hit her husband on the arm. “You sick of my body already?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just like…I’m wondering if you could transform me? I know you also like girls, and I know that you gave that up that part of you when we got married. But…what if you didn’t have to. What if you could transform me into your ‘wife’ sometimes?”
Erica squeezed her man. “And then I transform into a handsome guy with muscular pecs and come home from work and give you the business?”
“Oh…” Calvin uttered curiously. “I mean…I hadn’t thought of that, but…”
“You’d let me fuck you with a dick?” Erica said, mouth opened in a wide grin.
“No! I mean…maybe.”
“No lie, dear, that actually sounds kinda hot.”
“Wait, wait. I’m not sure I’d want to be able to remember something like that. Is there like, memory magic you could use as well?”
Erica licked her lips, then said, “I actually may know of a spell that is exactly what we’re looking for babe. Just remember, this was all your idea.”
_____________________________________________________
Present Day
The panic left Calvin’s body as he returned to his original self. The weight from his former boobs was distributed mainly to his belly. He was not the ripped male version that his wife became, but a rather ordinary looking guy. The memories began to rush in from his time as Caloyope.
“You didn’t change me back last night,” he said.
“I know, I know,” Erica said, letting him go. She stepped past him and turned off the shower. “We let this go on too long, Cal. She’s become like, a whole different person.”
That had been Cal’s decision too. To be transformed into Calyope more and more throughout the week. Erica didn’t complain, because Cal was an amazing lover as a woman, plus he didn’t mind that his wife had instilled within him a desire to take care of the house, because he felt a disconnect to it. It was helping her, helping him, and they’d been fucking like rabbits in different gender combinations. There had seemed to be no downside. Until now. Calyope had become aware of the transformation rune, and that had led to her feeling like she wasn’t a whole person. And in a way, maybe she wasn’t. She only appeared when they wanted her to. She didn’t get to remember anything beyond those few hours she was allowed to exist. Cal could remember, but not her.
“This is my fault,” Erica said. “I should have paid attention to the precautions. I can have the rune removed.”
Cal’s face fell. “No. No please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Calyope means so much to you. So much to me.”
Erica hugged her husband. She was glad he felt this way. Calyope really had become a part of their family. “Give me some time to think. Maybe…maybe there’s something we can do, but I’ll need to research some spell books.”
They held each other, and finally parted ways. Cal going to work. Erica doing the same. She worked at an apothecary, one that had many magical recipes and spellbooks, which she would dive into today, looking for an answer to the mess they’d made.
A week later, the husband and wife reconvened in the bathroom again. They were both naked as if they were about to shower, but Calvin was just watching his wife use her finger to make a large circle over the mirror. Then she took out a sharp stone and began scratching the surface, carving small symbols into it. When it was done, she placed her hand upon it, and said a lengthy spell she’d been memorizing for the last few days. The mirror glowed, and then looked like a regular mirror again, except it didn’t reflect as it once had. It still showed Erica, but as Calvin looked at it, he saw Calyope. But her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be asleep.
“Okay,” Erica said, assessing the small bathroom. “It’s time. Stand right where she was when she got transformed last time. Let’s try to make this as comfortable for her as possible.”
Calvin put his back to the shower, and Erica put her arms around him. “I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Erica put a hand on her husband’s fuzzy butt, and said, “Transform.”
A few seconds later, Calyope sucked in a huge breath. Her ‘wife’s’ arms were still around as they had been when she felt herself blank out. She fought the urge to panic. “Let me go,” she said firmly.
Erica did, but then quickly said, “Calyope, we both owe you an apology.”
“Was any of it real?!” she demanded.
Erica hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was very real, Calyope. But what we did to you wasn’t right. But we think we’ve-”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we?’” Calyope spat. She was so mad, but not just at Erica. She was also mad at herself, because even now the sight of Erica was turning her on. She wanted to kiss her soft lips, and get her mouth between her legs and taste her. She now assumed that this desire was also a part of that rune.
Erica noted the woman’s mixed emotions, but instead of commenting on them, she pointed to the mirror and said quietly, “Calyope, meet your other half, Calvin.”
Calyope looked from Erica to the mirror, expecting to see her and Erica reflected in its surface. But she was mistaken. There was Erica, yes, but instead of Calyope, there was a man where she should be. A man that, in certain aspects, vaguely resembled Calyope herself. Same sandy brown hair color. Same chin. Same eyes.
