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mind control possession transformation Futanari Superheroes body horror Body merge possession body merge scatological
Stacey's body is complete, but she has a longing in her soul.
The Cheer Squad must overcome an unforeseen but expected obstacle.
No selection - the entire chapter will be rewritten.
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The morning light was harsh through the blinds, slicing across the rumpled bed. Claire blinked, her head throbbing with a dull, medicinal ache. Something warm and soft was pressed against her. She looked down.
Amy was nestled in her arms, asleep, her blond hair fanned across the pillow. Except… Claire’s arms were thickly bandaged from wrist to elbow, and the body she held was decidedly male. The firm plane of a chest, the coarse hair on a forearm. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs.
“Amy?” she whispered, her voice a dry rasp. It came out wrong. Deeper. Rougher.
The body in her arms stirred. Blue eyes, so like Will’s, fluttered open. They widened in instant, sheer panic. “Frank? What the hell? Why are you… holding me?” The voice was high, melodic. Amy’s voice. But the tone was all Will—confused, irritable, direct.
Claire—in Frank’s body—pushed herself up on her elbows. Past the tangle of Amy’s blond hair, she saw the closet mirror. The reflection showed Frank’s familiar, lean frame, his own dark hair mussed from sleep, his bandaged arms wrapped around a petite, curvy Amy. But Amy’s face was contorted in a terror that wasn’t hers.
“Will?” Claire breathed, the name feeling foreign in this new throat. “Is that you in there?”
The person in Amy’s body scrambled back, the sheets pooling around a waist that was suddenly, distressingly narrow. “Claire? What did you call me?” He—Will—looked down at himself, at the pronounced swell of his sister’s breasts beneath the thin cotton sleep shirt, and his hands flew to his throat. “That’s my… this is Amy’s voice. What is this?”
“I think… I think I’m you,” Claire said, the reality of it dawning with a sick, dizzying weight. She swung Frank’s legs—her legs—out of bed. The movement was all wrong, the center of gravity shifted, a heavy, unfamiliar weight swinging between her thighs. She ignored it, for now. “The accident. The goodbye. Don’t you remember?”
Will—in Amy—stood up shakily. He looked down at his new body, his hands hovering over the generous curves. “I remember you… you and me, in the car. Crushed. Then nothing. Then waking up here, smothered by my little brother.” He shuddered, a full-body tremor that made the new flesh quiver. “This isn’t right. This is Amy.”
“And this is Frank,” Claire said, staring at Frank’s hands—her hands—as she flexed them. “We’re in our siblings. Our spouses’ siblings.” The sheer, grotesque improbability of it threatened to swallow her. But the throbbing in her bandaged arms was real. The discharge papers on the nightstand were real.
They found them, the crisp hospital printout. Franklin Miller, contusions, lacerations. Amy Miller, contusions, mild concussion. The names were wrong, but the injuries mapped. They had been patched up and sent home, two souls crammed into the wrong, aching containers.
Wordlessly, they moved to the kitchen, the beach house silent except for the distant crash of Pacific waves. The medical instructions said to clean and re-dress the wounds. They worked in a stunned quiet, Claire clumsily winding fresh gauze around Will-Amy’s slender forearm, Will using Amy’s delicate fingers to secure the wrap on Claire-Frank’s broader bicep with a efficiency that was utterly his own.
“We need to shower,” Will said finally, his voice tight. “We’re covered in road grit and… and whatever else.”
Claire nodded. It was practical. A step. They stood in the master bathroom, a spacious tiled room with a large glass-walled shower. The silence grew thick.
“Just… get it over with,” Will muttered, not looking at her. He—in Amy’s body—peeled the sleep shirt over his head, revealing Amy’s full, pale breasts. He froze, his breath catching, his face a mask of profound disorientation. Claire watched, a strange, detached part of her noting how Will’s shock did nothing to diminish the natural, ripe beauty of the form he now wore.
Swallowing hard, Claire turned her attention to Frank’s clothes. The jeans were awkward, the button fly an unfamiliar puzzle for her fingers. She got them open, pushed them down Frank’s hips. The boxer briefs followed. And there it was.
Frank’s penis, soft and nestled in a thatch of dark hair. It was… there. A presence. A weight. She stared at it, this alien appendage that was now, technically, hers. The core of her being, Claire, recoiled. But the body she inhabited didn’t. There was a low, curious hum of sensation, a connection to the thing that was both deeply wrong and undeniably physical.
Will had stripped completely now, standing naked by the sink. He was staring into the mirror, at Amy’s face, with a kind of horrified fascination. His hands skimmed over the dramatic hourglass curve of the hips, the soft swell of the stomach. “God,” he whispered.
“Don’t,” Claire said, her new voice gruff. “Just… don’t think. Clean. That’s all.”
They stepped into the shower together, a bizarre and intimate pantomime of their old married life. The water was hot, a welcome shock. Claire let it sluice over Frank’s broad shoulders, watching as Will soaped Amy’s body with a clinical, hurried desperation. The suds slid over smooth skin, over curves that Will had only ever seen on his sister from a detached, brotherly distance. Now he was mapping them with his own, stolen hands.
Claire’s own washing was more hesitant. The soap slid over Frank’s chest, flat and hard. Down the taut stomach. Her hand, wrapped in plastic to protect the bandages, hesitated again at the groin. She had to clean it. It was just a body part. A piece of biology.
She touched it. Frank’s flaccid penis was soft, vulnerable in her grip. She washed it quickly, the soap slick, her mind screaming the wrongness of it. But as her fingers moved, a jolt went through her—through Frank’s body. A thick, gathering tension. A flood of warmth that had nothing to do with the shower. She gasped, and the thing in her hand began to change, to swell and stiffen, lengthening and thickening in a way that was utterly, overwhelmingly male.
In the mirror of her mind, she was still Claire. But the sensation… the sensation was a deep, insistent pulse, a claiming of blood and flesh that centered entirely on that stretching, hardening shaft. It felt powerful. It felt hungry.
She looked up, water streaming down Frank’s face, and met Will’s eyes. He had seen. He was staring, not at her face, but lower, at the clear, hard evidence of the body’s response. In his own new body, Amy’s body, a sympathetic flush spread across the chest and throat.
“It’s… it’s just the heat,” Claire stammered, the excuse weak even to her own ears.
Will didn’t answer. He was looking down now, at Amy’s body. At the space between her legs. His expression was one of dawning, awful comprehension. “It would… it would stretch,” he said, his voice hollow. “Wouldn’t it? If we… that would stretch this.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. The image was there, brutal and visceral: the thick, hard length of Frank, of the penis Claire now felt twitching in her hand, pushing into the tight, small space that was now his.
The thought should have revolted him. It should have revolted her. But standing there in the steam, with the water beating down on their stolen, aching forms, it didn’t. It hummed between them, a forbidden current. A terrible, logical next step. The body Claire was in throbbed with a need that was entirely about filling a space, about the profound, physical truth of fit and stretch. And the body Will was in, for all his mental horror, seemed to soften in response, a faint, unfamiliar ache blooming low in Amy’s belly.
They finished rinsing in silence, the air crackling with things unsaid. They toweled off, avoiding each other’s eyes, avoiding looking too long at the reflections in the fogged-up glass. They were two people, stranded in the wrong skins, with the ghosts of their spouses between them and a terrifying, tantalizing new physics of flesh beckoning from the shadows of their own home.
A reimagining of 'Palette Swap' by Team Lady Valiant & FarhadTG
The final kick landed with a sickening crack. My heel connected squarely with Vega's porcelain mask, shattering it—and the bone beneath—with a sound like splintering china. He went down hard, clutching his ruined face, blood seeping between his perfect fingers. For a moment, there was only his ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.
Then he started to laugh.
"Beautiful... so beautiful..." he gurgled through the wreckage of his jaw, his once-perfect features now a jigsaw puzzle of gore and ceramic shards. His free hand fumbled at his belt, producing a small device I recognized from Bison's labs. "But beauty... can be transferred."
"No—!" I lunged forward, but too late. He pressed the trigger.
The world exploded in white light and static. I felt myself falling, spinning, my consciousness ripping away from my body like silk tearing. When I could see again, I was looking up at the ceiling from the floor, my perspective completely wrong. Vega's hands—my hands now—rose into view. Long-fingered and pale. I touched my face and felt bandages, surgical tape, the swollen flesh beneath.
Across from me, Vega—now wearing my body—stood staring down at itself with wide, hungry eyes. He immediately grabbed the neckline of my qipao top and tore it open, exposing the breasts I'd known my whole life as if seeing them for the first time. "Exquisite," he breathed in my voice, a sound so wrong it made my stomach turn. He cupped them, his fingers—my fingers once—squeezing the weight of them with obscene fascination.
"Three days later."
The words felt surreal to even think. Three days of surgery, of recovery, of Vega preening and parading in my skin while I lay in his bed, trapped in his broken body. I shifted against silk sheets that smelled of roses and blood, trying to find a position that didn't send agony lancing through Vega's four fractured ribs—my fractured ribs now.
The bedroom door opened. Vega entered—not the Vega I'd fought, but the Vega who now wore my face and form. He'd styled my hair into his signature braid, the dark ropes hanging over one shoulder. My breasts—his breasts now—were completely exposed, moving with a bounce and weight I intimately understood but had never witnessed from this angle. His nipples, my nipples once, were hard on my former breasts and already healed into them was a matching version of Vega's serpent tattoo, coiling around his left breast.
He wore the ceremonial trousers of a matador in murrey and yellow, so tight they might have been painted on. Every curve of what had been my hips, my ass, my thighs—his now—was outlined in devastating detail. The white leggings hugged his calves, the red sash cinched his waist, and the loafers clicked softly on the marble floor. There was no shirt, no vest, no modesty whatsoever.
"How are we feeling today, my beautiful monster?" he purred in my voice, running his hands down his bare torso, fingers tracing the new tattoo. "I've been breaking in your body. The flexibility is... inspiring."
I pushed myself up on Vega's arms—my arms now—so much stronger than my own had been, but currently useless thanks to the ribs. I wore the masculine version of my Street Fighter Alpha outfit: an embroidered vest that strained across his broad shoulders, a navy unitard that did nothing to hide the evidence of my new anatomy, athletic shoes, and studded wristbands. My face was still wrapped in bandages, Napoleon's guise hiding the damage I'd inflicted.
"You're a psychopath," I rasped, his voice grating in my throat.
"I'm an artist," he corrected, striking a pose that made his—my breasts once—lift and press together. "And I've finally achieved my masterpiece. The face I was always meant to have, the body I've coveted for years. But..." He frowned, touching his bandaged visage on my body. "I still need to fix this. Your brutality marred perfection."
Despite everything, despite the pain and violation, I felt a strange heat pooling in my new groin as I watched him touch what had been my face. My old body was undeniably beautiful, even under his control. And his body... I flexed Vega's powerful thighs—my thighs now—felt the weight of different muscles, the tightness of the unitard against an erection I hadn't asked for.
His eyes—my eyes once—caught the movement. "Ah, I see my husband is adjusting. Good." He began to pace, each step deliberate, making my former hips sway. "I've been thinking, my love. About our arrangement. You gave me this gift, this perfect vessel. And I realized something." He stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on what had been my hips. "I'm in love. With you. With the fighter who broke me, who made this possible."
My breath caught. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." He smiled with my lips, then reached down and began to touch himself through the impossibly tight matador trousers. "But watch how your former body responds to the truth." One hand squeezed his breast—the weight of it filling his palm perfectly—while the other rubbed slow circles between his legs. "I've been touching myself constantly, wife. Learning every secret you kept hidden. Did you know you could get this wet?"
He turned, presenting the profile of my former body, and I watched in horrified fascination as his fingers worked faster. The trousers were so tight I could see the outline of his hand, the way the fabric pulled and strained. He was getting wet—I could smell it, that familiar scent from a foreign source, and the dark patch spreading across the murrey fabric.
"Vega, stop—" I protested, but my new voice was weak.
"Why? This is as much yours as mine now." He approached the bed, leaning over my new crotch, my former breasts—his breasts now—swaying. "Let me show you what I've learned as your wife."
His hands moved to my unitard, and before I could protest, he tore the reinforced fabric between my legs with shocking ease. Vega's cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I gasped at the sensation—so different, so urgent.
"Beautiful," he whispered, taking it in my former hands. "Just like the rest of your husband."
Then he leaned forward and pressed my erection between his breasts—the breasts I'd once soaped in the shower, the breasts that had fit into specific sports bras, the breasts that were now his to wield as mother to my fatherhood. The sensation was overwhelming. He squeezed them together, creating a channel of soft, yielding flesh, and began to move.
"Watch," he commanded in my voice, looking down at me with my own dark eyes—his eyes now. "Watch what you made of your wife."
He worked faster, the gold rings in his nipples glinting, his braid swinging with each motion. The pleasure built in this unfamiliar body, coiling tighter and tighter. When he lowered his mouth to the tip and took me—Vega—between my own lips—his lips now—I couldn't hold back.
The orgasm ripped through me, a different kind of explosion than any kick or punch. He swallowed, his throat working in a way I'd never felt, then released me with a satisfied smile. Vega's cock—my cock now—still twitched, half-hard and sensitive.
"There," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of my former hand. "Now we understand each other, husband."
I was panting, each breath sending pain through Vega's ribs—my ribs now. "More," I managed, hips still twitching with aftershocks. "I want..."
"Shhh." He leaned close, my former breasts—his breasts now—pressing against the vest covering his old chest. "Your body is still healing. I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery on your face, you know. These ribs need time." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot against skin that was his but now mine: "We have all the time in the world, my love. When you're whole again, your wife will take you so much further."
He kissed the bandages covering Vega's ruined features—my ruined features now—then rose from the bed, adjusting his trousers with a satisfied smile. My body left the room with his swagger, the door clicking shut behind him.
I collapsed back against the pillows, remembering as Vega removed his breasts from my half-hard penis, the wetness left behind cooling in the air. My mind reeled with the obscene intimacy of what we'd just done. Three days in, and I was already lost, already thinking of this monster in my skin as "my wife." How many more until I didn't want to find my way back?
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
With the sorority girls having already taken well known countermeasures to deal with any would be panty thieves, he thinks the chances of completing the challenge are near zero.
However, when his best friend Jack claims to have a plan involving a little magic and burrowing the bodies of his crush Vanessa and her roommate Katy, he knows he is in for a long night ahead when things don't exactly end up going to plan...
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The floor of Delta Epsilon’s house was sticky.
Beer, cheap cologne, and stale pizza had seeped into the carpet like a second skin, and Philip had the honor of scrubbing it clean while half a dozen brothers lounged on couches watching basketball highlights.
“Missed a spot,” one of them called, deliberately tilting a red Solo cup so that the last of his drink bled out onto the carpet inches from Philip’s sponge.
Philip clenched his jaw. He’d been degraded all semester, fetching fast food at three in the morning, running errands that skirted the edge of being criminal, serving as human furniture during drinking games. He told himself it would be worth it. Delta Epsilon’s parties were legendary, the kind of place girls lined up to get into. More importantly, alumni connections meant a shot at internships that led to real careers. You suffered now, you cashed in later.
Jack, naturally, thrived. He was perched on the arm of a sofa, balancing a tray of wings for two seniors, grinning like the humiliation was a party of its own.
“How’s that knee grease holding up, Phil?” he teased, eyebrows bouncing. Philip muttered something under his breath, pressing the sponge hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He’d thought pledging with his best friend would make things easier. Instead, Jack’s bottomless energy only made Philip feel like the boring one, always one step away from quitting.
The pledge master, Trent, finally called them over once the brothers had eaten their fill.
“You’ve made it further than many,” he said, addressing both Philip and Jack while tapping the ash off his cigar. “Scrubbing toilets, babysitting drunk brothers, taking whatever punishment we throw at you, you did it all without complaint. But Delta doesn’t hand out membership for free. There’s one last hurdle.”
Jack’s eyes lit up, while Philip felt his stomach knot. Trent leaned forward. “You’ve got until Saturday morning to bring us proof that you’re worthy of being Delta Epsilons. And by proof, I mean the underwear of one of the Theta sisters across the street.”
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Someone whistled. Another shouted, “Better hope they’re lace!”
Philip’s face burned hot. He’d expected something brutal. A dangerous stunt, or maybe even a tattoo or branding, not…this. Not something that felt like the set-up to a police record for being a creep.
Jack, of course, grinned like he’d just been handed a golden ticket. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Piece of felony,” Philip muttered.
Trent ignored the comment. “You get caught, that’s your problem. Theta girls are sick of pranks. They’ll eat you alive if they catch you sneaking around. Fail, and you’ll have to re-pledge next semester, if we even let you back in. Succeed, and you’ll be full brothers by sunrise.”
He flicked his cigar ash into an empty beer can, and the matter was closed. Philip and Jack were dismissed like servants, slipping out into the cool night air. The frat house behind them thumped with bass as the next round of drinking games began.
Across the street, the Theta house glowed with warm yellow light, its windows alive with the silhouettes of girls laughing, moving and living in a world that felt forbidden.
Philip shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “This is insane. They want us to break into a sorority house. Forget expulsion, that’s actual jail time if we’re caught and reported.”
Jack slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Come on, man. It’s tradition. Everybody who ever wore Delta letters has done something crazy like this. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Philip shrugged him off. “You mean you’ll figure it out. And drag me with you.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Exactly. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” That phrase, I’ve got a plan, was the single most dangerous thing Jack could say. Philip knew better, but as he stared up at the Theta house, he couldn’t shake the truth. They’d come too far to back out now.
Philip assumed Jack’s “plan” would be something stupid but doable. Like sneaking into the Theta laundry room, bribing a janitor, or maybe finessing a stolen bra from lost-and-found.
What he didn’t expect, as their deadline creeped ever closer, was Jack pulling a battered paperback out of his backpack like he’d just smuggled the Necronomicon out of the library and declaring their troubles were about to be a thing of the past.
“What is that?” Philip asked, eyeing the faded title embossed with moons and symbols.
“Wiccan Rites and Rituals of the Body,” Jack said with a grin so wide it could split his face. “This baby is going to get us in.”
Philip stared. “That’s not a plan you idiot. That’s…props from a bad horror movie.”
“Correction,” Jack said, flipping through pages until he landed on one marked with a sticky note. “It’s a possession spell. All we need is something personal from the Thetas. Hair is perfect. One strand, and we’re golden.”
Philip blinked. “Hair. You want us to pluck a strand off someone’s head, mix it into some potion, and what? Astral-project into their underwear drawer?”
Jack leaned forward, whispering even though there was nobody else around. “Exactly. But into them, not their underwear drawer.”
For a moment, Philip couldn’t even find words. His friend was dead serious. His blue eyes glittered with the manic light of a man who believed in his own insanity. Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jack, you need help.”
“Correction again. We need help, and this is it. Think about it. We don’t sneak around, we don’t break and enter, we just become them. Walk right in the front door. Grab what we need and walk back out again. Easy as pie.”
Philip wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Jack this was why pledges got expelled, why college urban legends started with two idiots reading a so-called spell book. But something about Jack’s certainty unsettled him.
“How do you even plan to get the hair?” Philip asked, deciding to humor him.
Jack smirked. “You’re partnered with Vanessa in chem lab. I’m with her roommate, Katy. Both of them happen to belong to the Theta Sorority. Boom. Easy.”
Philip’s stomach lurched. Vanessa, the Vanessa, the girl he’d spent the better part of a semester trying not to stare at. She was sharp, funny, gorgeous, and so out of his league it hurt. The idea of stealing a strand of her hair wasn’t just impossible, it was mortifying.
