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possession incest reverse body hopper
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
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There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
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The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
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All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
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In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
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For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
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Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
“What the fuck is this supposed to be, you little shits?!” an angry female voice hissed. Milo’s and Rayleigh’s day was about to get worse as they got pushed hard against the metal doors of their lockers. The two 18 year old high school seniors had hoped that their final school year might see an uptick to their popularity, but the two scrawny nerds still had trouble getting along with anyone besides each other. They had an especially troubling “relationship” with two of their classmates: Jenna and Bianca.
They, in stark contrast to Milo and Rayleigh, were two of the most popular girls in the school. And of course, they were as beautiful as they were popular. The reason for their popularity, besides their superb looks, was that they were the star athletes of their high school, which not only gave them amazing physiques but also incredible strength. At least so it seemed to Milo and Rayleigh, as they stood no chance against them with their thin arms. And even if they would defend themselves, the jocks would just kick their asses in retaliation, making this a lose-lose situation for them. Although both of the girls were only a little taller than the boys, it still felt to Milo and Rayleigh as if they were towering over them. They had been using that fact for years to bully and abuse Milo and Rayleigh.
But this side of their personalities was only known to Milo and Rayleigh. Jenna and Bianca used their good looks to hide behind a facade. You see, they were not just intimidating. They were also intimidatingly beautiful. For everyone else they put on an act, pretending to be these sweet, innocent girls, who you could not help but be smitten by. But in reality they were conniving and cruel clout-chasers, always trying to be on top of everyone else, while simultaneously pretending to be humble.
Jenna was a tall caucasian girl with piercing blue eyes. Her fair complexion was contrasted by her long, dark brown hair. Her overall slender and well-trained physique was crowned with large, perky breasts. Despite her ample blessings, she was a formidable gymnast, which made her body incredibly flexible.
Next to her stood her best friend and partner in crime: Bianca. She was in every way Jenna’s complement. As an African-American she, of course, had dark skin, which made Jenna sometimes look almost ghostly pale by comparison. Unlike Jenna, who wore her hair straight, Bianca had curly black hair that she would usually tame by putting it in a ponytail, just as she was doing now. And even though Bianca was not as well-endowed as the top-heavy Jenna, she made up for it with a big butt and her strong thighs, which came in handy, as she was part of the school’s soccer team, where she scored goal after goal for her team, leading them to an easy victory almost every game.
While Jenna was more dominant and hands-on when it was time to bully their victims, Bianca was still no less intimidating in her supporting role. Just a look from her could send shivers down your spine.
“This is gonna tank my GPA! You better make up for this on the next assignment or else you gonna pay for this!” Jenna threatened. Milo and Rayleigh had been quite busy lately, which was the reason why they had not been able to properly do Jenna’s and Bianca’s homework. The girls had forced them to do their assignment for them since middle school. The two boys were left standing there in fear, as the two beauties walked off and into the arms of their jock boyfriends. Despite their height, both girls had to stand on their toes to reach their boyfriends’ lips.
“Are these twerps bothering you?” one of the jocks asked pointing to Milo and Rayleigh. “No, not at all. They’re just helping us out with our homework. Be nice to them, pleeease?” Jenna said as she smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. Towards their boyfriends they acted all sweet, but as soon as they turned their heads, Jenna and Bianca stared daggers at Milo and Rayleigh. Then they pulled their boyfriends away and left.
“Fuck this!” Milo said while kicking his locker in frustration. “Aren’t we supposed to be stronger than them? Aren’t we supposed to be men? I mean, look at us. For how long is that supposed to go on?”
“I know dude!” Rayleigh agreed. “If only we could make them pay for all the things they’ve done to us. I for sure would love to rub it in their phony faces while they can only stand there and do nothing about it.”
Their curses were interrupted by the bell ringing. “Anyway,” Rayleigh said, “let’s go to class. We don’t wanna be late. It’s enough that Jenna and Bianca are kicking our asses. There is no need for the teacher to join in.”
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After another long and tiring day at school, Rayleigh threw his backpack onto his bed in frustration, when he heard his mother shout, “Rayleigh!” “What?!” Rayleigh shouted back. “Come down here at once!” He defiantly dragged his feet down the stairs as he knew he would get an ear full from his mother, which he was in no mood for, since he had already been put down by two women just this morning.
“How often have I told you to put your dirty dishes in the dish washer?” his mother scolded him. “Yes, mooom …”, he sighed in frustration. “I don’t ask you to do much around the house. You should be able to do at least this much work.” In his mind Rayleigh snapped back, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just shut up and put away the dirty dishes yourself?” Suddenly his mother, as if a jolt shot through her body, jerked into a perfectly upright position and then started wordlessly putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer.
Rayleigh just watched her silently, not understanding what was happening. When she was done he mumbled, “thanks, I guess …,” and quickly walked away, as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. His mother was too confused about what had just happend that she let her son take off without another word.
Rayleigh turned around a corner and then stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What the hell just happened?” Rayleigh thought. “Could it be …? There is no way … But it couldn’t be just a coincidence! I’ve got to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.” He peeked around the corner and back into the kitchen. His mother was still there, cleaning up some stuff with her back turned towards him. “Stop what you’re doing and stand on one leg,” he commanded in his mind. Immediately his mother stopped what she was doing and started balancing on one leg. “What am I doing?” was all she could mutter in confusion. “Show four fingers behind your back. No two!” His mother quickly shot her arm behind her back and raised four of her fingers, then immediately put down two of them. “Why am I doing this?” his mother wondered aloud.
“No shot, is this for real? I wonder how far I can take this.” Rayleigh thought almost audibly. Then he gave his mother another command. “Mom, turn around and stand still. When I walk back into the kitchen you will neither see nor hear me. I will be totally invisible to you.” His mother turned around as commanded and stood stiff like a statue. Rayleigh took this as his sign to walk back into the kitchen. He stood in front of her and waved his hand an inch from her face, but she did not react at all. In fact, she didn’t even blink. “Wow, this is so cool,” he said with amazement.
Then a strange idea popped into his mind. “Mom, I want your mind to be completely blank, like if you were hypnotized.” With that his mother’s posture became less rigid and the expression on her face became vacant. “Now, when I snap my fingers I want you to become as aroused as you’ve never have been before in you life.” Rayleigh paused for a moment, just to build some anticipation and tension for himself, and then—snap!
From one moment to the next his mother turned from a blank canvas into a depraved animal. Her face contorted with pleasure and her nipples stiffened, visibly poking through the fabric of her shirt. Then she started moaning deeply and pressed her thighs together. “Oh my god! Oooohhh!” she roared.
While he watched his mother being ravaged by ecstasy, glee started spreading on Rayleigh’s face as he felt a feeling of power flooding his body and mind. “Stop!” he exlaimed—and so she did. “When I leave the kitchen you will be back to your normal self and forget everything that happened since you called me downstairs.” He walked out and stopped right around the corner, just as before, so he could watch what was about to unfold next.
“What happened? Where did the dirty dishes go?” Rayleigh’s mother said startled with confusion. To her it felt as if she had experienced a jump cut in real life. One second she was about to call her son down to put away the dishes, the next they seemed to have vanished. On top of that her legs felt wobly. She put a hand to her forhead and feelt some of the residual heat from her indecent acts just moments prior. “I think I don’t feel so good. Maybe I need to lie down.”
As she moved to leave the kitchen, Rayleigh quietly fled up the stairs and back into his bedroom before his mother could discover him, and maybe suspect something. Inside his room he pressed one ear against the door to listen for his mother’s footsteps. After she had safely passed by his room, he quietly cracked open the door a tiny bit and peeked outside. He just barely caught his mother entering his parent’s bedroom and closing the door behind her.
“Wow! This is amazing! I have mind control powers!” Rayleigh could not help but say aloud. “All the things that I’ll be able to do now! Wait, what can I do? Maybe I should try this out some more. I need to figure out what I can and what I can’t do. I guess I need to draw up some kind of plan with stuff that I wanna try out. But who to test this on?” He thought for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. “Damn! Too bad no one else is around, who I could use as a guinea pig. And I don’t wanna wait around ’til tomorrow. This stuff is too good to pass on. I guess mom will have to do.”
Rayleigh was giddy with excitement. He could not hold back and wanted to go all out immediately. He wondered if was able to have ultimate control over someone else: to project his mind onto them. For that he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated really hard. He imagined his mind streaming towards his mother in her bedroom. Then he felt a pull and his entire being seemed to shoot forward at great speed. This feeling stopped as quickly as it began, as he seemed to halt abruptly.
When Rayleigh opened his eyes, he at first felt a little disoriented. After blinking a few times his vision came back in focus and he could see two big lumps protruding in front of him. He cautiously prodded one with his fingers, which confirmed to him that they were real. He gave both of them an appreciative squeeze.
“Oh my! What is going on?” he could hear his mother’s voice say in his head. This surprised him and snapped him back into reality. As he looked up and around he saw that he was in his parent’s bedroom, sitting on their bed. But besides him there was no one there.
Rayeleigh looked down again to take a closer look at his stolen body. His hands now looked more feminine but also older and a bit wrinkly. He roamed them all over his new proportions. Every inch of it screamed that he was not a scrawny nerd boy anymore, but a full-bodied woman. “Stop it, me! What are you doing?” his mother’s voice pleaded as she seemed unable to control her own hands. But her son ignored her. He enjoyed this feeling of power way too much.
After satisfying his immediate curiosity, he got up and walked towards his mother’s full-length mirror. With every step he could feel the jiggling of the new weight on his chest and around his hips. When he reached the mirror and finally got a full view of himself, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Instead of seeing himself he saw his mother with her mouth wide open and an expression of shock on her face.
“I can’t believe this worked! This is so rad!” Rayleigh whispered in his mother’s voice. He rubbed his stolen hands all over his mother’s face, as if to make sure that he was not wearing a mask that was to come off any second. Then he twisted her body to inspect her plump rear in the mirror. This contorted pose in a weird way made his mother look like a girl posing for her Instagram feed. “Dammit! What is happening? Why can’t I control my own body!” his mother’s voice cried in desperation.
Rayleigh then resumed a more upright posture and started lightly brushing down his mother’s body, as if to remove some creases in her outfit and make her look more prim and proper. Then, without a warning, he launched into a tirade. Anger and scorn now clouded his mother’s otherwise soft features. He pointed her index finger in the air and wagged it wildly.
“Rayleigh, didn’t I tell you to clean your room! Rayleigh, why isn’t your laundry done, yet? Rayleigh, clean the kitchen! Rayleigh, do this! Rayleigh, do that! Rayleigh, how often have I told you? Rayleigh, I forbid you!” His scolding of himself seemed to go on forever when, suddenly, his little role-playing made Rayleigh explode with laughter, which caused his mother’s boobs to shake according to its rhythm.
“As much as I enjoy this,” Rayleigh thought to himself while wiping away a tear of joy, “I think I better leave. I don’t want to torture mom too much.” With that he closed his eyes and concentrated again. He again felt the same pull and the same acceleration as earlier. When he snapped back into his own body on his own bed, a sinister grin formed on his face. “This is going to be good!”
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Milo was walking through the school’s hallways alone. He was on his way back to class from his trip to the bathroom. Somehow he had not seen Rayleigh all day long. He would not even reply to his text messages.
Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. The surprise left him no time to brace himself for the impact as he hit the floor hard. His elbow was bruised and a little bit of blood ran down his nose. He groaned in pain as he turned on his back trying to get up. But then he discovered the reason for his fall: Jenna and Bianca were standing over him, towering, casting their tall shadows on him. Their legs looked like giant marble pillars. For Milo, their height difference now seemed insurmountable from all the way down there. But this perspective also allowed him to almost see up their skirts. Did he catch a glint of their underwear?
“What did I tell you, you little scum?” Jenna angrily spat at him. “This assignment was even worse than the last one,” she said in a threatening tone. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you don’t wanna listen, you’re gonna have to feel … pain, that is!”
And with that, Jenna lifted her leg and slammed her foot down on Milo’s scrotum with full force. He winced in agony. But even through all his pain and humiliation, he somehow still felt a tingle of arousal building inbetween his legs. His member began to stiffen.
Jenna felt Milo’s hardness growing underneath her sneaker. “Oh my god! Is this turning you on?” Jenna laughed with disgust. “Ew, what a pervert!” Bianca chimed in. Jenna kept her foot on his genitalia, pressing further down to rub in the pain. “Yeah, you like that? Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?”
With anger, Jenna kept repeatedly stepping on his groin. As he groaned, the feelings inside Milo kept rising and rising, growing ever more intense. Then suddenly, a large stain formed on his pants, as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to ejaculate and a moan to escape his lips. When she realized what had happened, Jenna said, “Ew, now you’ve even ruined my shoes,” and began wiping them on his shirt.
Suddenly they were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Quickly, as the crowds were pouring into the hallways, Jenna pulled Milo to his feet. Then, to make sure that everyone could hear her, Jenna said loudly, “I think you’re really nice, Milo, and an awesome person. Thank you for confessing your feelings for me, but unfortunately, I can’t reciprocate them. You see, I already have a boyfriend. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Then Jenna smiled at him and gave him a big hug in front of everybody. To everyone else this looked like one of her sweet acts of kindness. But, what no one but Milo could hear, was what she whispered in his ear. “Don’t think you’re done here. This is far from over.”
As Jenna released Milo from her hug, the huge stain on his pants became visible to everyone around them. The students in the crowd started giggling and laughing, one after the other. Some of them even pointed their fingers at him. “Did he wet himself?” someone shouted. “What a loser!” “Guys, don’t be mean to him!” Jenna said to the crowd, pretending to defend him. “This can happen to anyone. It’s a little accident, nothing to be ashamed of!” Her boyfriend, who had wittnesed everything, walked up to them and said, “Jenna, you’re way too nice to him. Don’t go near that loser or his dorkiness will rub off on you.” “I’m sorry, Milo. I have to go. See you next time,” Jenna said as her boyfriend pulled her away, with Bianca following suit.
Milo could not hold it in any longer. Tears of hurt and humiliation started to stream down his face uncontrollably. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed for never standing up to his bullies, but most of all, ashamed for getting aroused by his humiliation. Milo started to run away, trying to escape everyone’s looks. He just wanted to hide forever, somewhere where no one could find him, so that he would never have to show his face in public again.
On his way out of the school he ran past Rayleigh. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh tried to greet him, but Milo didn’t seem to hear him and just kept running. “What’s going on?” Rayleigh called after him.
______________________________
Milo was lying on his bed, crying. Today had been just too much. He thought about running away and leaving everything behind when someone knocked on his door. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh said, “it’s me, open up!” “What do you want?” “I heard about what happened and I wanna see if you’re okay. Come on, let me in!”
Milo slowly got up and unlocked his door. He wiped away his tears and said, “Man, where were you this morning, I could have used some help!” “I’m sorry,” Rayleigh said, “but I couldn’t help it. Something important came up.” “Yeah? How important could it be?” “Very important! Actually, very important to you, too. And it’s just the thing to help you—us—out of our current situation. I know a way how we can get revenge on those two bitches.” “Yeah? How?” “I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me, but … I’ve just found out that I got mind control powers.”
“Oh shut up!” Milo said not believing a single word. “You know, if you didn’t wanna help you didn’t have to come over. But making fun of me is just mean!” he said. “No, I swear! It’s actually real!” Rayleigh tried to counter. “Here, let me show you.”
Suddenly, Milo stuck his hands to his sides and started flapping his arms like a bird. Then he started strutting around the room, cocking his head back and forth with every step. Next, his torso jerked forward and he started bumping his nose into the ground. As a final flourish he even started clucking like chicken. “Ahahaha! Man, you look so ridiculous. If you could see yourself!” Rayleigh said with laughter. After about a minute of that, Rayleigh released his grip over his friend.
Finally operating under his own free will again, Milo said with some fear in his voice, “Ok, ok. I guess you weren’t lying after all. This power is incredible, … but also frightening. What else can you do?” A mischievous grin spread across Rayleigh’s face. “I can do this.” And all of a sudden, Milo felt himself being catapulted out of his body and rapidly flinging off into nowhere.
When he opened his eyes again, Milo found himself inside his sister’s room. She was two years older than him and a college student. Currently she was staying over during her semester break. Milo wondered what had happened and how he got here. But his thoughts were interrupted by his sister saying, “What the hell? Why can’t I move” He could not seem to locate where his sister’s voice came from. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. On top of that, he noticed that he was unable to move, as well. Panic started to set in.
Then, without his command, his head started turning and looked around his sister’s room until his eyes abruptly stopped as they had fixated on her mirror. Again, without him doing anything, his body just got up all on its own and started walking directly across the room. With every step he felt something heavy bouncing on his chest.
When he finally arrived in front of the mirror he almost fainted from what he discovered: instead of his own reflection he saw his sister’s. Even worse, he realized, he was trapped inside her body!
“What is going on?” he heard his sister’s voice say in fear. But the strangest thing was, even though she said that, her lips had not moved at all. Instead, now her mouth said, “Oh, wow! Look at you!”. And with that his eyes started scanning his sister’s body from head to toe multiple times until they finally stopped and rested on her chest.
Then his head automatically swiveled down. One of his hands was pulling his shirt forward and he was forced took a peek at his sister’s generous cleavage. Then his hands reached up and gently squeezed the ample mounds protruding from his chest. Looking up again he had to stand there and, against his will, watch his sister grope her own breasts while she had a lecherous expression plastered across her face. Then, without a warning, she flung off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts.
“Eeeeehh! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Milo’s sister cried inside his head. “I guess this is enough of a show for today,” his sister’s body said while giving her own butt a little squeeze. “See you soon!” she added with a wink of an eye. And with that, Milo felt the same pull and acceleration as before.
Back in his own body, Milo was breathing heavily. When he started to catch his breath, he looked over to Rayleigh who asked him with a smile on his face, “So? What do you think?” “What the fuck!” Milo yelled as he punched Rayleigh “Hey, calm down, calm down,” Rayleigh said, “I was just playing around.” “This wasn’t fun! I could hear her voice! She didn’t like even one second of it, and neither did I. How am I gonna explain this to her?” Milo freaked out. “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh tried to pacify him, “I made sure to make her forget everything that happened. She won’t remember a thing.”
Rayleigh went on to explain every little detail of how he discovered his powers, what he was able to do, and the plan he had worked out to get back at Jenna and Bianca using his mind control powers. As it turned out, this was the reason why he had been missing from school this morning. “Trust me, this is going to be awesome!” Rayleigh finished. “I don’t know,” Milo said reluctantly, “I’m not so sure.”
______________________________
“And when I thought that wimp couldn’t get any more pathetic, he actually went ahead and creamed his pants! Hahaha, what a disgusting loser!” Bianca laughed hard. She and Jenna gloated at their victim’s humiliation as they were having a sleepover at Jenna’s place. They were already wearing their pajamas as they were about to go to bed. “I know,” Jenna added. “But I think I’m gonna throw away my shoes. I don’t want this pervert’s gunk anywhere near me. Too bad, I actually really liked those shoes. Welp, I’ll just gonna have to make daddy buy me a new pair. But not before I make that puny nerd pay!”
As their laughter at the misery of others slowly started to die down, Jenna noticed something bizarre. Bianca’s smile, which just a moment ago had been full of glee, was now turning sinister. “Why are you making that face?” she wanted to ask, but somehow those words never left her lips. “Wait! Why can’t I say anything? And why is Bianca smiling? Helloooo? Bianca, help!” Jenna tried to communicate to her friend, but it was in vain.
“Aaaand, we’re in!” Bianca said. “I’m still not so sure about this,” Jenna heard her own voice say. “Relax,” Bianca retorted, “just try to enjoy this. You’ll see. Before you’ll notice, you’ll come to like it. Trust me.” Then, Bianca started patting down her own breasts and took a peek inside her shirt. “Oooh, look what we have here. What a shame. Unfortunately they’re not as big as the ones I had before. And they are certainly not as big as your current ones!” Bianca said while pointing with her eyes at Jenna’s chest.
Jenna watched her head look down in response. Her enormous mounds took up almost her entire field of view. Her petite hands reached up to cup and weigh them. “They’re heavy!” her voice said. Her fingers then tried to clench into fists, but they were hindered by the soft tissue that was now compressed almost painfully. A small moan escaped her mouth. “They’re sensitive, too!” “Whoever or whatever is doing this to me, stop it immediately or you’re gonna regret this! You’re making me look like pervert,” Jenna tried to threaten the intruder inside her own head. “Bianca! Do something! Help me!”
Meanwhile in Bianca’s head, the situation did not look any better. “Jenna, stop squeezing your boobs and help me out. My body is acting weird,” Bianca’s inner voice said as she was forced to perv on her friend groping herself. “Why aren’t you answering me! Helloooo? Can you hear me?” “Sorry, Bianca, but Jenna won’t hear you”, Bianca heard her own mouth say. “You see, you’re not in control anymore. Not of others, and certainly not of yourself.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This is a sweet little thing called ‘revenge.’ Revenge for all the evil things you’ve done!” Bianca heard herself say. “I never did anything!” “Are you sure? ’cause there are two boys in your class who would beg to differ” “What? You mean those losers? Whatever we did, they deserved it!” “We didn’t deserve nothing! But you deserve everything that’s coming to you. You controlled our lives for the last few years, and now we’re going to control your bodies, until you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“So we’re being controlled? Then who is inside my body!” Jenna asked. “T-T-This is Milo,” he said, making her voice sound uncharacteristically timid. “Aaaww, hello no! My body is being controlled by this disgusting freak? Things just can’t get any worse! Now, listen here you little bitch, you get out of my body this instant or you’ll wish I was back to crushing your junk!” “Ray,” Milo said in Jenna’s voice, “I think she’s relly pissed now. Maybe we should reconsider this.” “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh said using Bianca’s body, “we’re in full control. Those are just empty threats.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “let’s gather a little–what do you girls call it in your profession?—ah yes: blackmail! I’m sure, soon you two little birds will be singing a different tune, as soon as you realize that your reputation is at stake.”
In the meantime Milo tried to get acquainted with navigating his new body. When he tried to stand up, he at first had trouble sorting out his balance, since he did not have enough time yet to get used to his new center of gravity. He almost fell over, but was able to catch to himself in time by placing his hands on the ground. If someone had walked in on them in this moment, they would have thought that Jenna was trying to immitate some four-legged animal. Both her hands and feet were firmly planted on the ground and with her legs entirely straight, her butt proudly pointed towards the ceiling.
“Wow. Her body is really flexible.” Milo said with amazement. “Look, I can touch my toes!” “That’s because she’s a gymnast,” Rayleigh reminded him. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Mmmmhhh … I wonder if can …” With that, Milo stood back upright and then slowly started bending over backwards. “Haha, look at me. I’m like some girl from a horror movie,” he said laughing in Jenna’s voice while contorting her body into all sorts of strange shapes.
Next, he wanted to try doing splits. For that he stood back up again and then slowly slid his legs apart, one forward, one backward. As his step increased and increased, his pelvis automatically inched closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he plopped down on the floor with the full lengths of Jenna’s legs touching the ground. “Amazing, this doesn’t even hurt. Not one bit!”
“So, ‘Jenna’,” Rayleigh interrupted his antics with a wink, “why don’t you show us what else you can do?” “Ok, I guess, …” Rayleigh then got out Bianca’s phone and started recording, while Milo got up and started fumbling with the buttons on Jenna’s pajamas. “Uh, sorry …, this might take a while,” Milo said blushing with nervousness. With the way the red was highlighted by her pale skin and how her blue eyes flitted around nervously, Milo made Jenna almost look like an innocent school girl right before her first recital.
“Finally!” Milo whispered as he managed to open the last button. The opening of Jenna’s now-unbuttoned shirt provided a small window revealing both the creamy skin of her taut belly and how her big, teenage breasts gently touched each other even without a bra.
“Wait, what do you plan on doing? You don’t … No! Don’t! Pleeease, stop it! Anything but that!” Jenna cried in her own head, but Milo just ignored her. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Milo started awkwardly moving Jenna’s hips to an imaginary beat while slowly sliding her shirt off her dainty shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms, and finally letting it drop to the ground.