“Nice to meet you officially,” the reflection of Cal suddenly said, which caused Calyope to jump. The man put his palms out in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, sorry, don’t be scared. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you, cause, well, I am you. Erica magicked up this mirror especially for us, so we could talk. It’s very important that you know, Calyope, that you’ve made Erica so happy these last few months.”
“It’s true,” Erica said.
Calyope frowned and looked towards Erica. “I haven’t known you for months,” she countered. “I’ve only known Eric. You know, the person I thought was my husband.”
“Would having him here with you make you more comfortable?” Erica interjected.
Calyope met the woman’s eyes, and nodded sadly. “Yeah. It’d help.” Eric had been her rock. The person she’d do absolutely anything for. She knew this was also probably part of the spell, but just the thought of seeing him calmed her a little.
Erica put a hand to her own overlaid rune and said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed, and Erica’s soft supple form grew taller and became muscular. Her smooth belly gained those chiseled abs that made Calyope go weak in the knees. And suddenly there was his handsome face, looking at her in concern. She threw herself into his strong arms, and he held her tight and patted her head.
“There, there, it’s okay, dear,” he said.
For a few precious seconds, Calyope allowed herself to melt into him. “Do you remember being her?” she finally asked her husband.
He gave her a pitying look. “Um, yes, but…”
“That’s not fair that you get to!” she protested. Then she turned on her male counterpart in the mirror. “Do you remember being me?”
“Also yes,” Calvin admitted. “But for different reasons.”
Calyope looked up into her husband’s dark eyes. She found she wanted to kiss him. To grind against his body until he grew hard, picked her up, and fucked her against the bathroom wall. She tried to keep focused. “What’s he talking about? Why do you both get to remember?”
“Well,” Eric confessed. “I’m still…Erica. Even when I’m Eric, I’m still me. I used the overlaid rune to transform from female to male, but otherwise there were no changes.”
Calyope’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But…you act like a guy when you look like this.” She put a hand on his chest. Being this close to him was having quite the effect on her. If Erica’s body had made her horny, Eric’s body was having even more of an impact.
She looked at her male counterpart while her hand kept descending down to those abs she loved so much. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The magic of the rune allows me to remember everything you thought and did when I transform back,” Cal explained. “It doesn’t feel quite like I was there, but it’s certainly close enough that I feel that you’re a huge part of me.”
Calyope couldn’t stop her hand from going lower as she said, “But that’s not fair. I should be able to feel the same way. I should get to remember being married to Erica, and living your life, and all of it.”
“You’re right,” Cal said. “You’re absolutely right. And the reason Erica and I brought you back, was to tell you that she’s got a way to…” Eric gasped as Calyope’s hand touched the tip of his penis, and Cal noticed. “Um…do I need to give you guys a second?”
Calyope licked her lips as she looked down at Eric’s throbbing member. Then she looked at Cal in the mirror. “Do you remember every time I’ve gone down on my husband?” she asked coolly.
“I…do…” Cal said tentatively. “But, like I said, it’s like remembering something that happened to somebody else. And I certainly don’t dwell on it.”
“Well you’re about to see it,” Calyope said as she began sinking to her knees.
Cal looked at his wife’s Eric persona. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the body that his wife had. He looked at her and said, “Look, I’m glad this is working out, but could you take this to the other room.”
Eric shook his head and as he put a hand on top of Calyope’s. “No honey. It’s so much hotter if you’re here to watch your pretty little mouth suck my dick. You can take it so deep too!”
“Yeah, I can absolutely do without the play by play.” But he did watch as Calyope took the cock in her mouth with no hesitation. She sucked it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she began to moan and rub her clit as she did so. “Fuck, that IS hot,” he finally admitted.
“I knew you’d like to watch you little perv,” Eric groaned. “But I know my precious Calyope. THIS is what she really wants.” With that he lifted her up in his strong arms, pinned her to the wall, and impaled her pussy with his thick cock.
“Yes!” Calyope screamed. “I love you so much, Eric!”
“I love you too, Calyope!”
A moment later, Cal said, “We both do.”
Calyope came hard a minute later. When she did, she knew that her sensitive pussy was a gift from Erica. She bucked her hips and clawed at Eric’s back until he came inside her. When he put her down, she asked, “So…what now?”
Eric kissed her and said, “Now we give you what Calvin has always had. The ability to remember. You’ll remember being him the way he remembers being you.”
“What about some of the other things? Will those change too?”
“What other things?” Calvin asked.
“I’m guessing she means the desire to cook and clean for me.”
“Yeah!” Calyope pouted.
