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  • The Neighbor's Skin: Becoming Lydia

    Chapter by azn8573 · 26 Dec 2025
  • Home from college and stuck in his childhood bedroom, a restless young man discovers a bizarre side-effect of his meditation practice: the ability to astral project into the body of his gorgeous, seemingly straight-laced neighbor, Lydia. What begins as a thrilling, secret exploration of femininity and fantasy quickly spirals into a surreal entanglement when Lydia reveals she’s been aware of his visits all along...
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  • My breath slowed, easing into the steady rhythm I’d been practicing. The YouTube guru’s voice was a distant murmur in my earbuds. Let your consciousness expand beyond the physical form. Feel the boundaries of your body dissolve… I always felt a little silly doing this in my bedroom, the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling my only witness. But tonight, something was different. A strange, pulling sensation started behind my navel, like a gentle but insistent hook.

    I tried to ignore it, to focus on my breathing, but the tug grew stronger. The feeling of my own body—the weight of my limbs on the bed, the pressure of the mattress against my back—suddenly vanished. There was a dizzying rush of color and sound, a sensation of being pulled through a narrow, dark tunnel at impossible speed.

    Then, with a soft thump I felt I heard more than heard, everything stopped. A weight... A different kind of weight. My chest felt heavy, supported. My hips felt wider.

    I blinked. This wasn’t my room. The air smelled of lavender and expensive perfume. I looked down.

    My hands. They were not my hands. They were smaller, with slender fingers tipped with perfectly manicured, pale pink nails. A delicate silver bracelet hung from one wrist. I wore a silk robe, peach, tied loosely at the waist. My heart—no, her heart—hammered against my ribs.

    A wave of vertigo hit me, followed by a flood of images that weren’t mine. Lydia. Her name is Lydia. A memory of her laughing with my step mom at the mailbox, holding a grocery bag. Another of her watering her roses in a sun dress last weekend. Before I left for college, she'd always waved at me, a kind, almost shy smile on her face.

    Mrs. Henderson from next door. The hot MILF all my friends whispered about but who just seemed… nice.

    I was inside Lydia Henderson.

    Panic surged, a cold, sharp spike. I needed to get back. I tried to concentrate, to will myself back to my own body lying on my bed, but nothing happened. The panic subsided, replaced by a trembling, awe-filled curiosity. I was here. In her.

    I turned, my movements unfamiliar and graceful, and caught my reflection in a full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.

    Wow.

    She was… stunning. Her auburn hair fell …
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