“Jack, if I even look at her hair the wrong way she’ll know. She’ll tell everyone. I’ll be branded as the campus creep for the rest of my life.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Relax. I’ll take care of mine. You just…fumble your way through like usual. She likes you, right? I’m sure she’s called you sweet before. She won’t even notice.”
Lab that afternoon was a fluorescent blur of glassware and nerves. Bunsen burners hissed, and the sharp scent of acetone hung in the air. Vanessa tied her glossy black hair into a messy bun as she leaned over the counter, the soft hum she made under her breath cutting through the low chatter of other pairs.
Philip adjusted the clamp on their stand and tried to steady his hands, pretending to check the thermometer while sneaking a glance at her profile. The long lashes, the soft curve of her cheek when she smiled. He’d barely worked up the nerve to say something to her, when the door swung open and Ryan Hale strolled in.
Ryan wasn’t a student in their class, he was a teaching assistant who was busy with his Masters. The kind of nerd who looked more like he belonged in a movie poster than a chemistry lab. The Henry Cavill of the campus. Tall, effortlessly confident, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing forearms that probably did not belong to someone who spent his evenings doing titration reports.
“Need a hand, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth enough to make the words sound like an inside joke.
Vanessa’s whole face lit up. “Ryan! You’re still hanging around the underclassmen? I thought you were too cool for basic chem.”
“Guess I missed the fun crowd.” He winked, stepping close enough that Philip caught the faint smell of his cologne. Something woodsy and smug. Philip’s stomach twisted. He busied himself pretending to check their notes, but every word between Vanessa and Ryan pulled his focus like a hook through his ribs.
“Still showing off that perfect technique, huh?” Ryan teased, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Could use someone like you to calibrate my disastrous love life.”
Vanessa laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I told you last time, you need better lab partners, not better lines.”
“Maybe I just need one who actually likes me,” he said, voice dipping into something low and knowing. “You still wearing that purple dress that makes everyone else forget the experiment?”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Keep talking, and you’ll set the sprinklers off again.”
Ryan chuckled, backing away with a little salute. “Worth it.”
Philip’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He shifted his beaker just to make noise. “Vanessa, uh, the solution’s ready,” he muttered.
She turned back, still smiling, a faint pink on her cheeks. “Right, sorry, I got distracted.” The way she said it made Philip want to vanish into the nearest fume hood.
Ryan gave him a nod that felt more like dismissal. “Good work, man. Don’t let her boss you around too much.”
Philip forced a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Ryan finally moved on to check another table, the tension in Philip’s shoulders eased only slightly. Vanessa was still smiling to herself, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “He’s such a dork,” she said fondly.
“Yeah,” Philip replied, voice flat. “A real geek.”
She glanced at him, oblivious. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Fine,” he lied. His pulse thundered. He hated how obvious it felt. The jealousy, the ridiculous possessiveness over a girl who barely saw him as more than a partner for lab reports.
Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was all charm. Katy, tall, athletic, focused on the work at hand with cool intensity, rolled her eyes at his constant jokes, but she didn’t seem to actively hate him. Jack’s hands moved casually, as if the experiment was background noise to whatever ridiculous story he was spinning.
Philip’s heart pounded. He couldn’t do it. Not to Vanessa. The thought of deliberately stealing a piece of her felt worse than any frat punishment. But then her bun slipped, and a single strand drifted onto the lab bench.
Philip froze and stared at it like it was radioactive. One perfect strand, right there. All he had to do was pick it up without her noticing. His hand twitched. Sweat beaded at his hairline. Vanessa reached for the pipette, and he panicked. He grabbed the strand too quickly, shoving it into his pocket like a thief.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “You good?” she asked.
Philip’s laugh came out strangled. “Yeah. Totally. Fine. Just, science, you know?”
She gave him a strange look, then turned back to the experiment. Across the room, Jack caught his eye and subtly flashed a triumphant thumbs-up. He mouthed, Got it. Philip wanted to throw up.
After class, they met outside, ducking into a quiet corner near the library. Jack pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and wiggled it proudly. Katy’s strand of hair gleaming inside. Philip shoved his hands deep into his hoodie, where Vanessa’s strand burned against his palm like contraband.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “If she’d caught me, I’d have been ruined.”
Jack was practically buzzing. “But she didn’t. We’ve got everything. Today, we drink the potion. Tomorrow, we’re legends.”
Philip stared at him, feeling his chest tighten. It wasn’t the frat house that scared him anymore. It was Jack’s unwavering certainty, the gleam in his eye like he’d already crossed a line Philip couldn’t even see.
Back in their room, Jack had cleared his desk, pushing aside textbooks and laundry to make space for the battered paperback and a mess of supplies that looked like they’d been stolen from a Spirit Halloween clearance bin. Mason jars, candles, a bag of salt and something that Philip really, really hoped was red food coloring.
Philip sat on the bed, arms crossed, trying not to look at the plastic bag in his pocket. Inside was Vanessa’s hair, a single dark strand that felt heavier than lead.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm, and we’ll get kicked out before we even fail the pledge.”
Jack was hunched over the desk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he measured powder into a chipped coffee mug.
“Correction. You’re going to stop being so negative, because we’re going to waltz into Theta’s house like we own it and take our time finding the perfect proof. Something small, sexy and lacy. Then we hand it to Trent and we’re done. Easiest initiation ever and we’re lifelong members of the Delta Epsilon brotherhood.”
Philip shook his head. “You actually believe all the crap coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Because I know this is going to work.” Jack’s grin was feral. He held up his mug, fizzing with something dark and faintly purple. “And very soon, you’re going to have to swallow all your pessimistic, dismissive words and admit that I’m the GOAT.” Without waiting for a response, he dropped Katy’s wavy strand of hair into the concoction.
Philip looked at his own brew, waiting for him on the desk. It reeked faintly of vinegar and something metallic. “This looks like cough syrup that went bad.”
Jack grabbed the paperback, muttering words under his breath. Latin? Gibberish? Philip couldn’t tell. The candlelight threw shadows across Jack’s face, making him look more unhinged than usual.
“Jack,” Philip said slowly, “You get that if this doesn’t work, we may be drinking poison?”
“Trust me,” Jack said, gesturing meaningfully at Philip’s mug. Those two words had been the prelude to every disaster Philip had lived through with him. The broken window in high school. The near arrest in freshman year. And now this.
Philip sighed, pulled Vanessa’s hair from his pocket, and dropped it into the liquid. It curled and fizzed, dissolving into the mixture like it had never been.
“Bottoms up,” Jack said cheerfully, chugging the contents in one long pull.
Philip raised his mug. The liquid shimmered oddly, like heat ripples above asphalt. He pinched his nose and tossed it back. It burned. Like swallowing melted pennies chased with bleach. His stomach roiled instantly, bile rising up.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked, slamming the cup down. “That’s not magic, that’s battery acid.”
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing hard, but his grin didn’t falter. “Wait for it.”
Philip blinked and the dorm room folded in on itself. Candlelight bent sideways and the next breath tasted like coffee and paper. He was not in their room anymore. He was sitting at a table under tall windows, late afternoon light spilling amber over open textbooks and half empty cups.
The scent was library quiet and caffeine. Hair slid across his cheek. Definitely not his. It was long and silky. His hands were smaller, nails pink, wrists delicate. The weight on his chest tugged when he breathed. He was looking through Vanessa’s eyes.
Across from him, Katy sat in a chair with a pen in her hand and her mouth parted in a quiet, startled sound that belonged to Jack. “Holy shit,” Jack whispered in Katy’s voice.
Philip’s pulse spiked. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked under his breath, before the realization hit him fully. Jack’s crazy plan worked. He glanced down, eyes bugging at the soft cleavage he encountered. He was on the verge of completely freaking out. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. The sound of Vanessa's voice only sent him spiraling further into chaos.
Jack’s grin curled slow and wicked as he looked down at himself and then around them. He started to pull the top of Katy’s tank forward so he could peek at her breasts, before Philip shot him a look that could choke a man at twenty paces.
“Don’t,” Philip hissed. “Katy would never do something like that in public!”
Jack laughed, high and breathy in Katy’s voice. “You’re telling me you’re not even curious? Come on, man. We’re in. This is unreal. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to them when we touch them?”
Philip swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from spiraling into sensory overload.
“This…this isn’t possible,” he whispered. But the evidence pressed in from every side. The scent of citrus shampoo in his hair, the tug of bra straps against his shoulders, the fullness in his chest when he inhaled. The emptiness where his cock should be.
Philip’s eyes darted anxiously around the library cafe. “We need to get out of here before someone notices something off,” Philip said. “People pick up on the smallest wrong note.” He was terrified that someone would realize the girls were possessed.
He spent way too much time staring at Vanessa, but that didn’t mean he could copy her actions. If anyone watched them closely, they’d know immediately that there were impostors inhabiting Vanessa and Katy.
“We should go back to their room and fool around,” Jack suggested immediately, hands on Katy’s breasts, squeezing idly.
“Jesus, Jack, stop that! They’re in public. We’re in public…”
This was such a mind-fuck. Clearly they were literally possessing Vanessa and Katy’s bodies. Where was Vanessa's consciousness now? Asleep? Aware? He didn’t feel like someone was watching him, so hopefully she had no idea what he was doing. And where were his and Jack’s bodies? Still in their dorm room? Fuck. If he’d known there was any chance of this working, he’d never have gone through with it.
“Come on bestie, let’s go home,” Jack cooed at him. “I’m just dying to get out of these pesky clothes.”
Jack clearly had zero second thoughts about any of this. Then again, Jack had never had a second thought in his life. He rarely had first ones. Philip decided that only made him a bigger idiot for always following his friend’s crazy plans.
Philip took a deep breath, gathered Vanessa’s things and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder before getting up on shaky legs. The plan was to reach Theta house without interacting with anyone who knew the girls.
Vanessa was outgoing and popular, so he kept his eyes trained on the ground to avoid any accidental socializing.
He was doing his best to focus on the mission, but every move betrayed him. Vanessa’s curves shifted differently from his own. Her hips swayed without permission when he walked. The tug of the denim skirt around her thighs was tighter than he was used to, the waistband sitting higher, the soft curtain of hair continuously falling into his eyes. And he kept fighting the urge to run his fingertips over her lustrous, satiny skin.
Philip thanked his lucky stars that it was late afternoon sliding toward evening and most of the Theta girls were either at dinner, in class, or busy with the mixer prep.
The second piece of good luck was the fact that the first year members of the sorority had the downstairs bedrooms and Katy and Vanessa had their names picked out in glittery wooden letters on their door. Which saved him and Jack from being caught wandering aimlessly into someone else’s room and rifling through their underwear.
“Come on,” he hissed at Jack, nearly having heart failure when he heard Vanessa’s sweet, bubbly voice, before remembering it came from his own mouth.
As soon as they entered the room, Philip froze like a deer in headlights.
The room smelled like them. A heady mix of perfume, make-up and detergent. Several photos of Vanessa and Katy were pinned to the notice board. Keys with a little Theta charm lay on a desk. Lip gloss on each bedside table. A folded flyer about the upcoming mixer. Every object made him feel like an intruder in a life that wasn’t his.
Then he looked up and saw his reflection thrown back at him from the floor length mirror fastened to the opposite wall. Vanessa stared back. Her round face framed by shiny black hair, lips glossed in pale pink, eyes wide with Philip’s panic.
“This isn’t possible,” he murmured hoarsely.
Jack crossed the room with Katy’s energetic stride, hair swinging over her shoulder. He leaned down, far too close, eyes alight with mischief.
“Possible or not, it’s happening. And we’ve got hours before it wears off. Wanna play?” Philip’s pulse thundered. He was in Vanessa’s body. Jack was in Katy’s. He had no idea what their real bodies were doing or where, only that they were not here. For the first time since pledging Delta, he realized he was more terrified of his best friend than of any frat brother.
Jack was practically bouncing around like a kid in a candy store, repeatedly mentioning how awesome it is to have tits.
“This is insane,” Philip muttered, running a hand through Vanessa’s long hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, brushing the back of his neck, constantly in his peripheral vision. Every little tickle made him twitch. “I feel like I’m drowning in shampoo.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. It’s fucking awesome. Look at this.” He shook his head, letting Katy’s long, dark hair fall over her shoulders, framing her face, then bit her lower lip between her teeth and winked at Philip seductively. “Tell me this doesn’t look hot.”
Philip turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of the curve of Katy’s collarbone, the tan line along her shoulder where a sports bra must’ve once sat. He gritted his teeth.
“We’re only here to grab underwear and then we get out. That’s it.” Jack made a distracted sound, which didn’t entirely sound like agreement.
He was testing everything. Squeezing Katy’s biceps and delighting in the subtle muscle definition, stretching out one long leg and flexing her calf muscles, even bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if testing how springy she was.
Philip was still focused on the reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, and the image followed, familiar and foreign all at once. He raised a hand. She raised a hand. Jack appeared beside him, sliding Katy’s body into view. She was taller, leaner, her shoulders broader than Vanessa’s.
Katy was studious and fairly quiet normally, but Jack’s grin warped her into something hungry. A femme fatale in search of her next prey.
“Dude, look at us,” Jack whispered. “We actually pulled it off. We’re fucking hot!”
Philip swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. “We shouldn’t be looking. This is… it’s too much.”
“Too much fun,” Jack corrected. He pressed closer to the mirror, tilting Katy’s head, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue just to see how it looked. He laughed in delight. “God, the way this mouth moves, it’s unreal.”
Philip tried to drag his eyes away, but curiosity betrayed him. His gaze dipped, catching sight of Vanessa’s chest in the reflection. The neckline of her shirt clung close, clearly showing the outline of her nipples. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away sharply. He was not going to lift her top and take a peek.
“You’re staring,” Jack teased, slipping behind him and resting Katy’s hands on Vanessa’s hips.
Katy’s reflection loomed over Vanessa’s smaller frame in the mirror. “What’s it like, having the body of your crush? Bet you’ve fantasized about having unfettered access to her before. Touching every inch of her. Running your palms over her perky tits. Cupping her pussy.”
Philip’s face went hot. “Shut up.”
Jack leaned closer, his voice dropping, Katy’s lips brushing dangerously near Philip’s ear. “She’s soft, isn’t she? Curvy. Everything you imagined. And she’s right here. Aching to know what your hands would feel like sliding all over her.”
Philip’s breath caught. He could feel the warmth of Jack’s presence, the whisper of Katy’s hair brushing his cheek. He tried to step away, but Vanessa’s body didn’t obey with the same steadiness as his own.
His hip bumped the desk, throwing him off balance. Jack’s hand shot out, steadying him. Grabbing his hips instead of his arm. Philip stiffened. The pressure of Katy’s palm against Vanessa’s midriff was startling. A hot reminder that this wasn’t a joke anymore.
“Jack,” Philip said, voice low with warning. But Jack only grinned, tightening his grip slightly, fingertips sliding along the hem of Vanessa’s shirt, tickling the strip of skin underneath.
“Relax. We’ve got time before the potion wears off. Why waste it panicking when we could explore?”
Philip shoved his hand away, heart hammering too fast. “We came here for one reason. Don’t fuck this up with your usual bullshit.”
Jack backed off in mock surrender, leaning against the wall and raising Katy’s hands. “Fine, fine. You want to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity by being a pussy, instead of playing with one, go ahead.”
Philip ignored him and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, coming face to face with the mother lode.
A mass of lace and cotton, bright colors and neutrals, G-strings and briefs and bras, all folded neatly in little piles. He fumbled, pulling out a pair at random, trying not to notice the little bow stitched along the waistband, or theorize about which of the girls it belonged to.
“Got it,” he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket.
“We should leave and go and stash this somewhere so we can retrieve it when we’re us again.”
“Plenty of time for that. Are you seriously passing up the opportunity to find out what turns your crush on?”
Philip’s chest heaved, the bra beneath his shirt pinching tighter with the movement. Every tiny sensation was amplified in this shape. He had no idea girls had such sensitive bodies. If Vanessa's neck and shoulders were this responsive to stimuli, what about the more… delicate areas?
Jack leaned against the wall, watching his friend closely. Katy’s arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Philip avert his eyes.
“You really think you can ignore this?” Jack asked softly. “Ignore her?”
Philip didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, even as he tried to ignore it, every nerve in Vanessa’s body was alive with a tingling feeling he couldn’t shut off.
He told himself he wouldn’t look at the mirror again. That he had the underwear and all that was left to do was wait for the potion to burn off. But every time he moved, Vanessa’s body reminded him he wasn’t himself. The way her thighs brushed together when he shifted his stance. The heat trapped in the curve between her breasts. The way her nipples tightened when she saw the way Katy stared at her. The sudden, sharp contraction of pleasure between her legs.
Each detail was louder than thought. And Jack wouldn’t fucking give him space to breathe.
“You’re wound too tight,” Jack murmured, stepping closer again. Katy’s taller body loomed behind him, all lean lines and toned strength. He set Katy’s hands on Vanessa's shoulders from behind, massaging with deliberate slowness.
“Loosen up.”
Philip froze. The sensation was alien. Slender fingers pressing into the slope of Vanessa’s shoulders, kneading muscle softer than his own. His back arched without meaning to, chest pushing forward. He could feel the heat in his panties and almost smell the pheromones in the air.
“Jack-”
“Shh.”
Katy’s breath ghosted over his ear, warm and taunting. “Allow her to feel it. Her body isn’t fighting me. She likes this.”
Philip hated the way heat rippled through him at the words. The way Vanessa’s nipples pebbled instantly, turning aching and hard beneath her bra when Jack’s thumbs kept sensually running across her muscles.
He tried to step away, but Jack’s grip on her waist drew her back. Katy’s chest pressed flush against Vanessa’s back. Firm breasts molding against soft skin. Philip gasped, a small, betraying sound.
“That’s it,” Jack whispered, lips brushing the shell of Vanessa's ear. “You feel that, don’t you? How different it is?”
Philip bit his lip hard. But it didn’t stop his body from reacting. His chest ached with sensitivity, every brush of fabric against his nipples sparking hot shivers. His hips shifted against Jack’s hold, searching without meaning to. His ass pressing back, almost expecting to feel an erect cock there, relaxing when all he encountered was softness.
Jack slid one hand lower, over Vanessa’s flat stomach, fingertips grazing the waist of her denim skirt. Philip’s pulse spiked. He could feel the shape of her body in ways he’d only imagined.
“God, you’re actually shaking,” Jack teased. He pressed his palm harder, dragging upward until he cupped one of Vanessa’s breasts through her shirt. His hand molded perfectly to the curve, fingers sinking in slightly before closing over the nipples and pinching.
Philip jolted like he’d been shocked. The pressure sent heat exploding through him. So much sharper than he ever imagined. A moan slipped out, broken and needy, before he could stop it. Jack laughed low, his voice a husky echo in Katy’s mouth.
“I knew it. You’re loving this.”
Philip shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Vanessa’s breasts were soft in his own hands when Jack pulled them into place, squeezing and kneading.
The ache in his chest spread downward, a molten restlessness that coiled between his legs, where there was no longer any familiar weight. Only a slick, sensitive heat that made his thighs tense. Jack leaned closer, kissing the side of Vanessa's neck.
Katy’s lips left tingling sparks against her skin. He gasped again, tilting his head back without meaning to, giving Jack room to explore.
“You always wanted to know what she felt like, didn’t you?” Jack murmured between kisses. “Now you do. Every inch. Every little twitch. If you ever get the chance, you could make her cum in minutes.”
Philip squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to want this. But Vanessa’s body was singing beneath his skin, her curves hypersensitive to every touch, every squeeze. When Jack dragged his hand lower, cupping the swell of her ass through denim, Philip’s knees went weak. He stumbled, and they tumbled together onto the nearest bed. Vanessa’s smaller frame pinned beneath Katy’s.