“Ooh, yeah, that was my idea,” Cal admitted.
“Or the fact that just the sight of either of your forms makes me go into heat,” Calyope added.
“Uh, I didn’t actually do that one,” Eric laughed.
“I mean, she is hot as a guy or a girl,” Cal agreed.
“Oh, you want some of this too?” Eric winked, stroking his slippery cock.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass, but thanks. I already have plenty of memories of tasting it and having that enormous thing shoved in me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Calyope suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll get to remember fucking you with a dick?!”
Eric hugged her. “Yes, you will, sweetie. But as for the other stuff…well, I’m afraid to redo the rune to make you not want to cook and clean and think you have magic, that won’t go away. Not unless I redid the rune, which…would make the version that is you, go away.”
“Well I don’t want that!” she said quickly. “And I don’t mind too much cooking and cleaning. It is how I’ve always shown you I love you.”
“Again, my idea,” Calvin said.
“Shut it, husband,” Eric snapped playfully.
“Whose idea was it to let me see the book with the overlaid rune?” Calyope asked curiously.
“Oh, that was mine!” Eric answered proudly. “After you brought up wanting to be with a woman, I knew there was a part of you that missed, well, the real me. And that was confirmed when you described me. I thought it would be fun-”
Cal coughed in the mirror.
“Sorry, WE thought it would be fun if we played this out, and…yeah, it was really hot, but we’re both sorry if we ever hurt-”
“Shh,” Calyope whispered, as she put a finger on her husband’s lips. “I’m still really horny. So, I think I’d be fine if…”
“I changed back into your ‘wife’?’” Eric suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope bit her lip. “Yes please.”
Eric swooped up his bride and looked at Cal’s reflection. “You’re gonna enjoy remembering all the kinky lesbian shit we’re about to do, dear.”
Calvin laughed and waved at them. “I know I will. Have fun you two.”
Calyope squealed as Eric ran from the bathroom and threw her onto their bed. He was Erica a moment later, and she dove between Calyope’s legs and began lapping up the cum that had just been deposited by her male self. The two were insatiable all day, and Eric made many guest appearances.
Calvin and Calyope settled into new routines where they shared their time with Erica/Eric, but also loved remembering how happy the other made their spouse.
There are certainly more hijinks to their story, like the one where Calyope got a temporary body from a gollum that Erica created. But that is another story altogether.
The end.
Author's Note
Sorry for my long absence. I hope you enjoyed this new story. The inspiration for it came from the show Severance, and I enjoyed applying the concept of playing it out with a twist with this happily married couple. If you'd like to see more of their story, let me know. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Next up though will be more Working Remotely.
Thank you to all my supporters. After I add the next chapter of Working Remotely, you'll be the ones to decide what I work on next.
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Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. It took a little while to get warm, but it was really pleasant when it did. I love just relaxing under the hot water, before I start actually washing myself. Mostly because washing my hair is a huge pain. So I stood, arms crossed under my boobs, half-hugging myself as the hot water cascaded over my shoulders. It felt great - I might just stand here for a while.
A few minutes later - at least, I hope it was only a few minutes, since I'd been known to get 'stuck' in the shower for maybe half an hour without actually doing anything - I heard a noise that sounded like a knock on the door. Which was weird, because I lived alone, and I was sure that the front door was locked. It's probably nothing, just my imagination.
---
Shit, did she hear me? I slipped through the door into the bathroom. Even though I was invisible and mostly incorporeal, I still bumped things. As far as I could tell, she hadn't. She still stood, unmoving, behind the shower curtain. Even though I could only see her silhouette, I could already tell she was hot. She was head shorter than me, slim, but with pretty nice boobs and a tight ass. Oh, I was looking forward to this.
I slowly crept closer, and stumbled over the bath mat in front of the vanity unit. I crashed into the counter, causing everything on it to shake. There's no way she didn't hear that...
---
Alright, that was definitely not my imagination. I peeked around the shower curtain, and saw... nothing. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the room at all. Door was still barely open, and there was clearly no one there. Even all my stuff around the sink was still in place. So what was going on...?
I returned to my shower, and couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Despite the fact that there was clearly no one in here with me, I still felt uneasy. Maybe if I just finished up and got out, I'd feel better? Yeah, that's what I'd do.
I squeezed some shampoo into my hand, turned to face the shower head, and began to massage my scalp with my hands.
---
Yeah, I definitely messed up there. She peeked out of the shower, letting me see her face for the first time. And damn, she was cute. Soft lips, button nose, long dirty blonde hair...
