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Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
masturbation possession m2f
by
Haxxare
· 17 Dec 2021
Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
masturbation
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Matt stumbles upon a ring that lets him possess people.
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
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Yuna, Rikku and Paine stumble upon an interesting sphere, not knowing that it is a lot more than they bargained for...
"Look! There it is!" exclaimed Yuna, pointing at a tiny glowing orange sphere nestled tight in the forehead of an odd metal statue. Problem was, said statue was embedded in a cliff face, and it was pretty high up."So how do we get there?" asked Paine in her matter-of-fact tone."Oh, I got this!" Rikku replied. "I'll climb it!"Not waiting for any sort of confirmation, Rikku immediately ran, and jumped off the bridge at the cliff. Then, she dexterously climbed her way across, until she was underneath the statue."Be careful!" called Yuna, concern in her voice.Rikku did not respond, but rather climbed up. In a matter of minutes she was level with the statue. It was old and worn, about twice the size of her fist, in the shape of a man's head. She didn't recognize who it was, but that wasn't what they were there for. The sphere, however, was.Rikku grabbed it, feeling a slight jolt of electricity run through her hand as she touched it. "Yow!" she recoiled, hanging on with one hand as she shook the other. "It's trapped!" Reaching behind her and unhooking one of her daggers, Rikku tried to lever it out. Eventually she succeeded, the sphere popping out with a satisfying thunk. She barely managed to catch it in her palm.Perfect."I got it!" she exclaimed in triumph, pumping her fist... as her handhold crumbled and she fell down the side of the cliff, into the river, screaming.With a large splash, she collided with the water. She quickly gathered herself, swam to the shore, and rejoined her companions. "Told you I got this!" she grinned, showing off the sphere in her hand. "Now can we go back? I'm freezing!"I watched as the three girls left the river.
______________________________
"So what do you say, fellas? Good enough?" I asked. "Seriously dude? Girls?" complained Denys. "Look - we're running out of time, and beggars can't be choosers." I said. Denys only grumbled."Was that Yuna? As in, Summoner Yuna?" Rioc said, his voice betraying his excitement. "Ooh, that's exciting!""At least someone's on board." I said. Truth was, we didn't have much choice anyway.See, we weren't really alive. We weren't Fayth, or Pyreflies or anything like that. Most of that had perished when that very same Yuna and her friends had defeated Sin for good. No, we were something else. It was hard to explain. We were normal humans, long ago. then, Sin... happened to our home, and we died. Except not entirely - our flesh was dead, but through whatever perverse magic that kept Sin coming back... we came back too. And we stayed. We couldn't be Sent - we had tried numerous times, wanting to be freed. Instead, we had roamed the earth, still physical but not really alive, until Sin died. By then, we had gotten used to this 'living'. With Sin gone, we had to find another way.This was our way.
______________________________
"So how do we decide who gets who?" I asked."I can't believe you're forcing me into this" Denys pouted. "No one's forcing you into anything!" I retorted. "Would you rather just disappear after so long?"Denys had nothing to say. Instead, he grunted and turned around. Rioc, however, had a grin on his face. "So I take it you're not entirely upset with the situation" I asked, turning to face him. "So who is it?" I winked. "I wanna be famous!" Rioc exclaimed. "I want Yuna!"Rioc had been only fourteen or so when he had died - a good half decade younger than Denys or myself. Despite it having been a couple of centuries, some of his childish mannerisms persisted."That's it then, isn't it?" Denys asked. "Why even bother asking?""So she's not your type?" I teased. Denys grunted again, for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, and walked off.What Denys meant was the sphere. It was imbued with a huge amount of Sin's magic - and it was the thing that kept us around after Sin's demise. As the one who had set the magic into the sphere in the first place, I was most tightly bound to it.That meant, that I would be the one to infiltrate the girls' ship through the sphere. And I would be forced to take over the body of whoever had imprinted the most on the sphere. That meant, I had to make do with Rikku.And make do I would.
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"Why was that water so cold!?" Rikku complained. "Why'd you have to go and fall in?" Paine retorted."Well you weren't exactly volunteering to get the sphere, were you?""Can we chill out please?" Yuna interjected. "We got the sphere, after all!""I'm chill - I'm too chill" Rikku said with a laugh, wrapping her towel around herself. Yuna giggled. "Well at least your sense of humor is intact! We should get some rest, it's been a long day."After a few more minutes of idle chatter, the girls each retreated to their rooms. Later that night, Rikku saw what looked like Pyreflies circling around. "Hmm?" she mused. "Where did you come from?" She stepped towards them, and they retreated. Following, she found them in the storage room - floating around the sphere she had picked up earlier that day."Does this mean that we actually found something valuable?" Rikku thought.From within the orange sphere, my consciousness stirred. For the first time, I saw my quarry in detail. Rikku was short and petite. Her blonde hair was done up in a bit of a messy ponytail, with long thin braids down the side of her head. Surprisingly, even at this hour, she was still dressed for action. In her case that meant a blue bandanna, a yellow bra, matching scarf and billowy white sleeves that didn't even connect, leaving her shoulders and belly completely bare - not to mention giving anyone who wanted a nice look at the shape of her modest boobs. Below the waist she wasn't dressed much more than that - a short brown skirt that barely went below her ass, and short lace-up boots. "Pick me up..." I whispered from the sphere. Rikku, did not show any sign of hearing me, but I knew she had. As expected, she picked up the sphere, and took it to her room. She was mine.Rikku sat on the bed, idly playing with the sphere. She held it in front of her face, staring at it intently. Now was my time. The sphere glowed, and Rikku continued to stare, as if entranced. My consciousness flowed from the sphere into her hand.Even as my essence left the sphere, its light dimming ever so slightly, Rikku did not notice. She held it, mesmerized, as I continued to get myself set up. I had infiltrated her arm, half her torso and one of her legs, and she was none the wiser. Then again she had no reason to be. If she tried to move them, they would still respond.It did not take me long to completely leave the sphere behind. It's glow ceased, and Rikku seemed to snap out of her trance. But it was too late. With one effortless thought, I asserted myself as the dominant being in her body.Immediately, a barrage of sensations assaulted my new senses. While before everything was dull, now it was bright. The air on my skin. The soft sheets on my back and my legs. Even just the sensation of breathing, as I let out a content, feminine sigh.Then, I looked down and admired my new body. I touched my midriff with my slender fingers, and marveled at how nice it felt. I hadn't felt touch like this in so long, and had forgotten what it was like. My hands moved up, and touched my bra. I'd also never had boobs before...Curiosity getting the better of me, the bra and other few meager clothing items on my upper body were soon discarded, and I gazed at my chest. A feeling stirred within that I could not describe, and lewd thoughts began to run through my mind.The sphere needed some time to charge before I could use it to bring one of my friends into it, so I did have time to kill. And it would be a shame if I were to get distracted tomorrow by any new sensations, and raise suspicion that Rikku wasn't herself anymore...That night was the most amazing in my recent memory, with my hands exploring - in painstaking detail - every inch and sensation of my new body.
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I woke very early, as the sun was only rising. I quickly did a once-over of my new body, mentally reliving last night's session of getting acquainted with my new self. It almost made me want to uh... confirm the results, but I had bigger things to do.I picked up the sphere, now brighter than last night but still dull, from the bed stand where I had left it yesterday. A whispered word or two began the process. I watched as the intensity increased, but taking on a purplish hue instead of the orange it was before.So Rioc had primed himself next. I had to go find Yuna.Quickly putting on the few clothes Rikku had available, I took the sphere and went to the next room. As luck would have it, it was Yuna's.It was still far too early for anyone sane to be about, so I snuck into the room as quietly as I could. Yuna was asleep, face up, and lightly snoring. One of her hands had fallen out from under the blanket. Excellent. I put the sphere in her hand and closed it. Now, she was locked in for Rioc."Rikku?" Yuna asked. "What are you doing?""Good morning!" I said chirpily. "I noticed something with the sphere from yesterday, and had to show you right away!""But... what time is it?" Yuna asked, yawning."Dunno, I couldn't sleep." I replied. "Check it out!"Yuna took the hand with the sphere, and looked at it."Wasn't it orange yesterday?" she asked. "Yup! That's what I wanted to show you!""Huh..." she brought it closer to her face, and it started glowing. I stood back and watched with interest.There wasn't much to watch, unfortunately, as Yuna continued to stare at the sphere, mesmerized, as the brightness faded. Then she blinked, and her eyes went wide."Whoa!" she said, out of character and louder than expected. I was sure it was Rioc, but I had to play it safe just in case."Shh, keep it down, Yuna!" I whispered. Yuna's hand went to her mouth, touched her lips... and then she broke out into a grin."This is sweet!" she whispered, eyes wide with excitement. She threw off the blanket, revealing that unlike Rikku, Yuna at least had more standard sleeping clothes - a semi-transparent blue nightgown that went just below her waist. Yuna stood up - she was a little taller than me - and admired herself. She looked at her hands, down at her body, lifted her legs one at a time as she turned around to check out her own ass..."Dude, I'm actually Yuna!" she whispered."Of course you are!" I smiled, before giggling a little. "What now?" she asked - but she was a little fidgety."Well we need to wait for the sphere to recharge, and we need to wait for Denys to prime it." "Oh. " she said, looking a little disappointed."What's up?" I asked."Well... wait does that mean we have nothing to do for now?" her eyes lit up. I nodded, and I saw a perverted grin form on her face.With one swift motion, Yuna took off her nightgown, revealing a matching set of blue bra and panties. She cupped her boobs, moaning a little as she did so. Then, she stepped right next to me and cupped mine."I think mine are bigger..." she breathed in my ear. "Want to check?"A shiver went down my spine as she reached around and unclasped my bra, and pressed herself against me. I felt her bare skin touch mine, and she pulled me in so I couldn't escape. Not that I even wanted to.I returned the favor and undid her bra, the two now hanging in place only by virtue of us pressing so close against each other. That didn't last long as they were quickly thrown away, leaving the two of us completely topless in our embrace.The rest of the early morning was spent with Yuna - and me - getting very intimately acquainted with our - and each other's new bodies.
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"What the hell is going on?!" a loud voice yelled, waking both Yuna and me.Paine stood over the bed, with a look of anger and disgust on her face. She was already fully clothed, and pissed. On her were many belts - which were around her waist, hanging around her shorts, and around her otherwise bare midriff, what looked to be suspenders and garters keeping thigh-high black tights in place, as well as what appeared to be a black shawl over her chest, and black elbow-length gloves over her crossed hands. Meanwhile, blankets were strewn all round, covering the two girls still on the bed, but not leaving any question as to their prior activities."What do you mean?" Yuna said in a small voice."I mean this! You two are cousins for crying out loud!" Paine yelled. Yuna went red, and grinned."Um... oh..." she stuttered, shaking her head. "Whatever, I'm out. I can't do this." Paine said, before turning around.Yuna and I shared a glance, before looking at the inconspicuous green sphere on the bedside. I grabbed the sphere, while Yuna tackled Paine to the ground."Get... off!" Paine yelled, trying to shove Yuna off. I leapt in, Denys's sphere in hand, and grabbed Paine around her waist. Soon, one of her hands came to loosen my grip, and I grabbed it with the same hand that held the sphere. As I pressed the sphere into her palm, her eyes widened."The sphere! That's what it is!" she said as the realization dawned on her. But it was too late. Yuna, arriving at the same conclusion as I had, let her go and stood up. Paine sat, on the floor of Yuna's bedroom, and almost as if against her better judgment, brought the sphere to her face to examine it in detail...The sphere's light began to dim."I can't believe you idiots set this up" Paine said, the tone of her voice now completely different. She looked at us, still naked, with an intrigued look on her face. "And put some clothes on!""How about you take yours off?" Yuna countered. Paine did not need too much convincing.I think the three of us were going to have a lot of fun in our new bodies...
"Look! There it is!" exclaimed Yuna, pointing at a tiny glowing orange sphere nestled tight in the forehead of an odd metal statue. Problem was, said statue was embedded in a cliff face, and it was pretty high up."So how do we get there?" asked Paine in her matter-of-fact tone."Oh, I got this!" Rikku replied. "I'll climb it!"Not waiting for any sort of confirmation, Rikku immediately ran, and jumped off the bridge at the cliff. Then, she dexterously climbed her way across, until she was underneath the statue."Be careful!" called Yuna, concern in her voice.Rikku did not respond, but rather climbed up. In a matter of minutes she was level with the statue. It was old and worn, about twice the size of her fist, in the shape of a man's head. She didn't recognize who it was, but that wasn't what they were there for. The sphere, however, was.Rikku grabbed it, feeling a slight jolt of electricity run through her hand as she touched it. "Yow!" she recoiled, hanging on with one hand as she shook the other. "It's trapped!" Reaching behind her and unhooking one of her daggers, Rikku tried to lever it out. Eventually she succeeded, the sphere popping out with a satisfying thunk. She barely managed to catch it in her palm.Perfect."I got it!" she exclaimed in triumph, pumping her fist... as her handhold crumbled and she fell down the side of the cliff, into the river, screaming.With a large splash, she collided with the water. She quickly gathered herself, swam to the shore, and rejoined her companions. "Told you I got this!" she grinned, showing off the sphere in her hand. "Now can we go back? I'm freezing!"I watched as the three girls left the river.
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"So what do you say, fellas? Good enough?" I asked. "Seriously dude? Girls?" complained Denys. "Look - we're running out of time, and beggars can't be choosers." I said. Denys only grumbled."Was that Yuna? As in, Summoner Yuna?" Rioc said, his voice betraying his excitement. "Ooh, that's exciting!""At least someone's on board." I said. Truth was, we didn't have much choice anyway.See, we weren't really alive. We weren't Fayth, or Pyreflies or anything like that. Most of that had perished when that very same Yuna and her friends had defeated Sin for good. No, we were something else. It was hard to explain. We were normal humans, long ago. then, Sin... happened to our home, and we died. Except not entirely - our flesh was dead, but through whatever perverse magic that kept Sin coming back... we came back too. And we stayed. We couldn't be Sent - we had tried numerous times, wanting to be freed. Instead, we had roamed the earth, still physical but not really alive, until Sin died. By then, we had gotten used to this 'living'. With Sin gone, we had to find another way.This was our way.
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"So how do we decide who gets who?" I asked."I can't believe you're forcing me into this" Denys pouted. "No one's forcing you into anything!" I retorted. "Would you rather just disappear after so long?"Denys had nothing to say. Instead, he grunted and turned around. Rioc, however, had a grin on his face. "So I take it you're not entirely upset with the situation" I asked, turning to face him. "So who is it?" I winked. "I wanna be famous!" Rioc exclaimed. "I want Yuna!"Rioc had been only fourteen or so when he had died - a good half decade younger than Denys or myself. Despite it having been a couple of centuries, some of his childish mannerisms persisted."That's it then, isn't it?" Denys asked. "Why even bother asking?""So she's not your type?" I teased. Denys grunted again, for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, and walked off.What Denys meant was the sphere. It was imbued with a huge amount of Sin's magic - and it was the thing that kept us around after Sin's demise. As the one who had set the magic into the sphere in the first place, I was most tightly bound to it.That meant, that I would be the one to infiltrate the girls' ship through the sphere. And I would be forced to take over the body of whoever had imprinted the most on the sphere. That meant, I had to make do with Rikku.And make do I would.
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"Why was that water so cold!?" Rikku complained. "Why'd you have to go and fall in?" Paine retorted."Well you weren't exactly volunteering to get the sphere, were you?""Can we chill out please?" Yuna interjected. "We got the sphere, after all!""I'm chill - I'm too chill" Rikku said with a laugh, wrapping her towel around herself. Yuna giggled. "Well at least your sense of humor is intact! We should get some rest, it's been a long day."After a few more minutes of idle chatter, the girls each retreated to their rooms. Later that night, Rikku saw what looked like Pyreflies circling around. "Hmm?" she mused. "Where did you come from?" She stepped towards them, and they retreated. Following, she found them in the storage room - floating around the sphere she had picked up earlier that day."Does this mean that we actually found something valuable?" Rikku thought.From within the orange sphere, my consciousness stirred. For the first time, I saw my quarry in detail. Rikku was short and petite. Her blonde hair was done up in a bit of a messy ponytail, with long thin braids down the side of her head. Surprisingly, even at this hour, she was still dressed for action. In her case that meant a blue bandanna, a yellow bra, matching scarf and billowy white sleeves that didn't even connect, leaving her shoulders and belly completely bare - not to mention giving anyone who wanted a nice look at the shape of her modest boobs. Below the waist she wasn't dressed much more than that - a short brown skirt that barely went below her ass, and short lace-up boots. "Pick me up..." I whispered from the sphere. Rikku, did not show any sign of hearing me, but I knew she had. As expected, she picked up the sphere, and took it to her room. She was mine.Rikku sat on the bed, idly playing with the sphere. She held it in front of her face, staring at it intently. Now was my time. The sphere glowed, and Rikku continued to stare, as if entranced. My consciousness flowed from the sphere into her hand.Even as my essence left the sphere, its light dimming ever so slightly, Rikku did not notice. She held it, mesmerized, as I continued to get myself set up. I had infiltrated her arm, half her torso and one of her legs, and she was none the wiser. Then again she had no reason to be. If she tried to move them, they would still respond.It did not take me long to completely leave the sphere behind. It's glow ceased, and Rikku seemed to snap out of her trance. But it was too late. With one effortless thought, I asserted myself as the dominant being in her body.Immediately, a barrage of sensations assaulted my new senses. While before everything was dull, now it was bright. The air on my skin. The soft sheets on my back and my legs. Even just the sensation of breathing, as I let out a content, feminine sigh.Then, I looked down and admired my new body. I touched my midriff with my slender fingers, and marveled at how nice it felt. I hadn't felt touch like this in so long, and had forgotten what it was like. My hands moved up, and touched my bra. I'd also never had boobs before...Curiosity getting the better of me, the bra and other few meager clothing items on my upper body were soon discarded, and I gazed at my chest. A feeling stirred within that I could not describe, and lewd thoughts began to run through my mind.The sphere needed some time to charge before I could use it to bring one of my friends into it, so I did have time to kill. And it would be a shame if I were to get distracted tomorrow by any new sensations, and raise suspicion that Rikku wasn't herself anymore...That night was the most amazing in my recent memory, with my hands exploring - in painstaking detail - every inch and sensation of my new body.
