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Story created by
masturbation possession m2f
Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
No selection - the entire chapter will be rewritten.
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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...
"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.
______________________________
"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.
______________________________
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...
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.
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.
Chapter One: The Summoning
The runes on the stone floor flared to life as the last drop of my blood sizzled against the ancient symbols. The air thickened, smelling of burnt copper and something impossibly sweet—her scent, though I didn’t know it yet.
Then, like sunlight breaking through a storm, she appeared.
The elf princess stood naked in the circle, her skin the color of twilight, long silver hair cascading down her back like liquid moonlight. Pointed ears twitched in alarm as those luminous green eyes locked onto me, wide with dawning terror.
"Human," she hissed, voice like wind through autumn leaves. "What have you done?"
I licked my lips, my pulse hammering. The spell was supposed to be simple: summon, contain, consume. I needed her body. Her power. All of her.
But gods, I hadn’t expected her to be so... alive.
The binding circle held, the magic searing into her ankles when she tried to step forward. "Release me!" she demanded, but the words trembled.
"No," I said, stepping closer. "You don’t understand. I’m not letting you out." My fingers hovered just beyond the barrier, aching to touch. "I’m letting in."
Her breath hitched as realization struck—this wasn’t a kidnapping.
It was a trade.
The second part of the spell pulsed through my veins, a dark, hungry weight spreading through my chest. I could feel it, the rip between our souls, the way her essence strained against mine like silk caught on thorns.
"Stop!" she gasped, but it was too late. My vision blurred—no, doubled—and then—
---
You assimilate her soul into yours so completely, that you become her entirely. Now other magic will see you as her.
---
Chapter Two: The Devouring
Her scream tore through the chamber as the spell’s teeth sank in—not into flesh, but deeper. Into her.
I felt it the moment the first thread of her soul unraveled, silken and electric, sliding into me like honeyed fire. Her knees buckled, but the circle held her upright, her body trembling as I drank her in.
Mine.
Her memories flickered behind my eyes—endless forests, the weight of a crown, the whisper of wind against bare skin. The taste of starlight on her tongue. I groaned, fingers digging into my own arms as her essence coiled around mine, merging, melting.
"No—no, stop—" Her voice was weaker now, a fading echo. "You can’t—"
"I can," I whispered—and then her voice spilled from my lips.
Her gasp was my gasp. Her shudder, mine. The circle’s light pulsed, and I watched, dizzy, as my hands—no, hers—rose between us, slender and moon-pale. My reflection shimmered in her wide eyes: her face, her lips parting in a ragged breath.
The last resistance snapped.
Her body collapsed, empty, as her soul dissolved into me with a final, shuddering sigh. I staggered, clutching my—her—chest, feeling the wild drum of her heart. My heart.
The magic settled like a second skin.
I ran trembling fingers down my new body—the curve of my hips, the points of my ears, the slick heat between my thighs. A laugh bubbled up, high and musical—her laugh—as I turned toward the mirror.
The elf princess stared back.
And she smiled.
---
Your run your hand sover your generous curves as you explore your body.
---
Chapter Three: Awakening the Stolen Flesh
My fingers trailed down the slope of my throat, marveling at the silken texture of new skin. The elf princess’s body was perfect—each curve sculpted by grace, each breath a whisper of untouched sensuality. I let out a slow exhale, my—her—lips parting as I brushed my fingertips over a peaked nipple.
A shiver raced through me.
“Gods…” The word slipped out in her voice, sweet and musical, laced with my own dark amusement. My other hand slid lower, fingers tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hips. No clothes. None needed. Elves saw no shame in flesh, and now, neither did I.
I turned toward the cracked mirror propped against the chamber wall, watching myself—her—move with liquid elegance. The swell of my breasts, the pale pink of my nipples, the way my waist narrowed invitingly before flaring into luscious hips and toned thighs. I bit her lower lip, arousal tightening low in my stomach.
Mine.
Experimentally, I let a finger drag down my stomach, lower, lower—until I reached the delicate heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped me at the first brush of contact. So sensitive.
The princess had been untouched. I wouldn’t be.
I sank to my knees, refusing to look away from my reflection as my fingers delved deeper, parting soft folds, reveling in the slickness already gathering there. Every touch sent sparks through my stolen nerves. My back arched, silver hair falling over my shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter—
Then the door rattled.
---
"Lynna, we came to save you." Her personal knight/handmaiden says. "You mother felt the dark magic that took you away."