Judging by the fact that she didn't react to me at all, she truly couldn't see me. So it had worked after all. Now all I needed was to slip into the shower with her, then slip into her... if it all went to plan, she wouldn't even realize anything was different. Apparently, she would think anything I did while in control was her own idea.
More confidently now, I crept up to the shower, and snuck past the curtain. She was shampooing her head, facing away from me. Perfect! I stepped up close, and poked a foot into hers.
---
I felt something tickling at my foot. I quickly kicked back, but there was nothing. This was turning out to be the creepiest shower experience of my life. I was about half-done shampooing - I'd leave it in for a minute, condition it, quickly scrub myself down, then get the hell out.
What the hell? The same side that had felt the tickle now felt like something was pushing into it. Kind of like a blanket - it wasn't moving me, but it was just pushing. I tried to move the leg away, but it felt heavy. Like it was actually wrapped up in a blanket. I had no idea what was going on, but I definitely wanted out of here. I'd almost consider not even finishing...<
---
Ooh, that tingles. I'd managed to get one leg inside her - I couldn't control it until I'd completely taken over, but it did make the rest of the process easier. I slipped my other leg into hers - this one went in a lot smoother. Next, I tried to stand up straight and just take over the rest of her.
It didn't work.
I found myself precariously wobbling, rooted in by my legs. Alright, slowly it was then.
---
The odd feeling had spread to my other leg, and whatever weirdness it was was now firmly pushing at my ass. It was a chore to move my legs at this point. Was I on some weird trip? I wasn't drunk or high... I thought. I hadn't done anything like that in at least a few days now...
The odd pressure had turned into slight numbness and warmth - kind of like when you sit in an awkward position, before the pins and needles sets in. That feeling crept up my legs - that I couldn't really move right now anyway - and past my hips.
I reached out an arm and slapped my leg. It felt completely normal - not numb, not swollen or anything. Then why the hell couldn't I move it?!
---
The moment when I had thrust my hips into hers was odd. The biggest thing was that I went from having a dick - even if it was a ghost dick right now - to not having one. I wasn't in control of the girl's body yet so I couldn't feel anything, but it was still weird to just lose that part of myself so suddenly.
Continuing my efforts, I gradually pulled myself up until I was almost at her chest...
---
The pressure was rising, followed now ever quicker by the numbness. It slowly climbed up my back, covering my whole chest, then up to my neck. My arms were next, starting at the shoulders. They began to feel heavy, so I stopped my shampooing.
You know - in hindsight, I probably should have gotten out of here sooner. Something was clearly wrong in here. But... I didn't.
And now, I stood, arms heavy at my sides, barely able to move my body through the numbness I felt all over. I would have screamed or something, but there was no point. No one was here anyway - and I was alone. Yet this was still happening.
I resigned myself to my fate, whatever it was.
---
Almost done! All that was left was my head, and then it would all be over...
I slipped my chin forward, catching a mop of wet hair in my ghostly face. Instinctively I scrunched my eyes, but of course nothing happened. I went right through it. Right into the back of her head...
Then, I could feel again.
I felt the hot water on my body. Long hair sticking to my back. Arms at my sides. I went to open my eyes, instinctively brushing away the water with my hands. As I did that, my elbows squished into something that was altogether new to me.
I looked down with my new eyes, grinning like a madman as I saw two perfectly perky breasts hanging off my chest. I took them in my new hands, loving the feeling both of cupping them, and having them cupped. I pinched one of my nipples, experiencing a brand new shock of pleasure that spread through my entire body, concentrated in my crotch.
---
The numbness had gone. In its place, I felt unbelievably giddy... and horny. My hands immediately began massaging my boobs. And for some reason it felt really good. Like, REALLY good. I was already wet, and every touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I pinched a nipple, and shuddered at the sensations that it caused. This never usually felt this good, but I sure as hell wasn't gonna complain!
I continued rubbing my hands over my body - I was so sensitive today! - feeling every curve. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but damn, I was hot. And I felt hot. My hands traced a path down around my belly button, before grabbing a handful of ass. Even my ass was damn fine!
---
Holy shit! Was this what it always felt like for girls? This was fucking amazing! And I hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet! Her pussy was tingling in anticipation as I grabbed her ass, squeezing it between her own petite hands. I took her hand, and slid it around and down, probing for her snatch.
Whoa. Everything I had felt before this paled in comparison. Just touching down there shot a massive jolt of pleasure through my entire body, so much that my knees began to quiver. Hungry for more, I plunged my fingers deeper into the soft, sticky warmth of the girl's pussy.