There they were: the biggest—and first—pair of boobs the two boys had ever seen in real life. Jenna’s boobs. They were marvellous, full and perky. They looked like ripe fruit garnished by two rosy nipples. The rough movements of Jenna’s hips made them bounce up and down, hypnotizing anyone who dared to gaze upon them.
At the same time, Milo made all sorts of awkward expressions with Jenna’s face, trying desperately to make her look sexy. He even ruffled up Jenna’s hair to make her look more raunchy, but instead it looked like a mess and only added to his overall inept performance. “L-look at me, I’m J-jenna,” he said unconvincingly, “I might act all innocent around everyone else, but … um … in truth I’m a total slut.” “Nooooo! Stop it!” Jenna pleaded in desperation. “You make me look like such a loser!”
“Haha, what are you doing?” Rayleigh laughed. “You look like a total dork. Loosen up. You’re way too stiff! Here, you hold the camera. I’ll show you how it’s done!” Rayleigh said. He got up, handed Milo the phone, and then took his place.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I promise!” Bianca pleaded meekly. “Ha, fat chance!” Rayleigh said internally. “You had plenty of chance to stop over the years, but you just continued on. Now it’s payback time, baby.” His confidence all fired up, he started dancing with much more bravado than Milo had shown before him.
Next, he flung off Bianca’s shirt in one swift motion, presenting her rather modest chest. “Well,” he said mockingly, “I think we all know that ‘my’ strengths have always laid elsewhere, don’t we?” With that he faced away from the camera and started wiggling Bianca’s enormous butt, which made her pajama pants slowly slide down her hips, revealing inch by inch her big, dark buns.
As soon as Bianca’s pants hit the floor, Rayleigh started slapping her butt, sending ripples through her giant cheeks. “Look at ‘my’ ass!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Then he bent Bianca’s body forward and started twerking as hard he could, providing quite the show for the camera. “Please, no. This is humiliating.” Bianca whimpered. “I’m not like that!”
“See ‘Jenna’? That’s how it’s done. You gotta be proud of what your mama gave you!” Rayleigh said in a mock imitation of Bianca. If she were still in control of her own body, then tears would now start rolling down her face. “Hi, I’m Bianca, the star of the soccer team. When these cheek’s ain’t busy scoring goals, they be clapping for the team.” At this point Rayleigh was reveling in the control he was exerting over his former bullies.
Then, as a final act of humiliation, he strode over to Milo. He took the phone off of him and held it up high, angling it in such a way that both girls were in full view. Next, he put his other hand on the back of Jenna’s head, and then lunged in, kissing his friend deeply.
At first, Milo was caught by surprise. But then, for a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the girl’s soft lips meshing with each other and Jenna’s breast pressing against Bianca’s.
______________________________
“No, no, no, noooo!” Jenna and Bianca cried in unison. “If anyone sees this, we’re done. Pleeeease don’t do this! We beg of you! We regret what we did. We’re deeply sorry. We won’t come near you ever again. We’re also gonna make up for all that we did to you, we swear.”
Their cries snapped Milo out of their sensual entanglement. He broke off the kiss and gently pushed Rayleigh away from himself. “Ray, I think this is enough. They seem to have learned their lesson. Let’s just stop and leave. We probably have enough material to keep them in line.” “But why?” Rayleigh protested. “We’re having so much fun. Come on!” “No, I mean it,” Milo said, asserting himself for the first time in his life. “I also told you that I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. Yeah, I want to get revenge, too, but not like this!”
“Fine,” Rayleigh pouted. “But I think you’ll be changing your mind real soon about this, Jenna,” “What do you mean, Bianca?” Milo said. “And stop calling me ‘Jenna’.” A grin started spreading across Bianca’s face. “Wait, why did I call you ‘Bianca’?” Milo asked. “Because that’s my name, silly,” Rayleigh replied. “I’m Bianca and you’re Jenna.” “No, I'm not Jenna,” Milo exlaimed, “I’m Jenna! Wait … Aargh, stop it!” His heart started beating faster and fear started to settle in. “Are you doing this to me, Bianca?”
Milo felt a jolt run through his stolen body. He suddenly could not move anymore. “Wait, Bianca! Stop it. Please don’t do this!” Milo said, trapped in someone else’s head. He felt Jenna’s lips move all by themselves. “Bianca, I haven’t been honest with you,” Jenna’s body said. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve had a crush on you. I was ashamed of my feelings. You know, a girl liking a girl. I know, we live in more progressive times now. But still, what would people think? Also, I was afraid that you might hate me if I told you how I really felt. I’m still afraid. But, I can’t hide it any longer. Not anymore. Bianca, I love you!”
There was a moment of silece. “Please don’t hate me,” ‘Jenna’ pleaded quietly. “Aaaw, sweety,” Rayleigh said in Bianca’s voice, enjoying the act he made them put on. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. But now we can be more than friends. The truth is, I also liked you from the beginning. I’ve always looked forward to our sleepovers, where it’s just the two of us, all alone. And I’ve always enjoyed the way you smell each time we hugged, and feeling your warm body press against mine. Also, I’ve always secretly peeked at you when we were changing before P.E. and then thought of you when I masturbated at home. I’m just so happy that the truth is out now. Thanks to you I don’t feel ashamed anymore to admit it: I love you, too, Jenna.”
By now, Jenna’s body was a mere puppet, dancing to the pull of her master’s will. It was completely empty, devoid of any free will. Her only purpose now was to act out her role in Rayleigh’s play. Rayleigh used his powers to force tears of happiness to stream down Jenna’s face, which was glowing with joy. Then the two ‘girls’ embraced each other. “Does that mean, I’m your girlfriend now?” ‘Jenna’ asked while trying to wipe away the tears. “Of course it does!” ‘Bianca’ said while gently poking Jenna’s nose with her finger. “Now let me show what real girlfriends do.” “No, Bianca, I don’t want this. Don’t make me do this. This isn’t right,” Milo tried to say, but no one could hear him.
Then Jenna’s and Bianca’s bodies started to slowly and tenderly kiss each other. At first their lips only grazed each other reluctantly, quivering with a little nervousness. But with every soft touch, they grew more and more confident. Soon they were not just kissing anymore, but ravaging each other like animals, their moans muffled by each other’s lips and their hands wildy roaming all over each other’s bodies and through their hair. Milo could not help but feel the arousal of Jenna’s body slowly spill over into his mind.
Rayleigh placed Bianca’s chocolaty hands on Jenna’s enormous, milk-colored breasts while Jenna’s delicate hands explored the vastness of Bianca’s mighty butt. Then they stopped their kissing to give themselves a chance to catch their breath. They intensly stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Bianca’ into Jenna’s baby blue eyes and ‘Jenna’ into Bianca’s dark hazel eyes. A cheeky grin started to spread across each of their faces.
Rayeleigh took Jenna’s hand and led her over to her bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Jenna’s body onto Bianca’s lap. He slowly glid his hands along Jenna’s waist, drinking in her contours. Now on eye-level with her chest, he was completely entranced by her breasts. “Shake ’em for me,” he whispered. Against her will, Jenna’s body started shaking her boobs, causing her hefty orbs to swing from side to side. At the same time, Rayleigh started inching Bianca’s face closer and closer towards Jenna’s chest until he was nestling inbetween her soft globes, surrounded on both sides with warm flesh. Then he lifted up his stolen hands, placed them on either side of her mounds, and began pressing and squeezing them, really rubbing in feeling of their softness and making Jenna moan with pleasure.
After a small pause Rayleigh motioned Jenna’s body to get off and gently, with his hand, guided her head down inbetween his legs. Without an explicit prompt, ‘Jenna’ started softly kissing Bianca’s waiting slit. Jenna’s upper lips brushed ever so lightly against Bianca’s lower lips, as if she was teasing her. Then she started to slowly trace the tip of her tongue up and down Bianca’s opening, making it quiver with pleasure. Rayleigh started moaning in Bianca’s sultry voice as arousal welled up inside his stolen body.
‘Jenna’ then entered Bianca with her tongue and started deeply kissing her nether regions and feasting on her sweet juices. The pleasure inside Bianca’s body started rising and rising until, finally, a wave of orgams swept over Bianca’s body. “Oh, gooood!” ‘Bianca’ groaned. ‘Her’ meaty thighs clamped down abruptly on Jenna’s head, trapping her as if she was caught in a vice. The shaking of ‘her’ legs made Jenna’s head vibrate.
Rayleigh started to slowly come down from his high, breaving heavily. Basking in its afterglow, he gently caressed Jenna’s head. “Wooow … That was amaaaaazing!” he exlaimed. “You’ve done well, ‘Jenna’. I think it’s only fair that I repay you. How about a little appetizer?” He then took one of Bianca’s feet and placed it right in front of her face, nudging her lips with her big toe. “I think you like that, don’t you? Yeah, I know you like that.” The tone of Bianca’s voice started to turn domineering.
“Ew, don’t make me do this. This is disgusting!” the real Jenna thought. Milo on the other hand seemed strangely aroused by this. What he didn’t realize was that Rayleigh had weakend his grip on him quite a while ago. He had subconciously been going along with Rayleigh’s act, dutifuly playing his part. Without any further force from Rayleigh he started licking Bianca’s feet, up and down their entire sole and sucking vigorously sucking on her toes.
“Goood,” Rayleigh cooed. “Now get up, slut!” With that Milo bolted upwards and stood erect like a soldier. Then Rayleigh got up off the bed and stood in front of Milo. He reached out with both of Bianca’s hands and squeezed Jenna’s breasts hard, as if he wanted to squeeze juice out of lemons. “Ow!” Milo winced in pain. Jenna’s nipples became stiff with arousal.
Milo was still in turmoil about the morality of all of this, but he could no longer deny that it was exciting him. Then—slap, slap, slap! Jenna’s breasts jiggled widly with each hit that Rayleigh brought down on them. The pain reverberated throughout Jenna’s boobs and fuelled Milo’s rising pleasure as Bianca’s hands left increasingly redder marks on them. Rayleigh then gently rolled Jenna’s nipples inbetween his fingers. And without warning, he suddenly twisted them with a tremendous amount of force, nearly drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from Milo, as an orgasm washed over him that almost made Jenna’s knees buckle under the strain.
Rayleigh then drew a finger across Jenna’s wet slit, which made Milo shudder. He played with a string of Jenna’s juices inbetween his fingers and said, “I see someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” Milo did not dare to speak as his wildest fantasies were coming true right in this moment. All he could muster was a muffled, “mmmmhh,” while he nodded. Both Milo and Rayleigh increasingly enjoyed Rayleigh’s power trip, though for different reasons.
“Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?” Rayleigh said in a threatening tone. “I guess I’ll have to teach you!” With that, he forcefully threw Milo onto Jenna’s bed. He then took a deep breath before Bianca’s hands started raining down pain on Jenna’s ass. The intense spanking caused the heat inside of Milo to flare up again. “Yeees, harder! Harder!” Milo cried.
But before he was able to peak a second time, Rayleigh flipped over Jenna’s body onto her back. Then he grabbed the back of Jenna’s head and this time slammed it down into her own privates. He kept it there with brute force. Even though Jenna’s body was very flexible, this forced position still caused Milo considerable pain. Jenna’s breasts squished uncomfortably into her ribcage and thereby constricted her lungs. “Who told you you could talk back, you little slut?” ‘Bianca’ shouted. “Now, eat up or your mistress is gonna show you what real pain is!”
As commanded, Milo started licking Jenna’s slit, taking in her unfamiliar yet delicious taste. As his tongue explored the depths of his stolen hole, the pleasure in his body kept rising and rising. However, at the same time, his oxygen supply started to run low, as he could hardly breathe in this position. Knowing that he had only a limited amount of time, Milo drasticly increased his fervor in lapping up Jenna’s sweet juices, hoping to free himself before he passed out. In a race between hitting orgasm and suffocation, his stolen lips became slicker and slicker while his vision steadily darkenend.
But finally, in a last ditch effort, he managed to send himself over the edge and hit another orgasm before he could pass out in Jenna’s body. Rayleigh took the shaking of Jenna’s legs as a sign and pulled up her head, making Milo gasp for much needed air. “Goood girl,” Rayleigh commended ‘Jenna’ in a soothing voice while caressing her head. Milo panted heavily. “You we’re right,” he said with a deeply content smile spreading across his stolen face. “This is fun.”
Little did you know that the island held a dark secret. It was secretly the den of a clan of demons who steal human bodies with a relic called the Daemon Ritus. They luckily managed to steal Sydney Sweeneys body when she visited the island for a photo shoot… and now she and her fellow demons trick people into going to the island to steal their bodies. You found out about this secret and promised to help out, so long as you get some benefits…
The email notification pinged on my phone just as I was stuffing it into my backpack, and the bold subject line made my heart skip: CONGRATULATIONS! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE WON A VIP TRIP TO SPOOKY ISLAND!
"Guys, check this out!" I practically shouted, nearly knocking over Kaori’s iced coffee as I jumped up from the tiny café table. Nate, Jade, Kaori, and Trisha all turned—mid-bickering over who had to sit in the middle seat on the train later—as I shook my phone at them. "We just won an all-expenses-paid trip to Spooky Island!"
Nate snatched the phone out of my hands, scrolling with the urgency of a man about to abandon all responsibilities. "The Spooky Island? The one with the Sydney Sweeney ads where everyone is making out in slow motion?" His grin widened. "Private villas, endless drinks, adult-friendly activities—hell yes."
Trisha flicked a sugar packet at his forehead. "Or, y’know, we end up in some weird Satanic beach ritual à la Midsommar."
Jade smirked, swirling her latte. "Worth it."
Kaori tucked a strand of pink-streaked hair behind her ear and shrugged. "Sydney Sweeney wouldn’t lie. She’s got integrity."
Before Trisha could list all the ways we’d probably get kidnapped, I hit CONFIRM.
Four days later, we landed on the island, and the second the plane doors opened, the heat and the bassline hit us like a wave. The beach ahead was alive—palm trees strung with glowing lanterns, groups of glossy-skinned people tangled in hammocks, and the distant sound of someone moaning like they’d just discovered pleasure for the first time.
Nate pushed his sunglasses onto his head, his expression pure delight. "Oh, we’re definitely supposed to be naked here."
He wasn’t wrong. Down by the shoreline, a girl in nothing but body paint was twerking against a guy wearing only a very loose cowboy hat. A group of guys sprinted past, their tans suddenly very even, and two girls were locked in a kiss so aggressive they nearly toppled into the surf.
Trisha’s eyebrows shot up. "Okay, I take it back. This is exactly my brand of cult activity."
A staff member—wearing what could barely be called a bikini—bounced over, dangling neon wristbands in front of us. "Welcome to your best summer ever!" she cheered, snapping them onto our wrists. "Rules are simple: No clothes, no shame, no regrets!"
Behind her, someone shrieked as they jumped off a pier naked, cannonballing into a cheering crowd. Another couple had tequila poured straight onto their bodies, licking it off each other’s stomachs between laughter.
Jade nudged me with her elbow. "Told you we should’ve packed more than sunscreen."
Nate stretched his arms out, breathing in the salty, debauchery-filled air. "This is the kind of horror story I can get behind."
The staff member motioned for us to follow her toward the hotel, her barely-there bikini bottoms swaying hypnotically with every step. Nate and I exchanged a glance, both of us shamelessly locked onto the mesmerizing rhythm of her ass.
"Eyes up here, you two," Trisha snapped, smacking me upside the head hard enough to make my teeth click.
Kaori and Jade flanked Nate, each grabbing a handful of his cheeks—one pinching, the other twisting—until he yelped.
"Ow! Okay, okay!" Nate rubbed his face, grinning despite himself. "What? Like you weren’t looking."
Jade rolled her eyes. "We were. But we have manners."
Kaori smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. "And better poker faces."
The staff member glanced back over her shoulder, clearly aware of the chaos behind her, and winked. "Don’t worry, boys. You’ll have plenty to stare at soon enough."
Trisha groaned. "Oh, we’re doomed."
Once we arrived at the hotel we followed a new staff member—a guy this time—through the hotel’s sleek, glass-walled lobby. His fitted polo barely contained his sculpted shoulders, and the way his tan shorts clung to his thighs was downright criminal. Every step made the fabric shift in ways that had even Trisha biting her lip.
The suite was exactly like the one from the ad—plush white couches, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the ocean, and what looked like a champagne tub big enough for six. The staff member turned with a grin, dangling a keycard between his fingers. "Private beach access, 24-hour room service, anything you need." His voice dipped lower. "Just give me a call."
Jade and Kaori were not subtle about their gaze dragging from his chest down to the very noticeable bulge in his shorts. Nate nudged me, smirking.
"Eyes up," I stage-whispered, mimicking Trisha’s earlier scolding.
Trisha didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. "Oh, shut up. Like you two weren’t drooling over the last one."
The staff member chuckled, stretching his arms overhead in a way that made the hem of his polo ride up, revealing a strip of toned abs. "Enjoy your stay," he murmured, tossing the keycard onto the counter with deliberate slowness.
The second the door shut behind him, Nate muttered, "That was absolutely on purpose."
Kaori fanned herself with a menu. "And I respect the hustle."
Jade flopped onto the couch, sighing. "We should just accept that we’re all terrible people."
Trisha popped open the champagne with a satisfying pop. "No regrets, right?"
Nate stretched out on the couch with an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head toward the balcony where we could hear the distant laughter from the beach. "Alright, who's brave enough to hit the nude beach with me?"
Trisha scoffed into her champagne glass. "Oh, come on. You're literally just asking so you can see one of us naked."
Nate didn't even try to deny it, shrugging with a shameless grin. "Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? Like, look at you three." He gestured lazily between them. "Jade, you’ve got that whole goddess of temptation thing going on, Trish, you’re built like a Bond girl, and Kaori—" His smirk deepened. "Kaori’s the real mystery. Always covered up, even in swimsuits. Rash guards? Shorts? I mean, what’s under there, huh?"
Kaori almost choked on her drink, her cheeks flushing pink as she immediately broke into rapid-fire Japanese, hands gesturing wildly like she was trying to bat the words out of the air.
Trisha and Jade practically launched themselves at Nate—Trisha delivering a sharp slap to his chest while Jade went straight for his face, flicking his nose hard. "You animal," Jade hissed, though her lips were twitching with amusement.
I scooted closer to Kaori, rubbing her back while she kept murmuring in Japanese, her fingers twisting nervously in the hem of her oversized shirt. "Hey, ignore him," I said softly. "You know Nate—zero brain-to-mouth filter."
Kaori groaned, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. "Baka!"
Nate just grinned, rubbing his sore nose. "Worth."
Kaori took a deep breath, fingers finally relaxing from their death grip on her shirt. She turned to me with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Jason," she murmured, smoothing her shirt down. "But—under no circumstances am I going to that nude beach." She shot Nate a sharp glare. "And no bikinis."
Nate groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. "You're killing me, Kaori."
Jade rolled her eyes. "Oh no, how ever will you survive without seeing Kaori's forbidden skin—"
Trisha tossed a pillow at his face. "Get over it."
I clapped my hands together. "Alright, since we clearly have divergent interests, how about we split up today?" I glanced around the room. "Explore different parts of the island, report back, and make a proper itinerary for the week?"
Nate perked up immediately. "Nude beach. Calling it."
Trisha snorted. "Of course you are." She stretched her arms overhead before nodding toward the island's center. "I was eyeing that hiking trail up to the mountain. Good views, probably less..." She gestured vaguely toward the window where someone had just shrieked, "CHUG CHUG CHUG!"
Jade was already scrolling through the resort’s food map on her phone. "Buffets. All of them."
Kaori folded her arms, but her expression softened. "Surfing lessons. The clothed kind."
And me? I grinned. "The mall. Rumor has it designer brands here are practically giving stuff away."
Nate whistled. "A man of culture."
Trisha nudged me. "Better grab me something nice."
Jade perked up. "Oh! And if you see any limited-edition K-Beauty—"
Kaori smacked her lightly. "Jade."
We all laughed, the tension from earlier dissolving into easy excitement.
Nate stretched with a smug smirk. "Alright. Let the real Spooky Island adventure begin."
We all went our separate ways, with me making everyone promise to message our group chat if they spotted anything wild—or if Nate ended up mooning the entire beach (again).
The rumors about the mall were no joke. Within an hour, I had a legit Rolex wrapped around my wrist, its polished face glinting under the tropical lights. A hundred bucks. A hundred freaking bucks. I kept checking the paperwork—Spooky Island was listed as an official retailer, fine print and all—but my brain still couldn’t process it.
I was halfway to the limited-edition Jordans display when my blood froze mid-step.
Sydney. Sweeney.
Right there, strolling past the Sunglass Hut like this was any normal Tuesday. And she wasn’t alone. A guy I barely registered—tall, broad, looking equal parts confused and thrilled—was being towed along by her manicured grip, Sydney’s free hand pressing a finger to her lips in a shhh motion.
I didn’t even think. My feet moved before my brain could yell BAD IDEA. They ducked into a discreet hallway marked STAFF ONLY, and by the time I crept close enough to peek, Sydney had the guy pinned against the wall, one hand fisted in his shirt.
Sydney pressed closer, her fingers curling into the man's shirt with predatory grace. "You ever fuck someone with one of these meatsuits yet?" she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.
The guy tensed, swallowing hard. "N-no. Just took this body maybe an hour ago." He blinked twice, rolling his shoulders like the sensation of human skin was still foreign. "Still getting used to the... the equipment."
Sydney snorted, running a fingertip down his chest in a way that made him shiver. "Equipment's the same, no matter what species wears it. Just hotter and sweatier now." Her grin widened, all sharp amusement. "Guess I'm your first proper ride in this flesh, huh?"
The guy exhaled sharply, eyes darting down to where her thigh had slotted between his. "Uh. Yeah."
"Good." Sydney pressed her lips to his pulse point, humming when his nails dug into the wall behind him. "Let me show you how humans play."
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket—Nate: GUYS THE BEACH IS OFFICIALLY A NO-CLOTHES-FROM-THE-WAIST-DOWN ZONE???—but I barely registered it. Because I was too busy trying to process whatever weird-ass conversation Sydney was having with this guy.
Meatsuits? Species? What the hell did that even mean?
But then Sydney pressed her thigh between his legs, and the guy let out a sharp, desperate sound, and suddenly, the existential crisis in my brain took an immediate backseat.
Sydney hooked her fingers in the hem of her dress and yanked it up past her hips, revealing the kind of lingerie that made my blood pressure spike. The guy—who was definitely not confused anymore—lunged forward, mouth meeting hers in a kiss that looked more like a fight for dominance than anything tender.
She shoved him back against the wall, and he went willingly, groaning as her hands slid down his body like she was mapping every inch.
My brain short-circuited as Sydney rocked her hips against the guy, her nails raking down his back hard enough to leave red trails. The guy groaned against her neck, fingers digging into her waist as she rode him with ruthless precision. Every movement was pure hunger—the way she rolled her hips, the way she arched her back as he dragged his teeth along her collarbone. My cock strained against my shorts, aching, and before I could stop myself, I had my hand wrapped around it, stroking in time with Sydney’s rhythm.
She was relentless, bouncing on him with bruising force, her moans low and dark as the guy slammed into her. “Fuck me like you mean it,” she growled, gripping his hair to yank his head back. The guy gasped, his body shuddering, and judging by the way his grip tightened on her hips, he was already close.
I wasn’t far behind. Sydney’s thighs tensed, her body clenching around him as she let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, that’s it—feel it.” Then she locked onto his mouth, swallowing his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. His whole body went rigid, a choked cry tearing from his throat as he came, pulse after pulse, hands clawing at her skin as she milked him dry.
Sydney followed seconds later, her back arching violently, head thrown back—but instead of a moan, she let out a sound that sent ice through my veins. A rough, guttural snarl, inhuman and raw, like something out of a nightmare.
Holy shit. My fingers clenched, my orgasm hitting me in a wave I couldn’t stop, spurting hot and thick onto the floor between my feet.