Jack landed on top, grinning down, hair falling in a dark curtain around their faces. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” he said, voice husky. “I’ll do all the work and you can take notes in your head.”
Katy’s hips pressed down, grinding just enough for Philip to feel the press of her pussy against Vanessa's. The pleasure nearly made him see stars. What would it feel like if Katy actually touched her clit? Dragged her tongue over it? Sucked it between those soft lips?
Philip whimpered, his hands trapped between them, pressed against the curves of Katy’s sides. He could feel the warmth of skin through fabric. Every nerve screamed with arousal. Jack leaned down, lips hovering over his.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Philip’s heart thundered. His lips parted, and he didn’t know if he was going to say I don’t or kiss Katy. His pulse roared in his ears. He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s chest rising and falling too fast, her heartbeat thundering in her ribs like a trapped animal.
Jack hovered over him, Katy’s taller frame caging him against the mattress, their borrowed hair spilling together in a curtain that smelled faintly of fruit.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Philip rasped, but his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of arousal under the words.
Jack smirked. “I’m not joking.” He lowered Katy’s body until their breasts touched, brushing Katy’s peaked nipples against Vanessa’s rock hard ones. The friction alone made Philip gasp, heat shooting through him. It wasn’t like pressing chest-to-chest with another guy.
The give, the shape, the electric sting of nipples touching, every detail was overwhelming. He had no idea breasts were so receptive to the slightest touch. Vanessa's wasn’t even uncovered and they made him squirm.
“God,” he groaned before he could stop himself. Jack’s grin widened in satisfaction.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Every touch goes both ways. You squeeze her,” He pressed Katy’s hand down onto one of Vanessa’s breasts, forcing Philip to feel it fully, “And you are her.”
Philip arched into the contact despite himself. His hands moved up without any conscious thought. The weight of her breast in his palm, the nipple reacting instantly under his touch, each tiny spark flooded through him in a way his male body never reacted to anything but pressure on his cock.
He kneaded once, twice, and heat surged low in his stomach, between his thighs, turning his panties damp. His back bowed off the mattress, mouth falling open in a helpless sound.
Jack kissed him then. Katy’s mouth grazing Vanessa's jaw, the corner of her mouth, teasing as it moved around.
Every brush of her sweet lips left a wet, burning mark. Philip turned away, breathless, but Jack followed, biting gently at Vanessa’s neck until Philip gasped.
His thighs clenched hard. Something slick and molten was spreading there, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He could feel the absence, the soft, tender heat where his cock would usually be straining.
The pressure of denim against it only sharpened the ache. He needed Jack to touch Vanessa's pussy. He needed pressure. Jack ground down lightly and Philip bucked up helplessly, his own hands gripping Katy’s hips tight, chasing the friction he’d die without.
“Stop,” he panted, but the word broke halfway, turning into a moan. Jack chuckled low.
“Your body doesn’t want me to stop.” He kissed Vanessa again. Her lips plump, glossy, trembling beneath Katy’s teasing press. Philip’s breath hitched and his tongue flicked nervously against the edge of his teeth.
Every nerve screamed to close the distance, to taste what it felt like to kiss as a girl, to be kissed as a girl. Jack deepened the grind of their hips. Philip’s breath hitched sharply, a helpless whimper leaving his throat.
Heat surged through his belly, down his thighs, the ache between his legs swelling into a throbbing need. He arched against Katy, nails digging into her waist. There’s no way he was going to be able to say no. Jack had to make him cum.
Jack pulled back slightly, asking with twinkling eyes, “Shall we see how good Katy is at eating pussy?”
Philip knew what his answer should be, but his entire body was throbbing, yes yes yes.
Their mouths hovered a fraction apart, breaths mingling. The world narrowed to that single point of contact waiting to happen. Philip’s lips parted, ready, needy.
“Vanessa? Katy?” The voice cut through the fog like a blade, followed by the rap of knuckles on the door.
Philip’s eyes flew wide. Jack froze above him, both of them panting hard. “Vanessa, Katy!” another girl called from the hall. “We need you for the final discussions for tonight’s mixer!”
Silence. Only their ragged breaths, the hot press of bodies still locked together. Jack swore under his breath, rolling off Vanessa reluctantly.
“Just when things were about to get really good.”
Philip scrambled upright, Vanessa’s hair tangling in his face, chest heaving, nipples still hard and aching. He shoved shaky hands through the strands, trying to compose himself, though the slick heat between his thighs throbbed in open defiance.
He knew they should have kept their heads. If they let curiosity drag them off course they would blow the whole point of the night. The spell would end when it wanted and they had no idea when that would be.
Another knock. “Come on, you two! Hurry up! Megan saw you get in earlier, I know you’re in there.”
Jack smirked, tugging Katy’s tank top straight as if they hadn’t just been seconds from fucking each other into oblivion.
“Guess there’s more fun ahead. Don’t think you’re off the hook though, I’m still going to eat that pussy later and I fully expect to get repaid in kind.”
Philip sat frozen, heart still hammering, his mind spinning so fast he worried he might throw up.
All characters are 18 or older.
Rachel Smith came home from school exhausted. She did not want to think about going back to school for tomorrow, the tests she’d taken today alone had mentally drained her and going back tomorrow to finish the rest of them was not a pleasant thought. At least that would be their last day of testing for a while. I almost forgot Rachel thought as she plopped down onto the couch, I promised Elizabeth and Susan I'd check up on them.
Me: Hey all!
How were the tests?
Elizabeth: Ugh!
Don’t talk to me about them right now, alright?
Susan: I don’t think I did too well, honestly
Think I’m going to flunk biology at this rate…
I hope I’ll still be able to graduate though
Me: I’m not sure how the colleges will take that
You know, failing thing?
Susan: omg
Rachel, shut up.
Did you even do your tests?
Or were you doing your little “cheating”?
Rachel paused. Of course, she hadn’t cheated today, the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind to do so. Afterall, if she had, what would have been the point of all those sleepless nights studying for all this? But… I mean… for English, Matthew will be in the same class as me… Rachel swallowed, not sure if this was something she was really considering doing, then again, it would make her life a lot easier. As far as she knew, no one was able to tell what happened to them after she left, although there was the problem that she wouldn’t be able to stay inside them for too long, otherwise she might not have enough time to write down the answers on her own test.
Rachel shook her head and picked up her phone again:
Me:As if!
Unlike some people, I wouldn’t use my powers for selfish reasons!
Elizabeth: Girl,
You used them to see how large Trevor’s penis was
Me: That wasn’t selfish!
That was for science!
Anyway
I promise you girls I didn’t cheat
Well, she didn’t cheat today anyway. But tomorrow, well that was another story. Although Elizabeth and Susan didn’t need to know that. It wouldn’t be fair to them if they knew she was having an easier time just because of something like this. It’s funny how it all happened.
There were three of them, Rachel, Elizabeth, and Susan. Susan was the shortest of them, with tanned skin and dark hair. Elizabeth was the tallest, standing taller than even some of the boys at their school. Unlike Susan and Rachel, Elizabeth had lean muscles all along her body, although most people wouldn’t notice as she kept her clothes on the baggier side. And then there was Rachel who stood shorter than Elizabeth, but taller than Susan. Rachel’s red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and she was laughing at a joke Susan said.
They had taken a break from studying for their upcoming tests when Rachel noticed a yard sale in their neighborhood run by an old woman. When asked, the woman gave them a sad smile and told them most of these things belonged to either her late husband or her daughter, both of whom sadly passed away in a car accident a few weeks back.
While Elizabeth was consoling the woman, Rachel decided to look through some of the belongings that were up for sale. Some old clothes, a few sports equipment, and some books. Rachel paused when she noticed a box of books mostly hidden behind some golf clubs. She peered over the top, and nearly squealed when she saw they were first edition copies of Jane Smith’s Dearest Diary series. Is this the whole collection? Rachel wondered, flipping through some of the books in the box. It was indeed.
“Excuse me?” Rachel asked, “How much for the box of them?”
The old woman gave a small smile and walked closer, examining the thing that caught Rachel’s eye, “For the set, I’d say twenty dollars should do the trick,” the woman replied, “Hazel loved this when she was a kid.”
Rachel eagerly handed the woman the money and as soon as she took the box in her hands the woman piped up again, “Oh, I think my dear Tom might’ve left something in one of those books. He always liked getting into some trouble, if you find it it’s yours to keep!”
Trouble? Rachel smiled and waved for Elizabeth and Susan to follow her as they went back to her house. Once they were in his room, Rachel immediately got to work making room in her bookshelf to store those books. While she was doing so, Elizabeth and Susan were making light jokes at her expense, out of all the things in that yard sale, Rachel got books, most of which she already owned.
Of course you wouldn’t understand the pleasure of a first edition book you love Rachel thought, placing five of the twelve books in her bookcase. Something slipped out from between the pages of book six though. Rachel frowned, and bent down to pick it up, “What’s that?” Susan asked, as she and Elizabeth got closer.
“It looks like a letter,” Rachel replied, picking it up in her hands.
“Should we open it?” Susan asked.
“We probably shouldn’t,” Elizabeth replied, “it’s not ours.”
“That old lady said we could have whatever we find inside.” Rachel reminded her, getting ready to open it.
Elizabeth stepped forward and made a swipe for the letter, “What if it’s something dangerous? Like… drugs or something?”
Rachel managed to fend her off and Susan helped hold Elizabeth back, “We won’t know until we try. Besides, aren’t you two just the tiniest bit curious?”
Elizabeth swallowed, but didn’t answer. Susan, however, was nodding her head enthusiastically. That was all Rachel needed and she opened the envelope, not sure what might be inside.
To little fanfare, all that was inside was just a letter, “It looks like a simple letter,” Rachel revealed with a sigh.
“What’s it say?” Susan asked.
Rachel held the letter up, the handwriting wasn’t the greatest, and neither was the paper quality, but eventually she managed to work out the words. She read aloud:
To Hazel,
I want you to have something of mine. It’s a little trick I’ve picked up from my travels when I was younger. Maybe one day I’ll tell you where I found it, but until that day comes, I will leave with this and this alone.
Now, I don’t want to tell you much of the details of what I got up to with this little trick of mine, but just know that I know what to look for so don’t you think about causing any trouble with this, alright?
Rachel frowned when she tried to read beyond that point. She wasn’t sure if maybe the old man’s writing got particularly bad or if he was writing in another language, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was written after. It all just looked like a bunch of squiggly symbols.
“What’s wrong?” Susan asked.
“I can’t read anything else,” Rachel replied.
“Well maybe that’s for the best then,” Elizabeth said as Rachel stared harder at the words, “afterall, this seems like something intimate between a dad and his daughter, I don’t think it’s really our place to - OH MY GOD!”
At first, Rachel wasn’t sure what got Elizabeth so excited, and then Susan started freaking out too. They were shouting at her to drop the letter, and Rachel looked at them, not sure why they were freaking out, but then she realized the paper was burning in her hands.
She sucked in a breath, but before she could even think of letting go, the fire completely enveloped the paper, however, as the fire burned Rachel swore the strange words glowed white hot against the fire. What happened next, Rachel wasn’t exactly sure, the fire and the words flowed into her and Rachel felt something tugging at her very being. Suddenly, she felt herself lurching forward and she stumbled back until her back hit the wall.
“Ow!” Rachel cried out as the back of her head protested in pain.
“Rachel, oh my god, are you alright?” Susan cried.
Rachel, still with her eyes closed, replied, “I’m fine, just a little bump.”
“Elizabeth, this is serious!” Susan nearly shrieked.
Rachel opened her eyes, and she noticed she was taller, and her body felt stronger than it had before. She wiped some stray blonde strands from her face -- wait, blonde hair?
She looked over at Susan and saw she was crouching over Rachel’s own body. Rachel stared in horror, lifting up her hands to see they weren’t actually her hands, but were actually Elizabeth’s.
“Elizabeth!” Susan hissed, “Don’t just stand there! Get help!”
“I’m not Elizabeth!” Rachel breathed.
“What?”
“I said I’m not Elizabeth!” Rachel said, “I’m Rachel,” she pointed to her own body on the floor, “that… that’s my body… except,” she looked down at herself again, “I’m not in it.”
“Is Elizabeth in there?” Susan asked.
Hello? Rachel thought, Hello? Elizabeth! Are you there? She shook her head and crouched down beside her own body. Her body was still breathing, that was good, at least it wouldn’t die without her inside. She tried poking and prodding, but no response.
“Elizabeth isn’t in this body,” Rachel replied, “and it looks like mine’s empty.”
Before either of them could think of what happened, the door opened and Rachel’s mom came in. She was gasping for breath, “Girls! What happened? Why were you screaming?”
“O-oh! Mo-Mrs. Smith!” Rachel began, trying to think of a way out of this, “There was… a spider hiding in the books! A big one! It scared us all until we managed to kill it, but… I think Rachel fainted from the sight of it.”
Rachel’s mom sighed, “Well, that’s alright,” she frowned at the sight of Rachel’s body unconscious on the floor, “I think you should make sure Rachel didn’t hurt herself when she fell, it could be serious.”
“We will,” Susan piped up, “thanks, Mrs. Smith!”
With that, Rachel’s mom, thankfully left the room and Rachel and Susan were still trying to figure out what happened. Am I trapped here? Rachel wondered, How do I get back to my body?
“Can you get out of her?” Susan asked.
“I don’t know!” Rachel replied, running her fingers through Elizabeth’s blonde hair, “I’m-I’m trying to think!”
“Well what happened that made you go inside her?” Susuan asked.
“I-I-I don’t know!” Rachel hissed, “I just felt something pulling at me and one second I was in my body and the next I’m in Elizabeth’s!”
Susan looked around, trying to see if there were any remains of the paper left that might explain what happened. While she was doing so, Rachel was taking a few deep breaths as she looked back at her body on the floor. Alright, I’ll… see if I can’t replicate that, somehow.
Sitting down, Rachel closed her eyes and imagined herself, a ghost of herself, getting outside of Elizabeth’s body. She kept the image, concentrating harder and harder until she felt something, like a hook pulling at her. Is it working? Can I get out of here?
Rachel focused on that feeling and imagined that hook pulling her out of Elizabeth’s body. The feeling of pulling grew stronger and stronger until Elizabeth shuddered and Rachel was able to slip out. Only… she wasn’t back in her body.
She floated outside, like a ghost. From this, she was able to see her body still on the floor and Elizabeth slowly regaining consciousness. She went over towards her body, feeling a slight pull, but hesitated when she noticed Susan was still searching for any clue of what might’ve happened, crouching down to look for any remains of that strange letter.
Rachel smiled, feeling a little mischievous, it wouldn’t be fair if only Liz got possessed, afterall. She floated closer to Susan and felt a slight pull as she got closer. She plunged herself into Susuan just as she was standing up and Susan shuddered, gasped, and then Rachel opened her eyes and found herself in Susan’s body.
Elizabeth groaned, “Ow… I think I hit my head… Oh my-! Rachel! Are you-?”
“I’m fine,” Rachel replied, facing Elizabeth.
“Susan, this isn’t the time for joking around, I think Rachel’s-”
Rachel held up a hand, “Liz, relax, it’s me, Rachel. I think that letter was a spell of some kind… it put me in your body and then I was able to get out and decided to possess Susan.”
Elizabeth swallowed, frowning, “You really expect me to believe that?”
“I know it sounds far-fetched, but it’s the truth! Look, would Susan really be trying to mess with you if I was really in danger?”
The wheels were turning behind Elizabeth’s eyes, but Rachel knew she still didn’t believe this. “Prove it,” she said, “Tell me something only Rachel would know.”
Rachel thought for a moment, but decided this might be the perfect opportunity to mess with Elizabeth for a bit. “You panicked in the fifth grade when you forgot to buy a gift for Susan’s birthday and had to piggyback off my gift. In middle school you decided to tell me that you thought boys were icky and had no idea why Susan was so interested in them, going as far as calling Maxwell, her current crush at the time, a loser dweeb,” Rachel saw Elizabeth’s expression changing from skeptical to disbelief and knew she believed her, but decided to keep going, “in freshman year you came out to me as a lesbian and I assured you that Susan would accept you, too, and after a week of planning you came out as a lesbian. The day afterwards, I decided to tell you I was bisexual and then told Susan the day after…” Elizabeth was looking a bit red in the face now, “and last year, you and I shared a kiss behind the school to test things out. We didn’t tell Susan and while we fooled around, we decided it was better to stay as friends.”
Elizabeth was covering her face with her hands now, “Jeez, I believed you after the second thing, you didn’t need to keep going.”
Rachel giggled and gave Elizabeth a quick peck on the cheek. She barely had time to react before Elizabeth lashed out, swiping at her with her hand. Rachel kept laughing, although she made sure to cover her face with her arms, “Woah! Careful, Liz! This is Susan’s body, you know!”
“I know,” Elizabeth growled, “and can you please get out of her? I’m already freaking out enough now.”
Rachel smiled and prepared herself to leave again. The pull came easier now, and she was able to easily slip out of Susan’s body and entered her own. She got up, wincing as she felt where her body had hit the floor when she flew out of it. Ow! I guess I have to be careful when I leave because I’ll feel the pain when I come back in! Ow!
While Rachel was tending to the ache in her head, Susan got up and looked around, confused as to why she was no longer near the bookshelf. She noticed, however, that both Elizabeth and Rachel were up. “What happened?” Susan asked slowly, “No way, Rachel? Did you possess me?”
“I thought it was the best way to explain to Elizabeth what happened,” Rachel replied, still rubbing her head, “Don’t worry, nothing happened while you were gone.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, looking at Rachel with a dark expression, “nothing happened.”
“So neither of you were aware of anything while I was inside you?” Rachel asked, starting to get to her feet.
“Last thing I remembered before coming to was freaking out because that letter was on fire,” Elizabeth replied, “after that… I woke up on the floor.”
“Same,” Susan replied, “I was just looking for anything that might tell us what was happening when everything went black and then I was on the floor.”
After that little episode, the three of them decided to test out potential limits for Rachel’s powers. As far as they can tell, there was no distance limit to how far away she can get from her body, nor did there appear to be a time limit to how long Rachel can stay outside her body, although she didn’t want to stay out of it for too long as her body still needed to eat. As a ghost, Rachel wasn’t able to travel very fast, only going about walking speed, but she was able to go through walls and fly. She didn’t test out if she could possess animals because she was scared she might not be able to leave.
The three of them had some fun for her powers, with one of the first things Rachel did was possess Susan’s crush, Trevor, and go through his phone to look for any clues about what he might be interested in. Rachel found him alone in his room studying when she came upon him. As she slipped inside, Trevor shuddered and gasped, “What the f-!” before Rachel completely took over.
So, this is what it’s like being a boy, Rachel thought, flexing her arms, I could get used to this, anyway, time to see if I can find anything he’s interested in. His phone was, thankfully, unlocked and after combing through it, she gasped when she found his gallery and the stuff that was inside it. There were numerous pictures of girls in various states of undress, Rachel recognized them as being in her same grade and covered her mouth. Oh my… I never would’ve thought Trevor got around this much!
These pictures looked like they were taken by the girls themselves too, and they usually winked or smiled at the camera, no doubt intending this as a gift for Trevor for later. I need to tell Susan, now! she quickly messaged Susan from Trevor’s phone before deleting the conversation on his end so he wouldn’t have any evidence that she had been messing around with his stuff.
Rachel sighed and was about to leave Trevor’s body when she felt something pressing hard against her pants. Don’t tell me… she looked down and gasped when she saw Trevor’s boner winking at her. She licked her lips, she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, but… well she was always curious about what masturbating with a penis felt like and Trevor had plenty of material on his phone to get her going.
I'm going to masturbate as a boy!