---
Wow... I continued fingering myself - a lot more clumsily than usual, but I didn't care. It just felt so good! My fingers dug hungrily in and out of my pussy, and I felt the pressure building in my core. I let out a moan, and continued my hand motions frantically. My other hand was forgotten - all I cared about right now was my vagina, and to continue doing what I was doing.
---
"Ahhh! Aahhhh! Aaahhhhh!" I moaned, her voice coming out desperate as my hand continued to play around. The pleasure I felt from inside was overwhelming. I didn't ever imagine that it was possible to feel this good!
Then, the pleasure just exploded. One massive wave of pure bliss, emanating from my core, shaking my entire body. I was numb. All I felt was the pleasure, a million times stronger than anything I had ever felt as a guy.
Dark spots began to play at the corner of my vision, and I felt myself fading...
---
I stood, slightly shaking, in the afterglow of what had to have been my most powerful orgasm ever. My breath was ragged and shallow, but I didn't care. It was totally worth it.
I should probably finish showering... in a few minutes. For now I'll just coast on that bliss.
---
I woke up on my bed, with a raging hard-on, laptop still open with the spell up. Shame I was out of potion, though. I ran to the bathroom, using my memory of what had just happened to fuel my wank.
I had to get more of that potion...
I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. It took a little while to get warm, but it was really pleasant when it did. I love just relaxing under the hot water, before I start actually washing myself. Mostly because washing my hair is a huge pain. So I stood, arms crossed under my boobs, half-hugging myself as the hot water cascaded over my shoulders. It felt great - I might just stand here for a while.
A few minutes later - at least, I hope it was only a few minutes, since I'd been known to get 'stuck' in the shower for maybe half an hour without actually doing anything - I heard a noise that sounded like a knock on the door. Which was weird, because I lived alone, and I was sure that the front door was locked. It's probably nothing, just my imagination.
---
Shit, did she hear me? I slipped through the door into the bathroom. Even though I was invisible and mostly incorporeal, I still bumped things. As far as I could tell, she hadn't. She still stood, unmoving, behind the shower curtain. Even though I could only see her silhouette, I could already tell she was hot. She was head shorter than me, slim, but with pretty nice boobs and a tight ass. Oh, I was looking forward to this.
I slowly crept closer, and stumbled over the bath mat in front of the vanity unit. I crashed into the counter, causing everything on it to shake. There's no way she didn't hear that...
---
Alright, that was definitely not my imagination. I peeked around the shower curtain, and saw... nothing. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the room at all. Door was still barely open, and there was clearly no one there. Even all my stuff around the sink was still in place. So what was going on...?
I returned to my shower, and couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Despite the fact that there was clearly no one in here with me, I still felt uneasy. Maybe if I just finished up and got out, I'd feel better? Yeah, that's what I'd do.
I squeezed some shampoo into my hand, turned to face the shower head, and began to massage my scalp with my hands.
---
Yeah, I definitely messed up there. She peeked out of the shower, letting me see her face for the first time. And damn, she was cute. Soft lips, button nose, long dirty blonde hair...
Judging by the fact that she didn't react to me at all, she truly couldn't see me. So it had worked after all. Now all I needed was to slip into the shower with her, then slip into her... if it all went to plan, she wouldn't even realize anything was different. Apparently, she would think anything I did while in control was her own idea.
More confidently now, I crept up to the shower, and snuck past the curtain. She was shampooing her head, facing away from me. Perfect! I stepped up close, and poked a foot into hers.
---
I felt something tickling at my foot. I quickly kicked back, but there was nothing. This was turning out to be the creepiest shower experience of my life. I was about half-done shampooing - I'd leave it in for a minute, condition it, quickly scrub myself down, then get the hell out.
What the hell? The same side that had felt the tickle now felt like something was pushing into it. Kind of like a blanket - it wasn't moving me, but it was just pushing. I tried to move the leg away, but it felt heavy. Like it was actually wrapped up in a blanket. I had no idea what was going on, but I definitely wanted out of here. I'd almost consider not even finishing...<
---
Ooh, that tingles. I'd managed to get one leg inside her - I couldn't control it until I'd completely taken over, but it did make the rest of the process easier. I slipped my other leg into hers - this one went in a lot smoother. Next, I tried to stand up straight and just take over the rest of her.
It didn't work.
I found myself precariously wobbling, rooted in by my legs. Alright, slowly it was then.