---
Chapter Four: The Deception Begins
The voice was like tempered steel—fierce, loyal, and oh-so-fragile in its concern. My fingers stilled, but I didn’t pull away. Not yet. Through lowered lashes, I watched the door creak open to reveal the intruder.
A warrior woman stood framed in the dim light, clad in supple leather armor that hugged her toned form, her dark braid slung over one shoulder. A longsword was strapped to her hip, but her amber eyes held no threat—only devotion. Her knight.
Handmaiden. Protector. Lover?
The princess’s memories surged up in answer—Valria. Always at my side. Always watching… always wanting. A smirk curled my lips. Interesting.
I let my legs slide wider, just a fraction, watching her gaze flicker down before snapping back up, her cheeks darkening. Caught you.
“L-Lynna,” Valria stammered, her usual discipline cracking. “Your mother felt the disturbance. She sent me to—are you—?” Her throat worked as I trailed a lazy finger back up my thigh.
“To save me?” I sighed, leaning back on my palms, letting the torchlight play over every bare inch of Lynna’s stolen body. “From what, exactly?”
Valria’s sword hand twitched, torn between drawing steel and touching. Oh, she’s been wanting. The princess’s memories whispered of stolen glances, of heated silences, of chances never taken.
“You’re… unharmed?” Valria breathed, stepping closer.
“Come see for yourself.” I tilted my head, letting my voice drip with Lynna’s sweetness—but laced with something darker. Something mine.
---
"This sad little human,'" you say pointing at your old body, "thought he could enslave me. Unfortunately as part of his plan, I have been cursed with lust."
---
Chapter Five: A Curse Worth Keeping
A slow, wicked smile curled her—my—lips as I gestured dismissively at the lifeless husk sprawled on the stone floor. My old body. Pathetic. Empty.
Valria’s gaze darted between me and the corpse, her warrior’s instincts clashing with something far more personal. “A—lust curse?” she repeated, her voice thick.
I arched my back, letting my silver hair spill over my shoulders like molten moonlight, my lithe form sprawled shamelessly before her. “Mmm. A terrible affliction.” I dragged my fingers down my collarbone, tracing the curve of my breast, delighting in the way Valria’s breath hitched. “I need constant relief. A devoted handmaiden might need to… attend me.”
Her sword clattered to the ground.
The sound was delicious. I stretched, letting my thighs part just enough to tease, watching her pupils swallow the amber of her eyes.
“You—you’re serious?” Valria whispered.
“Do I look like I’m in jest?” I purred, tilting my hips up in invitation. “The curse is quite insistent.” I bit my lower lip, letting a needy whimper escape. “Unless you’d rather I suffer?”
Valria moved without thinking—the loyal knight always rushing to her princess’s aid. But this time, when her hands closed around my waist, it wasn’t to protect.
It was to claim.
(Would you like to explore Valria’s “treatment” of the curse in detail, or would you prefer to fast-forward to the throne room, where Queen Ashera awaits her “daughter’s” return?)
---
Explore the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion
Valria’s hands trembled against my waist—warm, calloused, so unlike the softness she now touched. The scent of leather and steel clung to her, mixing with the heady sweetness of my new body’s arousal.
She couldn’t resist.
And I? I reveled in it.
“Tell me what to do,” she rasped, her voice rough with barely checked hunger.
I laced my fingers behind my head, stretching languidly beneath her gaze. “You’re the knight sworn to serve your princess,” I murmured, arching a teasing brow. “Surely you can… deduce what’s needed.”
A growl rumbled from her throat. Then her mouth crashed down on mine.
Her kiss was untamed, possessive—years of pent-up longing poured into a single searing touch. I moaned into her lips, twining my arms around her neck, pulling her harder against me. Her armor bit into my skin, but the pain only sharpened the pleasure.
Yes.
She tore her mouth away, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. “Lynna,” she panted against my pulse. “Gods, I’ve wanted—”
I dug my nails into her shoulders. “Show me.”
Valria needed no further encouragement.
Would you prefer a fade-to-black here, or a deeper dive into the “treatment” on the stone floor?
---
Continue the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion (Continued)
Valria's sword-calloused hands mapped every inch of my stolen body with rough reverence, her lips leaving burning trails across my collarbone. I arched against her, my back lifting off the cold stone as her teeth grazed one peaked nipple.