Susan: Elizabeth is saying not to, but I wanna see a dick pic!
Alright! Before she could second guess the morality of the situation, Rachel got to her feet and locked herself in the bathroom before ripping off Trevor’s pants. Trevor’s penis wasn’t anything special, a bit on the smaller and slimmer side, but it reacted quickly to Rachel’s touch. She sent a quick picture to Susan before erasing all the evidence from Trevor’s phone before she got to work.
She opened Trevor’s gallery again, scrolling through the various pictures he had, all of it was making her feel warm and she quickly discovered a rhythm to stroking his cock. Mmh, Veronica definitely has a nice body! Rachel thought, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, as she stared at a photo of a mostly naked Veronica, And Abigail's hot! Who knew she was hiding all that under her baggy clothes? Trevor’s dick was twitched in her hand as she scrolled his gallery, the pleasure beginning to overcome her. It was much faster than masturbating as a girl, and she could feel the pressure rising within herself. With one final grunt, Rachel experienced her first orgasm as a guy and decided it would be funny to leave Trevor in his own sperm soaked mess.
Susan decided not to pursue Trevor, not because of the various pictures on his phone, but because she thought his dick was too small, but Rachel thought she was caring too much about the wrong things, it felt perfect to her, the pictures on his phone, however, that would have turned her off of him if she had even been interested.
It was crazy to think that had all only been a few days ago, and now here she was, in class once again about to use her power to help her cheat on her tests. It was easy enough getting out of her own skin, she just had to make sure to make it look like she was thinking and not passed out in class. After leaving her body, she made her way to Matthew without much trouble and got inside of him.
As usual, there was a slight struggle as her consciousness overpowered the person already in here, but thankfully all Matthew did was let out a small gasp. Alright, I’m in! Rachel quickly flipped through Matthew’s test, doing her best to memorize what answers he’d pick before she returned to her own body.
As she left Matthew though, she saw something strange when she came back out. For a moment, she thought she saw a blur of something vaguely person-shaped slip into the body of one of the girls in class, a quiet girl with big glasses named Vanessa, someone Rachel rarely spoke to, but had heard some of the boys whisper about excitedly. At first, Rachel thought she imagined it until Vanessa gave the telltale shudder and gasped. What?
A wicked smile etched itself on Vanessa’s mouth and she raised her hand and asked to leave to go to the bathroom. Rachel was curious, wanting to see what was going on before she remembered she hadn’t written down any of the answers. Quickly, she returned to her own body and copied down the answers she’d gotten from Matthew, making sure to occasionally mark a different answer so she didn’t get flagged for cheating. Although how exactly they would prove she’d cheated was beyond her, it was better not to take any chances here.
From there, Rachel waited, keeping an eye on the clock. She’d finished her own test and almost an hour passed but Vanessa still wasn’t back. I need to go check on her. Putting her head down, Rachel slipped out of her body and left the classroom. She heard Vanessa, or whoever was inside Vanessa, say she was going to the bathroom so that’s where Rachel headed.
She slipped inside and immediately heard crying, mixed in with mumblings of words. Worried, Rachel came closer, stopping when she saw a pile of clothes, Vanessa’s clothes, laying in a puddle of water in front of the sinks and Vanessa huddled naked against the wall, crying.
Vanessa made little effort to hide her body, as her hands were busy covering her face rather than anything else, leaving her small breasts exposed, as well as exposing her shaved pussy. As she got closer, Rachel noticed something leaking from Vanessa’s vagina, like she had been aroused earlier.
What happened here? Rachel thought.
She approached Vanessa, examining her to see if something was wrong. It didn’t look like someone was inside her, but Rachel had no idea what happened. Naturally she couldn’t ask Vanessa this, and even if she could Vanessa wouldn’t have any memory of what happened when she was possessed.
Rachel looked down at the clothes on the floor. They were wet, and wouldn’t look like they’d dry until after the test. I… I need to help her. Rachel went inside Vanessa. She gasped as she found herself in control of the other girl's body, and shivered from the coldness of the bathroom tile against her naked skin.
She couldn’t help but notice something else. This body felt good like it had just recently orgasmed. Rachel gulped, and stood up. She grabbed as many paper towels as she could and went to work trying to dry off Vanessa’s clothes. It wouldn’t get it all out, but that wasn’t the plan.
She slipped the clothes on, shivering intensely at how cold everything was before leaving the bathroom where one of the hall monitors noticed her and flagged her down.
“Young lady,” he began, “why on earth are you soaking wet?”
“There’s a problem with the sink,” Rachel lied, “it sprayed water all over me when I tried to wash my hands.”
The hall monitor sighed, “Well, I can’t let you return to your classroom like this, follow me, we’ll see if we can get you some dry clothes from the lost and found.”
Vanessa returned to class wearing an oversized hoodie along with a pair of sweatpants that were slightly too big for her. It didn’t help that they both smelled of sweat and body odor, but at least now Vanessa could finish her test. Feeling extra helpful, Rachel decided to fill in the answers for her that she took from Matthew, again, making sure she separated them from her own answers. Alright, I hope this goes well for her, Rachel thought as she got ready to leave her body poor girl.
With that, she returned to her own body and waited until the bell rang and class was let out to go to lunch. Is there someone else here with powers like mine? she wondered as she grabbed her belongings. Rachel glanced around the room, wondering if maybe whoever it was might’ve been in the room with her. No, she hadn’t noticed anyone else seemingly passed out like how she looks when she becomes a ghost. Someone from outside her classroom then, but staff or student? Boy or girl? As Rachel walked into the hallway and towards the cafeteria, she continued to glance around as more and more students came into the hall. Any one of them could have powers like hers.
Rachel thankfully managed to find Susan and Elizabeth during lunch. She was worried they would have different lunch schedules because of the test, but that wasn’t the case. Elizabeth and Susan were in the middle of talking about what they were going to do after the test. They almost didn’t notice Rachel sitting down next to them until she asked, “Hey, has anyone in your class acted… weird today?”
“Well hello to you, too, Rachel,” Susan replied, “anyway… no, not really. Why? Did something happen?”
Rachel lowered her voice, it wouldn’t be good if whoever was behind this overheard what she was going to tell them. No telling how this other person would react. “During the test… you know that quiet girl, Vanessa? I saw someone jump into her and, after some time had passed, I decided to follow using my powers…” she paused as she gathered herself to prepare to explain what happened next as she was still shaken by the sight of it, “when I found her in the bathroom, she was naked and all of her clothes had been soaked in the sink. When I hopped inside of her I also felt like… like she had just orgasmed.”
Susan and Elizabeth gasped and leaned back in their seats, their eyes wide with horror. “What did you do?” Elizabeth asked.
“I dried off her clothes the best I could,” Rachel explained, “afterwards, I picked up some clothes from the lost and found and finished her test for her.” After she finished, Rachel looked around the cafeteria, wondering if anyone had been listening in to their conversation. None of the students seemed to notice or care, being far more interested in their own meals or conversations. Still, Rachel felt her skin crawl at the thought that the person responsible was in this room with them.
“Should…” Susan hesitated, “should we do something about this?”
“What can we do?” Elizabeth asked, “I don’t think any member of the staff will believe us if we tell them what happened and I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do to this creep without putting ourselves in harm's way!”
“I might be able to do something.” Rachel said.
“Rachel, no-” Elizabeth began.
“I’m the only one with powers like this,” Rachel cut her off, “I’m the only one who would be able to see them, and I might be able to put a stop to all this.”
“Rachel,” Elizabeth said, “please be careful, alright? From what you said, I… don’t feel comfortable with you going to confront this guy alone.”
“Elizabeth is right,” Susan agreed, “what if he’s, I don’t know, able to turn the tables on you?”
Rachel swallowed, feeling sick, “I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
For the rest of the day, Rachel was on high alert, keeping a close eye on any of her classmates to see if they acted off. However, nothing happened. At least, not in her class anyway. After the tests were over and everyone got their phones back, Rachel was immediately hit with several messages from both Susan and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Rachel, we have a problem
He struck again.
Melissa, you know, the girl in the school band with the freckles?
She left for the restroom and didn’t come back
Going to check on her now
Susan: Rachel, problem.
several girls were straight up missing when we came back
The teacher didn’t know what happened to them
Some of their friends said the girls left during lunch and then they just didn’t come back
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Rachel took in a breath, and as calmly as she could, she looked around for anything suspicious. She almost missed it, but she saw one of the girls in the cheer leading team, a tall brunette named Victoria, suddenly gasp and shudder, stopping briefly mid walk and suddenly turning around with a slight smile on her face. Bingo.
Me:I found him. I’m going to follow him for a bit and see what happens
Elizabeth: Careful.
Susan: Stay safe
With that, Rachel put her phone away and followed Victoria, or rather the person possessing Victoria, through the hallways. She made sure to keep her distance, didn’t want whoever was inside Victoria getting suspicious about her, but she also made sure to keep Victoria in her line of sight so she wouldn’t get away.
At first, Rachel thought the possessor would take Victoria into another bathroom, but no, whoever it was was taking Victoria inside the girls locker room. No one else was inside when Victoria walked in, and Rachel was barely able to slip in herself without the door closing on her. From there, she decided to hide herself away near the entrance where, hopefully, her body wouldn’t be seen.
Alright, Rachel thought, her mouth a bit dry, I’m going in. She separated herself from her body and floated over in the direction of the lockers.
She wasn’t surprised when she saw Victoria’s body already in a state of undress. Whoever was inside her had already taken off Victoria’s shoes, socks, pants, and shirt, leaving her in just her white bra and panties. The imposter stood in front of the mirror inside Victoria’s locker, admiring Victoria’s body with a wicked grin on her face as her hands reached behind her back to unclip the bra, slipping it off her and allowing Victoria’s full breasts to come into view.
Rachel caught sight of herself in the locker mirror and froze, Oh god, does he see me? The imposter, however, didn’t look like he was able to see ghosts while he was possessing someone, much like how Rachel didn’t see him while she was inside Matthew’s body. While Rachel stood frozen, the imposter took the opportunity to slide off Victoria’s panties and was now standing completely naked in front of the mirror, admiring how Victoria looked. “Oh yeah,” she growled, “much better than that mousy little Vanessa, no idea what the other guys were seeing in her.”
Rachel continued floating over, moving agonizingly slow.
One of Victoria’s hands went to her breasts, cupping them and squeezing the nipples. “Mmm, bigger than Melissa’s,” she moaned, “but not as sensitive-OH!” Victoria arched her back as her fingers slipped inside her vagina, “Oh FUCK! Oh! I think she’s the most sensitive one so far!”
Rachel held out her hands as she got closer to Victoria. Unlike before, where she always felt a slight pull towards the body she was about to enter, here she felt a slight push and she had to force herself to get closer. Fortunately, the imposter didn’t seem to notice, lost as he was busy pleasuring himself in Victoria’s body. As he got closer to the climax, Rachel was able to make her way into Victoria’s body. Get out!
”What the? Who are you? You get out!”
Rachel jerked, causing Victoria’s leg to jerk. Her vision was darkness until she saw flashes of the locker room from Victoria’s perspective. She felt a hand closing in on her throat and wasn’t sure who was the one squeezing, if it was her or the other person. I said… GET OUT1
With a shove, Rachel pushed the other presence out of Victoria and gained control for a brief moment. She looked around and was about to leave when she felt the presence trying to come back in, Victoria’s body started shuddering and Rachel once again found herself fighting for control against this creep.
I won’t let you take advantage of anyone else! Rachel screamed, leaving Victoria’s body, but making sure she dragged the other presence out with her. Bodiless, as ghosts, they both floated in the locker room, and while they had each other’s hands around the other person’s throat, neither of them were able to feel pain, just mild discomfort.
But Rachel gasped when she saw who the other person was. It was Trevor, and he was glaring down at her, but the anger quickly melted into surprise and they both let go, floating a little bit away from each other. “Trevor?” Rachel gasped.
“Rachel?” Trevor gasped.
Rachel thought back to when she searched Trevor’s phone, some of those pictures of the girls were taken from their perspectives, at first, she had thought Trevor was flirting around with all those girls, but could he have actually been possessing them and used them to give himself those pictures?
“How… how long did you have this power?” Rachel asked.
“A month, just about,” Trevor replied, sneering, “I think you can see what I’ve been using it for. You?”
“A little over two weeks.”
Trevor thought for a moment, and his sneer deepened, “Ah, so I guess it was you I have to thank for waking up covered in my own mess that one time. Well, as you can see, you might’ve inspired me to do more with my powers than just simple pictures.”
“Why did you leave them stranded without clothes?”
Trevor shrugged, “I didn’t do that will all of them, just the ones who went out of their way to mock me, judge me, call me a creep! A pervert! Loser!”
Rachel scoffed, “I don’t think they were too far off with those claims seeing what you’ve done,”
“Really?” Trevor asked, coming closer, “You violated me, and then judge me when I do the same? Well, let’s see how you like it then! Your body must be around here, somewhere, right?”
Before she could react, Trevor shoved her aside and started floating off towards the exit of the locker room, right where her body was. Shit! Rachel thought, floating behind him. Trevor glanced behind him as he floated, “Heh, guess I’m getting close.”
Fuck! Rachel thought, I shouldn’t have followed! Now he knows where my body is! She tried going faster, using her ghostly arms and legs to try to propel herself forward, but it was no use, both her and Trevor were going the exact same speed, but Trevor was ahead of her. No.
Her body came into view, slumped over against the wall. Trevor chuckled as he got closer and slowly started to slip inside. NO! Rachel reached forward, forcing herself inside before Trevor could get in her body. She expected resistance, a fight, anything, but she gasped awake as she easily slipped inside her body.
What? Where’s-? Suddenly, she gasped, her body jerking on its own accord, she felt him then, trying to force his way inside of her. Rachel knew then that he wanted her to get inside first, so she’d be trapped while he possessed her. She needed to leave! Now!
“You’re not going anywhere.” Trevor whispered in her mind as Rachel felt the pulling turn into pushing as she forced inside her body as Trevor took control. She continued fighting, but she was quickly losing. She stopped feeling her legs, then her arms, until all she controlled was her eyes and then her vision slowly slipped away as she lost all control. no…
Trevor gasped awake, grinning as he looked down at his hands, Rachel’s hands. Okay Rachel, let’s see how you like being played with. He made his way over to the lockers again, having completely forgotten about Victoria until she finally regained consciousness and shrieked when she discovered she was naked.
“Rachel!” Victoria shrieked, grabbing Rachel’s shirt, “What happened? Why am I naked? Did you see whoever did this?”
Trevor smiled, and leaned closer, kissing Victoria on the lips, when he pulled back, Victoria was staring at him wide eyed, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just couldn’t resist, especially seeing you like this.”
Victoria pulled away, quickly grabbing her clothes and using them to cover herself, “Rachel, what the hell? This isn’t the time for anything like that!”
Trevor held up his hands, “Easy, easy, I was just suggesting we can take advantage of the moment, you know?”
Victoria’s face went red and she quickly ran out of the locker room. Damn, Trevor thought, watching her go, I was really looking forward to trying sex as a woman. Maybe I came off too strong. Oh well, at least I still have this body.
Trevor stood in front of the mirror of Victoria’s locker. Let’s see what we’re working with here. Trevor went to work, taking off Rachel’s boots first. He was surprised to see she wasn’t wearing any socks, but that was fine, less work for him. Afterwards, her shirt came off, Oh Rachel, naughty girl, underneath, a black bra held back her freckled breasts. I can’t wait to play with those Trevor thought, but first, her pants came off next, and Trevor eagerly ripped off the matching black panties. Oh my! Trevor laughed giddily as the underwear came off, I was not expecting this! Rachel’s pussy was completely shaved, giving him a nice clean view of her mound and puffy lips.
His hands went to his bra, he shook slightly from anticipation before taking it off. Rachel’s breasts weren’t as large as Victoria’s, but they were very soft and bouncy, and the freckles dusting across her skin drew his eyes to her breasts' natural roundness. He swallowed, breathing deeply as heat gathered between Rachel’s legs.
No sense putting all this off, then Without further ado, Trevor sat down and got to work fingering Rachel. Oh! Trevor bit his lip, Rachel’s back arching of its own accord as his fingers slipped inside her warmth, Shit! She’s sensitive! He licked his lips, moaning deeply as he fingered her. He found her clitoris easily and a few flicks nearly incapacitated him from the sheer pleasure.
He grunted, his free hand cupping her breasts and rubbing her erect nipples. Finally, it came. With a loud groan, Trevor felt Rachel’s body climax and laid dazed for a moment, unable to feel his legs. Fuck, Rachel. I think… out of all the bodies I’ve possessed, yours is my favorite. Trevor was about to get up and leave Rachel laying here in her shame when he heard a ding coming from her discarded pants.
It was Rachel’s phone.
Elizabeth: Rachel, you alright?
Did you find out who did it?
Trevor grinned, maybe he might be able to have sex with a woman after all. He just needed to play his cards better this time. Sorry, Rachel, looks like I’m staying in here for a little longer.
Me: Don’t worry, I’m fine.
Wanna meet up at my house?
I’ll tell you what I found out.
Elizabeth: Sure
I’ll bring Susan with me.
Oh, this was just getting better and better.
The End?
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The morning light was harsh through the blinds, slicing across the rumpled bed. Claire blinked, her head throbbing with a dull, medicinal ache. Something warm and soft was pressed against her. She looked down.
Amy was nestled in her arms, asleep, her blond hair fanned across the pillow. Except… Claire’s arms were thickly bandaged from wrist to elbow, and the body she held was decidedly male. The firm plane of a chest, the coarse hair on a forearm. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs.
“Amy?” she whispered, her voice a dry rasp. It came out wrong. Deeper. Rougher.
The body in her arms stirred. Blue eyes, so like Will’s, fluttered open. They widened in instant, sheer panic. “Frank? What the hell? Why are you… holding me?” The voice was high, melodic. Amy’s voice. But the tone was all Will—confused, irritable, direct.
Claire—in Frank’s body—pushed herself up on her elbows. Past the tangle of Amy’s blond hair, she saw the closet mirror. The reflection showed Frank’s familiar, lean frame, his own dark hair mussed from sleep, his bandaged arms wrapped around a petite, curvy Amy. But Amy’s face was contorted in a terror that wasn’t hers.
“Will?” Claire breathed, the name feeling foreign in this new throat. “Is that you in there?”
The person in Amy’s body scrambled back, the sheets pooling around a waist that was suddenly, distressingly narrow. “Claire? What did you call me?” He—Will—looked down at himself, at the pronounced swell of his sister’s breasts beneath the thin cotton sleep shirt, and his hands flew to his throat. “That’s my… this is Amy’s voice. What is this?”
“I think… I think I’m you,” Claire said, the reality of it dawning with a sick, dizzying weight. She swung Frank’s legs—her legs—out of bed. The movement was all wrong, the center of gravity shifted, a heavy, unfamiliar weight swinging between her thighs. She ignored it, for now. “The accident. The goodbye. Don’t you remember?”
Will—in Amy—stood up shakily. He looked down at his new body, his hands hovering over the generous curves. “I remember you… you and me, in the car. Crushed. Then nothing. Then waking up here, smothered by my little brother.” He shuddered, a full-body tremor that made the new flesh quiver. “This isn’t right. This is Amy.”
“And this is Frank,” Claire said, staring at Frank’s hands—her hands—as she flexed them. “We’re in our siblings. Our spouses’ siblings.” The sheer, grotesque improbability of it threatened to swallow her. But the throbbing in her bandaged arms was real. The discharge papers on the nightstand were real.
They found them, the crisp hospital printout. Franklin Miller, contusions, lacerations. Amy Miller, contusions, mild concussion. The names were wrong, but the injuries mapped. They had been patched up and sent home, two souls crammed into the wrong, aching containers.