---
The odd feeling had spread to my other leg, and whatever weirdness it was was now firmly pushing at my ass. It was a chore to move my legs at this point. Was I on some weird trip? I wasn't drunk or high... I thought. I hadn't done anything like that in at least a few days now...
The odd pressure had turned into slight numbness and warmth - kind of like when you sit in an awkward position, before the pins and needles sets in. That feeling crept up my legs - that I couldn't really move right now anyway - and past my hips.
I reached out an arm and slapped my leg. It felt completely normal - not numb, not swollen or anything. Then why the hell couldn't I move it?!
---
The moment when I had thrust my hips into hers was odd. The biggest thing was that I went from having a dick - even if it was a ghost dick right now - to not having one. I wasn't in control of the girl's body yet so I couldn't feel anything, but it was still weird to just lose that part of myself so suddenly.
Continuing my efforts, I gradually pulled myself up until I was almost at her chest...
---
The pressure was rising, followed now ever quicker by the numbness. It slowly climbed up my back, covering my whole chest, then up to my neck. My arms were next, starting at the shoulders. They began to feel heavy, so I stopped my shampooing.
You know - in hindsight, I probably should have gotten out of here sooner. Something was clearly wrong in here. But... I didn't.
And now, I stood, arms heavy at my sides, barely able to move my body through the numbness I felt all over. I would have screamed or something, but there was no point. No one was here anyway - and I was alone. Yet this was still happening.
I resigned myself to my fate, whatever it was.
---
Almost done! All that was left was my head, and then it would all be over...
I slipped my chin forward, catching a mop of wet hair in my ghostly face. Instinctively I scrunched my eyes, but of course nothing happened. I went right through it. Right into the back of her head...
Then, I could feel again.
I felt the hot water on my body. Long hair sticking to my back. Arms at my sides. I went to open my eyes, instinctively brushing away the water with my hands. As I did that, my elbows squished into something that was altogether new to me.
I looked down with my new eyes, grinning like a madman as I saw two perfectly perky breasts hanging off my chest. I took them in my new hands, loving the feeling both of cupping them, and having them cupped. I pinched one of my nipples, experiencing a brand new shock of pleasure that spread through my entire body, concentrated in my crotch.
---
The numbness had gone. In its place, I felt unbelievably giddy... and horny. My hands immediately began massaging my boobs. And for some reason it felt really good. Like, REALLY good. I was already wet, and every touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I pinched a nipple, and shuddered at the sensations that it caused. This never usually felt this good, but I sure as hell wasn't gonna complain!
I continued rubbing my hands over my body - I was so sensitive today! - feeling every curve. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but damn, I was hot. And I felt hot. My hands traced a path down around my belly button, before grabbing a handful of ass. Even my ass was damn fine!
---
Holy shit! Was this what it always felt like for girls? This was fucking amazing! And I hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet! Her pussy was tingling in anticipation as I grabbed her ass, squeezing it between her own petite hands. I took her hand, and slid it around and down, probing for her snatch.
Whoa. Everything I had felt before this paled in comparison. Just touching down there shot a massive jolt of pleasure through my entire body, so much that my knees began to quiver. Hungry for more, I plunged my fingers deeper into the soft, sticky warmth of the girl's pussy.
---
Wow... I continued fingering myself - a lot more clumsily than usual, but I didn't care. It just felt so good! My fingers dug hungrily in and out of my pussy, and I felt the pressure building in my core. I let out a moan, and continued my hand motions frantically. My other hand was forgotten - all I cared about right now was my vagina, and to continue doing what I was doing.
---
"Ahhh! Aahhhh! Aaahhhhh!" I moaned, her voice coming out desperate as my hand continued to play around. The pleasure I felt from inside was overwhelming. I didn't ever imagine that it was possible to feel this good!
Then, the pleasure just exploded. One massive wave of pure bliss, emanating from my core, shaking my entire body. I was numb. All I felt was the pleasure, a million times stronger than anything I had ever felt as a guy.
Dark spots began to play at the corner of my vision, and I felt myself fading...
---
I stood, slightly shaking, in the afterglow of what had to have been my most powerful orgasm ever. My breath was ragged and shallow, but I didn't care. It was totally worth it.
I should probably finish showering... in a few minutes. For now I'll just coast on that bliss.
---
I woke up on my bed, with a raging hard-on, laptop still open with the spell up. Shame I was out of potion, though. I ran to the bathroom, using my memory of what had just happened to fuel my wank.
I had to get more of that potion...
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