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I woke very early, as the sun was only rising. I quickly did a once-over of my new body, mentally reliving last night's session of getting acquainted with my new self. It almost made me want to uh... confirm the results, but I had bigger things to do.I picked up the sphere, now brighter than last night but still dull, from the bed stand where I had left it yesterday. A whispered word or two began the process. I watched as the intensity increased, but taking on a purplish hue instead of the orange it was before.So Rioc had primed himself next. I had to go find Yuna.Quickly putting on the few clothes Rikku had available, I took the sphere and went to the next room. As luck would have it, it was Yuna's.It was still far too early for anyone sane to be about, so I snuck into the room as quietly as I could. Yuna was asleep, face up, and lightly snoring. One of her hands had fallen out from under the blanket. Excellent. I put the sphere in her hand and closed it. Now, she was locked in for Rioc."Rikku?" Yuna asked. "What are you doing?""Good morning!" I said chirpily. "I noticed something with the sphere from yesterday, and had to show you right away!""But... what time is it?" Yuna asked, yawning."Dunno, I couldn't sleep." I replied. "Check it out!"Yuna took the hand with the sphere, and looked at it."Wasn't it orange yesterday?" she asked. "Yup! That's what I wanted to show you!""Huh..." she brought it closer to her face, and it started glowing. I stood back and watched with interest.There wasn't much to watch, unfortunately, as Yuna continued to stare at the sphere, mesmerized, as the brightness faded. Then she blinked, and her eyes went wide."Whoa!" she said, out of character and louder than expected. I was sure it was Rioc, but I had to play it safe just in case."Shh, keep it down, Yuna!" I whispered. Yuna's hand went to her mouth, touched her lips... and then she broke out into a grin."This is sweet!" she whispered, eyes wide with excitement. She threw off the blanket, revealing that unlike Rikku, Yuna at least had more standard sleeping clothes - a semi-transparent blue nightgown that went just below her waist. Yuna stood up - she was a little taller than me - and admired herself. She looked at her hands, down at her body, lifted her legs one at a time as she turned around to check out her own ass..."Dude, I'm actually Yuna!" she whispered."Of course you are!" I smiled, before giggling a little. "What now?" she asked - but she was a little fidgety."Well we need to wait for the sphere to recharge, and we need to wait for Denys to prime it." "Oh. " she said, looking a little disappointed."What's up?" I asked."Well... wait does that mean we have nothing to do for now?" her eyes lit up. I nodded, and I saw a perverted grin form on her face.With one swift motion, Yuna took off her nightgown, revealing a matching set of blue bra and panties. She cupped her boobs, moaning a little as she did so. Then, she stepped right next to me and cupped mine."I think mine are bigger..." she breathed in my ear. "Want to check?"A shiver went down my spine as she reached around and unclasped my bra, and pressed herself against me. I felt her bare skin touch mine, and she pulled me in so I couldn't escape. Not that I even wanted to.I returned the favor and undid her bra, the two now hanging in place only by virtue of us pressing so close against each other. That didn't last long as they were quickly thrown away, leaving the two of us completely topless in our embrace.The rest of the early morning was spent with Yuna - and me - getting very intimately acquainted with our - and each other's new bodies.
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"What the hell is going on?!" a loud voice yelled, waking both Yuna and me.Paine stood over the bed, with a look of anger and disgust on her face. She was already fully clothed, and pissed. On her were many belts - which were around her waist, hanging around her shorts, and around her otherwise bare midriff, what looked to be suspenders and garters keeping thigh-high black tights in place, as well as what appeared to be a black shawl over her chest, and black elbow-length gloves over her crossed hands. Meanwhile, blankets were strewn all round, covering the two girls still on the bed, but not leaving any question as to their prior activities."What do you mean?" Yuna said in a small voice."I mean this! You two are cousins for crying out loud!" Paine yelled. Yuna went red, and grinned."Um... oh..." she stuttered, shaking her head. "Whatever, I'm out. I can't do this." Paine said, before turning around.Yuna and I shared a glance, before looking at the inconspicuous green sphere on the bedside. I grabbed the sphere, while Yuna tackled Paine to the ground."Get... off!" Paine yelled, trying to shove Yuna off. I leapt in, Denys's sphere in hand, and grabbed Paine around her waist. Soon, one of her hands came to loosen my grip, and I grabbed it with the same hand that held the sphere. As I pressed the sphere into her palm, her eyes widened."The sphere! That's what it is!" she said as the realization dawned on her. But it was too late. Yuna, arriving at the same conclusion as I had, let her go and stood up. Paine sat, on the floor of Yuna's bedroom, and almost as if against her better judgment, brought the sphere to her face to examine it in detail...The sphere's light began to dim."I can't believe you idiots set this up" Paine said, the tone of her voice now completely different. She looked at us, still naked, with an intrigued look on her face. "And put some clothes on!""How about you take yours off?" Yuna countered. Paine did not need too much convincing.I think the three of us were going to have a lot of fun in our new bodies...
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A short story about Dawn and her doomed attempt to navigate Eterna Forest.This one took me way too long to finish writing. Hope everyone's been enjoying the remakes. Don't forget to pick up your Manaphy, and oh - don't get your body stolen!
Dawn was excited. The last week had literally changed her life. From turning 18 and finishing high school, to getting her Trainer license, a lot had happened. She had met Professor Rowan, gotten her first Pokemon - a Piplup, and even started the Gym Challenge. Beating Roark wasn't easy, but Piplup had pulled through and won her the Coal Badge.
Her next stop was Eterna City, where she would challenge Gardenia. To get there, she would need to traverse Eterna Forest.
"Maybe this wasn't the best outfit for a trip through a forest..." Dawn muttered, looking down at her attire. She wore her favorite outfit - a sleeveless black top over a white undershirt, a pink skirt, matching pink hiking boots, and black knee-high socks. Even though the boots were fine, she didn't fancy the idea of wading through branches, shrubs and bugs without at least a jacket of some sort. That, and her favorite hat - white with a pink Pokeball design - would probably get filthy.
Nevertheless, she pressed on and entered the forest. Upon turning a corner, she nearly knocked someone over.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" Dawn apologized. Her near-victim turned around and smiled warmly. She was tall, wearing a pale green sweater over a really long, dark-green dress. She had extraordinarily long green hair that was tied up in a braid, and went well past her waist.
"Oh, don't worry!" she said. "I know I kind of blend in in here..."
"I love your hair!" Dawn complimented the strange woman.
"Oh, thank you! I'm Cheryl, by the way".
"Dawn. Nice to meet you!"
"Likewise. I'm sorry to do this so quickly, but could I ask a favor?"
"Sure!"
"I need to go to Eterna City, but it can get scary in the forest... can we go together?" Cheryl asked.
"Oh yeah, of course!" Dawn replied. "I'm heading there too, some company would be great!"______________________________"You made eye contact, that means you have to battle!" yelled some snotty kid from the grass.
"Yeah, we can make it a two-on-two!" another one yelled. Both immediately threw Pokeballs, and Dawn found herself facing down a Wurmple and a Burmy. Nothing Piplup couldn't handle.
"I uh... don't really like battling..." Cheryl said.
"But you have to! That's the rules!" one of the Bug Catchers said.
Clearly uncomfortable, Cheryl took a Pokeball from inside one of her pockets, and threw it. Out came a Chansey, but it looked... odd. It's eyes were very frazzled, and it did not look well at all. I sent out Piplup.
"Alright, a battle! Let's go!" the other Bug Catcher yelled.
As they prepared their moves, Cheryl's Chansey screamed - a chilling noise that was something between panic and vomiting. It sent shivers down Dawn's spine, and the two Bug Catchers looked clearly unnerved. However, they persevered, even when their Pokemon fainted one by one. Chansey kept screaming.
"Uh... ok... you win..." the two boys said in unison, recalling their last Pokemon and awkwardly shuffling off.
"Sorry about that..." Cheryl said. "My Chansey is actually the reason I want to get through this forest. She's been sick recently and I need someone's help there."
"Poor thing..." Dawn said. "Let's get through quickly then!"
Cheryl smiled and nodded.______________________________They walked for what felt like an hour. Cheryl was forced into battle a couple more times, and her Chansey really did look horrible.
"I really wish we didn't have to battle so much..." Dawn said. "Your Chansey really looks like she needs a break."
Cheryl only smiled and nodded.
"Hey, we're almost at the exit!"
"Yeah..." Cheryl said, looking off to the side.
"What's up?" Dawn asked.
"Oh nothing, I thought I saw something."
Dawn looked in the direction Cheryl was looking, but saw nothing but forest. Weird. She turned back around, and saw Cheryl staring right at her!
Dawn yelped and jumped back. "What the hell!"
Cheryl quickly regained her composure. "Oh, sorry! I just zoned out, was worried about Chansey..."
"Alright..." Dawn replied, but still felt thoroughly creeped out.
"Should just be around that corner, now!" Dawn exclaimed, pointing ahead. If she remembered her map correctly, that was. She was so ready to get out of this creepy forest - and, she thought, away from Cheryl.______________________________"But where's the exit?" Dawn asked, mostly for her own benefit. They had turned the corner, and instead of seeing light filtering through the trees, Dawn only saw a dead end. It was foggy, and the trees seemed to form a wall.
"You're right... it should be here..." Cheryl muttered, before walking forward. "Oh, Dawn! Come here!"
Dawn stepped closer. It still appeared to be a dead end, but to Cheryl's left - and what she appeared to be pointing at - was an old mansion.
"Do you think someone lives here?" Dawn asked. It was tall - two stories, probably with an attic, made of dark wood with eerie purple light streaming through the windows. The roof, in stark contrast to everything else, was a sandy color. It still loomed though, and looked rather ominous.
"We should go ask for directions!" Cheryl said, with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"In there? It's kinda creepy..." Dawn complained, then turned forward. It was getting dark, and they had seemed to hit a dead end. "Then again, I don't want to go back through the forest at night..."
The two ladies approached the door and knocked. No one answered.
"Maybe..." Cheryl said, before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. "Ha, it's unlocked!"
"Should we really be going inside there...?" Dawn whispered, getting a bad feeling.
"Well if no one's answering the door..." Cheryl replied. "Plus, we might be able to find someone inside who can help us!"
Reluctantly, Dawn followed Cheryl inside.______________________________Suddenly, the door slammed shut.
"What the fuck?" Dawn yelped, turning around and looking behind her. There was no one - other than the closed door. "Deep breaths... it was just the wind..." Dawn muttered to herself under her breath. "Cheryl, wha... Cheryl?"
Dawn looked around, but Cheryl was nowhere to be seen. "C'mon, Cheryl, this isn't funny!" Dawn complained, but received no reply. She walked further inside, and saw a large hall flanked by elaborate staircases.
Running up the stairs and through the door on the second floor, Dawn found herself in a hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw someone...
"Who's there?" she called, but no one answered. She turned around, but did not see a single trace that anyone had been there.
From inside a nearby room, Dawn swore she heard voices. When she ran and opened the door, she was greeted by just an old television set.
"Figures..." muttered Dawn, fighting down the panic that was slowly seeping in. The TV suddenly turned on in a burst of static. Dawn screamed, and turned around...
And came face to face with a Gastly. Dawn didn't even have time to say anything as the Gastly grinned at her, eyes glowing.
Dawn's senses slowly faded, a curtain of blackness descending over her consciousness...______________________________When Dawn awoke, something was very wrong. She felt a little dizzy, and very light. She tried to take a step... and realized that she didn't have legs! Looking down, she saw a little purple mist, and nothing else.
Willing herself forward, she found that she could in fact move - and a dusty old mirror in the room she was in revealed the truth. She was a Gastly!
<What happened?> Dawn thought, freaking out. She flew out of the room, and found herself in the main hall again. Then, she heard voices from the room across. As she approached, she could make out what they were saying.
"I'm glad you like it!" chirped a familiar voice.
"She... I am quite pretty, I must say!" said another, very familiar voice. Her voice!
Dawn flew through the hall and into the next room, and came face to face with Cheryl... and herself!
"My my, we have a visitor!" Her body said, calmly. Cheryl stood, with a smirk on her face.
"Do you think this is..." Cheryl started.
"Probably." Dawn's body replied.
<Give me back my body!> Dawn tried to scream, but it only came out as a weak "Gaaaaaa".
"I think someone's upset!" gloated Cheryl. "Then again, I would be too if I was stupid enough to get my body stolen".
"Yes... Dawn, was it?" Dawn's body said. "I really must thank you for the lovely body," she said as she motioned down, hands flowing down her torso to rest on her hips. "Yes, it'll do fine..."
<How?! Why?!> Dawn cried.
"That's getting annoying..." Her body said, before an evil grin spread across her face. "But being the young, pretty Pokemon trainer I am, I know just what to do about that, don't I?" She replied in a sing-song voice. Then, she pulled out a Pokeball from her - bag, and launched it at Dawn's face.
It struck, and Dawn was immediately sucked in. She tried to resist, but was too disoriented and weak. Helplessly, she felt as the Pokeball beeped once... twice... and three times.
She was trapped.
Dawn was excited. The last week had literally changed her life. From turning 18 and finishing high school, to getting her Trainer license, a lot had happened. She had met Professor Rowan, gotten her first Pokemon - a Piplup, and even started the Gym Challenge. Beating Roark wasn't easy, but Piplup had pulled through and won her the Coal Badge.
Her next stop was Eterna City, where she would challenge Gardenia. To get there, she would need to traverse Eterna Forest.
"Maybe this wasn't the best outfit for a trip through a forest..." Dawn muttered, looking down at her attire. She wore her favorite outfit - a sleeveless black top over a white undershirt, a pink skirt, matching pink hiking boots, and black knee-high socks. Even though the boots were fine, she didn't fancy the idea of wading through branches, shrubs and bugs without at least a jacket of some sort. That, and her favorite hat - white with a pink Pokeball design - would probably get filthy.
Nevertheless, she pressed on and entered the forest. Upon turning a corner, she nearly knocked someone over.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" Dawn apologized. Her near-victim turned around and smiled warmly. She was tall, wearing a pale green sweater over a really long, dark-green dress. She had extraordinarily long green hair that was tied up in a braid, and went well past her waist.
"Oh, don't worry!" she said. "I know I kind of blend in in here..."
"I love your hair!" Dawn complimented the strange woman.
"Oh, thank you! I'm Cheryl, by the way".
"Dawn. Nice to meet you!"
"Likewise. I'm sorry to do this so quickly, but could I ask a favor?"
"Sure!"
"I need to go to Eterna City, but it can get scary in the forest... can we go together?" Cheryl asked.
"Oh yeah, of course!" Dawn replied. "I'm heading there too, some company would be great!"______________________________"You made eye contact, that means you have to battle!" yelled some snotty kid from the grass.
"Yeah, we can make it a two-on-two!" another one yelled. Both immediately threw Pokeballs, and Dawn found herself facing down a Wurmple and a Burmy. Nothing Piplup couldn't handle.
"I uh... don't really like battling..." Cheryl said.
"But you have to! That's the rules!" one of the Bug Catchers said.
Clearly uncomfortable, Cheryl took a Pokeball from inside one of her pockets, and threw it. Out came a Chansey, but it looked... odd. It's eyes were very frazzled, and it did not look well at all. I sent out Piplup.
"Alright, a battle! Let's go!" the other Bug Catcher yelled.
As they prepared their moves, Cheryl's Chansey screamed - a chilling noise that was something between panic and vomiting. It sent shivers down Dawn's spine, and the two Bug Catchers looked clearly unnerved. However, they persevered, even when their Pokemon fainted one by one. Chansey kept screaming.
"Uh... ok... you win..." the two boys said in unison, recalling their last Pokemon and awkwardly shuffling off.
"Sorry about that..." Cheryl said. "My Chansey is actually the reason I want to get through this forest. She's been sick recently and I need someone's help there."
"Poor thing..." Dawn said. "Let's get through quickly then!"
Cheryl smiled and nodded.______________________________They walked for what felt like an hour. Cheryl was forced into battle a couple more times, and her Chansey really did look horrible.
"I really wish we didn't have to battle so much..." Dawn said. "Your Chansey really looks like she needs a break."
Cheryl only smiled and nodded.
"Hey, we're almost at the exit!"
"Yeah..." Cheryl said, looking off to the side.
"What's up?" Dawn asked.
"Oh nothing, I thought I saw something."
Dawn looked in the direction Cheryl was looking, but saw nothing but forest. Weird. She turned back around, and saw Cheryl staring right at her!
Dawn yelped and jumped back. "What the hell!"
Cheryl quickly regained her composure. "Oh, sorry! I just zoned out, was worried about Chansey..."
"Alright..." Dawn replied, but still felt thoroughly creeped out.