Wordlessly, they moved to the kitchen, the beach house silent except for the distant crash of Pacific waves. The medical instructions said to clean and re-dress the wounds. They worked in a stunned quiet, Claire clumsily winding fresh gauze around Will-Amy’s slender forearm, Will using Amy’s delicate fingers to secure the wrap on Claire-Frank’s broader bicep with a efficiency that was utterly his own.
“We need to shower,” Will said finally, his voice tight. “We’re covered in road grit and… and whatever else.”
Claire nodded. It was practical. A step. They stood in the master bathroom, a spacious tiled room with a large glass-walled shower. The silence grew thick.
“Just… get it over with,” Will muttered, not looking at her. He—in Amy’s body—peeled the sleep shirt over his head, revealing Amy’s full, pale breasts. He froze, his breath catching, his face a mask of profound disorientation. Claire watched, a strange, detached part of her noting how Will’s shock did nothing to diminish the natural, ripe beauty of the form he now wore.
Swallowing hard, Claire turned her attention to Frank’s clothes. The jeans were awkward, the button fly an unfamiliar puzzle for her fingers. She got them open, pushed them down Frank’s hips. The boxer briefs followed. And there it was.
Frank’s penis, soft and nestled in a thatch of dark hair. It was… there. A presence. A weight. She stared at it, this alien appendage that was now, technically, hers. The core of her being, Claire, recoiled. But the body she inhabited didn’t. There was a low, curious hum of sensation, a connection to the thing that was both deeply wrong and undeniably physical.
Will had stripped completely now, standing naked by the sink. He was staring into the mirror, at Amy’s face, with a kind of horrified fascination. His hands skimmed over the dramatic hourglass curve of the hips, the soft swell of the stomach. “God,” he whispered.
“Don’t,” Claire said, her new voice gruff. “Just… don’t think. Clean. That’s all.”
They stepped into the shower together, a bizarre and intimate pantomime of their old married life. The water was hot, a welcome shock. Claire let it sluice over Frank’s broad shoulders, watching as Will soaped Amy’s body with a clinical, hurried desperation. The suds slid over smooth skin, over curves that Will had only ever seen on his sister from a detached, brotherly distance. Now he was mapping them with his own, stolen hands.
Claire’s own washing was more hesitant. The soap slid over Frank’s chest, flat and hard. Down the taut stomach. Her hand, wrapped in plastic to protect the bandages, hesitated again at the groin. She had to clean it. It was just a body part. A piece of biology.
She touched it. Frank’s flaccid penis was soft, vulnerable in her grip. She washed it quickly, the soap slick, her mind screaming the wrongness of it. But as her fingers moved, a jolt went through her—through Frank’s body. A thick, gathering tension. A flood of warmth that had nothing to do with the shower. She gasped, and the thing in her hand began to change, to swell and stiffen, lengthening and thickening in a way that was utterly, overwhelmingly male.
In the mirror of her mind, she was still Claire. But the sensation… the sensation was a deep, insistent pulse, a claiming of blood and flesh that centered entirely on that stretching, hardening shaft. It felt powerful. It felt hungry.
She looked up, water streaming down Frank’s face, and met Will’s eyes. He had seen. He was staring, not at her face, but lower, at the clear, hard evidence of the body’s response. In his own new body, Amy’s body, a sympathetic flush spread across the chest and throat.
“It’s… it’s just the heat,” Claire stammered, the excuse weak even to her own ears.
Will didn’t answer. He was looking down now, at Amy’s body. At the space between her legs. His expression was one of dawning, awful comprehension. “It would… it would stretch,” he said, his voice hollow. “Wouldn’t it? If we… that would stretch this.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. The image was there, brutal and visceral: the thick, hard length of Frank, of the penis Claire now felt twitching in her hand, pushing into the tight, small space that was now his.
The thought should have revolted him. It should have revolted her. But standing there in the steam, with the water beating down on their stolen, aching forms, it didn’t. It hummed between them, a forbidden current. A terrible, logical next step. The body Claire was in throbbed with a need that was entirely about filling a space, about the profound, physical truth of fit and stretch. And the body Will was in, for all his mental horror, seemed to soften in response, a faint, unfamiliar ache blooming low in Amy’s belly.
They finished rinsing in silence, the air crackling with things unsaid. They toweled off, avoiding each other’s eyes, avoiding looking too long at the reflections in the fogged-up glass. They were two people, stranded in the wrong skins, with the ghosts of their spouses between them and a terrifying, tantalizing new physics of flesh beckoning from the shadows of their own home.
A reimagining of 'Palette Swap' by Team Lady Valiant & FarhadTG
The final kick landed with a sickening crack. My heel connected squarely with Vega's porcelain mask, shattering it—and the bone beneath—with a sound like splintering china. He went down hard, clutching his ruined face, blood seeping between his perfect fingers. For a moment, there was only his ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.
Then he started to laugh.
"Beautiful... so beautiful..." he gurgled through the wreckage of his jaw, his once-perfect features now a jigsaw puzzle of gore and ceramic shards. His free hand fumbled at his belt, producing a small device I recognized from Bison's labs. "But beauty... can be transferred."
"No—!" I lunged forward, but too late. He pressed the trigger.
The world exploded in white light and static. I felt myself falling, spinning, my consciousness ripping away from my body like silk tearing. When I could see again, I was looking up at the ceiling from the floor, my perspective completely wrong. Vega's hands—my hands now—rose into view. Long-fingered and pale. I touched my face and felt bandages, surgical tape, the swollen flesh beneath.
Across from me, Vega—now wearing my body—stood staring down at itself with wide, hungry eyes. He immediately grabbed the neckline of my qipao top and tore it open, exposing the breasts I'd known my whole life as if seeing them for the first time. "Exquisite," he breathed in my voice, a sound so wrong it made my stomach turn. He cupped them, his fingers—my fingers once—squeezing the weight of them with obscene fascination.
"Three days later."
The words felt surreal to even think. Three days of surgery, of recovery, of Vega preening and parading in my skin while I lay in his bed, trapped in his broken body. I shifted against silk sheets that smelled of roses and blood, trying to find a position that didn't send agony lancing through Vega's four fractured ribs—my fractured ribs now.
The bedroom door opened. Vega entered—not the Vega I'd fought, but the Vega who now wore my face and form. He'd styled my hair into his signature braid, the dark ropes hanging over one shoulder. My breasts—his breasts now—were completely exposed, moving with a bounce and weight I intimately understood but had never witnessed from this angle. His nipples, my nipples once, were hard on my former breasts and already healed into them was a matching version of Vega's serpent tattoo, coiling around his left breast.
He wore the ceremonial trousers of a matador in murrey and yellow, so tight they might have been painted on. Every curve of what had been my hips, my ass, my thighs—his now—was outlined in devastating detail. The white leggings hugged his calves, the red sash cinched his waist, and the loafers clicked softly on the marble floor. There was no shirt, no vest, no modesty whatsoever.
"How are we feeling today, my beautiful monster?" he purred in my voice, running his hands down his bare torso, fingers tracing the new tattoo. "I've been breaking in your body. The flexibility is... inspiring."
I pushed myself up on Vega's arms—my arms now—so much stronger than my own had been, but currently useless thanks to the ribs. I wore the masculine version of my Street Fighter Alpha outfit: an embroidered vest that strained across his broad shoulders, a navy unitard that did nothing to hide the evidence of my new anatomy, athletic shoes, and studded wristbands. My face was still wrapped in bandages, Napoleon's guise hiding the damage I'd inflicted.
"You're a psychopath," I rasped, his voice grating in my throat.
"I'm an artist," he corrected, striking a pose that made his—my breasts once—lift and press together. "And I've finally achieved my masterpiece. The face I was always meant to have, the body I've coveted for years. But..." He frowned, touching his bandaged visage on my body. "I still need to fix this. Your brutality marred perfection."
Despite everything, despite the pain and violation, I felt a strange heat pooling in my new groin as I watched him touch what had been my face. My old body was undeniably beautiful, even under his control. And his body... I flexed Vega's powerful thighs—my thighs now—felt the weight of different muscles, the tightness of the unitard against an erection I hadn't asked for.
His eyes—my eyes once—caught the movement. "Ah, I see my husband is adjusting. Good." He began to pace, each step deliberate, making my former hips sway. "I've been thinking, my love. About our arrangement. You gave me this gift, this perfect vessel. And I realized something." He stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on what had been my hips. "I'm in love. With you. With the fighter who broke me, who made this possible."
My breath caught. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." He smiled with my lips, then reached down and began to touch himself through the impossibly tight matador trousers. "But watch how your former body responds to the truth." One hand squeezed his breast—the weight of it filling his palm perfectly—while the other rubbed slow circles between his legs. "I've been touching myself constantly, wife. Learning every secret you kept hidden. Did you know you could get this wet?"
He turned, presenting the profile of my former body, and I watched in horrified fascination as his fingers worked faster. The trousers were so tight I could see the outline of his hand, the way the fabric pulled and strained. He was getting wet—I could smell it, that familiar scent from a foreign source, and the dark patch spreading across the murrey fabric.
"Vega, stop—" I protested, but my new voice was weak.
"Why? This is as much yours as mine now." He approached the bed, leaning over my new crotch, my former breasts—his breasts now—swaying. "Let me show you what I've learned as your wife."
His hands moved to my unitard, and before I could protest, he tore the reinforced fabric between my legs with shocking ease. Vega's cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I gasped at the sensation—so different, so urgent.
"Beautiful," he whispered, taking it in my former hands. "Just like the rest of your husband."
Then he leaned forward and pressed my erection between his breasts—the breasts I'd once soaped in the shower, the breasts that had fit into specific sports bras, the breasts that were now his to wield as mother to my fatherhood. The sensation was overwhelming. He squeezed them together, creating a channel of soft, yielding flesh, and began to move.
"Watch," he commanded in my voice, looking down at me with my own dark eyes—his eyes now. "Watch what you made of your wife."
He worked faster, the gold rings in his nipples glinting, his braid swinging with each motion. The pleasure built in this unfamiliar body, coiling tighter and tighter. When he lowered his mouth to the tip and took me—Vega—between my own lips—his lips now—I couldn't hold back.
The orgasm ripped through me, a different kind of explosion than any kick or punch. He swallowed, his throat working in a way I'd never felt, then released me with a satisfied smile. Vega's cock—my cock now—still twitched, half-hard and sensitive.
"There," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of my former hand. "Now we understand each other, husband."
I was panting, each breath sending pain through Vega's ribs—my ribs now. "More," I managed, hips still twitching with aftershocks. "I want..."
"Shhh." He leaned close, my former breasts—his breasts now—pressing against the vest covering his old chest. "Your body is still healing. I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery on your face, you know. These ribs need time." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot against skin that was his but now mine: "We have all the time in the world, my love. When you're whole again, your wife will take you so much further."
He kissed the bandages covering Vega's ruined features—my ruined features now—then rose from the bed, adjusting his trousers with a satisfied smile. My body left the room with his swagger, the door clicking shut behind him.
I collapsed back against the pillows, remembering as Vega removed his breasts from my half-hard penis, the wetness left behind cooling in the air. My mind reeled with the obscene intimacy of what we'd just done. Three days in, and I was already lost, already thinking of this monster in my skin as "my wife." How many more until I didn't want to find my way back?
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
With the sorority girls having already taken well known countermeasures to deal with any would be panty thieves, he thinks the chances of completing the challenge are near zero.
However, when his best friend Jack claims to have a plan involving a little magic and burrowing the bodies of his crush Vanessa and her roommate Katy, he knows he is in for a long night ahead when things don't exactly end up going to plan...
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The floor of Delta Epsilon’s house was sticky.
Beer, cheap cologne, and stale pizza had seeped into the carpet like a second skin, and Philip had the honor of scrubbing it clean while half a dozen brothers lounged on couches watching basketball highlights.
“Missed a spot,” one of them called, deliberately tilting a red Solo cup so that the last of his drink bled out onto the carpet inches from Philip’s sponge.
Philip clenched his jaw. He’d been degraded all semester, fetching fast food at three in the morning, running errands that skirted the edge of being criminal, serving as human furniture during drinking games. He told himself it would be worth it. Delta Epsilon’s parties were legendary, the kind of place girls lined up to get into. More importantly, alumni connections meant a shot at internships that led to real careers. You suffered now, you cashed in later.
Jack, naturally, thrived. He was perched on the arm of a sofa, balancing a tray of wings for two seniors, grinning like the humiliation was a party of its own.
“How’s that knee grease holding up, Phil?” he teased, eyebrows bouncing. Philip muttered something under his breath, pressing the sponge hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He’d thought pledging with his best friend would make things easier. Instead, Jack’s bottomless energy only made Philip feel like the boring one, always one step away from quitting.
The pledge master, Trent, finally called them over once the brothers had eaten their fill.
“You’ve made it further than many,” he said, addressing both Philip and Jack while tapping the ash off his cigar. “Scrubbing toilets, babysitting drunk brothers, taking whatever punishment we throw at you, you did it all without complaint. But Delta doesn’t hand out membership for free. There’s one last hurdle.”
Jack’s eyes lit up, while Philip felt his stomach knot. Trent leaned forward. “You’ve got until Saturday morning to bring us proof that you’re worthy of being Delta Epsilons. And by proof, I mean the underwear of one of the Theta sisters across the street.”
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Someone whistled. Another shouted, “Better hope they’re lace!”
Philip’s face burned hot. He’d expected something brutal. A dangerous stunt, or maybe even a tattoo or branding, not…this. Not something that felt like the set-up to a police record for being a creep.
Jack, of course, grinned like he’d just been handed a golden ticket. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Piece of felony,” Philip muttered.
Trent ignored the comment. “You get caught, that’s your problem. Theta girls are sick of pranks. They’ll eat you alive if they catch you sneaking around. Fail, and you’ll have to re-pledge next semester, if we even let you back in. Succeed, and you’ll be full brothers by sunrise.”
He flicked his cigar ash into an empty beer can, and the matter was closed. Philip and Jack were dismissed like servants, slipping out into the cool night air. The frat house behind them thumped with bass as the next round of drinking games began.
Across the street, the Theta house glowed with warm yellow light, its windows alive with the silhouettes of girls laughing, moving and living in a world that felt forbidden.
Philip shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “This is insane. They want us to break into a sorority house. Forget expulsion, that’s actual jail time if we’re caught and reported.”
Jack slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Come on, man. It’s tradition. Everybody who ever wore Delta letters has done something crazy like this. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Philip shrugged him off. “You mean you’ll figure it out. And drag me with you.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Exactly. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” That phrase, I’ve got a plan, was the single most dangerous thing Jack could say. Philip knew better, but as he stared up at the Theta house, he couldn’t shake the truth. They’d come too far to back out now.
Philip assumed Jack’s “plan” would be something stupid but doable. Like sneaking into the Theta laundry room, bribing a janitor, or maybe finessing a stolen bra from lost-and-found.
What he didn’t expect, as their deadline creeped ever closer, was Jack pulling a battered paperback out of his backpack like he’d just smuggled the Necronomicon out of the library and declaring their troubles were about to be a thing of the past.
“What is that?” Philip asked, eyeing the faded title embossed with moons and symbols.
“Wiccan Rites and Rituals of the Body,” Jack said with a grin so wide it could split his face. “This baby is going to get us in.”
Philip stared. “That’s not a plan you idiot. That’s…props from a bad horror movie.”
“Correction,” Jack said, flipping through pages until he landed on one marked with a sticky note. “It’s a possession spell. All we need is something personal from the Thetas. Hair is perfect. One strand, and we’re golden.”
Philip blinked. “Hair. You want us to pluck a strand off someone’s head, mix it into some potion, and what? Astral-project into their underwear drawer?”
Jack leaned forward, whispering even though there was nobody else around. “Exactly. But into them, not their underwear drawer.”
For a moment, Philip couldn’t even find words. His friend was dead serious. His blue eyes glittered with the manic light of a man who believed in his own insanity. Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jack, you need help.”
“Correction again. We need help, and this is it. Think about it. We don’t sneak around, we don’t break and enter, we just become them. Walk right in the front door. Grab what we need and walk back out again. Easy as pie.”
Philip wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Jack this was why pledges got expelled, why college urban legends started with two idiots reading a so-called spell book. But something about Jack’s certainty unsettled him.
“How do you even plan to get the hair?” Philip asked, deciding to humor him.
Jack smirked. “You’re partnered with Vanessa in chem lab. I’m with her roommate, Katy. Both of them happen to belong to the Theta Sorority. Boom. Easy.”
Philip’s stomach lurched. Vanessa, the Vanessa, the girl he’d spent the better part of a semester trying not to stare at. She was sharp, funny, gorgeous, and so out of his league it hurt. The idea of stealing a strand of her hair wasn’t just impossible, it was mortifying.
“Jack, if I even look at her hair the wrong way she’ll know. She’ll tell everyone. I’ll be branded as the campus creep for the rest of my life.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Relax. I’ll take care of mine. You just…fumble your way through like usual. She likes you, right? I’m sure she’s called you sweet before. She won’t even notice.”
Lab that afternoon was a fluorescent blur of glassware and nerves. Bunsen burners hissed, and the sharp scent of acetone hung in the air. Vanessa tied her glossy black hair into a messy bun as she leaned over the counter, the soft hum she made under her breath cutting through the low chatter of other pairs.
Philip adjusted the clamp on their stand and tried to steady his hands, pretending to check the thermometer while sneaking a glance at her profile. The long lashes, the soft curve of her cheek when she smiled. He’d barely worked up the nerve to say something to her, when the door swung open and Ryan Hale strolled in.
Ryan wasn’t a student in their class, he was a teaching assistant who was busy with his Masters. The kind of nerd who looked more like he belonged in a movie poster than a chemistry lab. The Henry Cavill of the campus. Tall, effortlessly confident, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing forearms that probably did not belong to someone who spent his evenings doing titration reports.
“Need a hand, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth enough to make the words sound like an inside joke.
Vanessa’s whole face lit up. “Ryan! You’re still hanging around the underclassmen? I thought you were too cool for basic chem.”
“Guess I missed the fun crowd.” He winked, stepping close enough that Philip caught the faint smell of his cologne. Something woodsy and smug. Philip’s stomach twisted. He busied himself pretending to check their notes, but every word between Vanessa and Ryan pulled his focus like a hook through his ribs.
“Still showing off that perfect technique, huh?” Ryan teased, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Could use someone like you to calibrate my disastrous love life.”
Vanessa laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I told you last time, you need better lab partners, not better lines.”
“Maybe I just need one who actually likes me,” he said, voice dipping into something low and knowing. “You still wearing that purple dress that makes everyone else forget the experiment?”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Keep talking, and you’ll set the sprinklers off again.”
Ryan chuckled, backing away with a little salute. “Worth it.”
Philip’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He shifted his beaker just to make noise. “Vanessa, uh, the solution’s ready,” he muttered.
She turned back, still smiling, a faint pink on her cheeks. “Right, sorry, I got distracted.” The way she said it made Philip want to vanish into the nearest fume hood.
Ryan gave him a nod that felt more like dismissal. “Good work, man. Don’t let her boss you around too much.”
Philip forced a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Ryan finally moved on to check another table, the tension in Philip’s shoulders eased only slightly. Vanessa was still smiling to herself, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “He’s such a dork,” she said fondly.
“Yeah,” Philip replied, voice flat. “A real geek.”
She glanced at him, oblivious. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Fine,” he lied. His pulse thundered. He hated how obvious it felt. The jealousy, the ridiculous possessiveness over a girl who barely saw him as more than a partner for lab reports.
Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was all charm. Katy, tall, athletic, focused on the work at hand with cool intensity, rolled her eyes at his constant jokes, but she didn’t seem to actively hate him. Jack’s hands moved casually, as if the experiment was background noise to whatever ridiculous story he was spinning.
Philip’s heart pounded. He couldn’t do it. Not to Vanessa. The thought of deliberately stealing a piece of her felt worse than any frat punishment. But then her bun slipped, and a single strand drifted onto the lab bench.
Philip froze and stared at it like it was radioactive. One perfect strand, right there. All he had to do was pick it up without her noticing. His hand twitched. Sweat beaded at his hairline. Vanessa reached for the pipette, and he panicked. He grabbed the strand too quickly, shoving it into his pocket like a thief.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “You good?” she asked.
Philip’s laugh came out strangled. “Yeah. Totally. Fine. Just, science, you know?”
She gave him a strange look, then turned back to the experiment. Across the room, Jack caught his eye and subtly flashed a triumphant thumbs-up. He mouthed, Got it. Philip wanted to throw up.
After class, they met outside, ducking into a quiet corner near the library. Jack pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and wiggled it proudly. Katy’s strand of hair gleaming inside. Philip shoved his hands deep into his hoodie, where Vanessa’s strand burned against his palm like contraband.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “If she’d caught me, I’d have been ruined.”
Jack was practically buzzing. “But she didn’t. We’ve got everything. Today, we drink the potion. Tomorrow, we’re legends.”
Philip stared at him, feeling his chest tighten. It wasn’t the frat house that scared him anymore. It was Jack’s unwavering certainty, the gleam in his eye like he’d already crossed a line Philip couldn’t even see.
Back in their room, Jack had cleared his desk, pushing aside textbooks and laundry to make space for the battered paperback and a mess of supplies that looked like they’d been stolen from a Spirit Halloween clearance bin. Mason jars, candles, a bag of salt and something that Philip really, really hoped was red food coloring.
Philip sat on the bed, arms crossed, trying not to look at the plastic bag in his pocket. Inside was Vanessa’s hair, a single dark strand that felt heavier than lead.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm, and we’ll get kicked out before we even fail the pledge.”
Jack was hunched over the desk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he measured powder into a chipped coffee mug.
“Correction. You’re going to stop being so negative, because we’re going to waltz into Theta’s house like we own it and take our time finding the perfect proof. Something small, sexy and lacy. Then we hand it to Trent and we’re done. Easiest initiation ever and we’re lifelong members of the Delta Epsilon brotherhood.”
Philip shook his head. “You actually believe all the crap coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Because I know this is going to work.” Jack’s grin was feral. He held up his mug, fizzing with something dark and faintly purple. “And very soon, you’re going to have to swallow all your pessimistic, dismissive words and admit that I’m the GOAT.” Without waiting for a response, he dropped Katy’s wavy strand of hair into the concoction.
Philip looked at his own brew, waiting for him on the desk. It reeked faintly of vinegar and something metallic. “This looks like cough syrup that went bad.”
Jack grabbed the paperback, muttering words under his breath. Latin? Gibberish? Philip couldn’t tell. The candlelight threw shadows across Jack’s face, making him look more unhinged than usual.
“Jack,” Philip said slowly, “You get that if this doesn’t work, we may be drinking poison?”
“Trust me,” Jack said, gesturing meaningfully at Philip’s mug. Those two words had been the prelude to every disaster Philip had lived through with him. The broken window in high school. The near arrest in freshman year. And now this.
Philip sighed, pulled Vanessa’s hair from his pocket, and dropped it into the liquid. It curled and fizzed, dissolving into the mixture like it had never been.
“Bottoms up,” Jack said cheerfully, chugging the contents in one long pull.
Philip raised his mug. The liquid shimmered oddly, like heat ripples above asphalt. He pinched his nose and tossed it back. It burned. Like swallowing melted pennies chased with bleach. His stomach roiled instantly, bile rising up.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked, slamming the cup down. “That’s not magic, that’s battery acid.”
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing hard, but his grin didn’t falter. “Wait for it.”
Philip blinked and the dorm room folded in on itself. Candlelight bent sideways and the next breath tasted like coffee and paper. He was not in their room anymore. He was sitting at a table under tall windows, late afternoon light spilling amber over open textbooks and half empty cups.
The scent was library quiet and caffeine. Hair slid across his cheek. Definitely not his. It was long and silky. His hands were smaller, nails pink, wrists delicate. The weight on his chest tugged when he breathed. He was looking through Vanessa’s eyes.
Across from him, Katy sat in a chair with a pen in her hand and her mouth parted in a quiet, startled sound that belonged to Jack. “Holy shit,” Jack whispered in Katy’s voice.
Philip’s pulse spiked. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked under his breath, before the realization hit him fully. Jack’s crazy plan worked. He glanced down, eyes bugging at the soft cleavage he encountered. He was on the verge of completely freaking out. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. The sound of Vanessa's voice only sent him spiraling further into chaos.
Jack’s grin curled slow and wicked as he looked down at himself and then around them. He started to pull the top of Katy’s tank forward so he could peek at her breasts, before Philip shot him a look that could choke a man at twenty paces.
“Don’t,” Philip hissed. “Katy would never do something like that in public!”
Jack laughed, high and breathy in Katy’s voice. “You’re telling me you’re not even curious? Come on, man. We’re in. This is unreal. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to them when we touch them?”
Philip swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from spiraling into sensory overload.
“This…this isn’t possible,” he whispered. But the evidence pressed in from every side. The scent of citrus shampoo in his hair, the tug of bra straps against his shoulders, the fullness in his chest when he inhaled. The emptiness where his cock should be.
Philip’s eyes darted anxiously around the library cafe. “We need to get out of here before someone notices something off,” Philip said. “People pick up on the smallest wrong note.” He was terrified that someone would realize the girls were possessed.
He spent way too much time staring at Vanessa, but that didn’t mean he could copy her actions. If anyone watched them closely, they’d know immediately that there were impostors inhabiting Vanessa and Katy.
“We should go back to their room and fool around,” Jack suggested immediately, hands on Katy’s breasts, squeezing idly.
“Jesus, Jack, stop that! They’re in public. We’re in public…”
This was such a mind-fuck. Clearly they were literally possessing Vanessa and Katy’s bodies. Where was Vanessa's consciousness now? Asleep? Aware? He didn’t feel like someone was watching him, so hopefully she had no idea what he was doing. And where were his and Jack’s bodies? Still in their dorm room? Fuck. If he’d known there was any chance of this working, he’d never have gone through with it.
“Come on bestie, let’s go home,” Jack cooed at him. “I’m just dying to get out of these pesky clothes.”
Jack clearly had zero second thoughts about any of this. Then again, Jack had never had a second thought in his life. He rarely had first ones. Philip decided that only made him a bigger idiot for always following his friend’s crazy plans.
Philip took a deep breath, gathered Vanessa’s things and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder before getting up on shaky legs. The plan was to reach Theta house without interacting with anyone who knew the girls.
Vanessa was outgoing and popular, so he kept his eyes trained on the ground to avoid any accidental socializing.
He was doing his best to focus on the mission, but every move betrayed him. Vanessa’s curves shifted differently from his own. Her hips swayed without permission when he walked. The tug of the denim skirt around her thighs was tighter than he was used to, the waistband sitting higher, the soft curtain of hair continuously falling into his eyes. And he kept fighting the urge to run his fingertips over her lustrous, satiny skin.
Philip thanked his lucky stars that it was late afternoon sliding toward evening and most of the Theta girls were either at dinner, in class, or busy with the mixer prep.
The second piece of good luck was the fact that the first year members of the sorority had the downstairs bedrooms and Katy and Vanessa had their names picked out in glittery wooden letters on their door. Which saved him and Jack from being caught wandering aimlessly into someone else’s room and rifling through their underwear.
“Come on,” he hissed at Jack, nearly having heart failure when he heard Vanessa’s sweet, bubbly voice, before remembering it came from his own mouth.
As soon as they entered the room, Philip froze like a deer in headlights.
The room smelled like them. A heady mix of perfume, make-up and detergent. Several photos of Vanessa and Katy were pinned to the notice board. Keys with a little Theta charm lay on a desk. Lip gloss on each bedside table. A folded flyer about the upcoming mixer. Every object made him feel like an intruder in a life that wasn’t his.
Then he looked up and saw his reflection thrown back at him from the floor length mirror fastened to the opposite wall. Vanessa stared back. Her round face framed by shiny black hair, lips glossed in pale pink, eyes wide with Philip’s panic.
“This isn’t possible,” he murmured hoarsely.
Jack crossed the room with Katy’s energetic stride, hair swinging over her shoulder. He leaned down, far too close, eyes alight with mischief.
“Possible or not, it’s happening. And we’ve got hours before it wears off. Wanna play?” Philip’s pulse thundered. He was in Vanessa’s body. Jack was in Katy’s. He had no idea what their real bodies were doing or where, only that they were not here. For the first time since pledging Delta, he realized he was more terrified of his best friend than of any frat brother.
Jack was practically bouncing around like a kid in a candy store, repeatedly mentioning how awesome it is to have tits.
“This is insane,” Philip muttered, running a hand through Vanessa’s long hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, brushing the back of his neck, constantly in his peripheral vision. Every little tickle made him twitch. “I feel like I’m drowning in shampoo.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. It’s fucking awesome. Look at this.” He shook his head, letting Katy’s long, dark hair fall over her shoulders, framing her face, then bit her lower lip between her teeth and winked at Philip seductively. “Tell me this doesn’t look hot.”
Philip turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of the curve of Katy’s collarbone, the tan line along her shoulder where a sports bra must’ve once sat. He gritted his teeth.
“We’re only here to grab underwear and then we get out. That’s it.” Jack made a distracted sound, which didn’t entirely sound like agreement.
He was testing everything. Squeezing Katy’s biceps and delighting in the subtle muscle definition, stretching out one long leg and flexing her calf muscles, even bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if testing how springy she was.
Philip was still focused on the reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, and the image followed, familiar and foreign all at once. He raised a hand. She raised a hand. Jack appeared beside him, sliding Katy’s body into view. She was taller, leaner, her shoulders broader than Vanessa’s.
Katy was studious and fairly quiet normally, but Jack’s grin warped her into something hungry. A femme fatale in search of her next prey.
“Dude, look at us,” Jack whispered. “We actually pulled it off. We’re fucking hot!”
Philip swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. “We shouldn’t be looking. This is… it’s too much.”
“Too much fun,” Jack corrected. He pressed closer to the mirror, tilting Katy’s head, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue just to see how it looked. He laughed in delight. “God, the way this mouth moves, it’s unreal.”
Philip tried to drag his eyes away, but curiosity betrayed him. His gaze dipped, catching sight of Vanessa’s chest in the reflection. The neckline of her shirt clung close, clearly showing the outline of her nipples. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away sharply. He was not going to lift her top and take a peek.
“You’re staring,” Jack teased, slipping behind him and resting Katy’s hands on Vanessa’s hips.
Katy’s reflection loomed over Vanessa’s smaller frame in the mirror. “What’s it like, having the body of your crush? Bet you’ve fantasized about having unfettered access to her before. Touching every inch of her. Running your palms over her perky tits. Cupping her pussy.”
Philip’s face went hot. “Shut up.”
Jack leaned closer, his voice dropping, Katy’s lips brushing dangerously near Philip’s ear. “She’s soft, isn’t she? Curvy. Everything you imagined. And she’s right here. Aching to know what your hands would feel like sliding all over her.”
Philip’s breath caught. He could feel the warmth of Jack’s presence, the whisper of Katy’s hair brushing his cheek. He tried to step away, but Vanessa’s body didn’t obey with the same steadiness as his own.
His hip bumped the desk, throwing him off balance. Jack’s hand shot out, steadying him. Grabbing his hips instead of his arm. Philip stiffened. The pressure of Katy’s palm against Vanessa’s midriff was startling. A hot reminder that this wasn’t a joke anymore.
“Jack,” Philip said, voice low with warning. But Jack only grinned, tightening his grip slightly, fingertips sliding along the hem of Vanessa’s shirt, tickling the strip of skin underneath.
“Relax. We’ve got time before the potion wears off. Why waste it panicking when we could explore?”
Philip shoved his hand away, heart hammering too fast. “We came here for one reason. Don’t fuck this up with your usual bullshit.”
Jack backed off in mock surrender, leaning against the wall and raising Katy’s hands. “Fine, fine. You want to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity by being a pussy, instead of playing with one, go ahead.”
Philip ignored him and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, coming face to face with the mother lode.
A mass of lace and cotton, bright colors and neutrals, G-strings and briefs and bras, all folded neatly in little piles. He fumbled, pulling out a pair at random, trying not to notice the little bow stitched along the waistband, or theorize about which of the girls it belonged to.
“Got it,” he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket.
“We should leave and go and stash this somewhere so we can retrieve it when we’re us again.”
“Plenty of time for that. Are you seriously passing up the opportunity to find out what turns your crush on?”
Philip’s chest heaved, the bra beneath his shirt pinching tighter with the movement. Every tiny sensation was amplified in this shape. He had no idea girls had such sensitive bodies. If Vanessa's neck and shoulders were this responsive to stimuli, what about the more… delicate areas?
Jack leaned against the wall, watching his friend closely. Katy’s arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Philip avert his eyes.
“You really think you can ignore this?” Jack asked softly. “Ignore her?”
Philip didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, even as he tried to ignore it, every nerve in Vanessa’s body was alive with a tingling feeling he couldn’t shut off.
He told himself he wouldn’t look at the mirror again. That he had the underwear and all that was left to do was wait for the potion to burn off. But every time he moved, Vanessa’s body reminded him he wasn’t himself. The way her thighs brushed together when he shifted his stance. The heat trapped in the curve between her breasts. The way her nipples tightened when she saw the way Katy stared at her. The sudden, sharp contraction of pleasure between her legs.
Each detail was louder than thought. And Jack wouldn’t fucking give him space to breathe.
“You’re wound too tight,” Jack murmured, stepping closer again. Katy’s taller body loomed behind him, all lean lines and toned strength. He set Katy’s hands on Vanessa's shoulders from behind, massaging with deliberate slowness.
“Loosen up.”
Philip froze. The sensation was alien. Slender fingers pressing into the slope of Vanessa’s shoulders, kneading muscle softer than his own. His back arched without meaning to, chest pushing forward. He could feel the heat in his panties and almost smell the pheromones in the air.
“Jack-”
“Shh.”
Katy’s breath ghosted over his ear, warm and taunting. “Allow her to feel it. Her body isn’t fighting me. She likes this.”
Philip hated the way heat rippled through him at the words. The way Vanessa’s nipples pebbled instantly, turning aching and hard beneath her bra when Jack’s thumbs kept sensually running across her muscles.
He tried to step away, but Jack’s grip on her waist drew her back. Katy’s chest pressed flush against Vanessa’s back. Firm breasts molding against soft skin. Philip gasped, a small, betraying sound.
“That’s it,” Jack whispered, lips brushing the shell of Vanessa's ear. “You feel that, don’t you? How different it is?”
Philip bit his lip hard. But it didn’t stop his body from reacting. His chest ached with sensitivity, every brush of fabric against his nipples sparking hot shivers. His hips shifted against Jack’s hold, searching without meaning to. His ass pressing back, almost expecting to feel an erect cock there, relaxing when all he encountered was softness.
Jack slid one hand lower, over Vanessa’s flat stomach, fingertips grazing the waist of her denim skirt. Philip’s pulse spiked. He could feel the shape of her body in ways he’d only imagined.
“God, you’re actually shaking,” Jack teased. He pressed his palm harder, dragging upward until he cupped one of Vanessa’s breasts through her shirt. His hand molded perfectly to the curve, fingers sinking in slightly before closing over the nipples and pinching.
Philip jolted like he’d been shocked. The pressure sent heat exploding through him. So much sharper than he ever imagined. A moan slipped out, broken and needy, before he could stop it. Jack laughed low, his voice a husky echo in Katy’s mouth.
“I knew it. You’re loving this.”
Philip shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Vanessa’s breasts were soft in his own hands when Jack pulled them into place, squeezing and kneading.
The ache in his chest spread downward, a molten restlessness that coiled between his legs, where there was no longer any familiar weight. Only a slick, sensitive heat that made his thighs tense. Jack leaned closer, kissing the side of Vanessa's neck.
Katy’s lips left tingling sparks against her skin. He gasped again, tilting his head back without meaning to, giving Jack room to explore.
“You always wanted to know what she felt like, didn’t you?” Jack murmured between kisses. “Now you do. Every inch. Every little twitch. If you ever get the chance, you could make her cum in minutes.”
Philip squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to want this. But Vanessa’s body was singing beneath his skin, her curves hypersensitive to every touch, every squeeze. When Jack dragged his hand lower, cupping the swell of her ass through denim, Philip’s knees went weak. He stumbled, and they tumbled together onto the nearest bed. Vanessa’s smaller frame pinned beneath Katy’s.
Jack landed on top, grinning down, hair falling in a dark curtain around their faces. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” he said, voice husky. “I’ll do all the work and you can take notes in your head.”
Katy’s hips pressed down, grinding just enough for Philip to feel the press of her pussy against Vanessa's. The pleasure nearly made him see stars. What would it feel like if Katy actually touched her clit? Dragged her tongue over it? Sucked it between those soft lips?
Philip whimpered, his hands trapped between them, pressed against the curves of Katy’s sides. He could feel the warmth of skin through fabric. Every nerve screamed with arousal. Jack leaned down, lips hovering over his.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Philip’s heart thundered. His lips parted, and he didn’t know if he was going to say I don’t or kiss Katy. His pulse roared in his ears. He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s chest rising and falling too fast, her heartbeat thundering in her ribs like a trapped animal.
Jack hovered over him, Katy’s taller frame caging him against the mattress, their borrowed hair spilling together in a curtain that smelled faintly of fruit.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Philip rasped, but his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of arousal under the words.
Jack smirked. “I’m not joking.” He lowered Katy’s body until their breasts touched, brushing Katy’s peaked nipples against Vanessa’s rock hard ones. The friction alone made Philip gasp, heat shooting through him. It wasn’t like pressing chest-to-chest with another guy.
The give, the shape, the electric sting of nipples touching, every detail was overwhelming. He had no idea breasts were so receptive to the slightest touch. Vanessa's wasn’t even uncovered and they made him squirm.
“God,” he groaned before he could stop himself. Jack’s grin widened in satisfaction.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Every touch goes both ways. You squeeze her,” He pressed Katy’s hand down onto one of Vanessa’s breasts, forcing Philip to feel it fully, “And you are her.”
Philip arched into the contact despite himself. His hands moved up without any conscious thought. The weight of her breast in his palm, the nipple reacting instantly under his touch, each tiny spark flooded through him in a way his male body never reacted to anything but pressure on his cock.
He kneaded once, twice, and heat surged low in his stomach, between his thighs, turning his panties damp. His back bowed off the mattress, mouth falling open in a helpless sound.
Jack kissed him then. Katy’s mouth grazing Vanessa's jaw, the corner of her mouth, teasing as it moved around.
Every brush of her sweet lips left a wet, burning mark. Philip turned away, breathless, but Jack followed, biting gently at Vanessa’s neck until Philip gasped.
His thighs clenched hard. Something slick and molten was spreading there, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He could feel the absence, the soft, tender heat where his cock would usually be straining.
The pressure of denim against it only sharpened the ache. He needed Jack to touch Vanessa's pussy. He needed pressure. Jack ground down lightly and Philip bucked up helplessly, his own hands gripping Katy’s hips tight, chasing the friction he’d die without.
“Stop,” he panted, but the word broke halfway, turning into a moan. Jack chuckled low.