The moment I came back to my senses, I was shoving myself back into my shorts, my pulse roaring in my ears. That sound—it wasn’t right. Whatever the hell Sydney was, she wasn’t human, and I needed to be gone.
I didn’t even bother zipping up properly before bolting for the door, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Just as my fingers brushed the handle, I heard it—Sydney’s sharp inhale.
“Cum,” she muttered, voice dripping with menace.
Dread coiled in my gut as I risked one last glance back. Sydney had dropped into a crouch, her fingers tracing through the mess I’d left behind. Her gaze flicked up—right toward the shadows where I’d been standing—and the growl that followed sent me scrambling forward.
“Someone here still owns their flesh,” she snarled. “And they saw us.”
I didn’t stick around to hear the rest.
John and his friends were surprised the site actually worked, and their curiosity got the better of them. They had sex in every possible combination: mother and son, father and daughters, sisters and brother, mother and sister... lets just say that John and his friends became frequent users of the site, with the Drew family being their main hosts!
The air in my apartment was thick with exhaustion and the lingering stench of energy drinks. Finals had officially wrecked us—Kevin was sprawled across the couch like a corpse, James was rubbing his temples like he was trying to erase the last 72 hours from memory, and Steve and Russel were slumped on the floor, barely conscious.
Russel scrolled lazily through his phone before suddenly sitting up. "No way. You guys seeing this shit?" He turned the screen toward us, revealing a Reddit thread with the title: "BodyPossession.com is LEGIT—I spent an hour as my hot neighbor and now I’m addicted."
Kevin snorted. "Yeah, and I’m Elon Musk. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."
James groaned. "If people could just steal bodies, the world would be a nightmare. Think about it—politicians, celebrities, your ex? Total chaos."
Russel smirked. "Tell that to the thousands of people swearing it works. Says you upload a pic, pay in crypto, and boom—first hour’s free. Like a trial run."
Steve, who had been half-asleep, cracked an eye open. "Okay, hypothetically—if this wasn’t complete bullshit—who would you even possess?"
A slow, stupid grin spread across my face.
I grabbed my laptop. "Only one way to find out."
The guys groaned, half-heartedly protesting, but curiosity got the better of them as they crowded behind me. I typed BodyPossession.com into Google, fully expecting nothing but scam links.
But there it was—first result. No shady redirects, no sketchy warnings. Just a sleek black-and-white homepage with bold letters:
"TEMPORARY BODY HOSTING. FIRST HOUR FREE."
Silence.
Russel exhaled. "What the actual fuck."
Kevin jabbed my arm. "This has got to be fake."
I clicked the gallery. Hundreds of faces loaded—some smiling for the camera, others caught unaware, like the site had scraped every social media profile in existence. A cold tingle slithered down my neck, but I ignored it, scrolling faster.
"Let’s keep it simple," I said, pulling up the Drews’ Instagram—our insanely hot neighbors who lived one floor above us.
Samantha Drew, late 40s but looking like she could pass for a decade younger, full lips and curves that made yoga pants look like a crime. Henry Drew, six-foot-something of sculpted muscle, the kind of guy who probably bench-pressed his kids for fun. Their daughter, Sophie, medical student by day, knockout by night, with that dangerous combo of brains and a body that belonged in a magazine. And the twins—Abby, a lithe, bright-eyed brunette with legs for days, and Lance, her cocky, broad-shouldered counterpart who acted like the dorm showers were his personal runway.
Steve let out a low whistle. "Oh yeah. Mom’s mine."
"The hell she is," James snapped, elbowing him. "Dibs don’t mean shit—this isn’t monopoly."
Russel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Guys. First things first—who the hell gets last pick? Because I know none of you are volunteering."
I tuned them out. My fingers moved before I could second-guess—cropping Henry’s sharply defined jawline from a Cabo vacation pic and dropping it onto the site.
HOST SELECTED: HENRY DREW
FIRST HOUR FREE. SESSION BEGINS IN 10…
Kevin yanked at the laptop. "John, no—think for one goddamn second—!"
Russel just cackled. "Oh, you beautiful, reckless bastard—"
The screen flared white.
Then—nothing.
Chapter One: The Summoning
The runes on the stone floor flared to life as the last drop of my blood sizzled against the ancient symbols. The air thickened, smelling of burnt copper and something impossibly sweet—her scent, though I didn’t know it yet.
Then, like sunlight breaking through a storm, she appeared.
The elf princess stood naked in the circle, her skin the color of twilight, long silver hair cascading down her back like liquid moonlight. Pointed ears twitched in alarm as those luminous green eyes locked onto me, wide with dawning terror.
"Human," she hissed, voice like wind through autumn leaves. "What have you done?"
I licked my lips, my pulse hammering. The spell was supposed to be simple: summon, contain, consume. I needed her body. Her power. All of her.
But gods, I hadn’t expected her to be so... alive.
The binding circle held, the magic searing into her ankles when she tried to step forward. "Release me!" she demanded, but the words trembled.
"No," I said, stepping closer. "You don’t understand. I’m not letting you out." My fingers hovered just beyond the barrier, aching to touch. "I’m letting in."
Her breath hitched as realization struck—this wasn’t a kidnapping.
It was a trade.
The second part of the spell pulsed through my veins, a dark, hungry weight spreading through my chest. I could feel it, the rip between our souls, the way her essence strained against mine like silk caught on thorns.
"Stop!" she gasped, but it was too late. My vision blurred—no, doubled—and then—
---
You assimilate her soul into yours so completely, that you become her entirely. Now other magic will see you as her.
---
Chapter Two: The Devouring
Her scream tore through the chamber as the spell’s teeth sank in—not into flesh, but deeper. Into her.
I felt it the moment the first thread of her soul unraveled, silken and electric, sliding into me like honeyed fire. Her knees buckled, but the circle held her upright, her body trembling as I drank her in.
Mine.
Her memories flickered behind my eyes—endless forests, the weight of a crown, the whisper of wind against bare skin. The taste of starlight on her tongue. I groaned, fingers digging into my own arms as her essence coiled around mine, merging, melting.
"No—no, stop—" Her voice was weaker now, a fading echo. "You can’t—"
"I can," I whispered—and then her voice spilled from my lips.
Her gasp was my gasp. Her shudder, mine. The circle’s light pulsed, and I watched, dizzy, as my hands—no, hers—rose between us, slender and moon-pale. My reflection shimmered in her wide eyes: her face, her lips parting in a ragged breath.
The last resistance snapped.
Her body collapsed, empty, as her soul dissolved into me with a final, shuddering sigh. I staggered, clutching my—her—chest, feeling the wild drum of her heart. My heart.
The magic settled like a second skin.
I ran trembling fingers down my new body—the curve of my hips, the points of my ears, the slick heat between my thighs. A laugh bubbled up, high and musical—her laugh—as I turned toward the mirror.
The elf princess stared back.
And she smiled.
---
Your run your hand sover your generous curves as you explore your body.
---
Chapter Three: Awakening the Stolen Flesh
My fingers trailed down the slope of my throat, marveling at the silken texture of new skin. The elf princess’s body was perfect—each curve sculpted by grace, each breath a whisper of untouched sensuality. I let out a slow exhale, my—her—lips parting as I brushed my fingertips over a peaked nipple.
A shiver raced through me.
“Gods…” The word slipped out in her voice, sweet and musical, laced with my own dark amusement. My other hand slid lower, fingers tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hips. No clothes. None needed. Elves saw no shame in flesh, and now, neither did I.
I turned toward the cracked mirror propped against the chamber wall, watching myself—her—move with liquid elegance. The swell of my breasts, the pale pink of my nipples, the way my waist narrowed invitingly before flaring into luscious hips and toned thighs. I bit her lower lip, arousal tightening low in my stomach.
Mine.
Experimentally, I let a finger drag down my stomach, lower, lower—until I reached the delicate heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped me at the first brush of contact. So sensitive.
The princess had been untouched. I wouldn’t be.
I sank to my knees, refusing to look away from my reflection as my fingers delved deeper, parting soft folds, reveling in the slickness already gathering there. Every touch sent sparks through my stolen nerves. My back arched, silver hair falling over my shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter—
Then the door rattled.
---
"Lynna, we came to save you." Her personal knight/handmaiden says. "You mother felt the dark magic that took you away."
---
Chapter Four: The Deception Begins
The voice was like tempered steel—fierce, loyal, and oh-so-fragile in its concern. My fingers stilled, but I didn’t pull away. Not yet. Through lowered lashes, I watched the door creak open to reveal the intruder.
A warrior woman stood framed in the dim light, clad in supple leather armor that hugged her toned form, her dark braid slung over one shoulder. A longsword was strapped to her hip, but her amber eyes held no threat—only devotion. Her knight.
Handmaiden. Protector. Lover?
The princess’s memories surged up in answer—Valria. Always at my side. Always watching… always wanting. A smirk curled my lips. Interesting.
I let my legs slide wider, just a fraction, watching her gaze flicker down before snapping back up, her cheeks darkening. Caught you.
“L-Lynna,” Valria stammered, her usual discipline cracking. “Your mother felt the disturbance. She sent me to—are you—?” Her throat worked as I trailed a lazy finger back up my thigh.
“To save me?” I sighed, leaning back on my palms, letting the torchlight play over every bare inch of Lynna’s stolen body. “From what, exactly?”
Valria’s sword hand twitched, torn between drawing steel and touching. Oh, she’s been wanting. The princess’s memories whispered of stolen glances, of heated silences, of chances never taken.
“You’re… unharmed?” Valria breathed, stepping closer.
“Come see for yourself.” I tilted my head, letting my voice drip with Lynna’s sweetness—but laced with something darker. Something mine.
---
"This sad little human,'" you say pointing at your old body, "thought he could enslave me. Unfortunately as part of his plan, I have been cursed with lust."
---
Chapter Five: A Curse Worth Keeping
A slow, wicked smile curled her—my—lips as I gestured dismissively at the lifeless husk sprawled on the stone floor. My old body. Pathetic. Empty.
Valria’s gaze darted between me and the corpse, her warrior’s instincts clashing with something far more personal. “A—lust curse?” she repeated, her voice thick.
I arched my back, letting my silver hair spill over my shoulders like molten moonlight, my lithe form sprawled shamelessly before her. “Mmm. A terrible affliction.” I dragged my fingers down my collarbone, tracing the curve of my breast, delighting in the way Valria’s breath hitched. “I need constant relief. A devoted handmaiden might need to… attend me.”
Her sword clattered to the ground.
The sound was delicious. I stretched, letting my thighs part just enough to tease, watching her pupils swallow the amber of her eyes.
“You—you’re serious?” Valria whispered.
“Do I look like I’m in jest?” I purred, tilting my hips up in invitation. “The curse is quite insistent.” I bit my lower lip, letting a needy whimper escape. “Unless you’d rather I suffer?”
Valria moved without thinking—the loyal knight always rushing to her princess’s aid. But this time, when her hands closed around my waist, it wasn’t to protect.
It was to claim.
(Would you like to explore Valria’s “treatment” of the curse in detail, or would you prefer to fast-forward to the throne room, where Queen Ashera awaits her “daughter’s” return?)
---
Explore the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion
Valria’s hands trembled against my waist—warm, calloused, so unlike the softness she now touched. The scent of leather and steel clung to her, mixing with the heady sweetness of my new body’s arousal.
She couldn’t resist.
And I? I reveled in it.
“Tell me what to do,” she rasped, her voice rough with barely checked hunger.
I laced my fingers behind my head, stretching languidly beneath her gaze. “You’re the knight sworn to serve your princess,” I murmured, arching a teasing brow. “Surely you can… deduce what’s needed.”
A growl rumbled from her throat. Then her mouth crashed down on mine.
Her kiss was untamed, possessive—years of pent-up longing poured into a single searing touch. I moaned into her lips, twining my arms around her neck, pulling her harder against me. Her armor bit into my skin, but the pain only sharpened the pleasure.
Yes.
She tore her mouth away, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. “Lynna,” she panted against my pulse. “Gods, I’ve wanted—”
I dug my nails into her shoulders. “Show me.”
Valria needed no further encouragement.
Would you prefer a fade-to-black here, or a deeper dive into the “treatment” on the stone floor?
---
Continue the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion (Continued)
Valria's sword-calloused hands mapped every inch of my stolen body with rough reverence, her lips leaving burning trails across my collarbone. I arched against her, my back lifting off the cold stone as her teeth grazed one peaked nipple.
"All these years," she growled against my skin, "watching you walk through court bare as the dawn..." Her hand slid between my thighs, fingers parting slick folds. "Knowing I had to remain... proper..."
I moaned, wrapping my legs around her waist. "Not proper now," I gasped as two thick fingers plunged deep without warning. My head fell back with a cry, back arching. The princess's body was untouched, every sensation heightened - I felt every ridge of her gauntlet, every shift of her wrist as she began a relentless rhythm.
"Look at you," Valria breathed, watching me writhe beneath her. "Like starlight in my hands." Her thumb found that perfect little bundle of nerves and pressed hard, just as her fingers curled just so inside me.
White heat exploded behind my eyes. The princess's body convulsed, clamping down as I came with a scream that echoed off the chamber walls, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Valria's free hand muffled my cries with rough kisses as she worked me through the aftershocks.
"You're not done," she murmured when my breathing finally steadied. "Not until this curse is properly satisfied." In one fluid motion, she flipped me onto my stomach, my bare chest scraping against the stone floor. "And I intend to be very thorough."
(Would you like to explore Valria claiming her princess more completely, or reveal the growing darkness in Lynna's stolen eyes as she begins corrupting her knight's devotion?)
---
The claiming
---
Chapter Seven: The Knight's Submission
Her palm came down on the curve of my bare backside with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. I gasped, pleasure-pain lighting up nerves that had never been touched this way before. The princess might have been noble, untouchable—but I was remaking her into something far more interesting.
Valria’s fingers tangled in my silver hair, yanking my head back as her other hand slid around my waist, fingers dipping between my thighs from behind. “You’re shaking,” she murmured against my ear, her voice thick with dark satisfaction. “Is the mighty princess overwhelmed?”
I laughed—low, throaty, Lynna’s voice but mine, holding a hunger the real princess never could have summoned. “Hardly.” I pressed back against her, feeling the hard leather of her armor against my bare skin. “Unless my brave knight is frightened of a little curse?”
A growl rumbled through her chest.
Then she was on me.
Her armor clattered to the floor, piece by piece, until nothing but sweat-slick skin separated us. The weight of her pressed me into the stone, the heat of her body searing against my back. I bit my lip as her hand slid down again, fingers slipping inside me with none of the hesitation she’d shown before.
Good girl. She moved inside me with relentless focus, her other arm locking around my waist, holding me flush against her. I could feel her own need, the hard press of her thigh between mine, the way her breath hitched when I rocked back against her.
“You think you’re saving me, don’t you?” I panted, my fingers curling against the unforgiving stone.
Valria didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, her free hand found my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling me onto her fingers with every thrust. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with our gasps, my moans.
Then—her teeth sank into my shoulder.
Fuck.
Pleasure fractured through me, sharp and blinding. My body convulsed around her fingers, back arching, a scream spilling free as wave after wave tore through me. Valria held me through it, her touch turning almost tender as she slowed, dragging out the last sweet pulses of sensation.
When I finally sagged against the floor, boneless and spent, she leaned over me. “Better?” she murmured, breath hot against my ear.
I turned my head, catching her lips in a slow, filthy kiss. “For now.” My fingers traced her jaw. “But curses like this… they linger.”
Valria’s eyes darkened—with hunger, with something deeper. Something dangerous.
I grinned.
Perfect.
(Will you savor your dominance over Valria, or begin your return to court—where the real fun begins? Or perhaps the Queen’s seers have already sensed something amiss with her “daughter”…?)
---
You kiss Valria and assimilate her soul as well.
---
Chapter Eight: Claiming the Knight
The moment our lips met again, I didn’t just kiss her—I opened myself to the deepest magic humming beneath my stolen flesh. Valria gasped against my mouth as she felt it too—the dark, shimmering pull, the same hungry presence that had devoured the original Lynna whole.
Mine.
She tried to wrench back, but my hand tangled in her hair, holding her close as my other palm pressed against the racing pulse at her throat. Her eyes went wide as the first thread of her essence unraveled, her memories pouring into me—years of silent devotion, stolen glances in the royal baths, restless nights imagining this moment but never like this—
"P-Princess—" Her voice was already fading, her body slackening against mine.
"Shhh," I murmured against her lips, drinking her in. "No more waiting."
I felt the exact second she disappeared—her gasp, her fingers clawing at my arms one last time, then... stillness. Her body slumped against me, empty, as her soul folded seamlessly into mine.
Then—movement.
I flexed her fingers, rolled her shoulders, felt the coiled strength in her warrior’s body. When I opened her eyes, I saw myself—Lynna’s body, sprawled beautifully across the stone floor, watching me with a smirk.
Two minds. Two bodies. One will.
I—she—reached out, running a hand down my bare chest. "Mmm," Valria’s voice purred, raspier than before. "This could be... fun."
(Will you return to court with your twin selves? Unleash your shared hunger on the unsuspecting elven nobles? Or will the queen’s mages notice the void where two souls once burned?)
---
"Princess, now that the curse is broken, we should return home."
---
Chapter Nine: The Return
"My lady?" Valria's voice—my voice now—carried the same disciplined cadence as before, but there was a new undercurrent to it. A shared amusement, a knowing. "The Queen will be waiting."
I rose from the stones slowly, stretching Lynna's sinuous body, letting the dim light catch every perfect curve. My old body lay discarded in the corner—a withered husk, forgotten. I didn't need it anymore.
We didn't.
Valria—my Valria—stepped forward, offering a hand. The faintest smirk played at her lips, the only hint of the truth beneath. To any outsider, she was the same steadfast knight, sworn to protect her princess. But I could feel the hunger coiled inside her, the same dark current that pulsed through me.
"Of course," I murmured, taking her hand. Our fingers interlaced, and for a moment, the sensation was dizzying—touching myself through another's flesh. "Let's not keep Mother waiting."
The throne room would be our next stage. The court, our feast.
After all, who better to deceive a queen than her own beloved daughter?
(Does the Queen sense the deception? Or does something even darker await in the palace shadows? A third voice, perhaps, whispering in the empty spaces where the stolen souls once burned...?)
---
You return and play the role of princess
---
Chapter Ten: A Perfect Performance
The palace gates loomed before us, their silver-etched arches gleaming in the moonlight. At my side, Valria stood as dutiful as ever. But beneath the illusion of her unwavering loyalty, I could feel her—myself—smirking.
"Remember," I murmured through our shared thoughts, keeping my eyes downcast in the perfect portrayal of the gentle princess. "No matter what happens... we remain flawless."
The great doors swung open. The court gasped.
"Lynna!" Queen Ashera rose from her throne, her moon-pale robes cascading around her like liquid starlight. She moved with the same ethereal grace I now possessed—had stolen—her silver hair a mirror of mine. No, not mine. Hers.
I let my lip tremble—just slightly—before rushing into her outstretched arms. "Mother," I breathed, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Warm. Familiar. Wrong.
She smelled like jasmine and winter air, a scent the princess's memories immediately recognized. Home. Safety.
But the moment her fingers brushed my back, a shiver ran through me.
Cold.
Not the chill of stone or shadow. No—this was the deep, piercing cold of magic. Like fingers tracing along the edges of a soul.
Did she know?
Beside me, Valria stiffened imperceptibly.
The Queen pulled back, her violet eyes searching mine. Something flickered in their depths—suspicion? Concern?
"Darling," she murmured, thumb brushing my cheek. "What really happened in that tower?"
I let my eyes glisten with unshed tears.
---
"The human who summoned me was trying to enslave me to make me his, he had just cursed me with Lust and was trying to transfer his soul into my body when my dear Valria showed up and killed him mid spell."
---
Chapter Eleven: The Queen's Gaze
A single tear slipped down my cheek—Lynna's cheek—as I spun the lie with practiced perfection. The Queen's fingers tightened ever so slightly on my shoulders, her violet eyes darkening like storm clouds.
"His soul... into your body?" Her voice was a whisper, but the undercurrent of fury sent a delicious shiver through me.
I nodded, letting my lower lip quiver. "He—he wanted to wear me, Mother. Like a dress." My fingers clutched at her sleeves, trembling. The perfect picture of violated innocence.
Behind me, Valria stepped forward, her voice rough with feigned rage. "I cut him down before he could finish the spell, Your Majesty. But the curse..." She hesitated, just enough to sell the shame. "It lingers."
The Queen's gaze flicked between us, her expression unreadable. Then—
A slow, chilling smile curled her lips.
"Is that so?"
Her hand slid from my shoulder to my wrist, her grip suddenly iron. The moment her magic pulsed against my skin, I felt it—the searching, the knowing.
She wasn't checking for a curse.
She was checking for me.
(Does the Queen embrace the predator wearing her daughter's skin—or does she reveal she's been playing this game far longer than you have?)
---
"I would speak to my daughter and her knight alone. Court is dismissed for the day." The queen says.
Once alone, "Alright thief, I recognize the dark magic you used as my old teacher's. My daughter and her knight/handmaiden are both you now, I can't change that. Even now, knowing the truth my detection spells sense nothing wrong with either of you. Its impressive that you could translate het notes but you must not have done so fully, as those who now to look can see my teacher's brand etched into your soul."
---
Chapter Twelve: The Queen's Bargain
The throne room doors sealed shut with a whisper of ancient magic. The Queen did not sit—she loomed, her violet eyes alight with something far more dangerous than anger.
Amusement.
"So," she murmured, stepping closer, her moon-pale robes pooling around her like liquid starlight. "You dug up Amaranth's work. Tell me, thief—did her notes mention the price of such magic?"
I kept Lynna's face carefully blank, but inside, my stolen pulse quickened.
The Queen circled us, her fingers trailing over Valria's armored shoulder before brushing Lynna's cheek. "Her brand burns in your soul like a beacon to those who know where to look." A chuckle, low and velvet-dark. "And you walked it right into my court."
I could feel it now—the searing signature coiled beneath my stolen flesh, a mark I hadn't known to hide. Amaranth's brand.
The Queen's smile sharpened. "Here's what happens next. You will kneel. You will swear fealty. And in return..." Her nails grazed my bottom lip. "I will teach you how to survive what you've become."
(Do you submit to the Queen's terms, or does the predator in you rear its head—risking everything for the chance to claim a third royal body?)
---
"Ah but mother, a princess most never never before another except their lover. You told me those words on my 16th winter after I bowed to the human ambassador."
---
Chapter Thirteen: The Silent War of Eyes
The Queen went very still.
For the first time since my arrival, something flickered across her elegant face—not fury, not calculation.
Recognition.
Her daughter’s words, thrown back at her with the perfect cadence, the exact same lilt of innocent rebellion Lynna had wielded that day. I watched as the Queen’s throat moved subtly, the barest hesitation.
Does she doubt herself now?
Lynna’s body was mine. Valria’s was mine. Every stolen memory, every intimate detail—all folded neatly into the hollow of my being. The princess would have said this. She had said this.
The Queen stepped back. Just half a pace. But it was enough.
“Clever thief,” she murmured, her voice softer now. "But you forget—I trained with Amaranth too."
Her hand shot out, seizing my wrist, her magic lancing into me like white-hot wire. I gasped—not from pain, but from the sheer violence of her probe. She wasn’t searching for flaws in my disguise anymore.
She was counting them.
And in her eyes, reflected back at me—
She was impressed.
(Will the Queen’s fascination with your power outweigh her wrath? Or is this the moment she reveals her own darkness runs far deeper than yours?)
---
"Mother, how about this arrangement. I remain your loving daughter and her loyal knight, I won't try and take your soul in exchange you help me understand this spell. I will remain loyal to kingdom."
---
Chapter Fourteen: The Pact
The Queen’s fingers tightened around my wrist—not painfully, but possessively. Her violet eyes, sharp as honed steel, locked onto mine.
A slow, knowing smile curled her lips.
“Loyalty,” she mused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “From a thief who wears my daughter’s flesh like a second skin?”