"Should just be around that corner, now!" Dawn exclaimed, pointing ahead. If she remembered her map correctly, that was. She was so ready to get out of this creepy forest - and, she thought, away from Cheryl.______________________________"But where's the exit?" Dawn asked, mostly for her own benefit. They had turned the corner, and instead of seeing light filtering through the trees, Dawn only saw a dead end. It was foggy, and the trees seemed to form a wall.
"You're right... it should be here..." Cheryl muttered, before walking forward. "Oh, Dawn! Come here!"
Dawn stepped closer. It still appeared to be a dead end, but to Cheryl's left - and what she appeared to be pointing at - was an old mansion.
"Do you think someone lives here?" Dawn asked. It was tall - two stories, probably with an attic, made of dark wood with eerie purple light streaming through the windows. The roof, in stark contrast to everything else, was a sandy color. It still loomed though, and looked rather ominous.
"We should go ask for directions!" Cheryl said, with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"In there? It's kinda creepy..." Dawn complained, then turned forward. It was getting dark, and they had seemed to hit a dead end. "Then again, I don't want to go back through the forest at night..."
The two ladies approached the door and knocked. No one answered.
"Maybe..." Cheryl said, before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. "Ha, it's unlocked!"
"Should we really be going inside there...?" Dawn whispered, getting a bad feeling.
"Well if no one's answering the door..." Cheryl replied. "Plus, we might be able to find someone inside who can help us!"
Reluctantly, Dawn followed Cheryl inside.______________________________Suddenly, the door slammed shut.
"What the fuck?" Dawn yelped, turning around and looking behind her. There was no one - other than the closed door. "Deep breaths... it was just the wind..." Dawn muttered to herself under her breath. "Cheryl, wha... Cheryl?"
Dawn looked around, but Cheryl was nowhere to be seen. "C'mon, Cheryl, this isn't funny!" Dawn complained, but received no reply. She walked further inside, and saw a large hall flanked by elaborate staircases.
Running up the stairs and through the door on the second floor, Dawn found herself in a hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw someone...
"Who's there?" she called, but no one answered. She turned around, but did not see a single trace that anyone had been there.
From inside a nearby room, Dawn swore she heard voices. When she ran and opened the door, she was greeted by just an old television set.
"Figures..." muttered Dawn, fighting down the panic that was slowly seeping in. The TV suddenly turned on in a burst of static. Dawn screamed, and turned around...
And came face to face with a Gastly. Dawn didn't even have time to say anything as the Gastly grinned at her, eyes glowing.
Dawn's senses slowly faded, a curtain of blackness descending over her consciousness...______________________________When Dawn awoke, something was very wrong. She felt a little dizzy, and very light. She tried to take a step... and realized that she didn't have legs! Looking down, she saw a little purple mist, and nothing else.
Willing herself forward, she found that she could in fact move - and a dusty old mirror in the room she was in revealed the truth. She was a Gastly!
<What happened?> Dawn thought, freaking out. She flew out of the room, and found herself in the main hall again. Then, she heard voices from the room across. As she approached, she could make out what they were saying.
"I'm glad you like it!" chirped a familiar voice.
"She... I am quite pretty, I must say!" said another, very familiar voice. Her voice!
Dawn flew through the hall and into the next room, and came face to face with Cheryl... and herself!
"My my, we have a visitor!" Her body said, calmly. Cheryl stood, with a smirk on her face.
"Do you think this is..." Cheryl started.
"Probably." Dawn's body replied.
<Give me back my body!> Dawn tried to scream, but it only came out as a weak "Gaaaaaa".
"I think someone's upset!" gloated Cheryl. "Then again, I would be too if I was stupid enough to get my body stolen".
"Yes... Dawn, was it?" Dawn's body said. "I really must thank you for the lovely body," she said as she motioned down, hands flowing down her torso to rest on her hips. "Yes, it'll do fine..."
<How?! Why?!> Dawn cried.
"That's getting annoying..." Her body said, before an evil grin spread across her face. "But being the young, pretty Pokemon trainer I am, I know just what to do about that, don't I?" She replied in a sing-song voice. Then, she pulled out a Pokeball from her - bag, and launched it at Dawn's face.
It struck, and Dawn was immediately sucked in. She tried to resist, but was too disoriented and weak. Helplessly, she felt as the Pokeball beeped once... twice... and three times.
She was trapped.
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Jenny invites the crew over for a game of King's Cup, but the deck is rigged...
You sat down at the table. You were the last player.
"Finally! We can start!" Jenny exclaimed. Jenny was tall, with long straight brunette hair and glasses. She wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. It was fair enough that she was excited - she had brought an enchanted deck of cards to this party, and fully intended to use them.
You surveyed the other participants in Jenny's game. To his left was his best friend, Steve. A bit on the short side, thin but with a quick wit and silver tongue, he was popular and well liked by almost everyone he met.
Next to him was the blonde hostess of the event, Claire. She was very short and very bubbly. Tonight she was dressed in a form-fitting silver dress that showed a generous amount of cleavage.
Andrew and Amy were next, a couple who looked remarkably similar. Both with black hair and sharp features, Andrew wore a dark green polo top with brown slacks. To contrast, Amy had on a white polka dot dress that went to her knees.
After Andrew sat Jenny, and next to her was her friend Fiona. Tall, with flowing red hair, green spaghetti strap top and white shorts, she was you favourite from the group. You hadn't spoken too many times before, but she seemed friendly enough to you.
Finally, between Fiona and yourself was Harry. He was tall and lanky, somewhat unkempt. More the loner of the group, but he had been friends with both Jenny and Steve since they were in primary school.
"So Jen. Remind us how this all works, will ya?" Steve asked in his usual tone of voice.
"Well you've all played King's Cup, right? Pretty much that." Jenny said.
"Then what's the big deal about your special deck?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, Jen, what's so special about it?" Amy added.
"I was hoping to keep that a surprise..." Jenny complained, but conceded after a collective circle of flat stares. "Fine, fine..."
"It's an enchanted deck. Right now it's set up to swap the bodies of whoever plays". Jenny said, to a lot of stunned faces.
"Yeah right..." Harry muttered.
"Trust me, it's real." Jenny replied. "Anyway. When you pull a card, do the usual. However. When someone else pulls the matching card... like the nine of diamonds to your nine of hearts, you'll swap bodies. The red Joker lets you swap with anyone of your choice, and the black Joker will let anyone at the table swap with you."
"Huh... this seems fun!" Claire said, bubbly as ever. "So what are we waiting for? Lets get our drinks and start!"
Everyone proceeded to the kitchen to grab something to drink. You settled on a beer. Some people were mixing an assortment of liquor into their cups, while others joined you and cracked open a bottle.
Finally, the game had begun. As the owner of the deck, Jenny was coerced into taking the first card.
"And it is..." Jenny drew a card and looked at it. "A six!" Jenny revealed the six of clubs and put it in front of her. "Cheers, ladies!" The girls all took a sip of their drinks.
Fiona was up next. She drew the three of spades. "Three's for me, right?" She asked and took another sip of her drink. Harry pulled an eight of clubs. "Alright... Steve, you can be my mate." Steve laughed and raised his glass. "You got it, bro"
You were up next. Picking up a card, a feeling of relief washes over you as you reveal the Ace of diamonds. No swapping just yet, then. "Waterfall!!" Steve exclaims, as you begin to chug your beer. A full ten seconds later, you put it down empty. Andrew shoots you a dirty look - you had made him empty his improvised whiskey sour. You shrug.
"Alright... let's do this!" Steve said before pulling a card. Then, he started laughing, and flipped his card - the six of spades. Jenny grinned, and everyone else stared. The black on the cards glowed a bright gold, causing both Jenny and Steve to shudder, before stopping still, visibly disoriented.
"Huh so..." Jenny said, before opening her eyes and staring across the table towards Steve. "Holy shit Jen! These things really work?" Jenny exclaimed before looking down at herself. "Wow..." she mumbled, hands running down her torso.
"Ahem." Steve cleared his voice. "Yes, Jenny, it worked. And I believe you owe me a drink..." Jenny-in-Steve pointed to the six. "Six for chicks, and you are a chick now..."
"Ahh... " Steve-in-Jenny sighed and picked up the drink in front of... her? You figured that was easier. "Well, here's to all my fellow girls..." she said with a grin. That was just like Steve, too. Taking it in stride, even if he had just swapped bodies with Jenny.
The next to draw a card was Amy. She flipped the five of hearts off the top. "Five's for guys!" She said cheerfully, bumping her boyfriend playfully.
"And you now..." the new Jenny said towards what had previoulsly been her body. Jenny-in-Steve obliged, taking a sip of Steve's cider.
"What about my mate?" Harry asked.
"Well you chose that dude over there" Jenny said, pointing at Steve. "So I guess he drinks!" Steve nodded and took another sip.
The rest of the circle proceeded without anyone causing any more swaps. Several drinks were passed around, and Fiona claimed the title of Quizmaster. It was your turn to draw, and you flipped over a... four of spades. Had the pair for that been flipped yet? You looked around the table and saw that it had - it was in front of Andrew.
As the card began to glow, much in the same way as it had when Jenny and Steve had previously swapped, you felt yourself begin to get dizzy. It felt... kind of like you'd had way too much to drink. The sensation faded after a second, right along with your senses and vision. When you came to, almost instantly judging by the interested and not concerned expressions around you, you found yourself staring at... yourself.
"Huh?" you muttered.
"Hey, another swap!" Claire exclaimed. "Too bad it's boring..."
You thought about what she was saying - and you were glad that your first swap had been with another guy. Even if it had to be Andrew. That way you were eased into this weird game. Still, being someone else - even if you hadn't crossed the gender barrier like Steve and Jenny - was weird. His clothes fit just slightly differently. Plus, you felt you had your left hand touching someone's stocking-covered leg. Someone who was leaning on you right now. You turned to see Amy half-slouching against you, looking very comfortable. So along with Andrew's body, you'd also gotten his girlfriend.
"Uh, AHEM" your body coughed. "Amy!"
"What?" she asked, then realized what had happened. Letting go at about the same time you removed your own hand from her leg, she went a bit red. "Oh."
"Come on! That's half the fun of this!" Steve said - or rather, Jenny from Steve's body. "Anyway, Mark, who're you assigning drinks to?"
From your body, Andrew looked at his card. A four let him assign two drinks each to two people. "Well, how about I send one to Mar.... Andrew." He was clearly also still struggling with this game. "And I guess one to Harry" he smirked.
His new drink mix was actually pretty nice, you thought. That could just have been his taste buds, since you didn't care for spirit mixes too much. Harry happily chugged his, causing Jenny-in-Steve to follow suit, while Steve-in-Jenny smirked.
"I'm loving that I can just watch myself drink like that..." Jenny exclaimed, causing you and several others to chuckle slightly.
"Well that makes it my turn, right?" Steve asked, drawing a card. Then, laughing, he revealed a nine of diamonds, matching the nine of hearts Claire had pulled on her last turn. The cards blazed, leaving both Claire and Steve disoriented for a second.
The new Claire was the first to speak up. "Gotta say it's nice being a girl again - no offense" she motioned to Jenny. "But this outfit is... " Claire looked down at her generous cleavage and tight dress "...not quite my usual style."
Meanwhile, the new Steve was looking with disbelief at his body, running his hands down his torso. "No fucking way..." he whispered, before having a hand slip under the table to cup his junk. "That's unreal!"
"Uh, Steve? Your card?" Steve-in-Jenny called out, amused at the sight of what was previously his body feeling itself up.
"Oh... sorry." Steve's hands came back into view, and he went a bit red. "A nine... that's rhymes, right?" Then, with a smirk, he said "Cock."
"Block!" Claire immediately said with a grin, looking at him. The rhyming continued until Jenny tripped up and took a drink.
"One of the perks of this game... sometimes you get two turns in a row!" Claire joked and pulled another card. "Oh, that's boring" she said and showed her ten of spades. "Categories... umm..."
"So how does this work?" Fiona asked.
"Categories? We just name things matching whatever I pick, right?" Claire replied, not missing a beat.
"Yeah that's right." Andrew replied from your body.
"Hah, drink!" Claire exclaimed, pointing at the queen sitting in front of Fiona.
"Ugh, beer." Andrew complained and took a sip. "Y'know, this isn't too bad!" he said with some surprise, tasting beer with your mouth.
The categories continued - coffee drinks - until again, Jenny was the one to trip up and take a drink.
"C'mon Jen, you love your coffee!" Amy joked while reaching for her card. "Heaven!" she called as she flipped the seven of clubs. All hands shot up immediately - except that Harry fumbled. He obliged with his drink.
"Hey mate, your drink!" he called to Steve, who had again gotten distracted with his new body. Steve looked up, grinned sheepishly and drank.
You looked over at Amy next to you, who gave you a quick smile as if out of habit. Steve - or rather, Claire inside him - was having fun, and seemed to be really antsy. Steve had had more to drink than anyone else so far, and Claire was known to be a bit more... open-minded than most of the people at the table.
Now that it was your turn, you drew a card. You flipped a five - of spades, causing Andrew in your body to nearly freak out, before he realized the colors didn't match the five sitting in front of his girlfriend. "Well, looks like Mark needs a drink. Cheers, boys!" you call out in a jovial manner, causing all the guys to drink. Even Steve, who had to be prodded again. And then again for his mate's drink.
"Well looks like I'm up again!" Jenny said with some excitement, and drew her card. "Oho!" she flipped over another five - clubs, the matching pair to the card you had just drawn...The cards in front of both you and Jenny shined a bright gold, and the same dizziness that you had felt not too long ago once again enveloped your consciousness. Once again you blacked out and came to looking at yourself. This time, though, things were a bit different. For one, the buzz didn't completely go away.
The first thing you noticed was that you were wearing glasses. That and the long hair tickling your neck. You brought up your hands to brush at your neck, and feel a foreign sensation on your chest. Something tight and bouncy. It actually took you a split second to realize that you'd just bumped Jenny's boobs - your boobs, since you had just been swapped into her body.
That meant you were a chick! Instantly you squeeze your legs together, feeling the fabric of Jenny's jeans against your legs. That and the empty void between your legs that was definitely not there before. You blushed slightly, trying your hardest to not think about it. Instead, you tried to focus your attention back on the game.
"So guys drink?" Steve, now in Andrew's body, asked. You instinctively reached for your drink, which was now a bottle with a purple label. A bump from your right - you looked over, sending your long brown hair flying, and saw Fiona poking you in the shoulder - reminding you that you didn't qualify for this one anymore.
Steve did seem happy - or at least, very much not disappointed - to be out of Jenny's body, as he drank Andrew's whiskey concoction. You had to admit, it was a lot more distracting being Jenny than Andrew - and you were trying as hard as you could to not be distracted by all the differences between your usual and current bodies.
Finally, the next card was drawn - Fiona revealed the seven of spades. The card glowed, revealing a match across the table with Amy. After a second, the new Amy exclaimed "Heaven!" and shot her hand into the air.
Everyone but Fiona - now with her body under Amy's control - got their hands up in a second. You shot yours up quickly as well, feeling a jiggle on your chest. "So I drink?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah" replied your body, causing Fiona to giggle.
"I'm the quizmaster! Drink!" she exclaimed. "I just love this hair, Fee!" Amy nodded quietly, admiring her own new hair - now shorter, straighter, and jet-black. You saw yourself admiring Amy admiring herself, which made sense since last you checked, it was Andrew inside your body. Finally he drank, and everyone looked to Harry to draw the next card.
He flipped a Jack of diamonds, to mixed reactions from everyone. A Jack meant Never Have I Ever - three lives.
"Ok guys, here's how this works" Claire volunteered. "So usually you'd just play depending on who you are right now, right? Like Steve is Harry's mate, regardless of who is actually in Steve or Harry. Speaking of, Steve!" she said, causing Steve to look up once again.
"I'm listening!" he replied.
"Anyway!" Claire continued, cheerfully. "Since your memories are still your own, just go off that, ok? You aren't expected to know the secrets of whoever you are!"
"So I'll start, I guess..." Harry said, then grinned. "Never have I ever... been in another person's body!" Everyone groaned - he was the only one to remain unswitched at the table, so he alone did not tick down a life.
Next was your body. "Uhh... never have I ever been a chick" you watched yourself suppressing a grin. You looked around as once again, everyone except Harry - and your body, this time - lowered another finger.
After that was Steve. He giggled in a very much non masculine manner, before saying "Never have I ever fantasized about someone at this table!" before putting down his last finger. This cascaded around, and you watched as everyone - without exception - dropped a finger.
"Ooooohhhh, that's juicy!" Claire exclaimed before drinking. "Come on, everyone!" she said after she had hers, motioning for everyone - Harry and your old body excluded - to join her. You took a sip of Jenny's drink, noting it was quite refreshing and pleasant. "Mark is up next!"
Mark - your body - picked up a card, and gleefully revealed the six of diamonds. "Girls drink!" This meant you, though you were getting used to the concept that you were a girl. Not so much the actual sensations of it, which you were trying your hardest to avoid. You tightened your thighs slightly at the thought, before downing the remainder of your drink. Your body continued on after the girls at the table had finished. "And now Steve?"
Steve put down his cider, and pulled a card - the first King, the King of Hearts. The rest of the cider went into the cup in the middle of the table, and Steve excitedly began to giggle. "Ok, so I make a rule now, right?" he could hardly hold in his laughter. "Whenever you swap bodies with someone, you have to take off a piece of clothing!" he giggled, before hiccuping.
"There we have it, folks! Steve is drunk!" Andrew said, laughing. "Claire, if you would..." he motioned to the deck, who picked up a card.