“Your body doesn’t want me to stop.” He kissed Vanessa again. Her lips plump, glossy, trembling beneath Katy’s teasing press. Philip’s breath hitched and his tongue flicked nervously against the edge of his teeth.
Every nerve screamed to close the distance, to taste what it felt like to kiss as a girl, to be kissed as a girl. Jack deepened the grind of their hips. Philip’s breath hitched sharply, a helpless whimper leaving his throat.
Heat surged through his belly, down his thighs, the ache between his legs swelling into a throbbing need. He arched against Katy, nails digging into her waist. There’s no way he was going to be able to say no. Jack had to make him cum.
Jack pulled back slightly, asking with twinkling eyes, “Shall we see how good Katy is at eating pussy?”
Philip knew what his answer should be, but his entire body was throbbing, yes yes yes.
Their mouths hovered a fraction apart, breaths mingling. The world narrowed to that single point of contact waiting to happen. Philip’s lips parted, ready, needy.
“Vanessa? Katy?” The voice cut through the fog like a blade, followed by the rap of knuckles on the door.
Philip’s eyes flew wide. Jack froze above him, both of them panting hard. “Vanessa, Katy!” another girl called from the hall. “We need you for the final discussions for tonight’s mixer!”
Silence. Only their ragged breaths, the hot press of bodies still locked together. Jack swore under his breath, rolling off Vanessa reluctantly.
“Just when things were about to get really good.”
Philip scrambled upright, Vanessa’s hair tangling in his face, chest heaving, nipples still hard and aching. He shoved shaky hands through the strands, trying to compose himself, though the slick heat between his thighs throbbed in open defiance.
He knew they should have kept their heads. If they let curiosity drag them off course they would blow the whole point of the night. The spell would end when it wanted and they had no idea when that would be.
Another knock. “Come on, you two! Hurry up! Megan saw you get in earlier, I know you’re in there.”
Jack smirked, tugging Katy’s tank top straight as if they hadn’t just been seconds from fucking each other into oblivion.
“Guess there’s more fun ahead. Don’t think you’re off the hook though, I’m still going to eat that pussy later and I fully expect to get repaid in kind.”
Philip sat frozen, heart still hammering, his mind spinning so fast he worried he might throw up.
All characters are 18 or older.
Rachel Smith came home from school exhausted. She did not want to think about going back to school for tomorrow, the tests she’d taken today alone had mentally drained her and going back tomorrow to finish the rest of them was not a pleasant thought. At least that would be their last day of testing for a while. I almost forgot Rachel thought as she plopped down onto the couch, I promised Elizabeth and Susan I'd check up on them.
Me: Hey all!
How were the tests?
Elizabeth: Ugh!
Don’t talk to me about them right now, alright?
Susan: I don’t think I did too well, honestly
Think I’m going to flunk biology at this rate…
I hope I’ll still be able to graduate though
Me: I’m not sure how the colleges will take that
You know, failing thing?
Susan: omg
Rachel, shut up.
Did you even do your tests?
Or were you doing your little “cheating”?
Rachel paused. Of course, she hadn’t cheated today, the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind to do so. Afterall, if she had, what would have been the point of all those sleepless nights studying for all this? But… I mean… for English, Matthew will be in the same class as me… Rachel swallowed, not sure if this was something she was really considering doing, then again, it would make her life a lot easier. As far as she knew, no one was able to tell what happened to them after she left, although there was the problem that she wouldn’t be able to stay inside them for too long, otherwise she might not have enough time to write down the answers on her own test.
Rachel shook her head and picked up her phone again:
Me:As if!
Unlike some people, I wouldn’t use my powers for selfish reasons!
Elizabeth: Girl,
You used them to see how large Trevor’s penis was
Me: That wasn’t selfish!
That was for science!
Anyway
I promise you girls I didn’t cheat
Well, she didn’t cheat today anyway. But tomorrow, well that was another story. Although Elizabeth and Susan didn’t need to know that. It wouldn’t be fair to them if they knew she was having an easier time just because of something like this. It’s funny how it all happened.
There were three of them, Rachel, Elizabeth, and Susan. Susan was the shortest of them, with tanned skin and dark hair. Elizabeth was the tallest, standing taller than even some of the boys at their school. Unlike Susan and Rachel, Elizabeth had lean muscles all along her body, although most people wouldn’t notice as she kept her clothes on the baggier side. And then there was Rachel who stood shorter than Elizabeth, but taller than Susan. Rachel’s red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and she was laughing at a joke Susan said.
They had taken a break from studying for their upcoming tests when Rachel noticed a yard sale in their neighborhood run by an old woman. When asked, the woman gave them a sad smile and told them most of these things belonged to either her late husband or her daughter, both of whom sadly passed away in a car accident a few weeks back.
While Elizabeth was consoling the woman, Rachel decided to look through some of the belongings that were up for sale. Some old clothes, a few sports equipment, and some books. Rachel paused when she noticed a box of books mostly hidden behind some golf clubs. She peered over the top, and nearly squealed when she saw they were first edition copies of Jane Smith’s Dearest Diary series. Is this the whole collection? Rachel wondered, flipping through some of the books in the box. It was indeed.
“Excuse me?” Rachel asked, “How much for the box of them?”
The old woman gave a small smile and walked closer, examining the thing that caught Rachel’s eye, “For the set, I’d say twenty dollars should do the trick,” the woman replied, “Hazel loved this when she was a kid.”
Rachel eagerly handed the woman the money and as soon as she took the box in her hands the woman piped up again, “Oh, I think my dear Tom might’ve left something in one of those books. He always liked getting into some trouble, if you find it it’s yours to keep!”
Trouble? Rachel smiled and waved for Elizabeth and Susan to follow her as they went back to her house. Once they were in his room, Rachel immediately got to work making room in her bookshelf to store those books. While she was doing so, Elizabeth and Susan were making light jokes at her expense, out of all the things in that yard sale, Rachel got books, most of which she already owned.
Of course you wouldn’t understand the pleasure of a first edition book you love Rachel thought, placing five of the twelve books in her bookcase. Something slipped out from between the pages of book six though. Rachel frowned, and bent down to pick it up, “What’s that?” Susan asked, as she and Elizabeth got closer.
“It looks like a letter,” Rachel replied, picking it up in her hands.
“Should we open it?” Susan asked.
“We probably shouldn’t,” Elizabeth replied, “it’s not ours.”
“That old lady said we could have whatever we find inside.” Rachel reminded her, getting ready to open it.
Elizabeth stepped forward and made a swipe for the letter, “What if it’s something dangerous? Like… drugs or something?”
Rachel managed to fend her off and Susan helped hold Elizabeth back, “We won’t know until we try. Besides, aren’t you two just the tiniest bit curious?”
Elizabeth swallowed, but didn’t answer. Susan, however, was nodding her head enthusiastically. That was all Rachel needed and she opened the envelope, not sure what might be inside.
To little fanfare, all that was inside was just a letter, “It looks like a simple letter,” Rachel revealed with a sigh.
“What’s it say?” Susan asked.
Rachel held the letter up, the handwriting wasn’t the greatest, and neither was the paper quality, but eventually she managed to work out the words. She read aloud:
To Hazel,
I want you to have something of mine. It’s a little trick I’ve picked up from my travels when I was younger. Maybe one day I’ll tell you where I found it, but until that day comes, I will leave with this and this alone.
Now, I don’t want to tell you much of the details of what I got up to with this little trick of mine, but just know that I know what to look for so don’t you think about causing any trouble with this, alright?
Rachel frowned when she tried to read beyond that point. She wasn’t sure if maybe the old man’s writing got particularly bad or if he was writing in another language, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was written after. It all just looked like a bunch of squiggly symbols.
“What’s wrong?” Susan asked.
“I can’t read anything else,” Rachel replied.
“Well maybe that’s for the best then,” Elizabeth said as Rachel stared harder at the words, “afterall, this seems like something intimate between a dad and his daughter, I don’t think it’s really our place to - OH MY GOD!”
At first, Rachel wasn’t sure what got Elizabeth so excited, and then Susan started freaking out too. They were shouting at her to drop the letter, and Rachel looked at them, not sure why they were freaking out, but then she realized the paper was burning in her hands.
She sucked in a breath, but before she could even think of letting go, the fire completely enveloped the paper, however, as the fire burned Rachel swore the strange words glowed white hot against the fire. What happened next, Rachel wasn’t exactly sure, the fire and the words flowed into her and Rachel felt something tugging at her very being. Suddenly, she felt herself lurching forward and she stumbled back until her back hit the wall.
“Ow!” Rachel cried out as the back of her head protested in pain.
“Rachel, oh my god, are you alright?” Susan cried.
Rachel, still with her eyes closed, replied, “I’m fine, just a little bump.”
“Elizabeth, this is serious!” Susan nearly shrieked.
Rachel opened her eyes, and she noticed she was taller, and her body felt stronger than it had before. She wiped some stray blonde strands from her face -- wait, blonde hair?
She looked over at Susan and saw she was crouching over Rachel’s own body. Rachel stared in horror, lifting up her hands to see they weren’t actually her hands, but were actually Elizabeth’s.
“Elizabeth!” Susan hissed, “Don’t just stand there! Get help!”
“I’m not Elizabeth!” Rachel breathed.
“What?”
“I said I’m not Elizabeth!” Rachel said, “I’m Rachel,” she pointed to her own body on the floor, “that… that’s my body… except,” she looked down at herself again, “I’m not in it.”
“Is Elizabeth in there?” Susan asked.
Hello? Rachel thought, Hello? Elizabeth! Are you there? She shook her head and crouched down beside her own body. Her body was still breathing, that was good, at least it wouldn’t die without her inside. She tried poking and prodding, but no response.
“Elizabeth isn’t in this body,” Rachel replied, “and it looks like mine’s empty.”
Before either of them could think of what happened, the door opened and Rachel’s mom came in. She was gasping for breath, “Girls! What happened? Why were you screaming?”
“O-oh! Mo-Mrs. Smith!” Rachel began, trying to think of a way out of this, “There was… a spider hiding in the books! A big one! It scared us all until we managed to kill it, but… I think Rachel fainted from the sight of it.”
Rachel’s mom sighed, “Well, that’s alright,” she frowned at the sight of Rachel’s body unconscious on the floor, “I think you should make sure Rachel didn’t hurt herself when she fell, it could be serious.”
“We will,” Susan piped up, “thanks, Mrs. Smith!”
With that, Rachel’s mom, thankfully left the room and Rachel and Susan were still trying to figure out what happened. Am I trapped here? Rachel wondered, How do I get back to my body?
“Can you get out of her?” Susan asked.
“I don’t know!” Rachel replied, running her fingers through Elizabeth’s blonde hair, “I’m-I’m trying to think!”
“Well what happened that made you go inside her?” Susuan asked.
“I-I-I don’t know!” Rachel hissed, “I just felt something pulling at me and one second I was in my body and the next I’m in Elizabeth’s!”
Susan looked around, trying to see if there were any remains of the paper left that might explain what happened. While she was doing so, Rachel was taking a few deep breaths as she looked back at her body on the floor. Alright, I’ll… see if I can’t replicate that, somehow.
Sitting down, Rachel closed her eyes and imagined herself, a ghost of herself, getting outside of Elizabeth’s body. She kept the image, concentrating harder and harder until she felt something, like a hook pulling at her. Is it working? Can I get out of here?
Rachel focused on that feeling and imagined that hook pulling her out of Elizabeth’s body. The feeling of pulling grew stronger and stronger until Elizabeth shuddered and Rachel was able to slip out. Only… she wasn’t back in her body.
She floated outside, like a ghost. From this, she was able to see her body still on the floor and Elizabeth slowly regaining consciousness. She went over towards her body, feeling a slight pull, but hesitated when she noticed Susan was still searching for any clue of what might’ve happened, crouching down to look for any remains of that strange letter.
Rachel smiled, feeling a little mischievous, it wouldn’t be fair if only Liz got possessed, afterall. She floated closer to Susan and felt a slight pull as she got closer. She plunged herself into Susuan just as she was standing up and Susan shuddered, gasped, and then Rachel opened her eyes and found herself in Susan’s body.
Elizabeth groaned, “Ow… I think I hit my head… Oh my-! Rachel! Are you-?”
“I’m fine,” Rachel replied, facing Elizabeth.
“Susan, this isn’t the time for joking around, I think Rachel’s-”
Rachel held up a hand, “Liz, relax, it’s me, Rachel. I think that letter was a spell of some kind… it put me in your body and then I was able to get out and decided to possess Susan.”
Elizabeth swallowed, frowning, “You really expect me to believe that?”
“I know it sounds far-fetched, but it’s the truth! Look, would Susan really be trying to mess with you if I was really in danger?”
The wheels were turning behind Elizabeth’s eyes, but Rachel knew she still didn’t believe this. “Prove it,” she said, “Tell me something only Rachel would know.”
Rachel thought for a moment, but decided this might be the perfect opportunity to mess with Elizabeth for a bit. “You panicked in the fifth grade when you forgot to buy a gift for Susan’s birthday and had to piggyback off my gift. In middle school you decided to tell me that you thought boys were icky and had no idea why Susan was so interested in them, going as far as calling Maxwell, her current crush at the time, a loser dweeb,” Rachel saw Elizabeth’s expression changing from skeptical to disbelief and knew she believed her, but decided to keep going, “in freshman year you came out to me as a lesbian and I assured you that Susan would accept you, too, and after a week of planning you came out as a lesbian. The day afterwards, I decided to tell you I was bisexual and then told Susan the day after…” Elizabeth was looking a bit red in the face now, “and last year, you and I shared a kiss behind the school to test things out. We didn’t tell Susan and while we fooled around, we decided it was better to stay as friends.”
Elizabeth was covering her face with her hands now, “Jeez, I believed you after the second thing, you didn’t need to keep going.”
Rachel giggled and gave Elizabeth a quick peck on the cheek. She barely had time to react before Elizabeth lashed out, swiping at her with her hand. Rachel kept laughing, although she made sure to cover her face with her arms, “Woah! Careful, Liz! This is Susan’s body, you know!”
“I know,” Elizabeth growled, “and can you please get out of her? I’m already freaking out enough now.”
Rachel smiled and prepared herself to leave again. The pull came easier now, and she was able to easily slip out of Susan’s body and entered her own. She got up, wincing as she felt where her body had hit the floor when she flew out of it. Ow! I guess I have to be careful when I leave because I’ll feel the pain when I come back in! Ow!
While Rachel was tending to the ache in her head, Susan got up and looked around, confused as to why she was no longer near the bookshelf. She noticed, however, that both Elizabeth and Rachel were up. “What happened?” Susan asked slowly, “No way, Rachel? Did you possess me?”
“I thought it was the best way to explain to Elizabeth what happened,” Rachel replied, still rubbing her head, “Don’t worry, nothing happened while you were gone.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, looking at Rachel with a dark expression, “nothing happened.”
“So neither of you were aware of anything while I was inside you?” Rachel asked, starting to get to her feet.
“Last thing I remembered before coming to was freaking out because that letter was on fire,” Elizabeth replied, “after that… I woke up on the floor.”
“Same,” Susan replied, “I was just looking for anything that might tell us what was happening when everything went black and then I was on the floor.”
After that little episode, the three of them decided to test out potential limits for Rachel’s powers. As far as they can tell, there was no distance limit to how far away she can get from her body, nor did there appear to be a time limit to how long Rachel can stay outside her body, although she didn’t want to stay out of it for too long as her body still needed to eat. As a ghost, Rachel wasn’t able to travel very fast, only going about walking speed, but she was able to go through walls and fly. She didn’t test out if she could possess animals because she was scared she might not be able to leave.
The three of them had some fun for her powers, with one of the first things Rachel did was possess Susan’s crush, Trevor, and go through his phone to look for any clues about what he might be interested in. Rachel found him alone in his room studying when she came upon him. As she slipped inside, Trevor shuddered and gasped, “What the f-!” before Rachel completely took over.
So, this is what it’s like being a boy, Rachel thought, flexing her arms, I could get used to this, anyway, time to see if I can find anything he’s interested in. His phone was, thankfully, unlocked and after combing through it, she gasped when she found his gallery and the stuff that was inside it. There were numerous pictures of girls in various states of undress, Rachel recognized them as being in her same grade and covered her mouth. Oh my… I never would’ve thought Trevor got around this much!
These pictures looked like they were taken by the girls themselves too, and they usually winked or smiled at the camera, no doubt intending this as a gift for Trevor for later. I need to tell Susan, now! she quickly messaged Susan from Trevor’s phone before deleting the conversation on his end so he wouldn’t have any evidence that she had been messing around with his stuff.
Rachel sighed and was about to leave Trevor’s body when she felt something pressing hard against her pants. Don’t tell me… she looked down and gasped when she saw Trevor’s boner winking at her. She licked her lips, she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, but… well she was always curious about what masturbating with a penis felt like and Trevor had plenty of material on his phone to get her going.
I'm going to masturbate as a boy!
Susan: Elizabeth is saying not to, but I wanna see a dick pic!
Alright! Before she could second guess the morality of the situation, Rachel got to her feet and locked herself in the bathroom before ripping off Trevor’s pants. Trevor’s penis wasn’t anything special, a bit on the smaller and slimmer side, but it reacted quickly to Rachel’s touch. She sent a quick picture to Susan before erasing all the evidence from Trevor’s phone before she got to work.
She opened Trevor’s gallery again, scrolling through the various pictures he had, all of it was making her feel warm and she quickly discovered a rhythm to stroking his cock. Mmh, Veronica definitely has a nice body! Rachel thought, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, as she stared at a photo of a mostly naked Veronica, And Abigail's hot! Who knew she was hiding all that under her baggy clothes? Trevor’s dick was twitched in her hand as she scrolled his gallery, the pleasure beginning to overcome her. It was much faster than masturbating as a girl, and she could feel the pressure rising within herself. With one final grunt, Rachel experienced her first orgasm as a guy and decided it would be funny to leave Trevor in his own sperm soaked mess.
Susan decided not to pursue Trevor, not because of the various pictures on his phone, but because she thought his dick was too small, but Rachel thought she was caring too much about the wrong things, it felt perfect to her, the pictures on his phone, however, that would have turned her off of him if she had even been interested.
It was crazy to think that had all only been a few days ago, and now here she was, in class once again about to use her power to help her cheat on her tests. It was easy enough getting out of her own skin, she just had to make sure to make it look like she was thinking and not passed out in class. After leaving her body, she made her way to Matthew without much trouble and got inside of him.
As usual, there was a slight struggle as her consciousness overpowered the person already in here, but thankfully all Matthew did was let out a small gasp. Alright, I’m in! Rachel quickly flipped through Matthew’s test, doing her best to memorize what answers he’d pick before she returned to her own body.
As she left Matthew though, she saw something strange when she came back out. For a moment, she thought she saw a blur of something vaguely person-shaped slip into the body of one of the girls in class, a quiet girl with big glasses named Vanessa, someone Rachel rarely spoke to, but had heard some of the boys whisper about excitedly. At first, Rachel thought she imagined it until Vanessa gave the telltale shudder and gasped. What?
A wicked smile etched itself on Vanessa’s mouth and she raised her hand and asked to leave to go to the bathroom. Rachel was curious, wanting to see what was going on before she remembered she hadn’t written down any of the answers. Quickly, she returned to her own body and copied down the answers she’d gotten from Matthew, making sure to occasionally mark a different answer so she didn’t get flagged for cheating. Although how exactly they would prove she’d cheated was beyond her, it was better not to take any chances here.
From there, Rachel waited, keeping an eye on the clock. She’d finished her own test and almost an hour passed but Vanessa still wasn’t back. I need to go check on her. Putting her head down, Rachel slipped out of her body and left the classroom. She heard Vanessa, or whoever was inside Vanessa, say she was going to the bathroom so that’s where Rachel headed.