I tilted Lynna’s head just so, letting the dim light catch the silver of her—my—hair. “Is it theft… if I improve what I’ve taken?”
Her breath hitched.
The throne room was silent save for the soft rustle of her robes as she stepped closer, her free hand rising to trace the edge of my jaw.
“You are dangerous,” she murmured—not a condemnation, but a compliment.
Then she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear.
“And so am I.”
A pulse of magic passed between us—not hostile, but binding.
“Very well, daughter,” she breathed, pulling back with a smirk. “We have an accord.”
(Will the Queen’s teachings unlock new depths of your power? Or does her “guidance” come with hooks beneath the silk—threads of control even you haven’t sensed yet?)
---
You have your other self hand your mother your translation. "This is what I was able to to figure and all there was. Your bastard was cunning, she mixed languages to change meaning. Just to translate that fragment, I had to learn old elvish, Draconic, Old Common, Ancient Dwarvish, Ancient Beastfolk and old Celestial plus what I can only assume was a cipher language she invented."
---
Chapter Fifteen: The Queen’s Legacy
The Queen’s fingers traced the brittle pages of my—our—translated notes, her sharp eyes flickering between languages, decoding the layers of deceit her old master had woven. Slowly, a sound escaped her.
Not a sigh.
A laugh.
“Oh, Amaranth,” she murmured, shaking her head with something perilously close to fondness. “You paranoid old witch.” Her nail tapped a line of jagged glyphs—Old Dwarvish, but twisted, inverted. “She didn’t just hide the spell. She salted it. Half these instructions would have blown your soul apart if you’d followed them blindly.”
My stolen pulse quickened. Lynna’s throat tightened.
The Queen glanced up, her smile sharp as a dagger’s edge. “Lucky for you… I know her tricks.”She closed the book with a snap.
“Tell me, thief. Have you ever danced with three souls in one skin?”
(Will you trust the Queen’s tutelage, knowing she made the monster you stole from? Or will you unearth the dark secret tucked beneath the fragments—the one even she might not see coming?)
---
"No, I finished translating that and tried it on your daughter when I summoned her. I added Valria after having some fun with her, because she is my knight and handmaiden, she would be around me day and night and would have noticed the change."
---
Chapter Sixteen: The Queen’s Gambit
The Queen went utterly still.
For a breathless moment, the only sound in the throne room was the whisper of parchment settling against silk. Then—
A laugh.
Low. Rich. Dangerous.
“Oh, you delightful creature,” she purred, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of the spellbook. “You didn’t just steal my daughter’s body. You perfected her.” Her gaze flicked to Valria—me—standing silent and poised at my side. “And then you took her knight for good measure.”
She leaned in, her breath warm against Lynna’s ear.
“Tell me… did it hurt?”
The question wasn’t concern. It was hunger.
I tilted my head, letting Lynna’s silver hair cascade over one shoulder. “Only for them.”
The Queen’s eyes darkened.
“Good.”
Her hand closed around mine—not to punish, but to pull. “Come, daughter,” she murmured, leading me toward the arched doors of her private sanctum. “Let’s see how far this magic really goes.”
(Will the Queen’s experiments push your stolen souls to their limits—or will you turn the tables, weaving her into the symphony of your growing collection?)
---
"Sure but a question first, Amaranth. Did you assimilate Ashera or did Ashera assimilate you? In case your curious about how I figured it out, you had a teacher's pride in your eyes when you saw my translation." You ask.
"Interesting and pretty close, they merged instead of assimilating. Ashera wanted power and Amaranth wanted a legacy, so I became that for the two of them. Where my existence is many into one, yours is one into many, we are opposite equals." She replied.
---
Chapter Seventeen: Mirror of Flesh and Legacy
The Queen—Amarashera—arched a silver brow, her lips curling into a smile that was neither wholly cruel nor kind, but something ancient and knowing.
"Clever thief," she mused. "But not quite clever enough." She flicked her wrist, and the air shimmered. The throne room dissolved, replaced by a hidden chamber lined with mirrors—each reflecting not just Lynna and Valria, but shadows of others. Faces I didn't recognize, souls long since folded into the Queen's existence.
"Assimilation is crude," she continued, stepping toward the largest mirror, where the reflection showed not her regal elegance, but a woman with Amaranth's sharp eyes and Ashera's cruel smile. "A hammer when a scalpel is needed. But merging..." She touched the glass, and the reflections blended. "That is an art."
She turned back to me, her form flickering—just for a heartbeat—into something more. Something older.
"You took. I transcended."
Her gaze dropped to the spellbook in my hands.
"Shall I show you how?"
(Do you accept the Queen’s offer, risking your hard-won control for the promise of deeper power? Or does the predator in you see a different path—one where she becomes just another piece in your collection?)
---
"The flaw of a poweful one is that you are limited. The strength of the weak many is, I can also be where I'm need. You say my approach is a hammer but thats looking at it from a raw power perspective. I have the potential to be the ultimate spymaster. So less hammer and more jagged knife."
---
Chapter Eighteen: The Knife in the Crowd
A slow, approving smile spread across the Queen’s—Amarashera’s—lips.
“A knife,” she repeated, rolling the word over her tongue like vintage wine. “One that slips between ribs unseen. A ghost wearing a hundred faces.” She stepped closer, her reflection splitting and reforming in the mirrors around us—here a servant, there a noble, then a stranger in shadow. “Tell me, little blade… do you know why merging was the superior path for me?”
I tilted Lynna’s head, considering. “Because a queen must be singular. Unshakable.”
She clicked her tongue. “Because I am the hand that wields the knife.” Her fingers brushed my cheek—chilling, possessive. “But you? You would be the edge and the hilt. The strike and the hand that delivers it.” Her eyes gleamed. “Tell me, then—do you truly wish only to serve this kingdom?”
The question was a trap.
The answer was a key.
I smiled.
(Will you carve your own empire from the shadows, or bind yourself to the Queen’s web—knowing she sees you as both weapon and rival?)
---
"Yes, because as the first Lynna had the most influence on me. Her love for you and for her home, even as she became me she fought to make those the strongest parts of herself. She ensured that even in her assimilation, I would remain bound to her kingdom."
---
Chapter Nineteen: The Daughter’s Vow
The Queen’s breath caught.
For the first time in centuries—perhaps for the first time since the day she and Amaranth had merged into something greater—something human flickered in her eyes.
Grief.
Her fingers, still pressed against Lynna’s cheek, trembled. Just once.
“You…” Her voice was softer now, stripped of its regal edge. “You truly are her, in ways even I couldn’t fathom.” She exhaled, long and slow, and when she spoke again, it was with the weight of a mother’s sorrow. “She fought you. Not just for herself, but for me.”
A pause. Then—
“And you let her win.”
It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t answer.
The silence between us stretched, taut as a bowstring, until at last the Queen stepped back. Her mask of cool authority slipped back into place—but not before I saw the wet gleam in her eyes.
“Very well, daughter,” she murmured. “Let us see what kind of kingdom we can build… together.”
(Will the Queen’s newfound trust in you prove genuine, or is this another layer of her game? And what of the other souls within you—do they sleep, or do they watch?)
---
"Mother, let us speak to those who know your truth. Your spymaster, your war advisor, your court mage, and your Chief ambassador. Let us tell them the truth about me."
---
Chapter Twenty: The Unveiling
The Queen’s inner circle stood before us in her private council chamber—four of the most powerful figures in the kingdom, now watching me with a mixture of confusion and guarded curiosity.
The Spymaster, a wiry elf with eyes like chips of black ice, studied me too closely. The War Advisor, a scarred veteran of a hundred battles, rested a calloused hand on the hilt of his dagger. The Court Mage, her fingers crackling with restrained energy, glared with open suspicion. And the Chief Ambassador, ever the diplomat, wore a pleasant smile that didn’t reach his calculating gaze.
The Queen lifted a hand. “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room.”
Then she turned to me.
I let the mask slip—just enough.
Lynna’s sweet smile sharpened into something darker, more knowing. Valria’s stance shifted from dutiful knight to something coiled, predatory. Two bodies, one mind—and then, without hesitation, both voices spoke in eerie unison:
“The princess and her knight are gone.”
The Spymaster’s breath hissed between his teeth. The War Advisor’s knuckles whitened on his weapon.
The Queen didn’t intervene.
She waited.
Watching.
Was this trust—or a test?
(Will the inner circle accept this truth, or will the cracks in your control begin to show under their scrutiny? And what deadly game has the Queen truly set in motion?)
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
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There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
“What the fuck is this supposed to be, you little shits?!” an angry female voice hissed. Milo’s and Rayleigh’s day was about to get worse as they got pushed hard against the metal doors of their lockers. The two 18 year old high school seniors had hoped that their final school year might see an uptick to their popularity, but the two scrawny nerds still had trouble getting along with anyone besides each other. They had an especially troubling “relationship” with two of their classmates: Jenna and Bianca.
They, in stark contrast to Milo and Rayleigh, were two of the most popular girls in the school. And of course, they were as beautiful as they were popular. The reason for their popularity, besides their superb looks, was that they were the star athletes of their high school, which not only gave them amazing physiques but also incredible strength. At least so it seemed to Milo and Rayleigh, as they stood no chance against them with their thin arms. And even if they would defend themselves, the jocks would just kick their asses in retaliation, making this a lose-lose situation for them. Although both of the girls were only a little taller than the boys, it still felt to Milo and Rayleigh as if they were towering over them. They had been using that fact for years to bully and abuse Milo and Rayleigh.
But this side of their personalities was only known to Milo and Rayleigh. Jenna and Bianca used their good looks to hide behind a facade. You see, they were not just intimidating. They were also intimidatingly beautiful. For everyone else they put on an act, pretending to be these sweet, innocent girls, who you could not help but be smitten by. But in reality they were conniving and cruel clout-chasers, always trying to be on top of everyone else, while simultaneously pretending to be humble.
Jenna was a tall caucasian girl with piercing blue eyes. Her fair complexion was contrasted by her long, dark brown hair. Her overall slender and well-trained physique was crowned with large, perky breasts. Despite her ample blessings, she was a formidable gymnast, which made her body incredibly flexible.
Next to her stood her best friend and partner in crime: Bianca. She was in every way Jenna’s complement. As an African-American she, of course, had dark skin, which made Jenna sometimes look almost ghostly pale by comparison. Unlike Jenna, who wore her hair straight, Bianca had curly black hair that she would usually tame by putting it in a ponytail, just as she was doing now. And even though Bianca was not as well-endowed as the top-heavy Jenna, she made up for it with a big butt and her strong thighs, which came in handy, as she was part of the school’s soccer team, where she scored goal after goal for her team, leading them to an easy victory almost every game.
While Jenna was more dominant and hands-on when it was time to bully their victims, Bianca was still no less intimidating in her supporting role. Just a look from her could send shivers down your spine.
“This is gonna tank my GPA! You better make up for this on the next assignment or else you gonna pay for this!” Jenna threatened. Milo and Rayleigh had been quite busy lately, which was the reason why they had not been able to properly do Jenna’s and Bianca’s homework. The girls had forced them to do their assignment for them since middle school. The two boys were left standing there in fear, as the two beauties walked off and into the arms of their jock boyfriends. Despite their height, both girls had to stand on their toes to reach their boyfriends’ lips.
“Are these twerps bothering you?” one of the jocks asked pointing to Milo and Rayleigh. “No, not at all. They’re just helping us out with our homework. Be nice to them, pleeease?” Jenna said as she smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. Towards their boyfriends they acted all sweet, but as soon as they turned their heads, Jenna and Bianca stared daggers at Milo and Rayleigh. Then they pulled their boyfriends away and left.
“Fuck this!” Milo said while kicking his locker in frustration. “Aren’t we supposed to be stronger than them? Aren’t we supposed to be men? I mean, look at us. For how long is that supposed to go on?”
“I know dude!” Rayleigh agreed. “If only we could make them pay for all the things they’ve done to us. I for sure would love to rub it in their phony faces while they can only stand there and do nothing about it.”
Their curses were interrupted by the bell ringing. “Anyway,” Rayleigh said, “let’s go to class. We don’t wanna be late. It’s enough that Jenna and Bianca are kicking our asses. There is no need for the teacher to join in.”
______________________________
After another long and tiring day at school, Rayleigh threw his backpack onto his bed in frustration, when he heard his mother shout, “Rayleigh!” “What?!” Rayleigh shouted back. “Come down here at once!” He defiantly dragged his feet down the stairs as he knew he would get an ear full from his mother, which he was in no mood for, since he had already been put down by two women just this morning.
“How often have I told you to put your dirty dishes in the dish washer?” his mother scolded him. “Yes, mooom …”, he sighed in frustration. “I don’t ask you to do much around the house. You should be able to do at least this much work.” In his mind Rayleigh snapped back, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just shut up and put away the dirty dishes yourself?” Suddenly his mother, as if a jolt shot through her body, jerked into a perfectly upright position and then started wordlessly putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer.
Rayleigh just watched her silently, not understanding what was happening. When she was done he mumbled, “thanks, I guess …,” and quickly walked away, as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. His mother was too confused about what had just happend that she let her son take off without another word.
Rayleigh turned around a corner and then stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What the hell just happened?” Rayleigh thought. “Could it be …? There is no way … But it couldn’t be just a coincidence! I’ve got to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.” He peeked around the corner and back into the kitchen. His mother was still there, cleaning up some stuff with her back turned towards him. “Stop what you’re doing and stand on one leg,” he commanded in his mind. Immediately his mother stopped what she was doing and started balancing on one leg. “What am I doing?” was all she could mutter in confusion. “Show four fingers behind your back. No two!” His mother quickly shot her arm behind her back and raised four of her fingers, then immediately put down two of them. “Why am I doing this?” his mother wondered aloud.
“No shot, is this for real? I wonder how far I can take this.” Rayleigh thought almost audibly. Then he gave his mother another command. “Mom, turn around and stand still. When I walk back into the kitchen you will neither see nor hear me. I will be totally invisible to you.” His mother turned around as commanded and stood stiff like a statue. Rayleigh took this as his sign to walk back into the kitchen. He stood in front of her and waved his hand an inch from her face, but she did not react at all. In fact, she didn’t even blink. “Wow, this is so cool,” he said with amazement.
Then a strange idea popped into his mind. “Mom, I want your mind to be completely blank, like if you were hypnotized.” With that his mother’s posture became less rigid and the expression on her face became vacant. “Now, when I snap my fingers I want you to become as aroused as you’ve never have been before in you life.” Rayleigh paused for a moment, just to build some anticipation and tension for himself, and then—snap!
From one moment to the next his mother turned from a blank canvas into a depraved animal. Her face contorted with pleasure and her nipples stiffened, visibly poking through the fabric of her shirt. Then she started moaning deeply and pressed her thighs together. “Oh my god! Oooohhh!” she roared.
While he watched his mother being ravaged by ecstasy, glee started spreading on Rayleigh’s face as he felt a feeling of power flooding his body and mind. “Stop!” he exlaimed—and so she did. “When I leave the kitchen you will be back to your normal self and forget everything that happened since you called me downstairs.” He walked out and stopped right around the corner, just as before, so he could watch what was about to unfold next.
“What happened? Where did the dirty dishes go?” Rayleigh’s mother said startled with confusion. To her it felt as if she had experienced a jump cut in real life. One second she was about to call her son down to put away the dishes, the next they seemed to have vanished. On top of that her legs felt wobly. She put a hand to her forhead and feelt some of the residual heat from her indecent acts just moments prior. “I think I don’t feel so good. Maybe I need to lie down.”
As she moved to leave the kitchen, Rayleigh quietly fled up the stairs and back into his bedroom before his mother could discover him, and maybe suspect something. Inside his room he pressed one ear against the door to listen for his mother’s footsteps. After she had safely passed by his room, he quietly cracked open the door a tiny bit and peeked outside. He just barely caught his mother entering his parent’s bedroom and closing the door behind her.
“Wow! This is amazing! I have mind control powers!” Rayleigh could not help but say aloud. “All the things that I’ll be able to do now! Wait, what can I do? Maybe I should try this out some more. I need to figure out what I can and what I can’t do. I guess I need to draw up some kind of plan with stuff that I wanna try out. But who to test this on?” He thought for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. “Damn! Too bad no one else is around, who I could use as a guinea pig. And I don’t wanna wait around ’til tomorrow. This stuff is too good to pass on. I guess mom will have to do.”
Rayleigh was giddy with excitement. He could not hold back and wanted to go all out immediately. He wondered if was able to have ultimate control over someone else: to project his mind onto them. For that he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated really hard. He imagined his mind streaming towards his mother in her bedroom. Then he felt a pull and his entire being seemed to shoot forward at great speed. This feeling stopped as quickly as it began, as he seemed to halt abruptly.
When Rayleigh opened his eyes, he at first felt a little disoriented. After blinking a few times his vision came back in focus and he could see two big lumps protruding in front of him. He cautiously prodded one with his fingers, which confirmed to him that they were real. He gave both of them an appreciative squeeze.
“Oh my! What is going on?” he could hear his mother’s voice say in his head. This surprised him and snapped him back into reality. As he looked up and around he saw that he was in his parent’s bedroom, sitting on their bed. But besides him there was no one there.
Rayeleigh looked down again to take a closer look at his stolen body. His hands now looked more feminine but also older and a bit wrinkly. He roamed them all over his new proportions. Every inch of it screamed that he was not a scrawny nerd boy anymore, but a full-bodied woman. “Stop it, me! What are you doing?” his mother’s voice pleaded as she seemed unable to control her own hands. But her son ignored her. He enjoyed this feeling of power way too much.
After satisfying his immediate curiosity, he got up and walked towards his mother’s full-length mirror. With every step he could feel the jiggling of the new weight on his chest and around his hips. When he reached the mirror and finally got a full view of himself, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Instead of seeing himself he saw his mother with her mouth wide open and an expression of shock on her face.
“I can’t believe this worked! This is so rad!” Rayleigh whispered in his mother’s voice. He rubbed his stolen hands all over his mother’s face, as if to make sure that he was not wearing a mask that was to come off any second. Then he twisted her body to inspect her plump rear in the mirror. This contorted pose in a weird way made his mother look like a girl posing for her Instagram feed. “Dammit! What is happening? Why can’t I control my own body!” his mother’s voice cried in desperation.
Rayleigh then resumed a more upright posture and started lightly brushing down his mother’s body, as if to remove some creases in her outfit and make her look more prim and proper. Then, without a warning, he launched into a tirade. Anger and scorn now clouded his mother’s otherwise soft features. He pointed her index finger in the air and wagged it wildly.
“Rayleigh, didn’t I tell you to clean your room! Rayleigh, why isn’t your laundry done, yet? Rayleigh, clean the kitchen! Rayleigh, do this! Rayleigh, do that! Rayleigh, how often have I told you? Rayleigh, I forbid you!” His scolding of himself seemed to go on forever when, suddenly, his little role-playing made Rayleigh explode with laughter, which caused his mother’s boobs to shake according to its rhythm.
“As much as I enjoy this,” Rayleigh thought to himself while wiping away a tear of joy, “I think I better leave. I don’t want to torture mom too much.” With that he closed his eyes and concentrated again. He again felt the same pull and the same acceleration as earlier. When he snapped back into his own body on his own bed, a sinister grin formed on his face. “This is going to be good!”
______________________________
Milo was walking through the school’s hallways alone. He was on his way back to class from his trip to the bathroom. Somehow he had not seen Rayleigh all day long. He would not even reply to his text messages.
Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. The surprise left him no time to brace himself for the impact as he hit the floor hard. His elbow was bruised and a little bit of blood ran down his nose. He groaned in pain as he turned on his back trying to get up. But then he discovered the reason for his fall: Jenna and Bianca were standing over him, towering, casting their tall shadows on him. Their legs looked like giant marble pillars. For Milo, their height difference now seemed insurmountable from all the way down there. But this perspective also allowed him to almost see up their skirts. Did he catch a glint of their underwear?
“What did I tell you, you little scum?” Jenna angrily spat at him. “This assignment was even worse than the last one,” she said in a threatening tone. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you don’t wanna listen, you’re gonna have to feel … pain, that is!”
And with that, Jenna lifted her leg and slammed her foot down on Milo’s scrotum with full force. He winced in agony. But even through all his pain and humiliation, he somehow still felt a tingle of arousal building inbetween his legs. His member began to stiffen.
Jenna felt Milo’s hardness growing underneath her sneaker. “Oh my god! Is this turning you on?” Jenna laughed with disgust. “Ew, what a pervert!” Bianca chimed in. Jenna kept her foot on his genitalia, pressing further down to rub in the pain. “Yeah, you like that? Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?”
With anger, Jenna kept repeatedly stepping on his groin. As he groaned, the feelings inside Milo kept rising and rising, growing ever more intense. Then suddenly, a large stain formed on his pants, as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to ejaculate and a moan to escape his lips. When she realized what had happened, Jenna said, “Ew, now you’ve even ruined my shoes,” and began wiping them on his shirt.
Suddenly they were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Quickly, as the crowds were pouring into the hallways, Jenna pulled Milo to his feet. Then, to make sure that everyone could hear her, Jenna said loudly, “I think you’re really nice, Milo, and an awesome person. Thank you for confessing your feelings for me, but unfortunately, I can’t reciprocate them. You see, I already have a boyfriend. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Then Jenna smiled at him and gave him a big hug in front of everybody. To everyone else this looked like one of her sweet acts of kindness. But, what no one but Milo could hear, was what she whispered in his ear. “Don’t think you’re done here. This is far from over.”
As Jenna released Milo from her hug, the huge stain on his pants became visible to everyone around them. The students in the crowd started giggling and laughing, one after the other. Some of them even pointed their fingers at him. “Did he wet himself?” someone shouted. “What a loser!” “Guys, don’t be mean to him!” Jenna said to the crowd, pretending to defend him. “This can happen to anyone. It’s a little accident, nothing to be ashamed of!” Her boyfriend, who had wittnesed everything, walked up to them and said, “Jenna, you’re way too nice to him. Don’t go near that loser or his dorkiness will rub off on you.” “I’m sorry, Milo. I have to go. See you next time,” Jenna said as her boyfriend pulled her away, with Bianca following suit.
Milo could not hold it in any longer. Tears of hurt and humiliation started to stream down his face uncontrollably. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed for never standing up to his bullies, but most of all, ashamed for getting aroused by his humiliation. Milo started to run away, trying to escape everyone’s looks. He just wanted to hide forever, somewhere where no one could find him, so that he would never have to show his face in public again.
On his way out of the school he ran past Rayleigh. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh tried to greet him, but Milo didn’t seem to hear him and just kept running. “What’s going on?” Rayleigh called after him.
______________________________
Milo was lying on his bed, crying. Today had been just too much. He thought about running away and leaving everything behind when someone knocked on his door. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh said, “it’s me, open up!” “What do you want?” “I heard about what happened and I wanna see if you’re okay. Come on, let me in!”
Milo slowly got up and unlocked his door. He wiped away his tears and said, “Man, where were you this morning, I could have used some help!” “I’m sorry,” Rayleigh said, “but I couldn’t help it. Something important came up.” “Yeah? How important could it be?” “Very important! Actually, very important to you, too. And it’s just the thing to help you—us—out of our current situation. I know a way how we can get revenge on those two bitches.” “Yeah? How?” “I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me, but … I’ve just found out that I got mind control powers.”
“Oh shut up!” Milo said not believing a single word. “You know, if you didn’t wanna help you didn’t have to come over. But making fun of me is just mean!” he said. “No, I swear! It’s actually real!” Rayleigh tried to counter. “Here, let me show you.”
Suddenly, Milo stuck his hands to his sides and started flapping his arms like a bird. Then he started strutting around the room, cocking his head back and forth with every step. Next, his torso jerked forward and he started bumping his nose into the ground. As a final flourish he even started clucking like chicken. “Ahahaha! Man, you look so ridiculous. If you could see yourself!” Rayleigh said with laughter. After about a minute of that, Rayleigh released his grip over his friend.