You sat down at the table. You were the last player.
"Finally! We can start!" Jenny exclaimed. Jenny was tall, with long straight brunette hair and glasses. She wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. It was fair enough that she was excited - she had brought an enchanted deck of cards to this party, and fully intended to use them.
You surveyed the other participants in Jenny's game. To his left was his best friend, Steve. A bit on the short side, thin but with a quick wit and silver tongue, he was popular and well liked by almost everyone he met.
Next to him was the blonde hostess of the event, Claire. She was very short and very bubbly. Tonight she was dressed in a form-fitting silver dress that showed a generous amount of cleavage.
Andrew and Amy were next, a couple who looked remarkably similar. Both with black hair and sharp features, Andrew wore a dark green polo top with brown slacks. To contrast, Amy had on a white polka dot dress that went to her knees.
After Andrew sat Jenny, and next to her was her friend Fiona. Tall, with flowing red hair, green spaghetti strap top and white shorts, she was you favourite from the group. You hadn't spoken too many times before, but she seemed friendly enough to you.
Finally, between Fiona and yourself was Harry. He was tall and lanky, somewhat unkempt. More the loner of the group, but he had been friends with both Jenny and Steve since they were in primary school.
"So Jen. Remind us how this all works, will ya?" Steve asked in his usual tone of voice.
"Well you've all played King's Cup, right? Pretty much that." Jenny said.
"Then what's the big deal about your special deck?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, Jen, what's so special about it?" Amy added.
"I was hoping to keep that a surprise..." Jenny complained, but conceded after a collective circle of flat stares. "Fine, fine..."
"It's an enchanted deck. Right now it's set up to swap the bodies of whoever plays". Jenny said, to a lot of stunned faces.
"Yeah right..." Harry muttered.
"Trust me, it's real." Jenny replied. "Anyway. When you pull a card, do the usual. However. When someone else pulls the matching card... like the nine of diamonds to your nine of hearts, you'll swap bodies. The red Joker lets you swap with anyone of your choice, and the black Joker will let anyone at the table swap with you."
"Huh... this seems fun!" Claire said, bubbly as ever. "So what are we waiting for? Lets get our drinks and start!"
Everyone proceeded to the kitchen to grab something to drink. You settled on a beer. Some people were mixing an assortment of liquor into their cups, while others joined you and cracked open a bottle.
Finally, the game had begun. As the owner of the deck, Jenny was coerced into taking the first card.
"And it is..." Jenny drew a card and looked at it. "A six!" Jenny revealed the six of clubs and put it in front of her. "Cheers, ladies!" The girls all took a sip of their drinks.
Fiona was up next. She drew the three of spades. "Three's for me, right?" She asked and took another sip of her drink. Harry pulled an eight of clubs. "Alright... Steve, you can be my mate." Steve laughed and raised his glass. "You got it, bro"
You were up next. Picking up a card, a feeling of relief washes over you as you reveal the Ace of diamonds. No swapping just yet, then. "Waterfall!!" Steve exclaims, as you begin to chug your beer. A full ten seconds later, you put it down empty. Andrew shoots you a dirty look - you had made him empty his improvised whiskey sour. You shrug.
"Alright... let's do this!" Steve said before pulling a card. Then, he started laughing, and flipped his card - the six of spades. Jenny grinned, and everyone else stared. The black on the cards glowed a bright gold, causing both Jenny and Steve to shudder, before stopping still, visibly disoriented.
"Huh so..." Jenny said, before opening her eyes and staring across the table towards Steve. "Holy shit Jen! These things really work?" Jenny exclaimed before looking down at herself. "Wow..." she mumbled, hands running down her torso.
"Ahem." Steve cleared his voice. "Yes, Jenny, it worked. And I believe you owe me a drink..." Jenny-in-Steve pointed to the six. "Six for chicks, and you are a chick now..."
"Ahh... " Steve-in-Jenny sighed and picked up the drink in front of... her? You figured that was easier. "Well, here's to all my fellow girls..." she said with a grin. That was just like Steve, too. Taking it in stride, even if he had just swapped bodies with Jenny.
The next to draw a card was Amy. She flipped the five of hearts off the top. "Five's for guys!" She said cheerfully, bumping her boyfriend playfully.
"And you now..." the new Jenny said towards what had previoulsly been her body. Jenny-in-Steve obliged, taking a sip of Steve's cider.
"What about my mate?" Harry asked.
"Well you chose that dude over there" Jenny said, pointing at Steve. "So I guess he drinks!" Steve nodded and took another sip.
The rest of the circle proceeded without anyone causing any more swaps. Several drinks were passed around, and Fiona claimed the title of Quizmaster. It was your turn to draw, and you flipped over a... four of spades. Had the pair for that been flipped yet? You looked around the table and saw that it had - it was in front of Andrew.
As the card began to glow, much in the same way as it had when Jenny and Steve had previously swapped, you felt yourself begin to get dizzy. It felt... kind of like you'd had way too much to drink. The sensation faded after a second, right along with your senses and vision. When you came to, almost instantly judging by the interested and not concerned expressions around you, you found yourself staring at... yourself.
"Huh?" you muttered.
"Hey, another swap!" Claire exclaimed. "Too bad it's boring..."
You thought about what she was saying - and you were glad that your first swap had been with another guy. Even if it had to be Andrew. That way you were eased into this weird game. Still, being someone else - even if you hadn't crossed the gender barrier like Steve and Jenny - was weird. His clothes fit just slightly differently. Plus, you felt you had your left hand touching someone's stocking-covered leg. Someone who was leaning on you right now. You turned to see Amy half-slouching against you, looking very comfortable. So along with Andrew's body, you'd also gotten his girlfriend.
"Uh, AHEM" your body coughed. "Amy!"
"What?" she asked, then realized what had happened. Letting go at about the same time you removed your own hand from her leg, she went a bit red. "Oh."
"Come on! That's half the fun of this!" Steve said - or rather, Jenny from Steve's body. "Anyway, Mark, who're you assigning drinks to?"
From your body, Andrew looked at his card. A four let him assign two drinks each to two people. "Well, how about I send one to Mar.... Andrew." He was clearly also still struggling with this game. "And I guess one to Harry" he smirked.
His new drink mix was actually pretty nice, you thought. That could just have been his taste buds, since you didn't care for spirit mixes too much. Harry happily chugged his, causing Jenny-in-Steve to follow suit, while Steve-in-Jenny smirked.
"I'm loving that I can just watch myself drink like that..." Jenny exclaimed, causing you and several others to chuckle slightly.
"Well that makes it my turn, right?" Steve asked, drawing a card. Then, laughing, he revealed a nine of diamonds, matching the nine of hearts Claire had pulled on her last turn. The cards blazed, leaving both Claire and Steve disoriented for a second.
The new Claire was the first to speak up. "Gotta say it's nice being a girl again - no offense" she motioned to Jenny. "But this outfit is... " Claire looked down at her generous cleavage and tight dress "...not quite my usual style."
Meanwhile, the new Steve was looking with disbelief at his body, running his hands down his torso. "No fucking way..." he whispered, before having a hand slip under the table to cup his junk. "That's unreal!"
"Uh, Steve? Your card?" Steve-in-Jenny called out, amused at the sight of what was previously his body feeling itself up.
"Oh... sorry." Steve's hands came back into view, and he went a bit red. "A nine... that's rhymes, right?" Then, with a smirk, he said "Cock."
"Block!" Claire immediately said with a grin, looking at him. The rhyming continued until Jenny tripped up and took a drink.
"One of the perks of this game... sometimes you get two turns in a row!" Claire joked and pulled another card. "Oh, that's boring" she said and showed her ten of spades. "Categories... umm..."
"So how does this work?" Fiona asked.
"Categories? We just name things matching whatever I pick, right?" Claire replied, not missing a beat.
"Yeah that's right." Andrew replied from your body.
"Hah, drink!" Claire exclaimed, pointing at the queen sitting in front of Fiona.
"Ugh, beer." Andrew complained and took a sip. "Y'know, this isn't too bad!" he said with some surprise, tasting beer with your mouth.
The categories continued - coffee drinks - until again, Jenny was the one to trip up and take a drink.
"C'mon Jen, you love your coffee!" Amy joked while reaching for her card. "Heaven!" she called as she flipped the seven of clubs. All hands shot up immediately - except that Harry fumbled. He obliged with his drink.
"Hey mate, your drink!" he called to Steve, who had again gotten distracted with his new body. Steve looked up, grinned sheepishly and drank.
You looked over at Amy next to you, who gave you a quick smile as if out of habit. Steve - or rather, Claire inside him - was having fun, and seemed to be really antsy. Steve had had more to drink than anyone else so far, and Claire was known to be a bit more... open-minded than most of the people at the table.
Now that it was your turn, you drew a card. You flipped a five - of spades, causing Andrew in your body to nearly freak out, before he realized the colors didn't match the five sitting in front of his girlfriend. "Well, looks like Mark needs a drink. Cheers, boys!" you call out in a jovial manner, causing all the guys to drink. Even Steve, who had to be prodded again. And then again for his mate's drink.
"Well looks like I'm up again!" Jenny said with some excitement, and drew her card. "Oho!" she flipped over another five - clubs, the matching pair to the card you had just drawn...The cards in front of both you and Jenny shined a bright gold, and the same dizziness that you had felt not too long ago once again enveloped your consciousness. Once again you blacked out and came to looking at yourself. This time, though, things were a bit different. For one, the buzz didn't completely go away.
The first thing you noticed was that you were wearing glasses. That and the long hair tickling your neck. You brought up your hands to brush at your neck, and feel a foreign sensation on your chest. Something tight and bouncy. It actually took you a split second to realize that you'd just bumped Jenny's boobs - your boobs, since you had just been swapped into her body.
That meant you were a chick! Instantly you squeeze your legs together, feeling the fabric of Jenny's jeans against your legs. That and the empty void between your legs that was definitely not there before. You blushed slightly, trying your hardest to not think about it. Instead, you tried to focus your attention back on the game.
"So guys drink?" Steve, now in Andrew's body, asked. You instinctively reached for your drink, which was now a bottle with a purple label. A bump from your right - you looked over, sending your long brown hair flying, and saw Fiona poking you in the shoulder - reminding you that you didn't qualify for this one anymore.
Steve did seem happy - or at least, very much not disappointed - to be out of Jenny's body, as he drank Andrew's whiskey concoction. You had to admit, it was a lot more distracting being Jenny than Andrew - and you were trying as hard as you could to not be distracted by all the differences between your usual and current bodies.
Finally, the next card was drawn - Fiona revealed the seven of spades. The card glowed, revealing a match across the table with Amy. After a second, the new Amy exclaimed "Heaven!" and shot her hand into the air.
Everyone but Fiona - now with her body under Amy's control - got their hands up in a second. You shot yours up quickly as well, feeling a jiggle on your chest. "So I drink?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah" replied your body, causing Fiona to giggle.
"I'm the quizmaster! Drink!" she exclaimed. "I just love this hair, Fee!" Amy nodded quietly, admiring her own new hair - now shorter, straighter, and jet-black. You saw yourself admiring Amy admiring herself, which made sense since last you checked, it was Andrew inside your body. Finally he drank, and everyone looked to Harry to draw the next card.
He flipped a Jack of diamonds, to mixed reactions from everyone. A Jack meant Never Have I Ever - three lives.
"Ok guys, here's how this works" Claire volunteered. "So usually you'd just play depending on who you are right now, right? Like Steve is Harry's mate, regardless of who is actually in Steve or Harry. Speaking of, Steve!" she said, causing Steve to look up once again.
"I'm listening!" he replied.
"Anyway!" Claire continued, cheerfully. "Since your memories are still your own, just go off that, ok? You aren't expected to know the secrets of whoever you are!"
"So I'll start, I guess..." Harry said, then grinned. "Never have I ever... been in another person's body!" Everyone groaned - he was the only one to remain unswitched at the table, so he alone did not tick down a life.
Next was your body. "Uhh... never have I ever been a chick" you watched yourself suppressing a grin. You looked around as once again, everyone except Harry - and your body, this time - lowered another finger.
After that was Steve. He giggled in a very much non masculine manner, before saying "Never have I ever fantasized about someone at this table!" before putting down his last finger. This cascaded around, and you watched as everyone - without exception - dropped a finger.
"Ooooohhhh, that's juicy!" Claire exclaimed before drinking. "Come on, everyone!" she said after she had hers, motioning for everyone - Harry and your old body excluded - to join her. You took a sip of Jenny's drink, noting it was quite refreshing and pleasant. "Mark is up next!"
Mark - your body - picked up a card, and gleefully revealed the six of diamonds. "Girls drink!" This meant you, though you were getting used to the concept that you were a girl. Not so much the actual sensations of it, which you were trying your hardest to avoid. You tightened your thighs slightly at the thought, before downing the remainder of your drink. Your body continued on after the girls at the table had finished. "And now Steve?"
Steve put down his cider, and pulled a card - the first King, the King of Hearts. The rest of the cider went into the cup in the middle of the table, and Steve excitedly began to giggle. "Ok, so I make a rule now, right?" he could hardly hold in his laughter. "Whenever you swap bodies with someone, you have to take off a piece of clothing!" he giggled, before hiccuping.
"There we have it, folks! Steve is drunk!" Andrew said, laughing. "Claire, if you would..." he motioned to the deck, who picked up a card.
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Kent is young guy that has to spend the summer paying off his debt after accidentally damaging his bitch of a neighbour Julie’s car while playing a game with his friend Marcus. Kent resigns himself to working as Julie’s glorified servant, that is until he finds an odd looking idol that allows him to possess her body. Now with a summer of freedom ahead and Julie’s hot body to do with as he pleases, Kent is looking forward to making up for lost time and having some fun.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
possession
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I try not to think of myself as the bad guy. Yes, I found myself involved in the development of mind-control technology, but I did my best to protect the world from the worst of it. After that, things just kind of happened on their own.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
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Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
masturbation possession m2f
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Haxxare
· 17 Dec 2021
Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
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Matt stumbles upon a ring that lets him possess people.
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
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Yuna, Rikku and Paine stumble upon an interesting sphere, not knowing that it is a lot more than they bargained for...
"Look! There it is!" exclaimed Yuna, pointing at a tiny glowing orange sphere nestled tight in the forehead of an odd metal statue. Problem was, said statue was embedded in a cliff face, and it was pretty high up."So how do we get there?" asked Paine in her matter-of-fact tone."Oh, I got this!" Rikku replied. "I'll climb it!"Not waiting for any sort of confirmation, Rikku immediately ran, and jumped off the bridge at the cliff. Then, she dexterously climbed her way across, until she was underneath the statue."Be careful!" called Yuna, concern in her voice.Rikku did not respond, but rather climbed up. In a matter of minutes she was level with the statue. It was old and worn, about twice the size of her fist, in the shape of a man's head. She didn't recognize who it was, but that wasn't what they were there for. The sphere, however, was.Rikku grabbed it, feeling a slight jolt of electricity run through her hand as she touched it. "Yow!" she recoiled, hanging on with one hand as she shook the other. "It's trapped!" Reaching behind her and unhooking one of her daggers, Rikku tried to lever it out. Eventually she succeeded, the sphere popping out with a satisfying thunk. She barely managed to catch it in her palm.Perfect."I got it!" she exclaimed in triumph, pumping her fist... as her handhold crumbled and she fell down the side of the cliff, into the river, screaming.With a large splash, she collided with the water. She quickly gathered herself, swam to the shore, and rejoined her companions. "Told you I got this!" she grinned, showing off the sphere in her hand. "Now can we go back? I'm freezing!"I watched as the three girls left the river.
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"So what do you say, fellas? Good enough?" I asked. "Seriously dude? Girls?" complained Denys. "Look - we're running out of time, and beggars can't be choosers." I said. Denys only grumbled."Was that Yuna? As in, Summoner Yuna?" Rioc said, his voice betraying his excitement. "Ooh, that's exciting!""At least someone's on board." I said. Truth was, we didn't have much choice anyway.See, we weren't really alive. We weren't Fayth, or Pyreflies or anything like that. Most of that had perished when that very same Yuna and her friends had defeated Sin for good. No, we were something else. It was hard to explain. We were normal humans, long ago. then, Sin... happened to our home, and we died. Except not entirely - our flesh was dead, but through whatever perverse magic that kept Sin coming back... we came back too. And we stayed. We couldn't be Sent - we had tried numerous times, wanting to be freed. Instead, we had roamed the earth, still physical but not really alive, until Sin died. By then, we had gotten used to this 'living'. With Sin gone, we had to find another way.This was our way.
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"So how do we decide who gets who?" I asked."I can't believe you're forcing me into this" Denys pouted. "No one's forcing you into anything!" I retorted. "Would you rather just disappear after so long?"Denys had nothing to say. Instead, he grunted and turned around. Rioc, however, had a grin on his face. "So I take it you're not entirely upset with the situation" I asked, turning to face him. "So who is it?" I winked. "I wanna be famous!" Rioc exclaimed. "I want Yuna!"Rioc had been only fourteen or so when he had died - a good half decade younger than Denys or myself. Despite it having been a couple of centuries, some of his childish mannerisms persisted."That's it then, isn't it?" Denys asked. "Why even bother asking?""So she's not your type?" I teased. Denys grunted again, for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, and walked off.What Denys meant was the sphere. It was imbued with a huge amount of Sin's magic - and it was the thing that kept us around after Sin's demise. As the one who had set the magic into the sphere in the first place, I was most tightly bound to it.That meant, that I would be the one to infiltrate the girls' ship through the sphere. And I would be forced to take over the body of whoever had imprinted the most on the sphere. That meant, I had to make do with Rikku.And make do I would.