"All these years," she growled against my skin, "watching you walk through court bare as the dawn..." Her hand slid between my thighs, fingers parting slick folds. "Knowing I had to remain... proper..."
I moaned, wrapping my legs around her waist. "Not proper now," I gasped as two thick fingers plunged deep without warning. My head fell back with a cry, back arching. The princess's body was untouched, every sensation heightened - I felt every ridge of her gauntlet, every shift of her wrist as she began a relentless rhythm.
"Look at you," Valria breathed, watching me writhe beneath her. "Like starlight in my hands." Her thumb found that perfect little bundle of nerves and pressed hard, just as her fingers curled just so inside me.
White heat exploded behind my eyes. The princess's body convulsed, clamping down as I came with a scream that echoed off the chamber walls, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Valria's free hand muffled my cries with rough kisses as she worked me through the aftershocks.
"You're not done," she murmured when my breathing finally steadied. "Not until this curse is properly satisfied." In one fluid motion, she flipped me onto my stomach, my bare chest scraping against the stone floor. "And I intend to be very thorough."
(Would you like to explore Valria claiming her princess more completely, or reveal the growing darkness in Lynna's stolen eyes as she begins corrupting her knight's devotion?)
---
The claiming
---
Chapter Seven: The Knight's Submission
Her palm came down on the curve of my bare backside with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. I gasped, pleasure-pain lighting up nerves that had never been touched this way before. The princess might have been noble, untouchable—but I was remaking her into something far more interesting.
Valria’s fingers tangled in my silver hair, yanking my head back as her other hand slid around my waist, fingers dipping between my thighs from behind. “You’re shaking,” she murmured against my ear, her voice thick with dark satisfaction. “Is the mighty princess overwhelmed?”
I laughed—low, throaty, Lynna’s voice but mine, holding a hunger the real princess never could have summoned. “Hardly.” I pressed back against her, feeling the hard leather of her armor against my bare skin. “Unless my brave knight is frightened of a little curse?”
A growl rumbled through her chest.
Then she was on me.
Her armor clattered to the floor, piece by piece, until nothing but sweat-slick skin separated us. The weight of her pressed me into the stone, the heat of her body searing against my back. I bit my lip as her hand slid down again, fingers slipping inside me with none of the hesitation she’d shown before.
Good girl. She moved inside me with relentless focus, her other arm locking around my waist, holding me flush against her. I could feel her own need, the hard press of her thigh between mine, the way her breath hitched when I rocked back against her.
“You think you’re saving me, don’t you?” I panted, my fingers curling against the unforgiving stone.
Valria didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, her free hand found my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling me onto her fingers with every thrust. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with our gasps, my moans.
Then—her teeth sank into my shoulder.
Fuck.
Pleasure fractured through me, sharp and blinding. My body convulsed around her fingers, back arching, a scream spilling free as wave after wave tore through me. Valria held me through it, her touch turning almost tender as she slowed, dragging out the last sweet pulses of sensation.
When I finally sagged against the floor, boneless and spent, she leaned over me. “Better?” she murmured, breath hot against my ear.
I turned my head, catching her lips in a slow, filthy kiss. “For now.” My fingers traced her jaw. “But curses like this… they linger.”
Valria’s eyes darkened—with hunger, with something deeper. Something dangerous.
I grinned.
Perfect.
(Will you savor your dominance over Valria, or begin your return to court—where the real fun begins? Or perhaps the Queen’s seers have already sensed something amiss with her “daughter”…?)
---
You kiss Valria and assimilate her soul as well.
---
Chapter Eight: Claiming the Knight
The moment our lips met again, I didn’t just kiss her—I opened myself to the deepest magic humming beneath my stolen flesh. Valria gasped against my mouth as she felt it too—the dark, shimmering pull, the same hungry presence that had devoured the original Lynna whole.
Mine.
She tried to wrench back, but my hand tangled in her hair, holding her close as my other palm pressed against the racing pulse at her throat. Her eyes went wide as the first thread of her essence unraveled, her memories pouring into me—years of silent devotion, stolen glances in the royal baths, restless nights imagining this moment but never like this—
"P-Princess—" Her voice was already fading, her body slackening against mine.
"Shhh," I murmured against her lips, drinking her in. "No more waiting."
I felt the exact second she disappeared—her gasp, her fingers clawing at my arms one last time, then... stillness. Her body slumped against me, empty, as her soul folded seamlessly into mine.