She slipped inside and immediately heard crying, mixed in with mumblings of words. Worried, Rachel came closer, stopping when she saw a pile of clothes, Vanessa’s clothes, laying in a puddle of water in front of the sinks and Vanessa huddled naked against the wall, crying.
Vanessa made little effort to hide her body, as her hands were busy covering her face rather than anything else, leaving her small breasts exposed, as well as exposing her shaved pussy. As she got closer, Rachel noticed something leaking from Vanessa’s vagina, like she had been aroused earlier.
What happened here? Rachel thought.
She approached Vanessa, examining her to see if something was wrong. It didn’t look like someone was inside her, but Rachel had no idea what happened. Naturally she couldn’t ask Vanessa this, and even if she could Vanessa wouldn’t have any memory of what happened when she was possessed.
Rachel looked down at the clothes on the floor. They were wet, and wouldn’t look like they’d dry until after the test. I… I need to help her. Rachel went inside Vanessa. She gasped as she found herself in control of the other girl's body, and shivered from the coldness of the bathroom tile against her naked skin.
She couldn’t help but notice something else. This body felt good like it had just recently orgasmed. Rachel gulped, and stood up. She grabbed as many paper towels as she could and went to work trying to dry off Vanessa’s clothes. It wouldn’t get it all out, but that wasn’t the plan.
She slipped the clothes on, shivering intensely at how cold everything was before leaving the bathroom where one of the hall monitors noticed her and flagged her down.
“Young lady,” he began, “why on earth are you soaking wet?”
“There’s a problem with the sink,” Rachel lied, “it sprayed water all over me when I tried to wash my hands.”
The hall monitor sighed, “Well, I can’t let you return to your classroom like this, follow me, we’ll see if we can get you some dry clothes from the lost and found.”
Vanessa returned to class wearing an oversized hoodie along with a pair of sweatpants that were slightly too big for her. It didn’t help that they both smelled of sweat and body odor, but at least now Vanessa could finish her test. Feeling extra helpful, Rachel decided to fill in the answers for her that she took from Matthew, again, making sure she separated them from her own answers. Alright, I hope this goes well for her, Rachel thought as she got ready to leave her body poor girl.
With that, she returned to her own body and waited until the bell rang and class was let out to go to lunch. Is there someone else here with powers like mine? she wondered as she grabbed her belongings. Rachel glanced around the room, wondering if maybe whoever it was might’ve been in the room with her. No, she hadn’t noticed anyone else seemingly passed out like how she looks when she becomes a ghost. Someone from outside her classroom then, but staff or student? Boy or girl? As Rachel walked into the hallway and towards the cafeteria, she continued to glance around as more and more students came into the hall. Any one of them could have powers like hers.
Rachel thankfully managed to find Susan and Elizabeth during lunch. She was worried they would have different lunch schedules because of the test, but that wasn’t the case. Elizabeth and Susan were in the middle of talking about what they were going to do after the test. They almost didn’t notice Rachel sitting down next to them until she asked, “Hey, has anyone in your class acted… weird today?”
“Well hello to you, too, Rachel,” Susan replied, “anyway… no, not really. Why? Did something happen?”
Rachel lowered her voice, it wouldn’t be good if whoever was behind this overheard what she was going to tell them. No telling how this other person would react. “During the test… you know that quiet girl, Vanessa? I saw someone jump into her and, after some time had passed, I decided to follow using my powers…” she paused as she gathered herself to prepare to explain what happened next as she was still shaken by the sight of it, “when I found her in the bathroom, she was naked and all of her clothes had been soaked in the sink. When I hopped inside of her I also felt like… like she had just orgasmed.”
Susan and Elizabeth gasped and leaned back in their seats, their eyes wide with horror. “What did you do?” Elizabeth asked.
“I dried off her clothes the best I could,” Rachel explained, “afterwards, I picked up some clothes from the lost and found and finished her test for her.” After she finished, Rachel looked around the cafeteria, wondering if anyone had been listening in to their conversation. None of the students seemed to notice or care, being far more interested in their own meals or conversations. Still, Rachel felt her skin crawl at the thought that the person responsible was in this room with them.
“Should…” Susan hesitated, “should we do something about this?”
“What can we do?” Elizabeth asked, “I don’t think any member of the staff will believe us if we tell them what happened and I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do to this creep without putting ourselves in harm's way!”
“I might be able to do something.” Rachel said.
“Rachel, no-” Elizabeth began.
“I’m the only one with powers like this,” Rachel cut her off, “I’m the only one who would be able to see them, and I might be able to put a stop to all this.”
“Rachel,” Elizabeth said, “please be careful, alright? From what you said, I… don’t feel comfortable with you going to confront this guy alone.”
“Elizabeth is right,” Susan agreed, “what if he’s, I don’t know, able to turn the tables on you?”
Rachel swallowed, feeling sick, “I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
For the rest of the day, Rachel was on high alert, keeping a close eye on any of her classmates to see if they acted off. However, nothing happened. At least, not in her class anyway. After the tests were over and everyone got their phones back, Rachel was immediately hit with several messages from both Susan and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Rachel, we have a problem
He struck again.
Melissa, you know, the girl in the school band with the freckles?
She left for the restroom and didn’t come back
Going to check on her now
Susan: Rachel, problem.
several girls were straight up missing when we came back
The teacher didn’t know what happened to them
Some of their friends said the girls left during lunch and then they just didn’t come back
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Rachel took in a breath, and as calmly as she could, she looked around for anything suspicious. She almost missed it, but she saw one of the girls in the cheer leading team, a tall brunette named Victoria, suddenly gasp and shudder, stopping briefly mid walk and suddenly turning around with a slight smile on her face. Bingo.
Me:I found him. I’m going to follow him for a bit and see what happens
Elizabeth: Careful.
Susan: Stay safe
With that, Rachel put her phone away and followed Victoria, or rather the person possessing Victoria, through the hallways. She made sure to keep her distance, didn’t want whoever was inside Victoria getting suspicious about her, but she also made sure to keep Victoria in her line of sight so she wouldn’t get away.
At first, Rachel thought the possessor would take Victoria into another bathroom, but no, whoever it was was taking Victoria inside the girls locker room. No one else was inside when Victoria walked in, and Rachel was barely able to slip in herself without the door closing on her. From there, she decided to hide herself away near the entrance where, hopefully, her body wouldn’t be seen.
Alright, Rachel thought, her mouth a bit dry, I’m going in. She separated herself from her body and floated over in the direction of the lockers.
She wasn’t surprised when she saw Victoria’s body already in a state of undress. Whoever was inside her had already taken off Victoria’s shoes, socks, pants, and shirt, leaving her in just her white bra and panties. The imposter stood in front of the mirror inside Victoria’s locker, admiring Victoria’s body with a wicked grin on her face as her hands reached behind her back to unclip the bra, slipping it off her and allowing Victoria’s full breasts to come into view.
Rachel caught sight of herself in the locker mirror and froze, Oh god, does he see me? The imposter, however, didn’t look like he was able to see ghosts while he was possessing someone, much like how Rachel didn’t see him while she was inside Matthew’s body. While Rachel stood frozen, the imposter took the opportunity to slide off Victoria’s panties and was now standing completely naked in front of the mirror, admiring how Victoria looked. “Oh yeah,” she growled, “much better than that mousy little Vanessa, no idea what the other guys were seeing in her.”
Rachel continued floating over, moving agonizingly slow.
One of Victoria’s hands went to her breasts, cupping them and squeezing the nipples. “Mmm, bigger than Melissa’s,” she moaned, “but not as sensitive-OH!” Victoria arched her back as her fingers slipped inside her vagina, “Oh FUCK! Oh! I think she’s the most sensitive one so far!”
Rachel held out her hands as she got closer to Victoria. Unlike before, where she always felt a slight pull towards the body she was about to enter, here she felt a slight push and she had to force herself to get closer. Fortunately, the imposter didn’t seem to notice, lost as he was busy pleasuring himself in Victoria’s body. As he got closer to the climax, Rachel was able to make her way into Victoria’s body. Get out!
”What the? Who are you? You get out!”
Rachel jerked, causing Victoria’s leg to jerk. Her vision was darkness until she saw flashes of the locker room from Victoria’s perspective. She felt a hand closing in on her throat and wasn’t sure who was the one squeezing, if it was her or the other person. I said… GET OUT1
With a shove, Rachel pushed the other presence out of Victoria and gained control for a brief moment. She looked around and was about to leave when she felt the presence trying to come back in, Victoria’s body started shuddering and Rachel once again found herself fighting for control against this creep.
I won’t let you take advantage of anyone else! Rachel screamed, leaving Victoria’s body, but making sure she dragged the other presence out with her. Bodiless, as ghosts, they both floated in the locker room, and while they had each other’s hands around the other person’s throat, neither of them were able to feel pain, just mild discomfort.
But Rachel gasped when she saw who the other person was. It was Trevor, and he was glaring down at her, but the anger quickly melted into surprise and they both let go, floating a little bit away from each other. “Trevor?” Rachel gasped.
“Rachel?” Trevor gasped.
Rachel thought back to when she searched Trevor’s phone, some of those pictures of the girls were taken from their perspectives, at first, she had thought Trevor was flirting around with all those girls, but could he have actually been possessing them and used them to give himself those pictures?
“How… how long did you have this power?” Rachel asked.
“A month, just about,” Trevor replied, sneering, “I think you can see what I’ve been using it for. You?”
“A little over two weeks.”
Trevor thought for a moment, and his sneer deepened, “Ah, so I guess it was you I have to thank for waking up covered in my own mess that one time. Well, as you can see, you might’ve inspired me to do more with my powers than just simple pictures.”
“Why did you leave them stranded without clothes?”
Trevor shrugged, “I didn’t do that will all of them, just the ones who went out of their way to mock me, judge me, call me a creep! A pervert! Loser!”
Rachel scoffed, “I don’t think they were too far off with those claims seeing what you’ve done,”
“Really?” Trevor asked, coming closer, “You violated me, and then judge me when I do the same? Well, let’s see how you like it then! Your body must be around here, somewhere, right?”
Before she could react, Trevor shoved her aside and started floating off towards the exit of the locker room, right where her body was. Shit! Rachel thought, floating behind him. Trevor glanced behind him as he floated, “Heh, guess I’m getting close.”
Fuck! Rachel thought, I shouldn’t have followed! Now he knows where my body is! She tried going faster, using her ghostly arms and legs to try to propel herself forward, but it was no use, both her and Trevor were going the exact same speed, but Trevor was ahead of her. No.
Her body came into view, slumped over against the wall. Trevor chuckled as he got closer and slowly started to slip inside. NO! Rachel reached forward, forcing herself inside before Trevor could get in her body. She expected resistance, a fight, anything, but she gasped awake as she easily slipped inside her body.
What? Where’s-? Suddenly, she gasped, her body jerking on its own accord, she felt him then, trying to force his way inside of her. Rachel knew then that he wanted her to get inside first, so she’d be trapped while he possessed her. She needed to leave! Now!
“You’re not going anywhere.” Trevor whispered in her mind as Rachel felt the pulling turn into pushing as she forced inside her body as Trevor took control. She continued fighting, but she was quickly losing. She stopped feeling her legs, then her arms, until all she controlled was her eyes and then her vision slowly slipped away as she lost all control. no…
Trevor gasped awake, grinning as he looked down at his hands, Rachel’s hands. Okay Rachel, let’s see how you like being played with. He made his way over to the lockers again, having completely forgotten about Victoria until she finally regained consciousness and shrieked when she discovered she was naked.
“Rachel!” Victoria shrieked, grabbing Rachel’s shirt, “What happened? Why am I naked? Did you see whoever did this?”
Trevor smiled, and leaned closer, kissing Victoria on the lips, when he pulled back, Victoria was staring at him wide eyed, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just couldn’t resist, especially seeing you like this.”
Victoria pulled away, quickly grabbing her clothes and using them to cover herself, “Rachel, what the hell? This isn’t the time for anything like that!”
Trevor held up his hands, “Easy, easy, I was just suggesting we can take advantage of the moment, you know?”
Victoria’s face went red and she quickly ran out of the locker room. Damn, Trevor thought, watching her go, I was really looking forward to trying sex as a woman. Maybe I came off too strong. Oh well, at least I still have this body.
Trevor stood in front of the mirror of Victoria’s locker. Let’s see what we’re working with here. Trevor went to work, taking off Rachel’s boots first. He was surprised to see she wasn’t wearing any socks, but that was fine, less work for him. Afterwards, her shirt came off, Oh Rachel, naughty girl, underneath, a black bra held back her freckled breasts. I can’t wait to play with those Trevor thought, but first, her pants came off next, and Trevor eagerly ripped off the matching black panties. Oh my! Trevor laughed giddily as the underwear came off, I was not expecting this! Rachel’s pussy was completely shaved, giving him a nice clean view of her mound and puffy lips.
His hands went to his bra, he shook slightly from anticipation before taking it off. Rachel’s breasts weren’t as large as Victoria’s, but they were very soft and bouncy, and the freckles dusting across her skin drew his eyes to her breasts' natural roundness. He swallowed, breathing deeply as heat gathered between Rachel’s legs.
No sense putting all this off, then Without further ado, Trevor sat down and got to work fingering Rachel. Oh! Trevor bit his lip, Rachel’s back arching of its own accord as his fingers slipped inside her warmth, Shit! She’s sensitive! He licked his lips, moaning deeply as he fingered her. He found her clitoris easily and a few flicks nearly incapacitated him from the sheer pleasure.
He grunted, his free hand cupping her breasts and rubbing her erect nipples. Finally, it came. With a loud groan, Trevor felt Rachel’s body climax and laid dazed for a moment, unable to feel his legs. Fuck, Rachel. I think… out of all the bodies I’ve possessed, yours is my favorite. Trevor was about to get up and leave Rachel laying here in her shame when he heard a ding coming from her discarded pants.
It was Rachel’s phone.
Elizabeth: Rachel, you alright?
Did you find out who did it?
Trevor grinned, maybe he might be able to have sex with a woman after all. He just needed to play his cards better this time. Sorry, Rachel, looks like I’m staying in here for a little longer.
Me: Don’t worry, I’m fine.
Wanna meet up at my house?
I’ll tell you what I found out.
Elizabeth: Sure
I’ll bring Susan with me.
Oh, this was just getting better and better.
The End?
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Chapter by
smatster · 21 Oct 2025 -
The Cheer Squad must overcome an unforeseen but expected obstacle.
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The first day in our new home with Elise was, in a word, surreal. The grandeur of the mansion Nagai had provided was overshadowed by the sheer, overwhelming reality of our new existence. We were a family of eight—or one, depending on how you looked at it—and we were blissfully, chaotically in love. But even the most profound cosmic unions have to face mundane earthly realities.
The first crisis struck around mid-morning.
It began as a low, shared rumble in our collective gut. A feeling so deeply, personally embarrassing that for a moment, the cheerful hum of the cheerleaders’ consciousnesses in my head went completely silent.
“Uh oh,” Hannah’s voice finally piped up, a note of dread in her usually exuberant tone.
It was a feeling we all recognized, amplified by seven. The need for a bathroom break. The big one.
The problem was immediate and horrifyingly obvious. We all had to go. At the same time. And we shared one body. And one… well, one exit.
A wave of pure, unadulterated panic flashed through our shared mind. This was a level of intimacy none of us had signed up for.
“Okay, new rule,” Stacey’s voice cut through the panic, trying to sound commanding but edged with her own anxiety. “We take turns. We… we focus really hard on whose turn it is. Everyone else mentally leaves the room.”
It was a valiant idea. It failed spectacularly.
Chloe went first. We sat our colossal form down on the reinforced titanium toilet Nagai had thoughtfully installed. Chloe focused with all her might, her consciousness pushing to the forefront. The rest of us tried to mentally hum, think of baseball, anything. But we were all still there. We felt the strain. We felt the… effort. She released a tiny fart but no real release. Just a shared sense of agonizing performance anxiety and a growing physical discomfort.
“I can’t!” Chloe wailed mentally, retreating in a wave of frustration and humiliation. “You’re all watching!”
Hannah tried next, with her typical boldness. “Alright, let’s do this! Power through!” She focused, grunting with effort. We felt the internal pressures shift, a tense, muscular contraction that caused another small fart but went nowhere. It was like trying to start a car with seven different people pressing the gas pedal at once.
“This is worse than facing the giant cupcake monster!” Hannah groaned, giving up.
Zoe tried a rhythmic approach, Maya a focused meditation, Brianna a gentle, encouraging effort. Each attempt was a spectacular failure, a symphony of grunts, mental curses, a small trumpet and deepening misery. We were a five-story tall monument to bloated embarrassment.
Elise, sensing our distress from the other room, knocked gently on the door. “Everything okay in there?” Her voice was full of concern.
“NO!” seven voices screamed in my head in unison.
The discomfort was becoming acute. Painful. We were stuck in a hell of our own making.
It was then that I—Josh—realized the flaw in our plan. We were trying to partition a function that was, by its very nature, a whole-body experience. You couldn’t have a committee vote on a peristaltic wave.
“Everyone, stop,” I thought, my mental voice cutting through the despair. “You’re trying to take turns driving a car that only has one engine. It doesn’t work like that.”
A wave of hopelessness greeted me. “So what do we do?” Stacey asked, her voice small.
“We don’t take turns,” I said, a plan forming. “We sync up. We do it together. All of us.”
A chorus of mental shrieks of horror answered me.
“TOGETHER?!”
“Absolutely not!”
“Josh, that’s disgusting!”
“Do you have a better idea?” I asked, the physical pressure making my—our—voice firm. “We’re a team, right? We do everything else together. We fight together, we love together… why is this different? It’s just biology. And right now, our biology is screaming for a team effort.”
There was a long, tense silence. The truth of our situation was inescapable.
“He’s… he’s right,” Chloe said, her voice trembling but resolved. “If we’re one body, we have to… be one body. In all ways.”
“Ugh, fine,” Hannah conceded. “But no mental commentary! Total radio silence!”
“Agreed,” Maya said. “We will treat it as a shared physiological process. No judgment.”
One by one, they reluctantly agreed. We all focused. Not on individual effort, but on a unified release. We stopped fighting the feeling and instead, we accepted it. We leaned into it, together.
It was the strangest, most vulnerable moment of our shared existence. There was no more hiding, no more embarrassment. Just seven souls, deeply connected, focusing on one singular, earthy goal.
We were all mentally sitting on the toilet. And then, it happened.
It wasn't a turn-based event. It was a synchronized, massive, and profoundly relieving… event. A shared sigh of release echoed in our mind, followed by an overwhelming wave of pure, unadulterated physical relief. It was, oddly, not gross in the shared mental space. It was just… a solved problem. A collective need, met.
We sat there for a moment in stunned, relieved silence. Then, a single thought broke through, from Hannah.
“...Well. That was a thing.”
And then, the mental dam broke. Not with revulsion, but with a surge of hysterical, bonding laughter. It was nervous, relieved, and utterly unifying.
“Oh my god!”
“We just did that!”
“Teamwork makes the dream work!”
“I’ve never been so close to anyone in my life!”
We cleaned up, the action now feeling less like a shameful chore and more like a shared maintenance task for our beloved, shared vessel.
When we finally emerged from the bathroom, Elise looked at us with worried eyes. “Everything okay? You were in there for a while.”
Our face—my face— broke into a wide, genuine smile. A smile that held the laughter of seven people who had just faced the final frontier of intimacy and emerged stronger for it.
“Everything’s perfect,” we said, our voice a harmonious blend of all of ours. “We just had our first real team-building exercise.”