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"Why was that water so cold!?" Rikku complained. "Why'd you have to go and fall in?" Paine retorted."Well you weren't exactly volunteering to get the sphere, were you?""Can we chill out please?" Yuna interjected. "We got the sphere, after all!""I'm chill - I'm too chill" Rikku said with a laugh, wrapping her towel around herself. Yuna giggled. "Well at least your sense of humor is intact! We should get some rest, it's been a long day."After a few more minutes of idle chatter, the girls each retreated to their rooms. Later that night, Rikku saw what looked like Pyreflies circling around. "Hmm?" she mused. "Where did you come from?" She stepped towards them, and they retreated. Following, she found them in the storage room - floating around the sphere she had picked up earlier that day."Does this mean that we actually found something valuable?" Rikku thought.From within the orange sphere, my consciousness stirred. For the first time, I saw my quarry in detail. Rikku was short and petite. Her blonde hair was done up in a bit of a messy ponytail, with long thin braids down the side of her head. Surprisingly, even at this hour, she was still dressed for action. In her case that meant a blue bandanna, a yellow bra, matching scarf and billowy white sleeves that didn't even connect, leaving her shoulders and belly completely bare - not to mention giving anyone who wanted a nice look at the shape of her modest boobs. Below the waist she wasn't dressed much more than that - a short brown skirt that barely went below her ass, and short lace-up boots. "Pick me up..." I whispered from the sphere. Rikku, did not show any sign of hearing me, but I knew she had. As expected, she picked up the sphere, and took it to her room. She was mine.Rikku sat on the bed, idly playing with the sphere. She held it in front of her face, staring at it intently. Now was my time. The sphere glowed, and Rikku continued to stare, as if entranced. My consciousness flowed from the sphere into her hand.Even as my essence left the sphere, its light dimming ever so slightly, Rikku did not notice. She held it, mesmerized, as I continued to get myself set up. I had infiltrated her arm, half her torso and one of her legs, and she was none the wiser. Then again she had no reason to be. If she tried to move them, they would still respond.It did not take me long to completely leave the sphere behind. It's glow ceased, and Rikku seemed to snap out of her trance. But it was too late. With one effortless thought, I asserted myself as the dominant being in her body.Immediately, a barrage of sensations assaulted my new senses. While before everything was dull, now it was bright. The air on my skin. The soft sheets on my back and my legs. Even just the sensation of breathing, as I let out a content, feminine sigh.Then, I looked down and admired my new body. I touched my midriff with my slender fingers, and marveled at how nice it felt. I hadn't felt touch like this in so long, and had forgotten what it was like. My hands moved up, and touched my bra. I'd also never had boobs before...Curiosity getting the better of me, the bra and other few meager clothing items on my upper body were soon discarded, and I gazed at my chest. A feeling stirred within that I could not describe, and lewd thoughts began to run through my mind.The sphere needed some time to charge before I could use it to bring one of my friends into it, so I did have time to kill. And it would be a shame if I were to get distracted tomorrow by any new sensations, and raise suspicion that Rikku wasn't herself anymore...That night was the most amazing in my recent memory, with my hands exploring - in painstaking detail - every inch and sensation of my new body.
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I woke very early, as the sun was only rising. I quickly did a once-over of my new body, mentally reliving last night's session of getting acquainted with my new self. It almost made me want to uh... confirm the results, but I had bigger things to do.I picked up the sphere, now brighter than last night but still dull, from the bed stand where I had left it yesterday. A whispered word or two began the process. I watched as the intensity increased, but taking on a purplish hue instead of the orange it was before.So Rioc had primed himself next. I had to go find Yuna.Quickly putting on the few clothes Rikku had available, I took the sphere and went to the next room. As luck would have it, it was Yuna's.It was still far too early for anyone sane to be about, so I snuck into the room as quietly as I could. Yuna was asleep, face up, and lightly snoring. One of her hands had fallen out from under the blanket. Excellent. I put the sphere in her hand and closed it. Now, she was locked in for Rioc."Rikku?" Yuna asked. "What are you doing?""Good morning!" I said chirpily. "I noticed something with the sphere from yesterday, and had to show you right away!""But... what time is it?" Yuna asked, yawning."Dunno, I couldn't sleep." I replied. "Check it out!"Yuna took the hand with the sphere, and looked at it."Wasn't it orange yesterday?" she asked. "Yup! That's what I wanted to show you!""Huh..." she brought it closer to her face, and it started glowing. I stood back and watched with interest.There wasn't much to watch, unfortunately, as Yuna continued to stare at the sphere, mesmerized, as the brightness faded. Then she blinked, and her eyes went wide."Whoa!" she said, out of character and louder than expected. I was sure it was Rioc, but I had to play it safe just in case."Shh, keep it down, Yuna!" I whispered. Yuna's hand went to her mouth, touched her lips... and then she broke out into a grin."This is sweet!" she whispered, eyes wide with excitement. She threw off the blanket, revealing that unlike Rikku, Yuna at least had more standard sleeping clothes - a semi-transparent blue nightgown that went just below her waist. Yuna stood up - she was a little taller than me - and admired herself. She looked at her hands, down at her body, lifted her legs one at a time as she turned around to check out her own ass..."Dude, I'm actually Yuna!" she whispered."Of course you are!" I smiled, before giggling a little. "What now?" she asked - but she was a little fidgety."Well we need to wait for the sphere to recharge, and we need to wait for Denys to prime it." "Oh. " she said, looking a little disappointed."What's up?" I asked."Well... wait does that mean we have nothing to do for now?" her eyes lit up. I nodded, and I saw a perverted grin form on her face.With one swift motion, Yuna took off her nightgown, revealing a matching set of blue bra and panties. She cupped her boobs, moaning a little as she did so. Then, she stepped right next to me and cupped mine."I think mine are bigger..." she breathed in my ear. "Want to check?"A shiver went down my spine as she reached around and unclasped my bra, and pressed herself against me. I felt her bare skin touch mine, and she pulled me in so I couldn't escape. Not that I even wanted to.I returned the favor and undid her bra, the two now hanging in place only by virtue of us pressing so close against each other. That didn't last long as they were quickly thrown away, leaving the two of us completely topless in our embrace.The rest of the early morning was spent with Yuna - and me - getting very intimately acquainted with our - and each other's new bodies.
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"What the hell is going on?!" a loud voice yelled, waking both Yuna and me.Paine stood over the bed, with a look of anger and disgust on her face. She was already fully clothed, and pissed. On her were many belts - which were around her waist, hanging around her shorts, and around her otherwise bare midriff, what looked to be suspenders and garters keeping thigh-high black tights in place, as well as what appeared to be a black shawl over her chest, and black elbow-length gloves over her crossed hands. Meanwhile, blankets were strewn all round, covering the two girls still on the bed, but not leaving any question as to their prior activities."What do you mean?" Yuna said in a small voice."I mean this! You two are cousins for crying out loud!" Paine yelled. Yuna went red, and grinned."Um... oh..." she stuttered, shaking her head. "Whatever, I'm out. I can't do this." Paine said, before turning around.Yuna and I shared a glance, before looking at the inconspicuous green sphere on the bedside. I grabbed the sphere, while Yuna tackled Paine to the ground."Get... off!" Paine yelled, trying to shove Yuna off. I leapt in, Denys's sphere in hand, and grabbed Paine around her waist. Soon, one of her hands came to loosen my grip, and I grabbed it with the same hand that held the sphere. As I pressed the sphere into her palm, her eyes widened."The sphere! That's what it is!" she said as the realization dawned on her. But it was too late. Yuna, arriving at the same conclusion as I had, let her go and stood up. Paine sat, on the floor of Yuna's bedroom, and almost as if against her better judgment, brought the sphere to her face to examine it in detail...The sphere's light began to dim."I can't believe you idiots set this up" Paine said, the tone of her voice now completely different. She looked at us, still naked, with an intrigued look on her face. "And put some clothes on!""How about you take yours off?" Yuna countered. Paine did not need too much convincing.I think the three of us were going to have a lot of fun in our new bodies...
"Look! There it is!" exclaimed Yuna, pointing at a tiny glowing orange sphere nestled tight in the forehead of an odd metal statue. Problem was, said statue was embedded in a cliff face, and it was pretty high up."So how do we get there?" asked Paine in her matter-of-fact tone."Oh, I got this!" Rikku replied. "I'll climb it!"Not waiting for any sort of confirmation, Rikku immediately ran, and jumped off the bridge at the cliff. Then, she dexterously climbed her way across, until she was underneath the statue."Be careful!" called Yuna, concern in her voice.Rikku did not respond, but rather climbed up. In a matter of minutes she was level with the statue. It was old and worn, about twice the size of her fist, in the shape of a man's head. She didn't recognize who it was, but that wasn't what they were there for. The sphere, however, was.Rikku grabbed it, feeling a slight jolt of electricity run through her hand as she touched it. "Yow!" she recoiled, hanging on with one hand as she shook the other. "It's trapped!" Reaching behind her and unhooking one of her daggers, Rikku tried to lever it out. Eventually she succeeded, the sphere popping out with a satisfying thunk. She barely managed to catch it in her palm.Perfect."I got it!" she exclaimed in triumph, pumping her fist... as her handhold crumbled and she fell down the side of the cliff, into the river, screaming.With a large splash, she collided with the water. She quickly gathered herself, swam to the shore, and rejoined her companions. "Told you I got this!" she grinned, showing off the sphere in her hand. "Now can we go back? I'm freezing!"I watched as the three girls left the river.
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"So what do you say, fellas? Good enough?" I asked. "Seriously dude? Girls?" complained Denys. "Look - we're running out of time, and beggars can't be choosers." I said. Denys only grumbled."Was that Yuna? As in, Summoner Yuna?" Rioc said, his voice betraying his excitement. "Ooh, that's exciting!""At least someone's on board." I said. Truth was, we didn't have much choice anyway.See, we weren't really alive. We weren't Fayth, or Pyreflies or anything like that. Most of that had perished when that very same Yuna and her friends had defeated Sin for good. No, we were something else. It was hard to explain. We were normal humans, long ago. then, Sin... happened to our home, and we died. Except not entirely - our flesh was dead, but through whatever perverse magic that kept Sin coming back... we came back too. And we stayed. We couldn't be Sent - we had tried numerous times, wanting to be freed. Instead, we had roamed the earth, still physical but not really alive, until Sin died. By then, we had gotten used to this 'living'. With Sin gone, we had to find another way.This was our way.
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"So how do we decide who gets who?" I asked."I can't believe you're forcing me into this" Denys pouted. "No one's forcing you into anything!" I retorted. "Would you rather just disappear after so long?"Denys had nothing to say. Instead, he grunted and turned around. Rioc, however, had a grin on his face. "So I take it you're not entirely upset with the situation" I asked, turning to face him. "So who is it?" I winked. "I wanna be famous!" Rioc exclaimed. "I want Yuna!"Rioc had been only fourteen or so when he had died - a good half decade younger than Denys or myself. Despite it having been a couple of centuries, some of his childish mannerisms persisted."That's it then, isn't it?" Denys asked. "Why even bother asking?""So she's not your type?" I teased. Denys grunted again, for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, and walked off.What Denys meant was the sphere. It was imbued with a huge amount of Sin's magic - and it was the thing that kept us around after Sin's demise. As the one who had set the magic into the sphere in the first place, I was most tightly bound to it.That meant, that I would be the one to infiltrate the girls' ship through the sphere. And I would be forced to take over the body of whoever had imprinted the most on the sphere. That meant, I had to make do with Rikku.And make do I would.
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"Why was that water so cold!?" Rikku complained. "Why'd you have to go and fall in?" Paine retorted."Well you weren't exactly volunteering to get the sphere, were you?""Can we chill out please?" Yuna interjected. "We got the sphere, after all!""I'm chill - I'm too chill" Rikku said with a laugh, wrapping her towel around herself. Yuna giggled. "Well at least your sense of humor is intact! We should get some rest, it's been a long day."After a few more minutes of idle chatter, the girls each retreated to their rooms. Later that night, Rikku saw what looked like Pyreflies circling around. "Hmm?" she mused. "Where did you come from?" She stepped towards them, and they retreated. Following, she found them in the storage room - floating around the sphere she had picked up earlier that day."Does this mean that we actually found something valuable?" Rikku thought.From within the orange sphere, my consciousness stirred. For the first time, I saw my quarry in detail. Rikku was short and petite. Her blonde hair was done up in a bit of a messy ponytail, with long thin braids down the side of her head. Surprisingly, even at this hour, she was still dressed for action. In her case that meant a blue bandanna, a yellow bra, matching scarf and billowy white sleeves that didn't even connect, leaving her shoulders and belly completely bare - not to mention giving anyone who wanted a nice look at the shape of her modest boobs. Below the waist she wasn't dressed much more than that - a short brown skirt that barely went below her ass, and short lace-up boots. "Pick me up..." I whispered from the sphere. Rikku, did not show any sign of hearing me, but I knew she had. As expected, she picked up the sphere, and took it to her room. She was mine.Rikku sat on the bed, idly playing with the sphere. She held it in front of her face, staring at it intently. Now was my time. The sphere glowed, and Rikku continued to stare, as if entranced. My consciousness flowed from the sphere into her hand.Even as my essence left the sphere, its light dimming ever so slightly, Rikku did not notice. She held it, mesmerized, as I continued to get myself set up. I had infiltrated her arm, half her torso and one of her legs, and she was none the wiser. Then again she had no reason to be. If she tried to move them, they would still respond.It did not take me long to completely leave the sphere behind. It's glow ceased, and Rikku seemed to snap out of her trance. But it was too late. With one effortless thought, I asserted myself as the dominant being in her body.Immediately, a barrage of sensations assaulted my new senses. While before everything was dull, now it was bright. The air on my skin. The soft sheets on my back and my legs. Even just the sensation of breathing, as I let out a content, feminine sigh.Then, I looked down and admired my new body. I touched my midriff with my slender fingers, and marveled at how nice it felt. I hadn't felt touch like this in so long, and had forgotten what it was like. My hands moved up, and touched my bra. I'd also never had boobs before...Curiosity getting the better of me, the bra and other few meager clothing items on my upper body were soon discarded, and I gazed at my chest. A feeling stirred within that I could not describe, and lewd thoughts began to run through my mind.The sphere needed some time to charge before I could use it to bring one of my friends into it, so I did have time to kill. And it would be a shame if I were to get distracted tomorrow by any new sensations, and raise suspicion that Rikku wasn't herself anymore...That night was the most amazing in my recent memory, with my hands exploring - in painstaking detail - every inch and sensation of my new body.
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I woke very early, as the sun was only rising. I quickly did a once-over of my new body, mentally reliving last night's session of getting acquainted with my new self. It almost made me want to uh... confirm the results, but I had bigger things to do.I picked up the sphere, now brighter than last night but still dull, from the bed stand where I had left it yesterday. A whispered word or two began the process. I watched as the intensity increased, but taking on a purplish hue instead of the orange it was before.So Rioc had primed himself next. I had to go find Yuna.Quickly putting on the few clothes Rikku had available, I took the sphere and went to the next room. As luck would have it, it was Yuna's.It was still far too early for anyone sane to be about, so I snuck into the room as quietly as I could. Yuna was asleep, face up, and lightly snoring. One of her hands had fallen out from under the blanket. Excellent. I put the sphere in her hand and closed it. Now, she was locked in for Rioc."Rikku?" Yuna asked. "What are you doing?""Good morning!" I said chirpily. "I noticed something with the sphere from yesterday, and had to show you right away!""But... what time is it?" Yuna asked, yawning."Dunno, I couldn't sleep." I replied. "Check it out!"Yuna took the hand with the sphere, and looked at it."Wasn't it orange yesterday?" she asked. "Yup! That's what I wanted to show you!""Huh..." she brought it closer to her face, and it started glowing. I stood back and watched with interest.There wasn't much to watch, unfortunately, as Yuna continued to stare at the sphere, mesmerized, as the brightness faded. Then she blinked, and her eyes went wide."Whoa!" she said, out of character and louder than expected. I was sure it was Rioc, but I had to play it safe just in case."Shh, keep it down, Yuna!" I whispered. Yuna's hand went to her mouth, touched her lips... and then she broke out into a grin."This is sweet!" she whispered, eyes wide with excitement. She threw off the blanket, revealing that unlike Rikku, Yuna at least had more standard sleeping clothes - a semi-transparent blue nightgown that went just below her waist. Yuna stood up - she was a little taller than me - and admired herself. She looked at her hands, down at her body, lifted her legs one at a time as she turned around to check out her own ass..."Dude, I'm actually Yuna!" she whispered."Of course you are!" I smiled, before giggling a little. "What now?" she asked - but she was a little fidgety."Well we need to wait for the sphere to recharge, and we need to wait for Denys to prime it." "Oh. " she said, looking a little disappointed."What's up?" I asked."Well... wait does that mean we have nothing to do for now?" her eyes lit up. I nodded, and I saw a perverted grin form on her face.With one swift motion, Yuna took off her nightgown, revealing a matching set of blue bra and panties. She cupped her boobs, moaning a little as she did so. Then, she stepped right next to me and cupped mine."I think mine are bigger..." she breathed in my ear. "Want to check?"A shiver went down my spine as she reached around and unclasped my bra, and pressed herself against me. I felt her bare skin touch mine, and she pulled me in so I couldn't escape. Not that I even wanted to.I returned the favor and undid her bra, the two now hanging in place only by virtue of us pressing so close against each other. That didn't last long as they were quickly thrown away, leaving the two of us completely topless in our embrace.The rest of the early morning was spent with Yuna - and me - getting very intimately acquainted with our - and each other's new bodies.