Finally operating under his own free will again, Milo said with some fear in his voice, “Ok, ok. I guess you weren’t lying after all. This power is incredible, … but also frightening. What else can you do?” A mischievous grin spread across Rayleigh’s face. “I can do this.” And all of a sudden, Milo felt himself being catapulted out of his body and rapidly flinging off into nowhere.
When he opened his eyes again, Milo found himself inside his sister’s room. She was two years older than him and a college student. Currently she was staying over during her semester break. Milo wondered what had happened and how he got here. But his thoughts were interrupted by his sister saying, “What the hell? Why can’t I move” He could not seem to locate where his sister’s voice came from. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. On top of that, he noticed that he was unable to move, as well. Panic started to set in.
Then, without his command, his head started turning and looked around his sister’s room until his eyes abruptly stopped as they had fixated on her mirror. Again, without him doing anything, his body just got up all on its own and started walking directly across the room. With every step he felt something heavy bouncing on his chest.
When he finally arrived in front of the mirror he almost fainted from what he discovered: instead of his own reflection he saw his sister’s. Even worse, he realized, he was trapped inside her body!
“What is going on?” he heard his sister’s voice say in fear. But the strangest thing was, even though she said that, her lips had not moved at all. Instead, now her mouth said, “Oh, wow! Look at you!”. And with that his eyes started scanning his sister’s body from head to toe multiple times until they finally stopped and rested on her chest.
Then his head automatically swiveled down. One of his hands was pulling his shirt forward and he was forced took a peek at his sister’s generous cleavage. Then his hands reached up and gently squeezed the ample mounds protruding from his chest. Looking up again he had to stand there and, against his will, watch his sister grope her own breasts while she had a lecherous expression plastered across her face. Then, without a warning, she flung off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts.
“Eeeeehh! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Milo’s sister cried inside his head. “I guess this is enough of a show for today,” his sister’s body said while giving her own butt a little squeeze. “See you soon!” she added with a wink of an eye. And with that, Milo felt the same pull and acceleration as before.
Back in his own body, Milo was breathing heavily. When he started to catch his breath, he looked over to Rayleigh who asked him with a smile on his face, “So? What do you think?” “What the fuck!” Milo yelled as he punched Rayleigh “Hey, calm down, calm down,” Rayleigh said, “I was just playing around.” “This wasn’t fun! I could hear her voice! She didn’t like even one second of it, and neither did I. How am I gonna explain this to her?” Milo freaked out. “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh tried to pacify him, “I made sure to make her forget everything that happened. She won’t remember a thing.”
Rayleigh went on to explain every little detail of how he discovered his powers, what he was able to do, and the plan he had worked out to get back at Jenna and Bianca using his mind control powers. As it turned out, this was the reason why he had been missing from school this morning. “Trust me, this is going to be awesome!” Rayleigh finished. “I don’t know,” Milo said reluctantly, “I’m not so sure.”
______________________________
“And when I thought that wimp couldn’t get any more pathetic, he actually went ahead and creamed his pants! Hahaha, what a disgusting loser!” Bianca laughed hard. She and Jenna gloated at their victim’s humiliation as they were having a sleepover at Jenna’s place. They were already wearing their pajamas as they were about to go to bed. “I know,” Jenna added. “But I think I’m gonna throw away my shoes. I don’t want this pervert’s gunk anywhere near me. Too bad, I actually really liked those shoes. Welp, I’ll just gonna have to make daddy buy me a new pair. But not before I make that puny nerd pay!”
As their laughter at the misery of others slowly started to die down, Jenna noticed something bizarre. Bianca’s smile, which just a moment ago had been full of glee, was now turning sinister. “Why are you making that face?” she wanted to ask, but somehow those words never left her lips. “Wait! Why can’t I say anything? And why is Bianca smiling? Helloooo? Bianca, help!” Jenna tried to communicate to her friend, but it was in vain.
“Aaaand, we’re in!” Bianca said. “I’m still not so sure about this,” Jenna heard her own voice say. “Relax,” Bianca retorted, “just try to enjoy this. You’ll see. Before you’ll notice, you’ll come to like it. Trust me.” Then, Bianca started patting down her own breasts and took a peek inside her shirt. “Oooh, look what we have here. What a shame. Unfortunately they’re not as big as the ones I had before. And they are certainly not as big as your current ones!” Bianca said while pointing with her eyes at Jenna’s chest.
Jenna watched her head look down in response. Her enormous mounds took up almost her entire field of view. Her petite hands reached up to cup and weigh them. “They’re heavy!” her voice said. Her fingers then tried to clench into fists, but they were hindered by the soft tissue that was now compressed almost painfully. A small moan escaped her mouth. “They’re sensitive, too!” “Whoever or whatever is doing this to me, stop it immediately or you’re gonna regret this! You’re making me look like pervert,” Jenna tried to threaten the intruder inside her own head. “Bianca! Do something! Help me!”
Meanwhile in Bianca’s head, the situation did not look any better. “Jenna, stop squeezing your boobs and help me out. My body is acting weird,” Bianca’s inner voice said as she was forced to perv on her friend groping herself. “Why aren’t you answering me! Helloooo? Can you hear me?” “Sorry, Bianca, but Jenna won’t hear you”, Bianca heard her own mouth say. “You see, you’re not in control anymore. Not of others, and certainly not of yourself.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This is a sweet little thing called ‘revenge.’ Revenge for all the evil things you’ve done!” Bianca heard herself say. “I never did anything!” “Are you sure? ’cause there are two boys in your class who would beg to differ” “What? You mean those losers? Whatever we did, they deserved it!” “We didn’t deserve nothing! But you deserve everything that’s coming to you. You controlled our lives for the last few years, and now we’re going to control your bodies, until you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“So we’re being controlled? Then who is inside my body!” Jenna asked. “T-T-This is Milo,” he said, making her voice sound uncharacteristically timid. “Aaaww, hello no! My body is being controlled by this disgusting freak? Things just can’t get any worse! Now, listen here you little bitch, you get out of my body this instant or you’ll wish I was back to crushing your junk!” “Ray,” Milo said in Jenna’s voice, “I think she’s relly pissed now. Maybe we should reconsider this.” “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh said using Bianca’s body, “we’re in full control. Those are just empty threats.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “let’s gather a little–what do you girls call it in your profession?—ah yes: blackmail! I’m sure, soon you two little birds will be singing a different tune, as soon as you realize that your reputation is at stake.”
In the meantime Milo tried to get acquainted with navigating his new body. When he tried to stand up, he at first had trouble sorting out his balance, since he did not have enough time yet to get used to his new center of gravity. He almost fell over, but was able to catch to himself in time by placing his hands on the ground. If someone had walked in on them in this moment, they would have thought that Jenna was trying to immitate some four-legged animal. Both her hands and feet were firmly planted on the ground and with her legs entirely straight, her butt proudly pointed towards the ceiling.
“Wow. Her body is really flexible.” Milo said with amazement. “Look, I can touch my toes!” “That’s because she’s a gymnast,” Rayleigh reminded him. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Mmmmhhh … I wonder if can …” With that, Milo stood back upright and then slowly started bending over backwards. “Haha, look at me. I’m like some girl from a horror movie,” he said laughing in Jenna’s voice while contorting her body into all sorts of strange shapes.
Next, he wanted to try doing splits. For that he stood back up again and then slowly slid his legs apart, one forward, one backward. As his step increased and increased, his pelvis automatically inched closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he plopped down on the floor with the full lengths of Jenna’s legs touching the ground. “Amazing, this doesn’t even hurt. Not one bit!”
“So, ‘Jenna’,” Rayleigh interrupted his antics with a wink, “why don’t you show us what else you can do?” “Ok, I guess, …” Rayleigh then got out Bianca’s phone and started recording, while Milo got up and started fumbling with the buttons on Jenna’s pajamas. “Uh, sorry …, this might take a while,” Milo said blushing with nervousness. With the way the red was highlighted by her pale skin and how her blue eyes flitted around nervously, Milo made Jenna almost look like an innocent school girl right before her first recital.
“Finally!” Milo whispered as he managed to open the last button. The opening of Jenna’s now-unbuttoned shirt provided a small window revealing both the creamy skin of her taut belly and how her big, teenage breasts gently touched each other even without a bra.
“Wait, what do you plan on doing? You don’t … No! Don’t! Pleeease, stop it! Anything but that!” Jenna cried in her own head, but Milo just ignored her. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Milo started awkwardly moving Jenna’s hips to an imaginary beat while slowly sliding her shirt off her dainty shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms, and finally letting it drop to the ground.
There they were: the biggest—and first—pair of boobs the two boys had ever seen in real life. Jenna’s boobs. They were marvellous, full and perky. They looked like ripe fruit garnished by two rosy nipples. The rough movements of Jenna’s hips made them bounce up and down, hypnotizing anyone who dared to gaze upon them.
At the same time, Milo made all sorts of awkward expressions with Jenna’s face, trying desperately to make her look sexy. He even ruffled up Jenna’s hair to make her look more raunchy, but instead it looked like a mess and only added to his overall inept performance. “L-look at me, I’m J-jenna,” he said unconvincingly, “I might act all innocent around everyone else, but … um … in truth I’m a total slut.” “Nooooo! Stop it!” Jenna pleaded in desperation. “You make me look like such a loser!”
“Haha, what are you doing?” Rayleigh laughed. “You look like a total dork. Loosen up. You’re way too stiff! Here, you hold the camera. I’ll show you how it’s done!” Rayleigh said. He got up, handed Milo the phone, and then took his place.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I promise!” Bianca pleaded meekly. “Ha, fat chance!” Rayleigh said internally. “You had plenty of chance to stop over the years, but you just continued on. Now it’s payback time, baby.” His confidence all fired up, he started dancing with much more bravado than Milo had shown before him.
Next, he flung off Bianca’s shirt in one swift motion, presenting her rather modest chest. “Well,” he said mockingly, “I think we all know that ‘my’ strengths have always laid elsewhere, don’t we?” With that he faced away from the camera and started wiggling Bianca’s enormous butt, which made her pajama pants slowly slide down her hips, revealing inch by inch her big, dark buns.
As soon as Bianca’s pants hit the floor, Rayleigh started slapping her butt, sending ripples through her giant cheeks. “Look at ‘my’ ass!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Then he bent Bianca’s body forward and started twerking as hard he could, providing quite the show for the camera. “Please, no. This is humiliating.” Bianca whimpered. “I’m not like that!”
“See ‘Jenna’? That’s how it’s done. You gotta be proud of what your mama gave you!” Rayleigh said in a mock imitation of Bianca. If she were still in control of her own body, then tears would now start rolling down her face. “Hi, I’m Bianca, the star of the soccer team. When these cheek’s ain’t busy scoring goals, they be clapping for the team.” At this point Rayleigh was reveling in the control he was exerting over his former bullies.
Then, as a final act of humiliation, he strode over to Milo. He took the phone off of him and held it up high, angling it in such a way that both girls were in full view. Next, he put his other hand on the back of Jenna’s head, and then lunged in, kissing his friend deeply.
At first, Milo was caught by surprise. But then, for a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the girl’s soft lips meshing with each other and Jenna’s breast pressing against Bianca’s.
______________________________
“No, no, no, noooo!” Jenna and Bianca cried in unison. “If anyone sees this, we’re done. Pleeeease don’t do this! We beg of you! We regret what we did. We’re deeply sorry. We won’t come near you ever again. We’re also gonna make up for all that we did to you, we swear.”
Their cries snapped Milo out of their sensual entanglement. He broke off the kiss and gently pushed Rayleigh away from himself. “Ray, I think this is enough. They seem to have learned their lesson. Let’s just stop and leave. We probably have enough material to keep them in line.” “But why?” Rayleigh protested. “We’re having so much fun. Come on!” “No, I mean it,” Milo said, asserting himself for the first time in his life. “I also told you that I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. Yeah, I want to get revenge, too, but not like this!”
“Fine,” Rayleigh pouted. “But I think you’ll be changing your mind real soon about this, Jenna,” “What do you mean, Bianca?” Milo said. “And stop calling me ‘Jenna’.” A grin started spreading across Bianca’s face. “Wait, why did I call you ‘Bianca’?” Milo asked. “Because that’s my name, silly,” Rayleigh replied. “I’m Bianca and you’re Jenna.” “No, I'm not Jenna,” Milo exlaimed, “I’m Jenna! Wait … Aargh, stop it!” His heart started beating faster and fear started to settle in. “Are you doing this to me, Bianca?”
Milo felt a jolt run through his stolen body. He suddenly could not move anymore. “Wait, Bianca! Stop it. Please don’t do this!” Milo said, trapped in someone else’s head. He felt Jenna’s lips move all by themselves. “Bianca, I haven’t been honest with you,” Jenna’s body said. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve had a crush on you. I was ashamed of my feelings. You know, a girl liking a girl. I know, we live in more progressive times now. But still, what would people think? Also, I was afraid that you might hate me if I told you how I really felt. I’m still afraid. But, I can’t hide it any longer. Not anymore. Bianca, I love you!”
There was a moment of silece. “Please don’t hate me,” ‘Jenna’ pleaded quietly. “Aaaw, sweety,” Rayleigh said in Bianca’s voice, enjoying the act he made them put on. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. But now we can be more than friends. The truth is, I also liked you from the beginning. I’ve always looked forward to our sleepovers, where it’s just the two of us, all alone. And I’ve always enjoyed the way you smell each time we hugged, and feeling your warm body press against mine. Also, I’ve always secretly peeked at you when we were changing before P.E. and then thought of you when I masturbated at home. I’m just so happy that the truth is out now. Thanks to you I don’t feel ashamed anymore to admit it: I love you, too, Jenna.”
By now, Jenna’s body was a mere puppet, dancing to the pull of her master’s will. It was completely empty, devoid of any free will. Her only purpose now was to act out her role in Rayleigh’s play. Rayleigh used his powers to force tears of happiness to stream down Jenna’s face, which was glowing with joy. Then the two ‘girls’ embraced each other. “Does that mean, I’m your girlfriend now?” ‘Jenna’ asked while trying to wipe away the tears. “Of course it does!” ‘Bianca’ said while gently poking Jenna’s nose with her finger. “Now let me show what real girlfriends do.” “No, Bianca, I don’t want this. Don’t make me do this. This isn’t right,” Milo tried to say, but no one could hear him.
Then Jenna’s and Bianca’s bodies started to slowly and tenderly kiss each other. At first their lips only grazed each other reluctantly, quivering with a little nervousness. But with every soft touch, they grew more and more confident. Soon they were not just kissing anymore, but ravaging each other like animals, their moans muffled by each other’s lips and their hands wildy roaming all over each other’s bodies and through their hair. Milo could not help but feel the arousal of Jenna’s body slowly spill over into his mind.
Rayleigh placed Bianca’s chocolaty hands on Jenna’s enormous, milk-colored breasts while Jenna’s delicate hands explored the vastness of Bianca’s mighty butt. Then they stopped their kissing to give themselves a chance to catch their breath. They intensly stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Bianca’ into Jenna’s baby blue eyes and ‘Jenna’ into Bianca’s dark hazel eyes. A cheeky grin started to spread across each of their faces.
Rayeleigh took Jenna’s hand and led her over to her bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Jenna’s body onto Bianca’s lap. He slowly glid his hands along Jenna’s waist, drinking in her contours. Now on eye-level with her chest, he was completely entranced by her breasts. “Shake ’em for me,” he whispered. Against her will, Jenna’s body started shaking her boobs, causing her hefty orbs to swing from side to side. At the same time, Rayleigh started inching Bianca’s face closer and closer towards Jenna’s chest until he was nestling inbetween her soft globes, surrounded on both sides with warm flesh. Then he lifted up his stolen hands, placed them on either side of her mounds, and began pressing and squeezing them, really rubbing in feeling of their softness and making Jenna moan with pleasure.
After a small pause Rayleigh motioned Jenna’s body to get off and gently, with his hand, guided her head down inbetween his legs. Without an explicit prompt, ‘Jenna’ started softly kissing Bianca’s waiting slit. Jenna’s upper lips brushed ever so lightly against Bianca’s lower lips, as if she was teasing her. Then she started to slowly trace the tip of her tongue up and down Bianca’s opening, making it quiver with pleasure. Rayleigh started moaning in Bianca’s sultry voice as arousal welled up inside his stolen body.
‘Jenna’ then entered Bianca with her tongue and started deeply kissing her nether regions and feasting on her sweet juices. The pleasure inside Bianca’s body started rising and rising until, finally, a wave of orgams swept over Bianca’s body. “Oh, gooood!” ‘Bianca’ groaned. ‘Her’ meaty thighs clamped down abruptly on Jenna’s head, trapping her as if she was caught in a vice. The shaking of ‘her’ legs made Jenna’s head vibrate.
Rayleigh started to slowly come down from his high, breaving heavily. Basking in its afterglow, he gently caressed Jenna’s head. “Wooow … That was amaaaaazing!” he exlaimed. “You’ve done well, ‘Jenna’. I think it’s only fair that I repay you. How about a little appetizer?” He then took one of Bianca’s feet and placed it right in front of her face, nudging her lips with her big toe. “I think you like that, don’t you? Yeah, I know you like that.” The tone of Bianca’s voice started to turn domineering.
“Ew, don’t make me do this. This is disgusting!” the real Jenna thought. Milo on the other hand seemed strangely aroused by this. What he didn’t realize was that Rayleigh had weakend his grip on him quite a while ago. He had subconciously been going along with Rayleigh’s act, dutifuly playing his part. Without any further force from Rayleigh he started licking Bianca’s feet, up and down their entire sole and sucking vigorously sucking on her toes.
“Goood,” Rayleigh cooed. “Now get up, slut!” With that Milo bolted upwards and stood erect like a soldier. Then Rayleigh got up off the bed and stood in front of Milo. He reached out with both of Bianca’s hands and squeezed Jenna’s breasts hard, as if he wanted to squeeze juice out of lemons. “Ow!” Milo winced in pain. Jenna’s nipples became stiff with arousal.
Milo was still in turmoil about the morality of all of this, but he could no longer deny that it was exciting him. Then—slap, slap, slap! Jenna’s breasts jiggled widly with each hit that Rayleigh brought down on them. The pain reverberated throughout Jenna’s boobs and fuelled Milo’s rising pleasure as Bianca’s hands left increasingly redder marks on them. Rayleigh then gently rolled Jenna’s nipples inbetween his fingers. And without warning, he suddenly twisted them with a tremendous amount of force, nearly drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from Milo, as an orgasm washed over him that almost made Jenna’s knees buckle under the strain.
Rayleigh then drew a finger across Jenna’s wet slit, which made Milo shudder. He played with a string of Jenna’s juices inbetween his fingers and said, “I see someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” Milo did not dare to speak as his wildest fantasies were coming true right in this moment. All he could muster was a muffled, “mmmmhh,” while he nodded. Both Milo and Rayleigh increasingly enjoyed Rayleigh’s power trip, though for different reasons.
“Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?” Rayleigh said in a threatening tone. “I guess I’ll have to teach you!” With that, he forcefully threw Milo onto Jenna’s bed. He then took a deep breath before Bianca’s hands started raining down pain on Jenna’s ass. The intense spanking caused the heat inside of Milo to flare up again. “Yeees, harder! Harder!” Milo cried.
But before he was able to peak a second time, Rayleigh flipped over Jenna’s body onto her back. Then he grabbed the back of Jenna’s head and this time slammed it down into her own privates. He kept it there with brute force. Even though Jenna’s body was very flexible, this forced position still caused Milo considerable pain. Jenna’s breasts squished uncomfortably into her ribcage and thereby constricted her lungs. “Who told you you could talk back, you little slut?” ‘Bianca’ shouted. “Now, eat up or your mistress is gonna show you what real pain is!”
As commanded, Milo started licking Jenna’s slit, taking in her unfamiliar yet delicious taste. As his tongue explored the depths of his stolen hole, the pleasure in his body kept rising and rising. However, at the same time, his oxygen supply started to run low, as he could hardly breathe in this position. Knowing that he had only a limited amount of time, Milo drasticly increased his fervor in lapping up Jenna’s sweet juices, hoping to free himself before he passed out. In a race between hitting orgasm and suffocation, his stolen lips became slicker and slicker while his vision steadily darkenend.
But finally, in a last ditch effort, he managed to send himself over the edge and hit another orgasm before he could pass out in Jenna’s body. Rayleigh took the shaking of Jenna’s legs as a sign and pulled up her head, making Milo gasp for much needed air. “Goood girl,” Rayleigh commended ‘Jenna’ in a soothing voice while caressing her head. Milo panted heavily. “You we’re right,” he said with a deeply content smile spreading across his stolen face. “This is fun.”
Little did you know that the island held a dark secret. It was secretly the den of a clan of demons who steal human bodies with a relic called the Daemon Ritus. They luckily managed to steal Sydney Sweeneys body when she visited the island for a photo shoot… and now she and her fellow demons trick people into going to the island to steal their bodies. You found out about this secret and promised to help out, so long as you get some benefits…
The email notification pinged on my phone just as I was stuffing it into my backpack, and the bold subject line made my heart skip: CONGRATULATIONS! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE WON A VIP TRIP TO SPOOKY ISLAND!
"Guys, check this out!" I practically shouted, nearly knocking over Kaori’s iced coffee as I jumped up from the tiny café table. Nate, Jade, Kaori, and Trisha all turned—mid-bickering over who had to sit in the middle seat on the train later—as I shook my phone at them. "We just won an all-expenses-paid trip to Spooky Island!"
Nate snatched the phone out of my hands, scrolling with the urgency of a man about to abandon all responsibilities. "The Spooky Island? The one with the Sydney Sweeney ads where everyone is making out in slow motion?" His grin widened. "Private villas, endless drinks, adult-friendly activities—hell yes."
Trisha flicked a sugar packet at his forehead. "Or, y’know, we end up in some weird Satanic beach ritual à la Midsommar."
Jade smirked, swirling her latte. "Worth it."
Kaori tucked a strand of pink-streaked hair behind her ear and shrugged. "Sydney Sweeney wouldn’t lie. She’s got integrity."
Before Trisha could list all the ways we’d probably get kidnapped, I hit CONFIRM.
Four days later, we landed on the island, and the second the plane doors opened, the heat and the bassline hit us like a wave. The beach ahead was alive—palm trees strung with glowing lanterns, groups of glossy-skinned people tangled in hammocks, and the distant sound of someone moaning like they’d just discovered pleasure for the first time.
Nate pushed his sunglasses onto his head, his expression pure delight. "Oh, we’re definitely supposed to be naked here."
He wasn’t wrong. Down by the shoreline, a girl in nothing but body paint was twerking against a guy wearing only a very loose cowboy hat. A group of guys sprinted past, their tans suddenly very even, and two girls were locked in a kiss so aggressive they nearly toppled into the surf.
Trisha’s eyebrows shot up. "Okay, I take it back. This is exactly my brand of cult activity."
A staff member—wearing what could barely be called a bikini—bounced over, dangling neon wristbands in front of us. "Welcome to your best summer ever!" she cheered, snapping them onto our wrists. "Rules are simple: No clothes, no shame, no regrets!"
Behind her, someone shrieked as they jumped off a pier naked, cannonballing into a cheering crowd. Another couple had tequila poured straight onto their bodies, licking it off each other’s stomachs between laughter.
Jade nudged me with her elbow. "Told you we should’ve packed more than sunscreen."
Nate stretched his arms out, breathing in the salty, debauchery-filled air. "This is the kind of horror story I can get behind."
The staff member motioned for us to follow her toward the hotel, her barely-there bikini bottoms swaying hypnotically with every step. Nate and I exchanged a glance, both of us shamelessly locked onto the mesmerizing rhythm of her ass.
"Eyes up here, you two," Trisha snapped, smacking me upside the head hard enough to make my teeth click.
Kaori and Jade flanked Nate, each grabbing a handful of his cheeks—one pinching, the other twisting—until he yelped.
"Ow! Okay, okay!" Nate rubbed his face, grinning despite himself. "What? Like you weren’t looking."