______________________________
"What the hell is going on?!" a loud voice yelled, waking both Yuna and me.Paine stood over the bed, with a look of anger and disgust on her face. She was already fully clothed, and pissed. On her were many belts - which were around her waist, hanging around her shorts, and around her otherwise bare midriff, what looked to be suspenders and garters keeping thigh-high black tights in place, as well as what appeared to be a black shawl over her chest, and black elbow-length gloves over her crossed hands. Meanwhile, blankets were strewn all round, covering the two girls still on the bed, but not leaving any question as to their prior activities."What do you mean?" Yuna said in a small voice."I mean this! You two are cousins for crying out loud!" Paine yelled. Yuna went red, and grinned."Um... oh..." she stuttered, shaking her head. "Whatever, I'm out. I can't do this." Paine said, before turning around.Yuna and I shared a glance, before looking at the inconspicuous green sphere on the bedside. I grabbed the sphere, while Yuna tackled Paine to the ground."Get... off!" Paine yelled, trying to shove Yuna off. I leapt in, Denys's sphere in hand, and grabbed Paine around her waist. Soon, one of her hands came to loosen my grip, and I grabbed it with the same hand that held the sphere. As I pressed the sphere into her palm, her eyes widened."The sphere! That's what it is!" she said as the realization dawned on her. But it was too late. Yuna, arriving at the same conclusion as I had, let her go and stood up. Paine sat, on the floor of Yuna's bedroom, and almost as if against her better judgment, brought the sphere to her face to examine it in detail...The sphere's light began to dim."I can't believe you idiots set this up" Paine said, the tone of her voice now completely different. She looked at us, still naked, with an intrigued look on her face. "And put some clothes on!""How about you take yours off?" Yuna countered. Paine did not need too much convincing.I think the three of us were going to have a lot of fun in our new bodies...
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A short story about Dawn and her doomed attempt to navigate Eterna Forest.This one took me way too long to finish writing. Hope everyone's been enjoying the remakes. Don't forget to pick up your Manaphy, and oh - don't get your body stolen!
Dawn was excited. The last week had literally changed her life. From turning 18 and finishing high school, to getting her Trainer license, a lot had happened. She had met Professor Rowan, gotten her first Pokemon - a Piplup, and even started the Gym Challenge. Beating Roark wasn't easy, but Piplup had pulled through and won her the Coal Badge.
Her next stop was Eterna City, where she would challenge Gardenia. To get there, she would need to traverse Eterna Forest.
"Maybe this wasn't the best outfit for a trip through a forest..." Dawn muttered, looking down at her attire. She wore her favorite outfit - a sleeveless black top over a white undershirt, a pink skirt, matching pink hiking boots, and black knee-high socks. Even though the boots were fine, she didn't fancy the idea of wading through branches, shrubs and bugs without at least a jacket of some sort. That, and her favorite hat - white with a pink Pokeball design - would probably get filthy.
Nevertheless, she pressed on and entered the forest. Upon turning a corner, she nearly knocked someone over.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" Dawn apologized. Her near-victim turned around and smiled warmly. She was tall, wearing a pale green sweater over a really long, dark-green dress. She had extraordinarily long green hair that was tied up in a braid, and went well past her waist.
"Oh, don't worry!" she said. "I know I kind of blend in in here..."
"I love your hair!" Dawn complimented the strange woman.
"Oh, thank you! I'm Cheryl, by the way".
"Dawn. Nice to meet you!"
"Likewise. I'm sorry to do this so quickly, but could I ask a favor?"
"Sure!"
"I need to go to Eterna City, but it can get scary in the forest... can we go together?" Cheryl asked.
"Oh yeah, of course!" Dawn replied. "I'm heading there too, some company would be great!"______________________________"You made eye contact, that means you have to battle!" yelled some snotty kid from the grass.
"Yeah, we can make it a two-on-two!" another one yelled. Both immediately threw Pokeballs, and Dawn found herself facing down a Wurmple and a Burmy. Nothing Piplup couldn't handle.
"I uh... don't really like battling..." Cheryl said.
"But you have to! That's the rules!" one of the Bug Catchers said.
Clearly uncomfortable, Cheryl took a Pokeball from inside one of her pockets, and threw it. Out came a Chansey, but it looked... odd. It's eyes were very frazzled, and it did not look well at all. I sent out Piplup.
"Alright, a battle! Let's go!" the other Bug Catcher yelled.
As they prepared their moves, Cheryl's Chansey screamed - a chilling noise that was something between panic and vomiting. It sent shivers down Dawn's spine, and the two Bug Catchers looked clearly unnerved. However, they persevered, even when their Pokemon fainted one by one. Chansey kept screaming.
"Uh... ok... you win..." the two boys said in unison, recalling their last Pokemon and awkwardly shuffling off.
"Sorry about that..." Cheryl said. "My Chansey is actually the reason I want to get through this forest. She's been sick recently and I need someone's help there."
"Poor thing..." Dawn said. "Let's get through quickly then!"
Cheryl smiled and nodded.______________________________They walked for what felt like an hour. Cheryl was forced into battle a couple more times, and her Chansey really did look horrible.
"I really wish we didn't have to battle so much..." Dawn said. "Your Chansey really looks like she needs a break."
Cheryl only smiled and nodded.
"Hey, we're almost at the exit!"
"Yeah..." Cheryl said, looking off to the side.
"What's up?" Dawn asked.
"Oh nothing, I thought I saw something."
Dawn looked in the direction Cheryl was looking, but saw nothing but forest. Weird. She turned back around, and saw Cheryl staring right at her!
Dawn yelped and jumped back. "What the hell!"
Cheryl quickly regained her composure. "Oh, sorry! I just zoned out, was worried about Chansey..."
"Alright..." Dawn replied, but still felt thoroughly creeped out.
"Should just be around that corner, now!" Dawn exclaimed, pointing ahead. If she remembered her map correctly, that was. She was so ready to get out of this creepy forest - and, she thought, away from Cheryl.______________________________"But where's the exit?" Dawn asked, mostly for her own benefit. They had turned the corner, and instead of seeing light filtering through the trees, Dawn only saw a dead end. It was foggy, and the trees seemed to form a wall.
"You're right... it should be here..." Cheryl muttered, before walking forward. "Oh, Dawn! Come here!"
Dawn stepped closer. It still appeared to be a dead end, but to Cheryl's left - and what she appeared to be pointing at - was an old mansion.
"Do you think someone lives here?" Dawn asked. It was tall - two stories, probably with an attic, made of dark wood with eerie purple light streaming through the windows. The roof, in stark contrast to everything else, was a sandy color. It still loomed though, and looked rather ominous.
"We should go ask for directions!" Cheryl said, with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"In there? It's kinda creepy..." Dawn complained, then turned forward. It was getting dark, and they had seemed to hit a dead end. "Then again, I don't want to go back through the forest at night..."
The two ladies approached the door and knocked. No one answered.
"Maybe..." Cheryl said, before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. "Ha, it's unlocked!"
"Should we really be going inside there...?" Dawn whispered, getting a bad feeling.
"Well if no one's answering the door..." Cheryl replied. "Plus, we might be able to find someone inside who can help us!"
Reluctantly, Dawn followed Cheryl inside.______________________________Suddenly, the door slammed shut.
"What the fuck?" Dawn yelped, turning around and looking behind her. There was no one - other than the closed door. "Deep breaths... it was just the wind..." Dawn muttered to herself under her breath. "Cheryl, wha... Cheryl?"
Dawn looked around, but Cheryl was nowhere to be seen. "C'mon, Cheryl, this isn't funny!" Dawn complained, but received no reply. She walked further inside, and saw a large hall flanked by elaborate staircases.
Running up the stairs and through the door on the second floor, Dawn found herself in a hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw someone...
"Who's there?" she called, but no one answered. She turned around, but did not see a single trace that anyone had been there.
From inside a nearby room, Dawn swore she heard voices. When she ran and opened the door, she was greeted by just an old television set.
"Figures..." muttered Dawn, fighting down the panic that was slowly seeping in. The TV suddenly turned on in a burst of static. Dawn screamed, and turned around...
And came face to face with a Gastly. Dawn didn't even have time to say anything as the Gastly grinned at her, eyes glowing.
Dawn's senses slowly faded, a curtain of blackness descending over her consciousness...______________________________When Dawn awoke, something was very wrong. She felt a little dizzy, and very light. She tried to take a step... and realized that she didn't have legs! Looking down, she saw a little purple mist, and nothing else.
Willing herself forward, she found that she could in fact move - and a dusty old mirror in the room she was in revealed the truth. She was a Gastly!
<What happened?> Dawn thought, freaking out. She flew out of the room, and found herself in the main hall again. Then, she heard voices from the room across. As she approached, she could make out what they were saying.
"I'm glad you like it!" chirped a familiar voice.
"She... I am quite pretty, I must say!" said another, very familiar voice. Her voice!
Dawn flew through the hall and into the next room, and came face to face with Cheryl... and herself!
"My my, we have a visitor!" Her body said, calmly. Cheryl stood, with a smirk on her face.
"Do you think this is..." Cheryl started.
"Probably." Dawn's body replied.
<Give me back my body!> Dawn tried to scream, but it only came out as a weak "Gaaaaaa".
"I think someone's upset!" gloated Cheryl. "Then again, I would be too if I was stupid enough to get my body stolen".
"Yes... Dawn, was it?" Dawn's body said. "I really must thank you for the lovely body," she said as she motioned down, hands flowing down her torso to rest on her hips. "Yes, it'll do fine..."
<How?! Why?!> Dawn cried.
"That's getting annoying..." Her body said, before an evil grin spread across her face. "But being the young, pretty Pokemon trainer I am, I know just what to do about that, don't I?" She replied in a sing-song voice. Then, she pulled out a Pokeball from her - bag, and launched it at Dawn's face.
It struck, and Dawn was immediately sucked in. She tried to resist, but was too disoriented and weak. Helplessly, she felt as the Pokeball beeped once... twice... and three times.
She was trapped.
Dawn was excited. The last week had literally changed her life. From turning 18 and finishing high school, to getting her Trainer license, a lot had happened. She had met Professor Rowan, gotten her first Pokemon - a Piplup, and even started the Gym Challenge. Beating Roark wasn't easy, but Piplup had pulled through and won her the Coal Badge.
Her next stop was Eterna City, where she would challenge Gardenia. To get there, she would need to traverse Eterna Forest.
"Maybe this wasn't the best outfit for a trip through a forest..." Dawn muttered, looking down at her attire. She wore her favorite outfit - a sleeveless black top over a white undershirt, a pink skirt, matching pink hiking boots, and black knee-high socks. Even though the boots were fine, she didn't fancy the idea of wading through branches, shrubs and bugs without at least a jacket of some sort. That, and her favorite hat - white with a pink Pokeball design - would probably get filthy.
Nevertheless, she pressed on and entered the forest. Upon turning a corner, she nearly knocked someone over.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" Dawn apologized. Her near-victim turned around and smiled warmly. She was tall, wearing a pale green sweater over a really long, dark-green dress. She had extraordinarily long green hair that was tied up in a braid, and went well past her waist.
"Oh, don't worry!" she said. "I know I kind of blend in in here..."
"I love your hair!" Dawn complimented the strange woman.
"Oh, thank you! I'm Cheryl, by the way".
"Dawn. Nice to meet you!"
"Likewise. I'm sorry to do this so quickly, but could I ask a favor?"
"Sure!"
"I need to go to Eterna City, but it can get scary in the forest... can we go together?" Cheryl asked.
"Oh yeah, of course!" Dawn replied. "I'm heading there too, some company would be great!"______________________________"You made eye contact, that means you have to battle!" yelled some snotty kid from the grass.
"Yeah, we can make it a two-on-two!" another one yelled. Both immediately threw Pokeballs, and Dawn found herself facing down a Wurmple and a Burmy. Nothing Piplup couldn't handle.
"I uh... don't really like battling..." Cheryl said.
"But you have to! That's the rules!" one of the Bug Catchers said.
Clearly uncomfortable, Cheryl took a Pokeball from inside one of her pockets, and threw it. Out came a Chansey, but it looked... odd. It's eyes were very frazzled, and it did not look well at all. I sent out Piplup.
"Alright, a battle! Let's go!" the other Bug Catcher yelled.
As they prepared their moves, Cheryl's Chansey screamed - a chilling noise that was something between panic and vomiting. It sent shivers down Dawn's spine, and the two Bug Catchers looked clearly unnerved. However, they persevered, even when their Pokemon fainted one by one. Chansey kept screaming.
"Uh... ok... you win..." the two boys said in unison, recalling their last Pokemon and awkwardly shuffling off.
"Sorry about that..." Cheryl said. "My Chansey is actually the reason I want to get through this forest. She's been sick recently and I need someone's help there."
"Poor thing..." Dawn said. "Let's get through quickly then!"
Cheryl smiled and nodded.______________________________They walked for what felt like an hour. Cheryl was forced into battle a couple more times, and her Chansey really did look horrible.
"I really wish we didn't have to battle so much..." Dawn said. "Your Chansey really looks like she needs a break."
Cheryl only smiled and nodded.
"Hey, we're almost at the exit!"
"Yeah..." Cheryl said, looking off to the side.
"What's up?" Dawn asked.
"Oh nothing, I thought I saw something."
Dawn looked in the direction Cheryl was looking, but saw nothing but forest. Weird. She turned back around, and saw Cheryl staring right at her!
Dawn yelped and jumped back. "What the hell!"
Cheryl quickly regained her composure. "Oh, sorry! I just zoned out, was worried about Chansey..."
"Alright..." Dawn replied, but still felt thoroughly creeped out.
"Should just be around that corner, now!" Dawn exclaimed, pointing ahead. If she remembered her map correctly, that was. She was so ready to get out of this creepy forest - and, she thought, away from Cheryl.______________________________"But where's the exit?" Dawn asked, mostly for her own benefit. They had turned the corner, and instead of seeing light filtering through the trees, Dawn only saw a dead end. It was foggy, and the trees seemed to form a wall.
"You're right... it should be here..." Cheryl muttered, before walking forward. "Oh, Dawn! Come here!"
Dawn stepped closer. It still appeared to be a dead end, but to Cheryl's left - and what she appeared to be pointing at - was an old mansion.
"Do you think someone lives here?" Dawn asked. It was tall - two stories, probably with an attic, made of dark wood with eerie purple light streaming through the windows. The roof, in stark contrast to everything else, was a sandy color. It still loomed though, and looked rather ominous.
"We should go ask for directions!" Cheryl said, with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"In there? It's kinda creepy..." Dawn complained, then turned forward. It was getting dark, and they had seemed to hit a dead end. "Then again, I don't want to go back through the forest at night..."
The two ladies approached the door and knocked. No one answered.
"Maybe..." Cheryl said, before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. "Ha, it's unlocked!"
"Should we really be going inside there...?" Dawn whispered, getting a bad feeling.
"Well if no one's answering the door..." Cheryl replied. "Plus, we might be able to find someone inside who can help us!"
Reluctantly, Dawn followed Cheryl inside.______________________________Suddenly, the door slammed shut.
"What the fuck?" Dawn yelped, turning around and looking behind her. There was no one - other than the closed door. "Deep breaths... it was just the wind..." Dawn muttered to herself under her breath. "Cheryl, wha... Cheryl?"
Dawn looked around, but Cheryl was nowhere to be seen. "C'mon, Cheryl, this isn't funny!" Dawn complained, but received no reply. She walked further inside, and saw a large hall flanked by elaborate staircases.
Running up the stairs and through the door on the second floor, Dawn found herself in a hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw someone...
"Who's there?" she called, but no one answered. She turned around, but did not see a single trace that anyone had been there.
From inside a nearby room, Dawn swore she heard voices. When she ran and opened the door, she was greeted by just an old television set.
"Figures..." muttered Dawn, fighting down the panic that was slowly seeping in. The TV suddenly turned on in a burst of static. Dawn screamed, and turned around...
And came face to face with a Gastly. Dawn didn't even have time to say anything as the Gastly grinned at her, eyes glowing.
Dawn's senses slowly faded, a curtain of blackness descending over her consciousness...______________________________When Dawn awoke, something was very wrong. She felt a little dizzy, and very light. She tried to take a step... and realized that she didn't have legs! Looking down, she saw a little purple mist, and nothing else.
Willing herself forward, she found that she could in fact move - and a dusty old mirror in the room she was in revealed the truth. She was a Gastly!
<What happened?> Dawn thought, freaking out. She flew out of the room, and found herself in the main hall again. Then, she heard voices from the room across. As she approached, she could make out what they were saying.
"I'm glad you like it!" chirped a familiar voice.
"She... I am quite pretty, I must say!" said another, very familiar voice. Her voice!
Dawn flew through the hall and into the next room, and came face to face with Cheryl... and herself!
"My my, we have a visitor!" Her body said, calmly. Cheryl stood, with a smirk on her face.
"Do you think this is..." Cheryl started.
"Probably." Dawn's body replied.
<Give me back my body!> Dawn tried to scream, but it only came out as a weak "Gaaaaaa".
"I think someone's upset!" gloated Cheryl. "Then again, I would be too if I was stupid enough to get my body stolen".
"Yes... Dawn, was it?" Dawn's body said. "I really must thank you for the lovely body," she said as she motioned down, hands flowing down her torso to rest on her hips. "Yes, it'll do fine..."
<How?! Why?!> Dawn cried.