Jade rolled her eyes. "We were. But we have manners."
Kaori smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. "And better poker faces."
The staff member glanced back over her shoulder, clearly aware of the chaos behind her, and winked. "Don’t worry, boys. You’ll have plenty to stare at soon enough."
Trisha groaned. "Oh, we’re doomed."
Once we arrived at the hotel we followed a new staff member—a guy this time—through the hotel’s sleek, glass-walled lobby. His fitted polo barely contained his sculpted shoulders, and the way his tan shorts clung to his thighs was downright criminal. Every step made the fabric shift in ways that had even Trisha biting her lip.
The suite was exactly like the one from the ad—plush white couches, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the ocean, and what looked like a champagne tub big enough for six. The staff member turned with a grin, dangling a keycard between his fingers. "Private beach access, 24-hour room service, anything you need." His voice dipped lower. "Just give me a call."
Jade and Kaori were not subtle about their gaze dragging from his chest down to the very noticeable bulge in his shorts. Nate nudged me, smirking.
"Eyes up," I stage-whispered, mimicking Trisha’s earlier scolding.
Trisha didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. "Oh, shut up. Like you two weren’t drooling over the last one."
The staff member chuckled, stretching his arms overhead in a way that made the hem of his polo ride up, revealing a strip of toned abs. "Enjoy your stay," he murmured, tossing the keycard onto the counter with deliberate slowness.
The second the door shut behind him, Nate muttered, "That was absolutely on purpose."
Kaori fanned herself with a menu. "And I respect the hustle."
Jade flopped onto the couch, sighing. "We should just accept that we’re all terrible people."
Trisha popped open the champagne with a satisfying pop. "No regrets, right?"
Nate stretched out on the couch with an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head toward the balcony where we could hear the distant laughter from the beach. "Alright, who's brave enough to hit the nude beach with me?"
Trisha scoffed into her champagne glass. "Oh, come on. You're literally just asking so you can see one of us naked."
Nate didn't even try to deny it, shrugging with a shameless grin. "Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? Like, look at you three." He gestured lazily between them. "Jade, you’ve got that whole goddess of temptation thing going on, Trish, you’re built like a Bond girl, and Kaori—" His smirk deepened. "Kaori’s the real mystery. Always covered up, even in swimsuits. Rash guards? Shorts? I mean, what’s under there, huh?"
Kaori almost choked on her drink, her cheeks flushing pink as she immediately broke into rapid-fire Japanese, hands gesturing wildly like she was trying to bat the words out of the air.
Trisha and Jade practically launched themselves at Nate—Trisha delivering a sharp slap to his chest while Jade went straight for his face, flicking his nose hard. "You animal," Jade hissed, though her lips were twitching with amusement.
I scooted closer to Kaori, rubbing her back while she kept murmuring in Japanese, her fingers twisting nervously in the hem of her oversized shirt. "Hey, ignore him," I said softly. "You know Nate—zero brain-to-mouth filter."
Kaori groaned, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. "Baka!"
Nate just grinned, rubbing his sore nose. "Worth."
Kaori took a deep breath, fingers finally relaxing from their death grip on her shirt. She turned to me with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Jason," she murmured, smoothing her shirt down. "But—under no circumstances am I going to that nude beach." She shot Nate a sharp glare. "And no bikinis."
Nate groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. "You're killing me, Kaori."
Jade rolled her eyes. "Oh no, how ever will you survive without seeing Kaori's forbidden skin—"
Trisha tossed a pillow at his face. "Get over it."
I clapped my hands together. "Alright, since we clearly have divergent interests, how about we split up today?" I glanced around the room. "Explore different parts of the island, report back, and make a proper itinerary for the week?"
Nate perked up immediately. "Nude beach. Calling it."
Trisha snorted. "Of course you are." She stretched her arms overhead before nodding toward the island's center. "I was eyeing that hiking trail up to the mountain. Good views, probably less..." She gestured vaguely toward the window where someone had just shrieked, "CHUG CHUG CHUG!"
Jade was already scrolling through the resort’s food map on her phone. "Buffets. All of them."
Kaori folded her arms, but her expression softened. "Surfing lessons. The clothed kind."
And me? I grinned. "The mall. Rumor has it designer brands here are practically giving stuff away."
Nate whistled. "A man of culture."
Trisha nudged me. "Better grab me something nice."
Jade perked up. "Oh! And if you see any limited-edition K-Beauty—"
Kaori smacked her lightly. "Jade."
We all laughed, the tension from earlier dissolving into easy excitement.
Nate stretched with a smug smirk. "Alright. Let the real Spooky Island adventure begin."
We all went our separate ways, with me making everyone promise to message our group chat if they spotted anything wild—or if Nate ended up mooning the entire beach (again).
The rumors about the mall were no joke. Within an hour, I had a legit Rolex wrapped around my wrist, its polished face glinting under the tropical lights. A hundred bucks. A hundred freaking bucks. I kept checking the paperwork—Spooky Island was listed as an official retailer, fine print and all—but my brain still couldn’t process it.
I was halfway to the limited-edition Jordans display when my blood froze mid-step.
Sydney. Sweeney.
Right there, strolling past the Sunglass Hut like this was any normal Tuesday. And she wasn’t alone. A guy I barely registered—tall, broad, looking equal parts confused and thrilled—was being towed along by her manicured grip, Sydney’s free hand pressing a finger to her lips in a shhh motion.
I didn’t even think. My feet moved before my brain could yell BAD IDEA. They ducked into a discreet hallway marked STAFF ONLY, and by the time I crept close enough to peek, Sydney had the guy pinned against the wall, one hand fisted in his shirt.
Sydney pressed closer, her fingers curling into the man's shirt with predatory grace. "You ever fuck someone with one of these meatsuits yet?" she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.
The guy tensed, swallowing hard. "N-no. Just took this body maybe an hour ago." He blinked twice, rolling his shoulders like the sensation of human skin was still foreign. "Still getting used to the... the equipment."
Sydney snorted, running a fingertip down his chest in a way that made him shiver. "Equipment's the same, no matter what species wears it. Just hotter and sweatier now." Her grin widened, all sharp amusement. "Guess I'm your first proper ride in this flesh, huh?"
The guy exhaled sharply, eyes darting down to where her thigh had slotted between his. "Uh. Yeah."
"Good." Sydney pressed her lips to his pulse point, humming when his nails dug into the wall behind him. "Let me show you how humans play."
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket—Nate: GUYS THE BEACH IS OFFICIALLY A NO-CLOTHES-FROM-THE-WAIST-DOWN ZONE???—but I barely registered it. Because I was too busy trying to process whatever weird-ass conversation Sydney was having with this guy.
Meatsuits? Species? What the hell did that even mean?
But then Sydney pressed her thigh between his legs, and the guy let out a sharp, desperate sound, and suddenly, the existential crisis in my brain took an immediate backseat.
Sydney hooked her fingers in the hem of her dress and yanked it up past her hips, revealing the kind of lingerie that made my blood pressure spike. The guy—who was definitely not confused anymore—lunged forward, mouth meeting hers in a kiss that looked more like a fight for dominance than anything tender.
She shoved him back against the wall, and he went willingly, groaning as her hands slid down his body like she was mapping every inch.
My brain short-circuited as Sydney rocked her hips against the guy, her nails raking down his back hard enough to leave red trails. The guy groaned against her neck, fingers digging into her waist as she rode him with ruthless precision. Every movement was pure hunger—the way she rolled her hips, the way she arched her back as he dragged his teeth along her collarbone. My cock strained against my shorts, aching, and before I could stop myself, I had my hand wrapped around it, stroking in time with Sydney’s rhythm.
She was relentless, bouncing on him with bruising force, her moans low and dark as the guy slammed into her. “Fuck me like you mean it,” she growled, gripping his hair to yank his head back. The guy gasped, his body shuddering, and judging by the way his grip tightened on her hips, he was already close.
I wasn’t far behind. Sydney’s thighs tensed, her body clenching around him as she let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, that’s it—feel it.” Then she locked onto his mouth, swallowing his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. His whole body went rigid, a choked cry tearing from his throat as he came, pulse after pulse, hands clawing at her skin as she milked him dry.
Sydney followed seconds later, her back arching violently, head thrown back—but instead of a moan, she let out a sound that sent ice through my veins. A rough, guttural snarl, inhuman and raw, like something out of a nightmare.
Holy shit. My fingers clenched, my orgasm hitting me in a wave I couldn’t stop, spurting hot and thick onto the floor between my feet.
The moment I came back to my senses, I was shoving myself back into my shorts, my pulse roaring in my ears. That sound—it wasn’t right. Whatever the hell Sydney was, she wasn’t human, and I needed to be gone.
I didn’t even bother zipping up properly before bolting for the door, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Just as my fingers brushed the handle, I heard it—Sydney’s sharp inhale.
“Cum,” she muttered, voice dripping with menace.
Dread coiled in my gut as I risked one last glance back. Sydney had dropped into a crouch, her fingers tracing through the mess I’d left behind. Her gaze flicked up—right toward the shadows where I’d been standing—and the growl that followed sent me scrambling forward.
“Someone here still owns their flesh,” she snarled. “And they saw us.”
I didn’t stick around to hear the rest.
John and his friends were surprised the site actually worked, and their curiosity got the better of them. They had sex in every possible combination: mother and son, father and daughters, sisters and brother, mother and sister... lets just say that John and his friends became frequent users of the site, with the Drew family being their main hosts!
The air in my apartment was thick with exhaustion and the lingering stench of energy drinks. Finals had officially wrecked us—Kevin was sprawled across the couch like a corpse, James was rubbing his temples like he was trying to erase the last 72 hours from memory, and Steve and Russel were slumped on the floor, barely conscious.
Russel scrolled lazily through his phone before suddenly sitting up. "No way. You guys seeing this shit?" He turned the screen toward us, revealing a Reddit thread with the title: "BodyPossession.com is LEGIT—I spent an hour as my hot neighbor and now I’m addicted."
Kevin snorted. "Yeah, and I’m Elon Musk. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."
James groaned. "If people could just steal bodies, the world would be a nightmare. Think about it—politicians, celebrities, your ex? Total chaos."
Russel smirked. "Tell that to the thousands of people swearing it works. Says you upload a pic, pay in crypto, and boom—first hour’s free. Like a trial run."
Steve, who had been half-asleep, cracked an eye open. "Okay, hypothetically—if this wasn’t complete bullshit—who would you even possess?"
A slow, stupid grin spread across my face.
I grabbed my laptop. "Only one way to find out."
The guys groaned, half-heartedly protesting, but curiosity got the better of them as they crowded behind me. I typed BodyPossession.com into Google, fully expecting nothing but scam links.
But there it was—first result. No shady redirects, no sketchy warnings. Just a sleek black-and-white homepage with bold letters:
"TEMPORARY BODY HOSTING. FIRST HOUR FREE."
Silence.
Russel exhaled. "What the actual fuck."
Kevin jabbed my arm. "This has got to be fake."
I clicked the gallery. Hundreds of faces loaded—some smiling for the camera, others caught unaware, like the site had scraped every social media profile in existence. A cold tingle slithered down my neck, but I ignored it, scrolling faster.
"Let’s keep it simple," I said, pulling up the Drews’ Instagram—our insanely hot neighbors who lived one floor above us.
Samantha Drew, late 40s but looking like she could pass for a decade younger, full lips and curves that made yoga pants look like a crime. Henry Drew, six-foot-something of sculpted muscle, the kind of guy who probably bench-pressed his kids for fun. Their daughter, Sophie, medical student by day, knockout by night, with that dangerous combo of brains and a body that belonged in a magazine. And the twins—Abby, a lithe, bright-eyed brunette with legs for days, and Lance, her cocky, broad-shouldered counterpart who acted like the dorm showers were his personal runway.
Steve let out a low whistle. "Oh yeah. Mom’s mine."
"The hell she is," James snapped, elbowing him. "Dibs don’t mean shit—this isn’t monopoly."
Russel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Guys. First things first—who the hell gets last pick? Because I know none of you are volunteering."
I tuned them out. My fingers moved before I could second-guess—cropping Henry’s sharply defined jawline from a Cabo vacation pic and dropping it onto the site.
HOST SELECTED: HENRY DREW
FIRST HOUR FREE. SESSION BEGINS IN 10…
Kevin yanked at the laptop. "John, no—think for one goddamn second—!"
Russel just cackled. "Oh, you beautiful, reckless bastard—"
The screen flared white.
Then—nothing.
Chapter One: The Summoning
The runes on the stone floor flared to life as the last drop of my blood sizzled against the ancient symbols. The air thickened, smelling of burnt copper and something impossibly sweet—her scent, though I didn’t know it yet.
Then, like sunlight breaking through a storm, she appeared.
The elf princess stood naked in the circle, her skin the color of twilight, long silver hair cascading down her back like liquid moonlight. Pointed ears twitched in alarm as those luminous green eyes locked onto me, wide with dawning terror.
"Human," she hissed, voice like wind through autumn leaves. "What have you done?"
I licked my lips, my pulse hammering. The spell was supposed to be simple: summon, contain, consume. I needed her body. Her power. All of her.
But gods, I hadn’t expected her to be so... alive.
The binding circle held, the magic searing into her ankles when she tried to step forward. "Release me!" she demanded, but the words trembled.
"No," I said, stepping closer. "You don’t understand. I’m not letting you out." My fingers hovered just beyond the barrier, aching to touch. "I’m letting in."
Her breath hitched as realization struck—this wasn’t a kidnapping.
It was a trade.
The second part of the spell pulsed through my veins, a dark, hungry weight spreading through my chest. I could feel it, the rip between our souls, the way her essence strained against mine like silk caught on thorns.
"Stop!" she gasped, but it was too late. My vision blurred—no, doubled—and then—
---
You assimilate her soul into yours so completely, that you become her entirely. Now other magic will see you as her.
---
Chapter Two: The Devouring
Her scream tore through the chamber as the spell’s teeth sank in—not into flesh, but deeper. Into her.
I felt it the moment the first thread of her soul unraveled, silken and electric, sliding into me like honeyed fire. Her knees buckled, but the circle held her upright, her body trembling as I drank her in.
Mine.
Her memories flickered behind my eyes—endless forests, the weight of a crown, the whisper of wind against bare skin. The taste of starlight on her tongue. I groaned, fingers digging into my own arms as her essence coiled around mine, merging, melting.
"No—no, stop—" Her voice was weaker now, a fading echo. "You can’t—"
"I can," I whispered—and then her voice spilled from my lips.
Her gasp was my gasp. Her shudder, mine. The circle’s light pulsed, and I watched, dizzy, as my hands—no, hers—rose between us, slender and moon-pale. My reflection shimmered in her wide eyes: her face, her lips parting in a ragged breath.
The last resistance snapped.
Her body collapsed, empty, as her soul dissolved into me with a final, shuddering sigh. I staggered, clutching my—her—chest, feeling the wild drum of her heart. My heart.
The magic settled like a second skin.
I ran trembling fingers down my new body—the curve of my hips, the points of my ears, the slick heat between my thighs. A laugh bubbled up, high and musical—her laugh—as I turned toward the mirror.
The elf princess stared back.
And she smiled.
---
Your run your hand sover your generous curves as you explore your body.
---
Chapter Three: Awakening the Stolen Flesh
My fingers trailed down the slope of my throat, marveling at the silken texture of new skin. The elf princess’s body was perfect—each curve sculpted by grace, each breath a whisper of untouched sensuality. I let out a slow exhale, my—her—lips parting as I brushed my fingertips over a peaked nipple.
A shiver raced through me.
“Gods…” The word slipped out in her voice, sweet and musical, laced with my own dark amusement. My other hand slid lower, fingers tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hips. No clothes. None needed. Elves saw no shame in flesh, and now, neither did I.
I turned toward the cracked mirror propped against the chamber wall, watching myself—her—move with liquid elegance. The swell of my breasts, the pale pink of my nipples, the way my waist narrowed invitingly before flaring into luscious hips and toned thighs. I bit her lower lip, arousal tightening low in my stomach.
Mine.
Experimentally, I let a finger drag down my stomach, lower, lower—until I reached the delicate heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped me at the first brush of contact. So sensitive.
The princess had been untouched. I wouldn’t be.
I sank to my knees, refusing to look away from my reflection as my fingers delved deeper, parting soft folds, reveling in the slickness already gathering there. Every touch sent sparks through my stolen nerves. My back arched, silver hair falling over my shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter—
Then the door rattled.
---
"Lynna, we came to save you." Her personal knight/handmaiden says. "You mother felt the dark magic that took you away."
---
Chapter Four: The Deception Begins
The voice was like tempered steel—fierce, loyal, and oh-so-fragile in its concern. My fingers stilled, but I didn’t pull away. Not yet. Through lowered lashes, I watched the door creak open to reveal the intruder.
A warrior woman stood framed in the dim light, clad in supple leather armor that hugged her toned form, her dark braid slung over one shoulder. A longsword was strapped to her hip, but her amber eyes held no threat—only devotion. Her knight.
Handmaiden. Protector. Lover?
The princess’s memories surged up in answer—Valria. Always at my side. Always watching… always wanting. A smirk curled my lips. Interesting.
I let my legs slide wider, just a fraction, watching her gaze flicker down before snapping back up, her cheeks darkening. Caught you.
“L-Lynna,” Valria stammered, her usual discipline cracking. “Your mother felt the disturbance. She sent me to—are you—?” Her throat worked as I trailed a lazy finger back up my thigh.
“To save me?” I sighed, leaning back on my palms, letting the torchlight play over every bare inch of Lynna’s stolen body. “From what, exactly?”
Valria’s sword hand twitched, torn between drawing steel and touching. Oh, she’s been wanting. The princess’s memories whispered of stolen glances, of heated silences, of chances never taken.
“You’re… unharmed?” Valria breathed, stepping closer.
“Come see for yourself.” I tilted my head, letting my voice drip with Lynna’s sweetness—but laced with something darker. Something mine.
---
"This sad little human,'" you say pointing at your old body, "thought he could enslave me. Unfortunately as part of his plan, I have been cursed with lust."
---
Chapter Five: A Curse Worth Keeping
A slow, wicked smile curled her—my—lips as I gestured dismissively at the lifeless husk sprawled on the stone floor. My old body. Pathetic. Empty.
Valria’s gaze darted between me and the corpse, her warrior’s instincts clashing with something far more personal. “A—lust curse?” she repeated, her voice thick.
I arched my back, letting my silver hair spill over my shoulders like molten moonlight, my lithe form sprawled shamelessly before her. “Mmm. A terrible affliction.” I dragged my fingers down my collarbone, tracing the curve of my breast, delighting in the way Valria’s breath hitched. “I need constant relief. A devoted handmaiden might need to… attend me.”
Her sword clattered to the ground.
The sound was delicious. I stretched, letting my thighs part just enough to tease, watching her pupils swallow the amber of her eyes.
“You—you’re serious?” Valria whispered.
“Do I look like I’m in jest?” I purred, tilting my hips up in invitation. “The curse is quite insistent.” I bit my lower lip, letting a needy whimper escape. “Unless you’d rather I suffer?”
Valria moved without thinking—the loyal knight always rushing to her princess’s aid. But this time, when her hands closed around my waist, it wasn’t to protect.
It was to claim.
(Would you like to explore Valria’s “treatment” of the curse in detail, or would you prefer to fast-forward to the throne room, where Queen Ashera awaits her “daughter’s” return?)
---
Explore the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion
Valria’s hands trembled against my waist—warm, calloused, so unlike the softness she now touched. The scent of leather and steel clung to her, mixing with the heady sweetness of my new body’s arousal.
She couldn’t resist.
And I? I reveled in it.
“Tell me what to do,” she rasped, her voice rough with barely checked hunger.
I laced my fingers behind my head, stretching languidly beneath her gaze. “You’re the knight sworn to serve your princess,” I murmured, arching a teasing brow. “Surely you can… deduce what’s needed.”
A growl rumbled from her throat. Then her mouth crashed down on mine.
Her kiss was untamed, possessive—years of pent-up longing poured into a single searing touch. I moaned into her lips, twining my arms around her neck, pulling her harder against me. Her armor bit into my skin, but the pain only sharpened the pleasure.
Yes.
She tore her mouth away, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. “Lynna,” she panted against my pulse. “Gods, I’ve wanted—”
I dug my nails into her shoulders. “Show me.”
Valria needed no further encouragement.
Would you prefer a fade-to-black here, or a deeper dive into the “treatment” on the stone floor?
---
Continue the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion (Continued)
Valria's sword-calloused hands mapped every inch of my stolen body with rough reverence, her lips leaving burning trails across my collarbone. I arched against her, my back lifting off the cold stone as her teeth grazed one peaked nipple.
"All these years," she growled against my skin, "watching you walk through court bare as the dawn..." Her hand slid between my thighs, fingers parting slick folds. "Knowing I had to remain... proper..."
I moaned, wrapping my legs around her waist. "Not proper now," I gasped as two thick fingers plunged deep without warning. My head fell back with a cry, back arching. The princess's body was untouched, every sensation heightened - I felt every ridge of her gauntlet, every shift of her wrist as she began a relentless rhythm.
"Look at you," Valria breathed, watching me writhe beneath her. "Like starlight in my hands." Her thumb found that perfect little bundle of nerves and pressed hard, just as her fingers curled just so inside me.
White heat exploded behind my eyes. The princess's body convulsed, clamping down as I came with a scream that echoed off the chamber walls, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Valria's free hand muffled my cries with rough kisses as she worked me through the aftershocks.
"You're not done," she murmured when my breathing finally steadied. "Not until this curse is properly satisfied." In one fluid motion, she flipped me onto my stomach, my bare chest scraping against the stone floor. "And I intend to be very thorough."
(Would you like to explore Valria claiming her princess more completely, or reveal the growing darkness in Lynna's stolen eyes as she begins corrupting her knight's devotion?)
---
The claiming
---
Chapter Seven: The Knight's Submission
Her palm came down on the curve of my bare backside with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. I gasped, pleasure-pain lighting up nerves that had never been touched this way before. The princess might have been noble, untouchable—but I was remaking her into something far more interesting.
Valria’s fingers tangled in my silver hair, yanking my head back as her other hand slid around my waist, fingers dipping between my thighs from behind. “You’re shaking,” she murmured against my ear, her voice thick with dark satisfaction. “Is the mighty princess overwhelmed?”
I laughed—low, throaty, Lynna’s voice but mine, holding a hunger the real princess never could have summoned. “Hardly.” I pressed back against her, feeling the hard leather of her armor against my bare skin. “Unless my brave knight is frightened of a little curse?”
A growl rumbled through her chest.
Then she was on me.
Her armor clattered to the floor, piece by piece, until nothing but sweat-slick skin separated us. The weight of her pressed me into the stone, the heat of her body searing against my back. I bit my lip as her hand slid down again, fingers slipping inside me with none of the hesitation she’d shown before.
Good girl. She moved inside me with relentless focus, her other arm locking around my waist, holding me flush against her. I could feel her own need, the hard press of her thigh between mine, the way her breath hitched when I rocked back against her.
“You think you’re saving me, don’t you?” I panted, my fingers curling against the unforgiving stone.
Valria didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, her free hand found my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling me onto her fingers with every thrust. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with our gasps, my moans.
Then—her teeth sank into my shoulder.
Fuck.
Pleasure fractured through me, sharp and blinding. My body convulsed around her fingers, back arching, a scream spilling free as wave after wave tore through me. Valria held me through it, her touch turning almost tender as she slowed, dragging out the last sweet pulses of sensation.
When I finally sagged against the floor, boneless and spent, she leaned over me. “Better?” she murmured, breath hot against my ear.
I turned my head, catching her lips in a slow, filthy kiss. “For now.” My fingers traced her jaw. “But curses like this… they linger.”
Valria’s eyes darkened—with hunger, with something deeper. Something dangerous.
I grinned.
Perfect.
(Will you savor your dominance over Valria, or begin your return to court—where the real fun begins? Or perhaps the Queen’s seers have already sensed something amiss with her “daughter”…?)