"That's getting annoying..." Her body said, before an evil grin spread across her face. "But being the young, pretty Pokemon trainer I am, I know just what to do about that, don't I?" She replied in a sing-song voice. Then, she pulled out a Pokeball from her - bag, and launched it at Dawn's face.
It struck, and Dawn was immediately sucked in. She tried to resist, but was too disoriented and weak. Helplessly, she felt as the Pokeball beeped once... twice... and three times.
She was trapped.
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Jenny invites the crew over for a game of King's Cup, but the deck is rigged...
You sat down at the table. You were the last player.
"Finally! We can start!" Jenny exclaimed. Jenny was tall, with long straight brunette hair and glasses. She wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. It was fair enough that she was excited - she had brought an enchanted deck of cards to this party, and fully intended to use them.
You surveyed the other participants in Jenny's game. To his left was his best friend, Steve. A bit on the short side, thin but with a quick wit and silver tongue, he was popular and well liked by almost everyone he met.
Next to him was the blonde hostess of the event, Claire. She was very short and very bubbly. Tonight she was dressed in a form-fitting silver dress that showed a generous amount of cleavage.
Andrew and Amy were next, a couple who looked remarkably similar. Both with black hair and sharp features, Andrew wore a dark green polo top with brown slacks. To contrast, Amy had on a white polka dot dress that went to her knees.
After Andrew sat Jenny, and next to her was her friend Fiona. Tall, with flowing red hair, green spaghetti strap top and white shorts, she was you favourite from the group. You hadn't spoken too many times before, but she seemed friendly enough to you.
Finally, between Fiona and yourself was Harry. He was tall and lanky, somewhat unkempt. More the loner of the group, but he had been friends with both Jenny and Steve since they were in primary school.
"So Jen. Remind us how this all works, will ya?" Steve asked in his usual tone of voice.
"Well you've all played King's Cup, right? Pretty much that." Jenny said.
"Then what's the big deal about your special deck?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, Jen, what's so special about it?" Amy added.
"I was hoping to keep that a surprise..." Jenny complained, but conceded after a collective circle of flat stares. "Fine, fine..."
"It's an enchanted deck. Right now it's set up to swap the bodies of whoever plays". Jenny said, to a lot of stunned faces.
"Yeah right..." Harry muttered.
"Trust me, it's real." Jenny replied. "Anyway. When you pull a card, do the usual. However. When someone else pulls the matching card... like the nine of diamonds to your nine of hearts, you'll swap bodies. The red Joker lets you swap with anyone of your choice, and the black Joker will let anyone at the table swap with you."
"Huh... this seems fun!" Claire said, bubbly as ever. "So what are we waiting for? Lets get our drinks and start!"
Everyone proceeded to the kitchen to grab something to drink. You settled on a beer. Some people were mixing an assortment of liquor into their cups, while others joined you and cracked open a bottle.
Finally, the game had begun. As the owner of the deck, Jenny was coerced into taking the first card.
"And it is..." Jenny drew a card and looked at it. "A six!" Jenny revealed the six of clubs and put it in front of her. "Cheers, ladies!" The girls all took a sip of their drinks.
Fiona was up next. She drew the three of spades. "Three's for me, right?" She asked and took another sip of her drink. Harry pulled an eight of clubs. "Alright... Steve, you can be my mate." Steve laughed and raised his glass. "You got it, bro"
You were up next. Picking up a card, a feeling of relief washes over you as you reveal the Ace of diamonds. No swapping just yet, then. "Waterfall!!" Steve exclaims, as you begin to chug your beer. A full ten seconds later, you put it down empty. Andrew shoots you a dirty look - you had made him empty his improvised whiskey sour. You shrug.
"Alright... let's do this!" Steve said before pulling a card. Then, he started laughing, and flipped his card - the six of spades. Jenny grinned, and everyone else stared. The black on the cards glowed a bright gold, causing both Jenny and Steve to shudder, before stopping still, visibly disoriented.
"Huh so..." Jenny said, before opening her eyes and staring across the table towards Steve. "Holy shit Jen! These things really work?" Jenny exclaimed before looking down at herself. "Wow..." she mumbled, hands running down her torso.
"Ahem." Steve cleared his voice. "Yes, Jenny, it worked. And I believe you owe me a drink..." Jenny-in-Steve pointed to the six. "Six for chicks, and you are a chick now..."
"Ahh... " Steve-in-Jenny sighed and picked up the drink in front of... her? You figured that was easier. "Well, here's to all my fellow girls..." she said with a grin. That was just like Steve, too. Taking it in stride, even if he had just swapped bodies with Jenny.
The next to draw a card was Amy. She flipped the five of hearts off the top. "Five's for guys!" She said cheerfully, bumping her boyfriend playfully.
"And you now..." the new Jenny said towards what had previoulsly been her body. Jenny-in-Steve obliged, taking a sip of Steve's cider.
"What about my mate?" Harry asked.
"Well you chose that dude over there" Jenny said, pointing at Steve. "So I guess he drinks!" Steve nodded and took another sip.
The rest of the circle proceeded without anyone causing any more swaps. Several drinks were passed around, and Fiona claimed the title of Quizmaster. It was your turn to draw, and you flipped over a... four of spades. Had the pair for that been flipped yet? You looked around the table and saw that it had - it was in front of Andrew.
As the card began to glow, much in the same way as it had when Jenny and Steve had previously swapped, you felt yourself begin to get dizzy. It felt... kind of like you'd had way too much to drink. The sensation faded after a second, right along with your senses and vision. When you came to, almost instantly judging by the interested and not concerned expressions around you, you found yourself staring at... yourself.
"Huh?" you muttered.
"Hey, another swap!" Claire exclaimed. "Too bad it's boring..."
You thought about what she was saying - and you were glad that your first swap had been with another guy. Even if it had to be Andrew. That way you were eased into this weird game. Still, being someone else - even if you hadn't crossed the gender barrier like Steve and Jenny - was weird. His clothes fit just slightly differently. Plus, you felt you had your left hand touching someone's stocking-covered leg. Someone who was leaning on you right now. You turned to see Amy half-slouching against you, looking very comfortable. So along with Andrew's body, you'd also gotten his girlfriend.
"Uh, AHEM" your body coughed. "Amy!"
"What?" she asked, then realized what had happened. Letting go at about the same time you removed your own hand from her leg, she went a bit red. "Oh."
"Come on! That's half the fun of this!" Steve said - or rather, Jenny from Steve's body. "Anyway, Mark, who're you assigning drinks to?"
From your body, Andrew looked at his card. A four let him assign two drinks each to two people. "Well, how about I send one to Mar.... Andrew." He was clearly also still struggling with this game. "And I guess one to Harry" he smirked.
His new drink mix was actually pretty nice, you thought. That could just have been his taste buds, since you didn't care for spirit mixes too much. Harry happily chugged his, causing Jenny-in-Steve to follow suit, while Steve-in-Jenny smirked.
"I'm loving that I can just watch myself drink like that..." Jenny exclaimed, causing you and several others to chuckle slightly.
"Well that makes it my turn, right?" Steve asked, drawing a card. Then, laughing, he revealed a nine of diamonds, matching the nine of hearts Claire had pulled on her last turn. The cards blazed, leaving both Claire and Steve disoriented for a second.
The new Claire was the first to speak up. "Gotta say it's nice being a girl again - no offense" she motioned to Jenny. "But this outfit is... " Claire looked down at her generous cleavage and tight dress "...not quite my usual style."
Meanwhile, the new Steve was looking with disbelief at his body, running his hands down his torso. "No fucking way..." he whispered, before having a hand slip under the table to cup his junk. "That's unreal!"
"Uh, Steve? Your card?" Steve-in-Jenny called out, amused at the sight of what was previously his body feeling itself up.
"Oh... sorry." Steve's hands came back into view, and he went a bit red. "A nine... that's rhymes, right?" Then, with a smirk, he said "Cock."
"Block!" Claire immediately said with a grin, looking at him. The rhyming continued until Jenny tripped up and took a drink.
"One of the perks of this game... sometimes you get two turns in a row!" Claire joked and pulled another card. "Oh, that's boring" she said and showed her ten of spades. "Categories... umm..."
"So how does this work?" Fiona asked.
"Categories? We just name things matching whatever I pick, right?" Claire replied, not missing a beat.
"Yeah that's right." Andrew replied from your body.
"Hah, drink!" Claire exclaimed, pointing at the queen sitting in front of Fiona.
"Ugh, beer." Andrew complained and took a sip. "Y'know, this isn't too bad!" he said with some surprise, tasting beer with your mouth.
The categories continued - coffee drinks - until again, Jenny was the one to trip up and take a drink.
"C'mon Jen, you love your coffee!" Amy joked while reaching for her card. "Heaven!" she called as she flipped the seven of clubs. All hands shot up immediately - except that Harry fumbled. He obliged with his drink.
"Hey mate, your drink!" he called to Steve, who had again gotten distracted with his new body. Steve looked up, grinned sheepishly and drank.
You looked over at Amy next to you, who gave you a quick smile as if out of habit. Steve - or rather, Claire inside him - was having fun, and seemed to be really antsy. Steve had had more to drink than anyone else so far, and Claire was known to be a bit more... open-minded than most of the people at the table.
Now that it was your turn, you drew a card. You flipped a five - of spades, causing Andrew in your body to nearly freak out, before he realized the colors didn't match the five sitting in front of his girlfriend. "Well, looks like Mark needs a drink. Cheers, boys!" you call out in a jovial manner, causing all the guys to drink. Even Steve, who had to be prodded again. And then again for his mate's drink.
"Well looks like I'm up again!" Jenny said with some excitement, and drew her card. "Oho!" she flipped over another five - clubs, the matching pair to the card you had just drawn...The cards in front of both you and Jenny shined a bright gold, and the same dizziness that you had felt not too long ago once again enveloped your consciousness. Once again you blacked out and came to looking at yourself. This time, though, things were a bit different. For one, the buzz didn't completely go away.
The first thing you noticed was that you were wearing glasses. That and the long hair tickling your neck. You brought up your hands to brush at your neck, and feel a foreign sensation on your chest. Something tight and bouncy. It actually took you a split second to realize that you'd just bumped Jenny's boobs - your boobs, since you had just been swapped into her body.
That meant you were a chick! Instantly you squeeze your legs together, feeling the fabric of Jenny's jeans against your legs. That and the empty void between your legs that was definitely not there before. You blushed slightly, trying your hardest to not think about it. Instead, you tried to focus your attention back on the game.
"So guys drink?" Steve, now in Andrew's body, asked. You instinctively reached for your drink, which was now a bottle with a purple label. A bump from your right - you looked over, sending your long brown hair flying, and saw Fiona poking you in the shoulder - reminding you that you didn't qualify for this one anymore.
Steve did seem happy - or at least, very much not disappointed - to be out of Jenny's body, as he drank Andrew's whiskey concoction. You had to admit, it was a lot more distracting being Jenny than Andrew - and you were trying as hard as you could to not be distracted by all the differences between your usual and current bodies.
Finally, the next card was drawn - Fiona revealed the seven of spades. The card glowed, revealing a match across the table with Amy. After a second, the new Amy exclaimed "Heaven!" and shot her hand into the air.
Everyone but Fiona - now with her body under Amy's control - got their hands up in a second. You shot yours up quickly as well, feeling a jiggle on your chest. "So I drink?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah" replied your body, causing Fiona to giggle.
"I'm the quizmaster! Drink!" she exclaimed. "I just love this hair, Fee!" Amy nodded quietly, admiring her own new hair - now shorter, straighter, and jet-black. You saw yourself admiring Amy admiring herself, which made sense since last you checked, it was Andrew inside your body. Finally he drank, and everyone looked to Harry to draw the next card.
He flipped a Jack of diamonds, to mixed reactions from everyone. A Jack meant Never Have I Ever - three lives.
"Ok guys, here's how this works" Claire volunteered. "So usually you'd just play depending on who you are right now, right? Like Steve is Harry's mate, regardless of who is actually in Steve or Harry. Speaking of, Steve!" she said, causing Steve to look up once again.
"I'm listening!" he replied.
"Anyway!" Claire continued, cheerfully. "Since your memories are still your own, just go off that, ok? You aren't expected to know the secrets of whoever you are!"
"So I'll start, I guess..." Harry said, then grinned. "Never have I ever... been in another person's body!" Everyone groaned - he was the only one to remain unswitched at the table, so he alone did not tick down a life.
Next was your body. "Uhh... never have I ever been a chick" you watched yourself suppressing a grin. You looked around as once again, everyone except Harry - and your body, this time - lowered another finger.
After that was Steve. He giggled in a very much non masculine manner, before saying "Never have I ever fantasized about someone at this table!" before putting down his last finger. This cascaded around, and you watched as everyone - without exception - dropped a finger.
"Ooooohhhh, that's juicy!" Claire exclaimed before drinking. "Come on, everyone!" she said after she had hers, motioning for everyone - Harry and your old body excluded - to join her. You took a sip of Jenny's drink, noting it was quite refreshing and pleasant. "Mark is up next!"
Mark - your body - picked up a card, and gleefully revealed the six of diamonds. "Girls drink!" This meant you, though you were getting used to the concept that you were a girl. Not so much the actual sensations of it, which you were trying your hardest to avoid. You tightened your thighs slightly at the thought, before downing the remainder of your drink. Your body continued on after the girls at the table had finished. "And now Steve?"
Steve put down his cider, and pulled a card - the first King, the King of Hearts. The rest of the cider went into the cup in the middle of the table, and Steve excitedly began to giggle. "Ok, so I make a rule now, right?" he could hardly hold in his laughter. "Whenever you swap bodies with someone, you have to take off a piece of clothing!" he giggled, before hiccuping.
"There we have it, folks! Steve is drunk!" Andrew said, laughing. "Claire, if you would..." he motioned to the deck, who picked up a card.
You sat down at the table. You were the last player.
"Finally! We can start!" Jenny exclaimed. Jenny was tall, with long straight brunette hair and glasses. She wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. It was fair enough that she was excited - she had brought an enchanted deck of cards to this party, and fully intended to use them.
You surveyed the other participants in Jenny's game. To his left was his best friend, Steve. A bit on the short side, thin but with a quick wit and silver tongue, he was popular and well liked by almost everyone he met.
Next to him was the blonde hostess of the event, Claire. She was very short and very bubbly. Tonight she was dressed in a form-fitting silver dress that showed a generous amount of cleavage.
Andrew and Amy were next, a couple who looked remarkably similar. Both with black hair and sharp features, Andrew wore a dark green polo top with brown slacks. To contrast, Amy had on a white polka dot dress that went to her knees.
After Andrew sat Jenny, and next to her was her friend Fiona. Tall, with flowing red hair, green spaghetti strap top and white shorts, she was you favourite from the group. You hadn't spoken too many times before, but she seemed friendly enough to you.
Finally, between Fiona and yourself was Harry. He was tall and lanky, somewhat unkempt. More the loner of the group, but he had been friends with both Jenny and Steve since they were in primary school.
"So Jen. Remind us how this all works, will ya?" Steve asked in his usual tone of voice.
"Well you've all played King's Cup, right? Pretty much that." Jenny said.
"Then what's the big deal about your special deck?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, Jen, what's so special about it?" Amy added.
"I was hoping to keep that a surprise..." Jenny complained, but conceded after a collective circle of flat stares. "Fine, fine..."
"It's an enchanted deck. Right now it's set up to swap the bodies of whoever plays". Jenny said, to a lot of stunned faces.
"Yeah right..." Harry muttered.
"Trust me, it's real." Jenny replied. "Anyway. When you pull a card, do the usual. However. When someone else pulls the matching card... like the nine of diamonds to your nine of hearts, you'll swap bodies. The red Joker lets you swap with anyone of your choice, and the black Joker will let anyone at the table swap with you."
"Huh... this seems fun!" Claire said, bubbly as ever. "So what are we waiting for? Lets get our drinks and start!"
Everyone proceeded to the kitchen to grab something to drink. You settled on a beer. Some people were mixing an assortment of liquor into their cups, while others joined you and cracked open a bottle.
Finally, the game had begun. As the owner of the deck, Jenny was coerced into taking the first card.
"And it is..." Jenny drew a card and looked at it. "A six!" Jenny revealed the six of clubs and put it in front of her. "Cheers, ladies!" The girls all took a sip of their drinks.
Fiona was up next. She drew the three of spades. "Three's for me, right?" She asked and took another sip of her drink. Harry pulled an eight of clubs. "Alright... Steve, you can be my mate." Steve laughed and raised his glass. "You got it, bro"
You were up next. Picking up a card, a feeling of relief washes over you as you reveal the Ace of diamonds. No swapping just yet, then. "Waterfall!!" Steve exclaims, as you begin to chug your beer. A full ten seconds later, you put it down empty. Andrew shoots you a dirty look - you had made him empty his improvised whiskey sour. You shrug.
"Alright... let's do this!" Steve said before pulling a card. Then, he started laughing, and flipped his card - the six of spades. Jenny grinned, and everyone else stared. The black on the cards glowed a bright gold, causing both Jenny and Steve to shudder, before stopping still, visibly disoriented.
"Huh so..." Jenny said, before opening her eyes and staring across the table towards Steve. "Holy shit Jen! These things really work?" Jenny exclaimed before looking down at herself. "Wow..." she mumbled, hands running down her torso.
"Ahem." Steve cleared his voice. "Yes, Jenny, it worked. And I believe you owe me a drink..." Jenny-in-Steve pointed to the six. "Six for chicks, and you are a chick now..."