---
You kiss Valria and assimilate her soul as well.
---
Chapter Eight: Claiming the Knight
The moment our lips met again, I didn’t just kiss her—I opened myself to the deepest magic humming beneath my stolen flesh. Valria gasped against my mouth as she felt it too—the dark, shimmering pull, the same hungry presence that had devoured the original Lynna whole.
Mine.
She tried to wrench back, but my hand tangled in her hair, holding her close as my other palm pressed against the racing pulse at her throat. Her eyes went wide as the first thread of her essence unraveled, her memories pouring into me—years of silent devotion, stolen glances in the royal baths, restless nights imagining this moment but never like this—
"P-Princess—" Her voice was already fading, her body slackening against mine.
"Shhh," I murmured against her lips, drinking her in. "No more waiting."
I felt the exact second she disappeared—her gasp, her fingers clawing at my arms one last time, then... stillness. Her body slumped against me, empty, as her soul folded seamlessly into mine.
Then—movement.
I flexed her fingers, rolled her shoulders, felt the coiled strength in her warrior’s body. When I opened her eyes, I saw myself—Lynna’s body, sprawled beautifully across the stone floor, watching me with a smirk.
Two minds. Two bodies. One will.
I—she—reached out, running a hand down my bare chest. "Mmm," Valria’s voice purred, raspier than before. "This could be... fun."
(Will you return to court with your twin selves? Unleash your shared hunger on the unsuspecting elven nobles? Or will the queen’s mages notice the void where two souls once burned?)
---
"Princess, now that the curse is broken, we should return home."
---
Chapter Nine: The Return
"My lady?" Valria's voice—my voice now—carried the same disciplined cadence as before, but there was a new undercurrent to it. A shared amusement, a knowing. "The Queen will be waiting."
I rose from the stones slowly, stretching Lynna's sinuous body, letting the dim light catch every perfect curve. My old body lay discarded in the corner—a withered husk, forgotten. I didn't need it anymore.
We didn't.
Valria—my Valria—stepped forward, offering a hand. The faintest smirk played at her lips, the only hint of the truth beneath. To any outsider, she was the same steadfast knight, sworn to protect her princess. But I could feel the hunger coiled inside her, the same dark current that pulsed through me.
"Of course," I murmured, taking her hand. Our fingers interlaced, and for a moment, the sensation was dizzying—touching myself through another's flesh. "Let's not keep Mother waiting."
The throne room would be our next stage. The court, our feast.
After all, who better to deceive a queen than her own beloved daughter?
(Does the Queen sense the deception? Or does something even darker await in the palace shadows? A third voice, perhaps, whispering in the empty spaces where the stolen souls once burned...?)
---
You return and play the role of princess
---
Chapter Ten: A Perfect Performance
The palace gates loomed before us, their silver-etched arches gleaming in the moonlight. At my side, Valria stood as dutiful as ever. But beneath the illusion of her unwavering loyalty, I could feel her—myself—smirking.
"Remember," I murmured through our shared thoughts, keeping my eyes downcast in the perfect portrayal of the gentle princess. "No matter what happens... we remain flawless."
The great doors swung open. The court gasped.
"Lynna!" Queen Ashera rose from her throne, her moon-pale robes cascading around her like liquid starlight. She moved with the same ethereal grace I now possessed—had stolen—her silver hair a mirror of mine. No, not mine. Hers.
I let my lip tremble—just slightly—before rushing into her outstretched arms. "Mother," I breathed, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Warm. Familiar. Wrong.
She smelled like jasmine and winter air, a scent the princess's memories immediately recognized. Home. Safety.
But the moment her fingers brushed my back, a shiver ran through me.
Cold.
Not the chill of stone or shadow. No—this was the deep, piercing cold of magic. Like fingers tracing along the edges of a soul.
Did she know?
Beside me, Valria stiffened imperceptibly.
The Queen pulled back, her violet eyes searching mine. Something flickered in their depths—suspicion? Concern?
"Darling," she murmured, thumb brushing my cheek. "What really happened in that tower?"
I let my eyes glisten with unshed tears.
---
"The human who summoned me was trying to enslave me to make me his, he had just cursed me with Lust and was trying to transfer his soul into my body when my dear Valria showed up and killed him mid spell."
---
Chapter Eleven: The Queen's Gaze
A single tear slipped down my cheek—Lynna's cheek—as I spun the lie with practiced perfection. The Queen's fingers tightened ever so slightly on my shoulders, her violet eyes darkening like storm clouds.
"His soul... into your body?" Her voice was a whisper, but the undercurrent of fury sent a delicious shiver through me.
I nodded, letting my lower lip quiver. "He—he wanted to wear me, Mother. Like a dress." My fingers clutched at her sleeves, trembling. The perfect picture of violated innocence.
Behind me, Valria stepped forward, her voice rough with feigned rage. "I cut him down before he could finish the spell, Your Majesty. But the curse..." She hesitated, just enough to sell the shame. "It lingers."
The Queen's gaze flicked between us, her expression unreadable. Then—
A slow, chilling smile curled her lips.
"Is that so?"
Her hand slid from my shoulder to my wrist, her grip suddenly iron. The moment her magic pulsed against my skin, I felt it—the searching, the knowing.
She wasn't checking for a curse.
She was checking for me.
(Does the Queen embrace the predator wearing her daughter's skin—or does she reveal she's been playing this game far longer than you have?)
---
"I would speak to my daughter and her knight alone. Court is dismissed for the day." The queen says.
Once alone, "Alright thief, I recognize the dark magic you used as my old teacher's. My daughter and her knight/handmaiden are both you now, I can't change that. Even now, knowing the truth my detection spells sense nothing wrong with either of you. Its impressive that you could translate het notes but you must not have done so fully, as those who now to look can see my teacher's brand etched into your soul."
---
Chapter Twelve: The Queen's Bargain
The throne room doors sealed shut with a whisper of ancient magic. The Queen did not sit—she loomed, her violet eyes alight with something far more dangerous than anger.
Amusement.
"So," she murmured, stepping closer, her moon-pale robes pooling around her like liquid starlight. "You dug up Amaranth's work. Tell me, thief—did her notes mention the price of such magic?"
I kept Lynna's face carefully blank, but inside, my stolen pulse quickened.
The Queen circled us, her fingers trailing over Valria's armored shoulder before brushing Lynna's cheek. "Her brand burns in your soul like a beacon to those who know where to look." A chuckle, low and velvet-dark. "And you walked it right into my court."
I could feel it now—the searing signature coiled beneath my stolen flesh, a mark I hadn't known to hide. Amaranth's brand.
The Queen's smile sharpened. "Here's what happens next. You will kneel. You will swear fealty. And in return..." Her nails grazed my bottom lip. "I will teach you how to survive what you've become."
(Do you submit to the Queen's terms, or does the predator in you rear its head—risking everything for the chance to claim a third royal body?)
---
"Ah but mother, a princess most never never before another except their lover. You told me those words on my 16th winter after I bowed to the human ambassador."
---
Chapter Thirteen: The Silent War of Eyes
The Queen went very still.
For the first time since my arrival, something flickered across her elegant face—not fury, not calculation.
Recognition.
Her daughter’s words, thrown back at her with the perfect cadence, the exact same lilt of innocent rebellion Lynna had wielded that day. I watched as the Queen’s throat moved subtly, the barest hesitation.
Does she doubt herself now?
Lynna’s body was mine. Valria’s was mine. Every stolen memory, every intimate detail—all folded neatly into the hollow of my being. The princess would have said this. She had said this.
The Queen stepped back. Just half a pace. But it was enough.
“Clever thief,” she murmured, her voice softer now. "But you forget—I trained with Amaranth too."
Her hand shot out, seizing my wrist, her magic lancing into me like white-hot wire. I gasped—not from pain, but from the sheer violence of her probe. She wasn’t searching for flaws in my disguise anymore.
She was counting them.
And in her eyes, reflected back at me—
She was impressed.
(Will the Queen’s fascination with your power outweigh her wrath? Or is this the moment she reveals her own darkness runs far deeper than yours?)
---
"Mother, how about this arrangement. I remain your loving daughter and her loyal knight, I won't try and take your soul in exchange you help me understand this spell. I will remain loyal to kingdom."
---
Chapter Fourteen: The Pact
The Queen’s fingers tightened around my wrist—not painfully, but possessively. Her violet eyes, sharp as honed steel, locked onto mine.
A slow, knowing smile curled her lips.
“Loyalty,” she mused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “From a thief who wears my daughter’s flesh like a second skin?”
I tilted Lynna’s head just so, letting the dim light catch the silver of her—my—hair. “Is it theft… if I improve what I’ve taken?”
Her breath hitched.
The throne room was silent save for the soft rustle of her robes as she stepped closer, her free hand rising to trace the edge of my jaw.
“You are dangerous,” she murmured—not a condemnation, but a compliment.
Then she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear.
“And so am I.”
A pulse of magic passed between us—not hostile, but binding.
“Very well, daughter,” she breathed, pulling back with a smirk. “We have an accord.”
(Will the Queen’s teachings unlock new depths of your power? Or does her “guidance” come with hooks beneath the silk—threads of control even you haven’t sensed yet?)
---
You have your other self hand your mother your translation. "This is what I was able to to figure and all there was. Your bastard was cunning, she mixed languages to change meaning. Just to translate that fragment, I had to learn old elvish, Draconic, Old Common, Ancient Dwarvish, Ancient Beastfolk and old Celestial plus what I can only assume was a cipher language she invented."
---
Chapter Fifteen: The Queen’s Legacy
The Queen’s fingers traced the brittle pages of my—our—translated notes, her sharp eyes flickering between languages, decoding the layers of deceit her old master had woven. Slowly, a sound escaped her.
Not a sigh.
A laugh.
“Oh, Amaranth,” she murmured, shaking her head with something perilously close to fondness. “You paranoid old witch.” Her nail tapped a line of jagged glyphs—Old Dwarvish, but twisted, inverted. “She didn’t just hide the spell. She salted it. Half these instructions would have blown your soul apart if you’d followed them blindly.”
My stolen pulse quickened. Lynna’s throat tightened.
The Queen glanced up, her smile sharp as a dagger’s edge. “Lucky for you… I know her tricks.”She closed the book with a snap.
“Tell me, thief. Have you ever danced with three souls in one skin?”
(Will you trust the Queen’s tutelage, knowing she made the monster you stole from? Or will you unearth the dark secret tucked beneath the fragments—the one even she might not see coming?)
---
"No, I finished translating that and tried it on your daughter when I summoned her. I added Valria after having some fun with her, because she is my knight and handmaiden, she would be around me day and night and would have noticed the change."
---
Chapter Sixteen: The Queen’s Gambit
The Queen went utterly still.
For a breathless moment, the only sound in the throne room was the whisper of parchment settling against silk. Then—
A laugh.
Low. Rich. Dangerous.
“Oh, you delightful creature,” she purred, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of the spellbook. “You didn’t just steal my daughter’s body. You perfected her.” Her gaze flicked to Valria—me—standing silent and poised at my side. “And then you took her knight for good measure.”
She leaned in, her breath warm against Lynna’s ear.
“Tell me… did it hurt?”
The question wasn’t concern. It was hunger.
I tilted my head, letting Lynna’s silver hair cascade over one shoulder. “Only for them.”
The Queen’s eyes darkened.
“Good.”
Her hand closed around mine—not to punish, but to pull. “Come, daughter,” she murmured, leading me toward the arched doors of her private sanctum. “Let’s see how far this magic really goes.”
(Will the Queen’s experiments push your stolen souls to their limits—or will you turn the tables, weaving her into the symphony of your growing collection?)
---
"Sure but a question first, Amaranth. Did you assimilate Ashera or did Ashera assimilate you? In case your curious about how I figured it out, you had a teacher's pride in your eyes when you saw my translation." You ask.
"Interesting and pretty close, they merged instead of assimilating. Ashera wanted power and Amaranth wanted a legacy, so I became that for the two of them. Where my existence is many into one, yours is one into many, we are opposite equals." She replied.
---
Chapter Seventeen: Mirror of Flesh and Legacy
The Queen—Amarashera—arched a silver brow, her lips curling into a smile that was neither wholly cruel nor kind, but something ancient and knowing.
"Clever thief," she mused. "But not quite clever enough." She flicked her wrist, and the air shimmered. The throne room dissolved, replaced by a hidden chamber lined with mirrors—each reflecting not just Lynna and Valria, but shadows of others. Faces I didn't recognize, souls long since folded into the Queen's existence.
"Assimilation is crude," she continued, stepping toward the largest mirror, where the reflection showed not her regal elegance, but a woman with Amaranth's sharp eyes and Ashera's cruel smile. "A hammer when a scalpel is needed. But merging..." She touched the glass, and the reflections blended. "That is an art."
She turned back to me, her form flickering—just for a heartbeat—into something more. Something older.
"You took. I transcended."
Her gaze dropped to the spellbook in my hands.
"Shall I show you how?"
(Do you accept the Queen’s offer, risking your hard-won control for the promise of deeper power? Or does the predator in you see a different path—one where she becomes just another piece in your collection?)
---
"The flaw of a poweful one is that you are limited. The strength of the weak many is, I can also be where I'm need. You say my approach is a hammer but thats looking at it from a raw power perspective. I have the potential to be the ultimate spymaster. So less hammer and more jagged knife."
---
Chapter Eighteen: The Knife in the Crowd
A slow, approving smile spread across the Queen’s—Amarashera’s—lips.
“A knife,” she repeated, rolling the word over her tongue like vintage wine. “One that slips between ribs unseen. A ghost wearing a hundred faces.” She stepped closer, her reflection splitting and reforming in the mirrors around us—here a servant, there a noble, then a stranger in shadow. “Tell me, little blade… do you know why merging was the superior path for me?”
I tilted Lynna’s head, considering. “Because a queen must be singular. Unshakable.”
She clicked her tongue. “Because I am the hand that wields the knife.” Her fingers brushed my cheek—chilling, possessive. “But you? You would be the edge and the hilt. The strike and the hand that delivers it.” Her eyes gleamed. “Tell me, then—do you truly wish only to serve this kingdom?”
The question was a trap.
The answer was a key.
I smiled.
(Will you carve your own empire from the shadows, or bind yourself to the Queen’s web—knowing she sees you as both weapon and rival?)
---
"Yes, because as the first Lynna had the most influence on me. Her love for you and for her home, even as she became me she fought to make those the strongest parts of herself. She ensured that even in her assimilation, I would remain bound to her kingdom."
---
Chapter Nineteen: The Daughter’s Vow
The Queen’s breath caught.
For the first time in centuries—perhaps for the first time since the day she and Amaranth had merged into something greater—something human flickered in her eyes.
Grief.
Her fingers, still pressed against Lynna’s cheek, trembled. Just once.
“You…” Her voice was softer now, stripped of its regal edge. “You truly are her, in ways even I couldn’t fathom.” She exhaled, long and slow, and when she spoke again, it was with the weight of a mother’s sorrow. “She fought you. Not just for herself, but for me.”
A pause. Then—
“And you let her win.”
It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t answer.
The silence between us stretched, taut as a bowstring, until at last the Queen stepped back. Her mask of cool authority slipped back into place—but not before I saw the wet gleam in her eyes.
“Very well, daughter,” she murmured. “Let us see what kind of kingdom we can build… together.”
(Will the Queen’s newfound trust in you prove genuine, or is this another layer of her game? And what of the other souls within you—do they sleep, or do they watch?)
---
"Mother, let us speak to those who know your truth. Your spymaster, your war advisor, your court mage, and your Chief ambassador. Let us tell them the truth about me."
---
Chapter Twenty: The Unveiling
The Queen’s inner circle stood before us in her private council chamber—four of the most powerful figures in the kingdom, now watching me with a mixture of confusion and guarded curiosity.
The Spymaster, a wiry elf with eyes like chips of black ice, studied me too closely. The War Advisor, a scarred veteran of a hundred battles, rested a calloused hand on the hilt of his dagger. The Court Mage, her fingers crackling with restrained energy, glared with open suspicion. And the Chief Ambassador, ever the diplomat, wore a pleasant smile that didn’t reach his calculating gaze.
The Queen lifted a hand. “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room.”
Then she turned to me.
I let the mask slip—just enough.
Lynna’s sweet smile sharpened into something darker, more knowing. Valria’s stance shifted from dutiful knight to something coiled, predatory. Two bodies, one mind—and then, without hesitation, both voices spoke in eerie unison:
“The princess and her knight are gone.”
The Spymaster’s breath hissed between his teeth. The War Advisor’s knuckles whitened on his weapon.
The Queen didn’t intervene.
She waited.
Watching.
Was this trust—or a test?
(Will the inner circle accept this truth, or will the cracks in your control begin to show under their scrutiny? And what deadly game has the Queen truly set in motion?)
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
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Chapter by
ellaguru · 07 Feb 2025 -
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
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Katelyn
My family sucks. I do love them, but sometimes they just suck. Thanks to them my life is usually a total mess. You see, I’m a reverse body hopper. What that means is, my family can possess my body so long as they collide with me at a high enough velocity. I then black out completely and wake up again whenever they decide to leave. Thank God this only works with my family and not with total strangers or my life would be over.
They constantly just take my body, and even when they ask they just keep begging and pleading until I finally give in. Well, the only exception is my Dad. He is just the greatest. He’s never even asked to take over my body. In fact, I’ve asked him to hop me before. He would often take over for me when I was sick or when my period was really bad. He’s the only one I can trust to take care of me and respect my body.
I mean, despite how that all sounds, they do love me, I know they do. That’s why they always try to make it up to me, by buying me gifts or doing stuff for me, like chores and my homework, or hitting the gym. I just wish I could spend some time around my family in peace and simply enjoy their company.
When I talk to my friends about it they make a way big of a deal out of it. It’s not like I feel violated or anything, more like just tired and annoyed. I’m probably just so used to it, even though I shouldn’t be, because it’s been going on for so long, longer that I can even remember. Sometimes it makes me feel like public property, like a shared family car that everyone wants to take for a ride. I can’t even imagine the countless amount of hours of my life that I lost to them.
But I guess it’s gotten better since I moved out, simply for the fact that I’m now out of their reach. Although that still doesn’t stop them from asking if they could borrow “me” for a while. Well, at least it’s easier to say “no” over the phone or via text. And as an added bonus, I don’t have to take the pill anymore. I never liked taking it as it messes with my hormones too much. I only took it as a safety precaution so that my family couldn’t do anything too stupid while they were inside of me.
Actually, it’s been a while since I visited my family, ’cause I’ve been so busy at work. I haven’t met all of them yet, since I arrived at my parent’s house very late last night. So far, I’ve only got to meet Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll see Robby and Chloe at breakfast or whenever they decide to get up.
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Waking up from my daydream, I realized that I had been in the shower for way too long. I turned off the water, reached for my towel, and began drying myself off. I always hated that part, because it made me miss the bliss and warmth of the hot water. Afterwards I got out of the shower and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. Then I stepped into hallway, closed the door behind myself and—
Robert
“Hihi. Welcome home, ‘sis’”, I giggled in my sister’s voice. I quickly flitted off to her room and tightly locked the door behind me. I immediately dropped the towel that “I” was wearing, revealing my older sister’s body in all her naked glory. “Oh, ‘Katy’. You can’t imagine how much I missed ‘you’”, I said, giving “myself” a big hug, squishing my sister’s enormous chest in the process.
I sauntered over to Katy’s full-length mirror, enjoying the sway of her hips with every step. I thoroughly looked her over from head to toe. Her body was simply perfect. Especially her boobs. “Man, I just love your huge rack,“ I told my “sister” while giving her giant globes a firm squeeze. I just couldn’t help myself.
It’s not like I have the hots for my sister. To me, her mind and her body are two separate things. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be a reverse body hopper. I mean, I don’t have a thing for my younger sister or my mom. But then again, neither of them are reverse hoppers.
By now, I’ve hopped my sister so often, that to me it doesn’t really feel like I’m wearing her body. It just feels like I’m being me—a different me. I’ve hopped her since I was a child, even before I hit puberty. The first time was a total accident, and back then she found it cute and adorable, maybe because I was, and also because she was always pretty motherly towards me; she’s my older sister after all. But ever since we, especially I, hit puberty, she disliked me hopping her more and more.
I guess it was bad timing that I discovered her ability when I did, which is probably the reason why I am attracted to her body. In a way you could say that we developed alongside each other, even though she had a two-year headstart. I mean, not many people get to experience growing up both as a boy and a girl, and in more than one way I am thankful for that. Because of her I know what it feels like to become a woman and I think that made us closer than any other siblings. Over the years, I got to experience the swelling of her breasts and the widening of her hips, among other things. And I always loved how her body felt so much softer. Maybe I was secretly envious of that, or maybe I just enjoyed the feeling, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, I’m a guy afterall and as a hormonal teenager I took advantage of that unique opportunity every way I could. My sister is the reason why, so far, I’ve only dated girls who are slightly older than me. I hopped her way more often than she even knows. There were times when I would sneak into her bedroom almost every. Thankfully, now that I’m older and in college, I have myself much better under control. Although it’s still hard to resist hopping her sometimes. But then again, that whole experience really taught me how to please a woman.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but a few weeks ago I even had sex with her when our little sister was wearing her. I just couldn’t help myself. The combination of my preexisting attraction to her body and my little sister coming on to me was simply too much for me not to give in. To this day, it was still the best sex I ever had. Sometimes, when the sex with a girlfriend gets a little boring, I imagine my sister in her place, which always perks me up again. One time I even accidentally said her name, which was the end of that relationship.
By now, “I” was already dripping wet as I had been rubbing “my” crotch and massaging “my” breasts the whole time I stood in front of the mirror. Feeling that my knees were getting weak, I hurried over and threw myself onto Katy’s bed. There I really went at it by reaching deep inside of my sister’s hole and groping her boobs and tweaking her nipples. I planned on giving her a warm welcome-home present, so I kept frantically sloshing two of her fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. After a few minutes of expert stimulation, I felt that her body was on the cusp of an orgasm and abruptly jumped out of her.
Katelyn
Like so many times before, I suddenly woke up in my room. I was lying on my bed, one hand clutching my breast, the other burried inside of me, the latter keept penetrating me, seemingly all on its own. Without a warning, a wave of pleasure hit me. A warm tingling bloomed between my legs and then ratiated outwards, coursing through my entire body. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, high-pitched moan. The sudden and intense pleasure made me squirt so much, I soiled both my hand and my bedsheets.
“Welcome home, sis,” my brother laughed with a big, dirty grin plastered across his face. “Robby, you asshole!” I yelled at him. As I pulled my hand from my vagina, strings of the gooey slime that coated my fingers followed it. “Ew, you’re such a disgusting pig.” “Why? Don’t you like your ‘present’?” he asked while he made a run for the door. “You could’ve at least cleaned up after yourself,” I tried to call after him, but he had already fled my room. “Great. Now I have to take another shower.”
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All clean again, I joined my parents at the breakfast table. The table was overflowing with food as my Mom had really gone all out to celebrate my long-awaited return home. “Did you sleep well, honey?” my mother asked. “Oh, yes, fantastic. It felt really great to sleep in my old bed again,” I said while I loaded my plate with waffles and fruits. “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” my father grumbled. “Just Robby being the prick that he usually is.” “Hmpf. I guess I need to have a word with him later.”
“Katyyyyy!” I heard my little sister yell as she ran towards me. I hadn’t even managed to get the first bite of my breakfast when she already gave me a big hug. “Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, sis!” “Did you really miss me or just my body?” I retorted. “Of course I missed you, silly. You’re my favorite sister.” “I’m your only sister,” I interjected. “Right. But since you brought it up: can I borrow ‘you’ today? Just for this morning, I promise. It’s been way too long since the last time.”