"Ahh... " Steve-in-Jenny sighed and picked up the drink in front of... her? You figured that was easier. "Well, here's to all my fellow girls..." she said with a grin. That was just like Steve, too. Taking it in stride, even if he had just swapped bodies with Jenny.
The next to draw a card was Amy. She flipped the five of hearts off the top. "Five's for guys!" She said cheerfully, bumping her boyfriend playfully.
"And you now..." the new Jenny said towards what had previoulsly been her body. Jenny-in-Steve obliged, taking a sip of Steve's cider.
"What about my mate?" Harry asked.
"Well you chose that dude over there" Jenny said, pointing at Steve. "So I guess he drinks!" Steve nodded and took another sip.
The rest of the circle proceeded without anyone causing any more swaps. Several drinks were passed around, and Fiona claimed the title of Quizmaster. It was your turn to draw, and you flipped over a... four of spades. Had the pair for that been flipped yet? You looked around the table and saw that it had - it was in front of Andrew.
As the card began to glow, much in the same way as it had when Jenny and Steve had previously swapped, you felt yourself begin to get dizzy. It felt... kind of like you'd had way too much to drink. The sensation faded after a second, right along with your senses and vision. When you came to, almost instantly judging by the interested and not concerned expressions around you, you found yourself staring at... yourself.
"Huh?" you muttered.
"Hey, another swap!" Claire exclaimed. "Too bad it's boring..."
You thought about what she was saying - and you were glad that your first swap had been with another guy. Even if it had to be Andrew. That way you were eased into this weird game. Still, being someone else - even if you hadn't crossed the gender barrier like Steve and Jenny - was weird. His clothes fit just slightly differently. Plus, you felt you had your left hand touching someone's stocking-covered leg. Someone who was leaning on you right now. You turned to see Amy half-slouching against you, looking very comfortable. So along with Andrew's body, you'd also gotten his girlfriend.
"Uh, AHEM" your body coughed. "Amy!"
"What?" she asked, then realized what had happened. Letting go at about the same time you removed your own hand from her leg, she went a bit red. "Oh."
"Come on! That's half the fun of this!" Steve said - or rather, Jenny from Steve's body. "Anyway, Mark, who're you assigning drinks to?"
From your body, Andrew looked at his card. A four let him assign two drinks each to two people. "Well, how about I send one to Mar.... Andrew." He was clearly also still struggling with this game. "And I guess one to Harry" he smirked.
His new drink mix was actually pretty nice, you thought. That could just have been his taste buds, since you didn't care for spirit mixes too much. Harry happily chugged his, causing Jenny-in-Steve to follow suit, while Steve-in-Jenny smirked.
"I'm loving that I can just watch myself drink like that..." Jenny exclaimed, causing you and several others to chuckle slightly.
"Well that makes it my turn, right?" Steve asked, drawing a card. Then, laughing, he revealed a nine of diamonds, matching the nine of hearts Claire had pulled on her last turn. The cards blazed, leaving both Claire and Steve disoriented for a second.
The new Claire was the first to speak up. "Gotta say it's nice being a girl again - no offense" she motioned to Jenny. "But this outfit is... " Claire looked down at her generous cleavage and tight dress "...not quite my usual style."
Meanwhile, the new Steve was looking with disbelief at his body, running his hands down his torso. "No fucking way..." he whispered, before having a hand slip under the table to cup his junk. "That's unreal!"
"Uh, Steve? Your card?" Steve-in-Jenny called out, amused at the sight of what was previously his body feeling itself up.
"Oh... sorry." Steve's hands came back into view, and he went a bit red. "A nine... that's rhymes, right?" Then, with a smirk, he said "Cock."
"Block!" Claire immediately said with a grin, looking at him. The rhyming continued until Jenny tripped up and took a drink.
"One of the perks of this game... sometimes you get two turns in a row!" Claire joked and pulled another card. "Oh, that's boring" she said and showed her ten of spades. "Categories... umm..."
"So how does this work?" Fiona asked.
"Categories? We just name things matching whatever I pick, right?" Claire replied, not missing a beat.
"Yeah that's right." Andrew replied from your body.
"Hah, drink!" Claire exclaimed, pointing at the queen sitting in front of Fiona.
"Ugh, beer." Andrew complained and took a sip. "Y'know, this isn't too bad!" he said with some surprise, tasting beer with your mouth.
The categories continued - coffee drinks - until again, Jenny was the one to trip up and take a drink.
"C'mon Jen, you love your coffee!" Amy joked while reaching for her card. "Heaven!" she called as she flipped the seven of clubs. All hands shot up immediately - except that Harry fumbled. He obliged with his drink.
"Hey mate, your drink!" he called to Steve, who had again gotten distracted with his new body. Steve looked up, grinned sheepishly and drank.
You looked over at Amy next to you, who gave you a quick smile as if out of habit. Steve - or rather, Claire inside him - was having fun, and seemed to be really antsy. Steve had had more to drink than anyone else so far, and Claire was known to be a bit more... open-minded than most of the people at the table.
Now that it was your turn, you drew a card. You flipped a five - of spades, causing Andrew in your body to nearly freak out, before he realized the colors didn't match the five sitting in front of his girlfriend. "Well, looks like Mark needs a drink. Cheers, boys!" you call out in a jovial manner, causing all the guys to drink. Even Steve, who had to be prodded again. And then again for his mate's drink.
"Well looks like I'm up again!" Jenny said with some excitement, and drew her card. "Oho!" she flipped over another five - clubs, the matching pair to the card you had just drawn...The cards in front of both you and Jenny shined a bright gold, and the same dizziness that you had felt not too long ago once again enveloped your consciousness. Once again you blacked out and came to looking at yourself. This time, though, things were a bit different. For one, the buzz didn't completely go away.
The first thing you noticed was that you were wearing glasses. That and the long hair tickling your neck. You brought up your hands to brush at your neck, and feel a foreign sensation on your chest. Something tight and bouncy. It actually took you a split second to realize that you'd just bumped Jenny's boobs - your boobs, since you had just been swapped into her body.
That meant you were a chick! Instantly you squeeze your legs together, feeling the fabric of Jenny's jeans against your legs. That and the empty void between your legs that was definitely not there before. You blushed slightly, trying your hardest to not think about it. Instead, you tried to focus your attention back on the game.
"So guys drink?" Steve, now in Andrew's body, asked. You instinctively reached for your drink, which was now a bottle with a purple label. A bump from your right - you looked over, sending your long brown hair flying, and saw Fiona poking you in the shoulder - reminding you that you didn't qualify for this one anymore.
Steve did seem happy - or at least, very much not disappointed - to be out of Jenny's body, as he drank Andrew's whiskey concoction. You had to admit, it was a lot more distracting being Jenny than Andrew - and you were trying as hard as you could to not be distracted by all the differences between your usual and current bodies.
Finally, the next card was drawn - Fiona revealed the seven of spades. The card glowed, revealing a match across the table with Amy. After a second, the new Amy exclaimed "Heaven!" and shot her hand into the air.
Everyone but Fiona - now with her body under Amy's control - got their hands up in a second. You shot yours up quickly as well, feeling a jiggle on your chest. "So I drink?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah" replied your body, causing Fiona to giggle.
"I'm the quizmaster! Drink!" she exclaimed. "I just love this hair, Fee!" Amy nodded quietly, admiring her own new hair - now shorter, straighter, and jet-black. You saw yourself admiring Amy admiring herself, which made sense since last you checked, it was Andrew inside your body. Finally he drank, and everyone looked to Harry to draw the next card.
He flipped a Jack of diamonds, to mixed reactions from everyone. A Jack meant Never Have I Ever - three lives.
"Ok guys, here's how this works" Claire volunteered. "So usually you'd just play depending on who you are right now, right? Like Steve is Harry's mate, regardless of who is actually in Steve or Harry. Speaking of, Steve!" she said, causing Steve to look up once again.
"I'm listening!" he replied.
"Anyway!" Claire continued, cheerfully. "Since your memories are still your own, just go off that, ok? You aren't expected to know the secrets of whoever you are!"
"So I'll start, I guess..." Harry said, then grinned. "Never have I ever... been in another person's body!" Everyone groaned - he was the only one to remain unswitched at the table, so he alone did not tick down a life.
Next was your body. "Uhh... never have I ever been a chick" you watched yourself suppressing a grin. You looked around as once again, everyone except Harry - and your body, this time - lowered another finger.
After that was Steve. He giggled in a very much non masculine manner, before saying "Never have I ever fantasized about someone at this table!" before putting down his last finger. This cascaded around, and you watched as everyone - without exception - dropped a finger.
"Ooooohhhh, that's juicy!" Claire exclaimed before drinking. "Come on, everyone!" she said after she had hers, motioning for everyone - Harry and your old body excluded - to join her. You took a sip of Jenny's drink, noting it was quite refreshing and pleasant. "Mark is up next!"
Mark - your body - picked up a card, and gleefully revealed the six of diamonds. "Girls drink!" This meant you, though you were getting used to the concept that you were a girl. Not so much the actual sensations of it, which you were trying your hardest to avoid. You tightened your thighs slightly at the thought, before downing the remainder of your drink. Your body continued on after the girls at the table had finished. "And now Steve?"
Steve put down his cider, and pulled a card - the first King, the King of Hearts. The rest of the cider went into the cup in the middle of the table, and Steve excitedly began to giggle. "Ok, so I make a rule now, right?" he could hardly hold in his laughter. "Whenever you swap bodies with someone, you have to take off a piece of clothing!" he giggled, before hiccuping.
"There we have it, folks! Steve is drunk!" Andrew said, laughing. "Claire, if you would..." he motioned to the deck, who picked up a card.
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Kent is young guy that has to spend the summer paying off his debt after accidentally damaging his bitch of a neighbour Julie’s car while playing a game with his friend Marcus. Kent resigns himself to working as Julie’s glorified servant, that is until he finds an odd looking idol that allows him to possess her body. Now with a summer of freedom ahead and Julie’s hot body to do with as he pleases, Kent is looking forward to making up for lost time and having some fun.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
possession
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I try not to think of myself as the bad guy. Yes, I found myself involved in the development of mind-control technology, but I did my best to protect the world from the worst of it. After that, things just kind of happened on their own.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
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Chapter by
Haxxare · 17 Dec 2021 -
Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
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I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. It took a little while to get warm, but it was really pleasant when it did. I love just relaxing under the hot water, before I start actually washing myself. Mostly because washing my hair is a huge pain. So I stood, arms crossed under my boobs, half-hugging myself as the hot water cascaded over my shoulders. It felt great - I might just stand here for a while.
A few minutes later - at least, I hope it was only a few minutes, since I'd been known to get 'stuck' in the shower for maybe half an hour without actually doing anything - I heard a noise that sounded like a knock on the door. Which was weird, because I lived alone, and I was sure that the front door was locked. It's probably nothing, just my imagination.
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Shit, did she hear me? I slipped through the door into the bathroom. Even though I was invisible and mostly incorporeal, I still bumped things. As far as I could tell, she hadn't. She still stood, unmoving, behind the shower curtain. Even though I could only see her silhouette, I could already tell she was hot. She was head shorter than me, slim, but with pretty nice boobs and a tight ass. Oh, I was looking forward to this.
I slowly crept closer, and stumbled over the bath mat in front of the vanity unit. I crashed into the counter, causing everything on it to shake. There's no way she didn't hear that...
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Alright, that was definitely not my imagination. I peeked around the shower curtain, and saw... nothing. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the room at all. Door was still barely open, and there was clearly no one there. Even all my stuff around the sink was still in place. So what was going on...?
I returned to my shower, and couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Despite the fact that there was clearly no one in here with me, I still felt uneasy. Maybe if I just finished up and got out, I'd feel better? Yeah, that's what I'd do.
I squeezed some shampoo into my hand, turned to face the shower head, and began to massage my scalp with my hands.
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Yeah, I definitely messed up there. She peeked out of the shower, letting me see her face for the first time. And damn, she was cute. Soft lips, button nose, long dirty blonde hair...
Judging by the fact that she didn't react to me at all, she truly couldn't see me. So it had worked after all. Now all I needed was to slip into the shower with her, then slip into her... if it all went to plan, she wouldn't even realize anything was different. Apparently, she would think anything I did while in control was her own idea.
More confidently now, I crept up to the shower, and snuck past the curtain. She was shampooing her head, facing away from me. Perfect! I stepped up close, and poked a foot into hers.
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I felt something tickling at my foot. I quickly kicked back, but there was nothing. This was turning out to be the creepiest shower experience of my life. I was about half-done shampooing - I'd leave it in for a minute, condition it, quickly scrub myself down, then get the hell out.
What the hell? The same side that had felt the tickle now felt like something was pushing into it. Kind of like a blanket - it wasn't moving me, but it was just pushing. I tried to move the leg away, but it felt heavy. Like it was actually wrapped up in a blanket. I had no idea what was going on, but I definitely wanted out of here. I'd almost consider not even finishing...<
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Ooh, that tingles. I'd managed to get one leg inside her - I couldn't control it until I'd completely taken over, but it did make the rest of the process easier. I slipped my other leg into hers - this one went in a lot smoother. Next, I tried to stand up straight and just take over the rest of her.
It didn't work.
I found myself precariously wobbling, rooted in by my legs. Alright, slowly it was then.
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The odd feeling had spread to my other leg, and whatever weirdness it was was now firmly pushing at my ass. It was a chore to move my legs at this point. Was I on some weird trip? I wasn't drunk or high... I thought. I hadn't done anything like that in at least a few days now...
The odd pressure had turned into slight numbness and warmth - kind of like when you sit in an awkward position, before the pins and needles sets in. That feeling crept up my legs - that I couldn't really move right now anyway - and past my hips.
I reached out an arm and slapped my leg. It felt completely normal - not numb, not swollen or anything. Then why the hell couldn't I move it?!
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The moment when I had thrust my hips into hers was odd. The biggest thing was that I went from having a dick - even if it was a ghost dick right now - to not having one. I wasn't in control of the girl's body yet so I couldn't feel anything, but it was still weird to just lose that part of myself so suddenly.
Continuing my efforts, I gradually pulled myself up until I was almost at her chest...
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The pressure was rising, followed now ever quicker by the numbness. It slowly climbed up my back, covering my whole chest, then up to my neck. My arms were next, starting at the shoulders. They began to feel heavy, so I stopped my shampooing.
You know - in hindsight, I probably should have gotten out of here sooner. Something was clearly wrong in here. But... I didn't.
And now, I stood, arms heavy at my sides, barely able to move my body through the numbness I felt all over. I would have screamed or something, but there was no point. No one was here anyway - and I was alone. Yet this was still happening.
I resigned myself to my fate, whatever it was.
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Almost done! All that was left was my head, and then it would all be over...
I slipped my chin forward, catching a mop of wet hair in my ghostly face. Instinctively I scrunched my eyes, but of course nothing happened. I went right through it. Right into the back of her head...
Then, I could feel again.
I felt the hot water on my body. Long hair sticking to my back. Arms at my sides. I went to open my eyes, instinctively brushing away the water with my hands. As I did that, my elbows squished into something that was altogether new to me.
I looked down with my new eyes, grinning like a madman as I saw two perfectly perky breasts hanging off my chest. I took them in my new hands, loving the feeling both of cupping them, and having them cupped. I pinched one of my nipples, experiencing a brand new shock of pleasure that spread through my entire body, concentrated in my crotch.
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The numbness had gone. In its place, I felt unbelievably giddy... and horny. My hands immediately began massaging my boobs. And for some reason it felt really good. Like, REALLY good. I was already wet, and every touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I pinched a nipple, and shuddered at the sensations that it caused. This never usually felt this good, but I sure as hell wasn't gonna complain!
I continued rubbing my hands over my body - I was so sensitive today! - feeling every curve. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but damn, I was hot. And I felt hot. My hands traced a path down around my belly button, before grabbing a handful of ass. Even my ass was damn fine!
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Holy shit! Was this what it always felt like for girls? This was fucking amazing! And I hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet! Her pussy was tingling in anticipation as I grabbed her ass, squeezing it between her own petite hands. I took her hand, and slid it around and down, probing for her snatch.
Whoa. Everything I had felt before this paled in comparison. Just touching down there shot a massive jolt of pleasure through my entire body, so much that my knees began to quiver. Hungry for more, I plunged my fingers deeper into the soft, sticky warmth of the girl's pussy.
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Wow... I continued fingering myself - a lot more clumsily than usual, but I didn't care. It just felt so good! My fingers dug hungrily in and out of my pussy, and I felt the pressure building in my core. I let out a moan, and continued my hand motions frantically. My other hand was forgotten - all I cared about right now was my vagina, and to continue doing what I was doing.
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"Ahhh! Aahhhh! Aaahhhhh!" I moaned, her voice coming out desperate as my hand continued to play around. The pleasure I felt from inside was overwhelming. I didn't ever imagine that it was possible to feel this good!
Then, the pleasure just exploded. One massive wave of pure bliss, emanating from my core, shaking my entire body. I was numb. All I felt was the pleasure, a million times stronger than anything I had ever felt as a guy.
Dark spots began to play at the corner of my vision, and I felt myself fading...
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I stood, slightly shaking, in the afterglow of what had to have been my most powerful orgasm ever. My breath was ragged and shallow, but I didn't care. It was totally worth it.
I should probably finish showering... in a few minutes. For now I'll just coast on that bliss.
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I woke up on my bed, with a raging hard-on, laptop still open with the spell up. Shame I was out of potion, though. I ran to the bathroom, using my memory of what had just happened to fuel my wank.
I had to get more of that potion...
No more chapters.