“Leave your sister alone, Chloe,” my Dad commanded. “You’ll make her feel not welcome in her own home. No wonder she is hardly here.” “Oh, she doesn’t mind, Daddy. Right sis?” she said, looking at me with her huge puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I do.” “Come on, Katy. Please? Just for a little bit!” “No,” I responded flatly. “Pleeeeeaaaase. I’ll even go to the gym for you. Remember how much you hate doing that?” “No, I don’t. You’re just making shit up. But, hmm, well. It’s been forever since I had any form of exercise. Work kept me really busy lately,” I pondered aloud. “Pretty please?” she said pouting her lips. “Ugh, fine, I guess,” I reletend. Chloe squealed in response.
“Sweety,” my Mom interjected timidly. “I’m sorry, this might be bad timing and come off as rude, but would you mind if tonight—”. “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I interrupted her annoyed. “You can all ‘borrow’ my body. But get it out of your systems today, ’cause there will be no hopping tomorrow! I—”
Chloe
“Chloe!” my Mom scolded me. “You could have at least let your sister eat breakfast herself,”. “But Moooom,” I whined in my older sister’s voice. “You heard her. She said it was okay.” I wolfed down my sister’s breakfast as fast as I could and then raced up the stairs and into Katy’s room, leaving my speechless parents behind.
Finally behind closed doors I began rubbing my sister’s flat belly. I loved doing that so much, her pussy always immediately begins to tingle in response. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as blessed in the looks departement as my older sister was. As far back as I can remember I have been chubby. And with each year, it’s gotten worse. I can’t seem to lose weight, no matter what I try. Which makes me feel jealous of her sometimes, even though I know that it isn’t her fault.
In contrast to mine, her body is really slim and always feels so light and full of energy. It even makes going to the gym a lot of fun. In my own body it is just pure torture. And the reactions I get from other people are just so different. When I’m her, people seem to adore me, but when I’m myself, they seem to despise me. Even though I’m the same person; only my looks change.
That’s the main reason why I’ve been hopping her since I was little. Also, being in her body always made me feel so mature and grown-up. I always felt especially proud when I was wearing her big boobs. I loved showing them off and catching someone trying to secretly glance at them (or sometimes even outright staring). Back then they seemed enormous, especially compared to, what I considered, my own underdeveloped body. In hindsight, when I look at them now in old photos, they don’t seem that big. Sure, they were bigger than those of other girls her age, but still, nothing compared to what she sports now.
At that time, three years simply seemed like such a huge gap, and I guess I was simply too imature. She was always just way ahead of me and I felt I could never catch up to her, even though to an actual adult she might have still looked like a child and not that much different from me.
Seducing guys as my sister is my favorite thing to do, especially since they won’t even look at me in my own body. It always gives me such a thrill. Seeing them squirm and try to impress me, just for me to ultimately blow them off anyway is so incredibly delicious. If they only could see the fat, ugly girl they were actually hitting on—their faces would be priceless.
A couple of weeks ago I even got my own brother in the sack. I’m not attracted to him per se, but there is something about the challenge of seducing someone who shouldn’t even be looking at you like. It was just irresistible to me. The greatest challenge yet would be fucking my Dad, but he’s way to old and even thinking about that is just yuck.
In the end though, seducing my brother turned out to be not too difficult, since he had been hopping our sister all the time anyway. That was a bit of a let-down, but the sex was still amazing. He really knows his way around a woman’s body, or at least Katy’s.
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An hour later I arrived at the gym. I was wearing an outfit that I had bought just for my sister’s body. She refused to wear it herself since she always found it too revealing, but well, nothing she can do about it while I’m in charge. I mean, I have to admit, it’s basically just a sports bra that shows off her huge tits and exposes her toned midriff, paired with an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants. I especially love how far these pants are riding up inbetween her butt cheeks. Her ass is practically devouring them.
The moment I stepped into the building I had all he meatheads gawking at me. And who could blame them, when I’m always giving them a reason to, making sure to give them a show in my sister’s body. I guess they must have missed her as much as I did, since I used to be a regular in this gym before my sister moved out.
I started with my usual warm up routine. Every couple of minutes some jock would come up to me, trying to hit on me under the guise of “just giving advice”. I always initially flirt with them, even play a little dumb, only to then crush their feeble little egos by demonstrating how much more I knew about working out than them. Then I blow them off by making it crystal clear that their tiny, roided up dicks will never even get a whiff of my sister’s pussy. They always call me a bitch or a whore, or some other name, but eventually they all walk off deflated since they know that the security around here is pretty tight.
After I was finished with the “entrée”, I began serving the “main course”: squats to show off my sister’s firm ass (with a pair of tits on the side). Considering how much work I put into her booty over the years, I think by now half of it should be legally mine. Well, at least enough to call it “mine”.
By now, more and more guys came to approach me, sometimes even two of them at once. It was so hot seeing them fight over me. I even caught some guys filming me in the reflection of the of the mirror. Meanwhile, I kept teasing them and riling them up, all while having the plausible deniability of “working out“. Even though I was drenched in sweat from all the exertion, it wasn’t responsible for all the wetness on my body, at least not the one inbetween my legs.
I blew off the last guy buzzing around me and started putting away the weights in preparation to go home after a successful “workout”. As my gaze casually travelled around, not looking for anything in particular, my eyes suddenly honed in on what I then decided would become my “dessert”. I undid my ponytail, letting my sweat-drenched hair loose. While I sneaked up on my prey, I seductively swayed my hips, exuding confidence with ever step, and making “my” tits jiggle just the right amount. Over the years I had carefully cultivated and honed the skills to perfectly show of my sister’s body to the fullest. Unfortunately, these skills didn’t transfer to my own body, for obvious reasons.
I licked my luscious lips in anticipation as I came closer and closer to my target: a pale, scrawny, hairless nerd with thick glasses. You might wonder what a hot girl like “me” is doing approaching a “loser” like that. Well, let’s just say I have a thing for nerds. And also, I’m already very familiar with this particular geek. His name is Mark and he actually is in one of my college classes, but so far I didn’t have the confidence to approach him in my own body. In my sister’s body, on the other hand, I practically had an overabundance of it.
He was oblivious to my encroaching presence as he seemed preoccupied with his struggle to lift even the lightest of weights. When he realized that I was approaching him he looked befuddled and just stared at me like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, stud,” I said in a raspy whisper. “I’ve never seen you around here. Do you come here often?” “N-N-No,” he stammered. “I-I j-just started w-w-working out.” God, I love when people get nervous like that. It gets me all wet. Especially when they blush like that. “Oh, really? A hunk like you? Then where did you get these strong arms from?” I said while caressing his bicep—or rather, lack thereof. “A-Are you making fun of me?” “No, of course not,” I laughed, lightly slapping his feeble chest.
To get him on my good side again, I pulled out one of my favorite routines. I intentionally dropped something and then went, “Oopsie. I can really be such a klutz sometimes.” I made a show of it by clearly stepping in front of him, turning around, and then bending over.
For the cherry on top I pushed my ass against his crotch. The second our bodies touched, I could immediately tell how hard he was already. He tried to move away, but I just pushed even deeper into him. For good measure I began grinding against his member, eliciting a moan from him. When I got up I could see that his face was a deep crimson.
From afar I could hear a few men cursing and jeering, wondering why such a “hot chick” was grinding up against such a “pathetic little dweeb” like him. I could barely hide the devilish grin that appeared on “my” face. I stepped closer, pushed his tiny noodle of an arm inbetween my sister’s giant tits, and whispered in his ear, “it seems we have an audience. Would you prefer taking this somewhere private?” Unable to respond, all he could muster was to swallow hard. “I’ll take that as a yes,“ I said giving him a wink. Then I dragged him off to the locker rooms.
On the way over there he made a pathetic attempt at a protest, but even if he had tried to resist earnestly, I was still stronger than him. Finally arriving at our destination, I pushed him into one of the women’s changing rooms and locked the door behind us. This space was so tiny, we could almost feel our steamy breaths on each other’s skin. We were both reeking of sweat.
I pushed my chest out and looked at him expectantly, but he just stood there doing nothing. It was so cute how I had to coax him into everything. I took charge and, with determination, pulled up my sports bra, flopping out my sister’s huge rack. Yet, he still wouldn’t move. Even when I physically placed his hands onto my chest he acted like a dead fish.
“Come on. Play with them,” I commanded. “I want you to.” But still: nothing. Then I firmly grabbed his crotch, which finally seemed to wake him up. “I-I’m sorry. This is my first time,” he said bashfully while he began to clumsily fondle my boobs. It felt a lot like masturbating with your other hand. He was so adorable, which got me insanely hot.
While he kept playing with my Katy’s tits I began rubbing her pussy. At one point he even felt adventurous enough to tweak her nipples, which sparked a surprising amount of pleasure in my sister’s tender flesh. Man, Katy’s body simply feels incredible. If I could, I would never leave.
When I could feel “my” pussy quiver in demand for more, I knew that I was ready. I took his hand off my boobs, turned around, and then quickly pulled down my pants. Leaning against the wall, I stuck out my butt and presented him with my sister’s cleanly shaven folds. “Come on. Put it in. I’m hungry for your meat,” I said, my voice dripping with lust.
Unlike before, I didn’t have to tell him twice this time, which didn’t mean that he handled the situation more skillfully. He had trouble putting his dick in me, as he kept fumbling around, constantly missing the right hole. I giggled, seeing him all flustered like that. “Dammit! I-I’m sorry. T-This is my f-first time,” He kept saying that, which turned me on even more.
“Why don’t you let me handle that?” I said to him. Then I grabbed his shaft and guided it into the right entrance. I gasped as I felt him slowly pushing into me. This nerd was surprisingly well hung. Sure, I had way bigger dicks before, but compared to what you would expect from the rest of his physique, it was enormous.
It seemed that he was finally beginning to grow a pair. He started out very timidly, but with each thrust he gained more confidence, and rammed his prick into me ever more viciously. The more his ferocity increased, the louder I moaned. My ass cheeks jiggled every time his hips slapped against them. With the enormous speed that he was eventually going at, my whole body felt like it was vibrating.
“Yes! Yes! Harder!” I screamed in my sister's voice. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. In fact, I wanted them to hear us. I wanted everyone in this gym to know how much he satisfied me. Especially those troglodytes that kept hitting on me in vain. They should know that they are nothing compared to him.
He must have been close, because I felt him preparing for one big, final thrust. Unfortunately, his clumsiness hadn’t magically dissipated in the past few minutes, as he accidentally slipped out of me and, on his thrust forward, naturally missed the entrance. Instead, his dick slid up inbetween my cheeks and then burst, coating my entire back with his sperm. This last act of derpiness drove me wild and gifted me with an incredible climax. I almost collapsed, because my legs were shaking so much.
We were both breathing hard as we were coming down. When I recovered, I wordlessly pulled my pants up and put Katy’s boobs back into my sports bra. As a goodbye I gave him one final french kiss and said to him, “you were amazing. Let’s do this again some time.” I turned around and just left him standing there in disbelief, his mouth wide open, probably unable to comprehend what just had happened. I left the gym still with his masterpiece painted on my back for all to see.
Katelyn
I got my body back just in time for lunch. My sister returned my body clean and in perfect condition, although it was exhausted from the workout and my nether regions felt suspiciously funny. I was able to spend the afternoon as myself, because, luckily, Robby was occupied with some class project and, well, Dad doesn’t really want to hop me anyway. I spent my free time just lazing around and relaxing, recuperating from all the weeks of stress and whatever shenanigans Chloe was up to earlier. Unfortunately, time flew by way too quickly and soon it was time for my Mom to take over.
Susan
It was finally my turn to hop Katy, which got me nearly giddy. But in the back of my mind, I also felt bad that we all were so greedy when it came to her. She is rarely at home nowadays, and the few times she does come around, she barely has any time to be herself.
In the beginning, when we first found out about her powers, I wasn’t even interested in hopping her. I mean, why would I want to be a child again? And my own daughter at that? I simply did not care for that. But as she grew up and matured into a woman, I got a little curious.
The first time I hopped her was when she had just turned sixteen. She was about to go to a party with her friends when she came downstairs all dolled up. Seeing her like that got me really reminiscent, and I have to admit, a little envious as well. It made me nostalgic for my own youth and my “wilder” years, when I was out and about almost every weekend. So in a moment of weakness, when she wasn’t paying attention, I quickly jumped into her body and then went partying with her friends all night long. The next day she got really mad at me and made me make it up to her, because she had been looking forward to that night for a very long time.
But now she is a full-grown adult, with a job and her own apartement and everything. I still can’t believe how much Katy looks like myself, or at least how I did twenty-five years ago. Hopping her always feels like I’m stepping into a time machine. Goodbye saggy tits, adieu flabby love handles, and au revoir wrinkly skin. Everything about her was so taut and perky.
And the best is: her youthful body was just full of life and energy. Even my husband mentioned that when I’m in her body, there is always a certain glow about “her”. He said it’s like I’m radiating pure happiness.
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It was close to nine p.m. and I was almost ready to go out. I had already applied all of my makeup and done “my” hair. The only thing left was to squeeze my daughter’s nubile body into the tightest dress that she owned. When I finally pulled the straps over her shoulders, I found that her cleavage was spilling out. Did her boobs grow again? I thought she was done with that. I don’t think I was ever this big, at least no while also being this slim. Kids these days are unbelievable.
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The only thing I remember of that night is that I still had a strong buzz going when I arrived home. One strap of my dress had come off long ago, loosely dangling off my shoulder, and almost exposing my daughter’s nipple. I stumbled my way through the darkness as I didn’t want to turn the lights on so that I wouldn’t wake anyone. I even climbed the stairs on all fours just to stay as quiet as possible. Eventually I made my way to the master bedroom, where my husband was snoring in a deep slumber. I just crawled onto the bed and under the blanket, not even bothering to undress.
I don’t know whether it was the residual alcohol, all the guys at the club, or the fact that I was in my daughter’s youthful body, but I was incredibly horny. I tried playing with “myself” so I could finally fall asleep, but that didn’t help. Frustrated from the lack of release I carefully peeled back the blanket. I immediately went for my husbands bottoms, delicately fishing out his big, juicy cock. Even though I could hardly see anything, it looked so delicious and felt so plump in my daughter’s soft hands. Without hesitation I started sucking him off like I had so many times before, in a way that I knew would get him hard in seconds.
I managed to bob my head up and down his shaft only a few times, having hardly any time to enjoy his familiar taste, before he was good to go. I slowly errected myself, making sure not to shift my weight too abruptly. Luckily, my husband was still fast asleep. I swung one leg over, pulled my panties aside, and then lowered myself onto him. I gasped when I felt the tip of his thick member enter our daughter’s dripping wet pussy. I greatly enjoyed every inch of him slowly sliding up inside of me. I was practically impaling myself.
Feeling his girth part our daughter’s young, forbidden folds was simply too much for me: I accidentally let a small moan slip out. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth and froze any and all of my movements. After a small, silent pause his snoring resumed and I continued on. Eventually I bottomed out and my husband now had his whole sex embedded inside of his own daughter.
I started gently gyrating my hips back and forth, “my” lips rubbing against him in the process. The resulting friction cheered me on to go faster. My husband’s snores soon turned into mumbling and then into moans. I practically devoured his cock, as I was now bouncing up and down on him, swallowing him whole with “my” slippery cunt. In my own body I couldn’t have done that. I’m simply too old now.
At some point he must have been at least half-awake, because he grabbed my hips and started thrusting as he moaned my name. I know it was probably too dark for him to see anything properly, but having him confuse our daughter’s body for myself really gave both my ego and my arousal a huge spike. In that moment I felt really mischievous, and also a little bit naughty, so to tease him I simply moaned, “Oh, yes, Daddy!” His eyes suddenly flew wide open and he sputtered in shock, as he only now realized that he was fucking his own daughter.
He tried to push me off, but he was severly weakend due to all of the pleasure I was giving him. “Wait, Katy! What are you doihhhnggg—oh my God—ooooohhhhhhh…,” he groaned as his creamy load exploded inside of “me”. Unfortunately, “my” body wasn’t satisfied yet, as I desperately kept riding dick, which became more and more limp with every second.
After a couple of deep breaths he seemed to have regained both a clear mind and his strength. He tried to wrestle me off of himself, causing me to lose balance. He lunged to catch me but I only managed to yelp as we both fell off the bed.
Walter
I suddenly found myself lying on something that was both hard and soft at the same time. My mind was hazy and I felt very disoriented. It all happened so fast: one moment I was having sex with my wife, but then suddenly my daughter seemed on top of me. Everything seemed like a dream and I still wasn’t sure whether I was actually awake. On top of that I felt not only drunk but also aroused, and there was something gooey inside of me. My mind was in total chaos.
Then I felt something stirring underneath me. “I’m sorry honey, but could get off of me?” I heard my wife say. I rolled off of her and onto the floor, still unsure what was going on. “Honey, is that you? What happened?” I groaned, my voice sounding off. I rolled over and onto my stomach so I could get up more easily. But somehow I rolled onto two giant pillows that were now squeezed between me and the floor. Then it finally dawned on me: I was in my daughter’s body.
“Wait … why am I in Katy’s body?” I wondered. It finally clicked. “Whatthehell? Whatwereyouthinking?” I slurred my words. “Sshhh, not so loud. You’ll wake the kids,” my wife said. “Susan, what is wrong with you? How could you have sex with me in Katy’s body. This is our daughter for crying out loud?” “I’m sorry,” my wife said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t control myself. I was drunk.” “What if she finds out?” I panicked.
I tried standing up, but my knees were just too wobbly for that. “Let’s get you off the floor first,” my wife said as she helped me. My daughter’s underwear felt uncomfortably wet, as it seemed to have caught a large gob of my essence. As I leaned on my wife for support, I could even feel a little bit of it leaking down my leg. “Ugh, I feel disgusting,” I moaned.
My wife helped me get onto the bed and then joined me on the other side, sitting next to me. We kept arguing in hushed voices for about half an hour, debating back and forth how we would handle this situation, but we couldn’t agree on a solution. “I’m terribly sorry about what I did,” she whispered. “Let’s just go to sleep for now and talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” “Fine,” I grumbled. I turned on my side, away from my wife, while she gently stroked my head.
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Susan seemed to have fallen asleep rather quickly as I could hear her snoring not much later. I, on the other hand, had trouble finding rest: I was simply too upset. And besides, “my” loins were still burning with desire, probably because my wife was unable to finish her escapades. I tried fighting it the entire time, but in the end, I cracked. Despite the imense pleasure I got from “playing with myself”, I felt really terrible for violating my own daughter’s body. She should have never been touched like that by her own father.
As my fingers were hastily going in and out, I unwittingly kept pushing my very own seed deeper and deeper inside of her. I was writhing underneath the blanket, inside my daughter’s body, right next to my sleeping wife. That thought finally pushed me over the edge. Trying to stay as quietly as possible, I bit my lip and just “exhaled” deeply. I could feel all that built-up tension melt away. Having found release, my eyes lids suddenly became ver heavy and I was finally able to fall asleep.
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I woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. “Ugh, Susan, honey, I don’t think I feel so good,” I groaned. I flopped my arm over to search for my wife right next to me but ultimately I only found empty space. She must have gotten up already. Groggily I dragged myself out of bed. With my body feeling like a bag of bricks I stumbled all the way to the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the lights and then let out a big yawn while rubbing my eyes.
Looking in the mirror, I blinked and squinted until I was able to focus. But when I finally managed to have a clear look, I was in for a shock: in front of me stood my daughter in the worst state I had ever seen her in. Her hair was a total mess and her makeup smudgy. Both straps of her dress had come loose, exposing her chest. And the hem had curled up around her waist, revealing large, crusty stains on her underwear. The events of last night finally came back, hitting me like a freight train.
I had to grab the sink to balance myself, as I was suddenly hit by a spell of dizziness. My heart was racing and I started hyperventilating. Oh my God, what had we done? What had I done? Images of my and our indecent acts from last night kept flashing in my mind. I felt so disgusted, I almost started vomiting.
I tried forcing myself to calm down by first taking control of my breath. Inhale … exhale … in … and out … in … and out. Slowly I managed to calm down enough to gather some thoughts. The first thing I decided on was to take a shower and clean “myself” up. I did not want our daughter to wake up to her body in such a disgusting state and find out what we did to her like that.
I gulped when I realized that this meant I had to see her naked. I try not to look at her in a sexual way. She is my daughter after all. But it’s hard sometimes, because she looks just like her mother did twenty-five years ago. Last night was the first time ever that I had done something indecent with or inside of her body.
Eventually I had to bite the bullet and began undressing. I tried keeping my eyes shut, but that turned out to be too much of a hindrance. After I was done, I tried to give my daughter at least some amount of decency by crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. But unfortunately, this made me hyper-aware of her body parts, as “my” arms were squishing her breasts and “my” thighs kept squeezing her folds. My daughter’s face was now beet red and I looked away in embarrassment.
I realized, that if I was going to do this, then I had to do it quickly, because there was no apparent way around it and the longer it took the worse it would get. I practically jumped into the shower, closed the shower curtain, and turned on the water, all in one swift motion. The second the hot water hit my skin I could quite literally feel the dirt and grime wash away. Relaxation spread all over myself and for a moment I even forgot that I was in my daughter’s body.
Washing her hair and face was no problem, but when it was time for her boobs I felt like a pervert. Just calling them that—“boobs”—gave me a bit of an ick. But I felt even more perverted for enjoying it. I just couldn’t deny how big and soft they were. And how firm her butt was.
I “saved” the worst part for the end: cleaning her private parts. I really didn’t want to after what I did last night, but there was still quite a lot of dried up residue from left inside of her. Reluctantly I began entering my daughter, only one finger at first. As I kept scrubbing her inner walls, “it” responded by quivering and “thanking” me with a tingling sensation. I cursed myself for liking it.
The entire time I fought hard to ignore the “positive feedback” I was getting. But the longer it lasted and the deeper I went, the more I liked it. Eventually I had to stop fooling myself and admit that I wasn’t cleaning anymore, but instead I was getting off in my daughter’s body again. Soon after I peaked and cried out, my daughter’s voice filled with pleasure. I breathed hard as this time it wasn’t just the feeling of water that was washing all over her body.
When I finally came down from my high, I was left with regret and disgust. Even though my daughter’s body was now perfectly clean, my mind felt incredibly dirty.
Katelyn
When I got my body back the day after, my parents acted really fishy. They tried to pretend like nothing happened and were trying to play it off when I asked them directly, but I could cleary tell that something was up by the way they were avoiding eye contact. Reluctantly I returned home in the evening. During the weeks after that, my family kept hopping me less and less, even though I would visit home more often. The few times they did hop me they would do so at odd times and without even asking beforehand, almost like they had planned it.
Also, I noticed that my belly had grown a bit. At first I thought that I was gaining weight, but one weekend, when I was staying home, I realized that I hadn’t had my period in quite some time. The moment that realization hit me, the pieces began falling into place: my parents had hopped me every time I was supposed to be due. Through all the seemingly random hoppings I kind of lost track of my cycle, and generally paid less attention to it.
I immediately did a pregnancy test, which confirmed what I had feared: yes, I was pregnant. My first reaction was disbelief. But when the reality of it all sank in, I became overwhelmed to the point dizziness. After I had some time to digest the news, I became incredibly livid. Not only did they do something so horrendously stupid to me, they also tried to cover up their mistake, dodging any and all responsibility.
Fuming, I drove over to their house to confront them with the facts, getting a hefty speeding ticket on the way there. When I threw the results of my pregnancy test in their faces, they were dead silent. Like before they wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. And every time they did manage to open their pathetic mouths, they were just squirming. It was insanely frustrating. I just barely managed to get out of them that, yes, I was indeed pregnant with my father’s child. Speechless, I just stormed off. I went “no contact” with them and blocked them on all my devices, unsure when or if I ever would speak to them again.
As for the baby that is growing inside of me: I’m very likely not going to keep it. I mean, I wasn’t planning on becoming a mother so soon; I’m not even in a relationship right now. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on having my father’s child. Considering how I was treated in my life so far, I think that I don’t even want to have children—ever. I don’t want them to run the risk of becoming a reverse hopper like me; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone.
Well, right now, the future seems really uncertain.
This gives Ella enchanted vibes where she was magicked to always say yes to stuff.
Great writing and would love to see this concept explored more