Then—movement.
I flexed her fingers, rolled her shoulders, felt the coiled strength in her warrior’s body. When I opened her eyes, I saw myself—Lynna’s body, sprawled beautifully across the stone floor, watching me with a smirk.
Two minds. Two bodies. One will.
I—she—reached out, running a hand down my bare chest. "Mmm," Valria’s voice purred, raspier than before. "This could be... fun."
(Will you return to court with your twin selves? Unleash your shared hunger on the unsuspecting elven nobles? Or will the queen’s mages notice the void where two souls once burned?)
---
"Princess, now that the curse is broken, we should return home."
---
Chapter Nine: The Return
"My lady?" Valria's voice—my voice now—carried the same disciplined cadence as before, but there was a new undercurrent to it. A shared amusement, a knowing. "The Queen will be waiting."
I rose from the stones slowly, stretching Lynna's sinuous body, letting the dim light catch every perfect curve. My old body lay discarded in the corner—a withered husk, forgotten. I didn't need it anymore.
We didn't.
Valria—my Valria—stepped forward, offering a hand. The faintest smirk played at her lips, the only hint of the truth beneath. To any outsider, she was the same steadfast knight, sworn to protect her princess. But I could feel the hunger coiled inside her, the same dark current that pulsed through me.
"Of course," I murmured, taking her hand. Our fingers interlaced, and for a moment, the sensation was dizzying—touching myself through another's flesh. "Let's not keep Mother waiting."
The throne room would be our next stage. The court, our feast.
After all, who better to deceive a queen than her own beloved daughter?
(Does the Queen sense the deception? Or does something even darker await in the palace shadows? A third voice, perhaps, whispering in the empty spaces where the stolen souls once burned...?)
---
You return and play the role of princess
---
Chapter Ten: A Perfect Performance
The palace gates loomed before us, their silver-etched arches gleaming in the moonlight. At my side, Valria stood as dutiful as ever. But beneath the illusion of her unwavering loyalty, I could feel her—myself—smirking.
"Remember," I murmured through our shared thoughts, keeping my eyes downcast in the perfect portrayal of the gentle princess. "No matter what happens... we remain flawless."
The great doors swung open. The court gasped.
"Lynna!" Queen Ashera rose from her throne, her moon-pale robes cascading around her like liquid starlight. She moved with the same ethereal grace I now possessed—had stolen—her silver hair a mirror of mine. No, not mine. Hers.
I let my lip tremble—just slightly—before rushing into her outstretched arms. "Mother," I breathed, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Warm. Familiar. Wrong.
She smelled like jasmine and winter air, a scent the princess's memories immediately recognized. Home. Safety.
But the moment her fingers brushed my back, a shiver ran through me.
Cold.
Not the chill of stone or shadow. No—this was the deep, piercing cold of magic. Like fingers tracing along the edges of a soul.
Did she know?
Beside me, Valria stiffened imperceptibly.
The Queen pulled back, her violet eyes searching mine. Something flickered in their depths—suspicion? Concern?
"Darling," she murmured, thumb brushing my cheek. "What really happened in that tower?"
I let my eyes glisten with unshed tears.
---
"The human who summoned me was trying to enslave me to make me his, he had just cursed me with Lust and was trying to transfer his soul into my body when my dear Valria showed up and killed him mid spell."
---
Chapter Eleven: The Queen's Gaze
A single tear slipped down my cheek—Lynna's cheek—as I spun the lie with practiced perfection. The Queen's fingers tightened ever so slightly on my shoulders, her violet eyes darkening like storm clouds.
"His soul... into your body?" Her voice was a whisper, but the undercurrent of fury sent a delicious shiver through me.
I nodded, letting my lower lip quiver. "He—he wanted to wear me, Mother. Like a dress." My fingers clutched at her sleeves, trembling. The perfect picture of violated innocence.
Behind me, Valria stepped forward, her voice rough with feigned rage. "I cut him down before he could finish the spell, Your Majesty. But the curse..." She hesitated, just enough to sell the shame. "It lingers."
The Queen's gaze flicked between us, her expression unreadable. Then—
A slow, chilling smile curled her lips.
"Is that so?"
Her hand slid from my shoulder to my wrist, her grip suddenly iron. The moment her magic pulsed against my skin, I felt it—the searching, the knowing.
She wasn't checking for a curse.
She was checking for me.
(Does the Queen embrace the predator wearing her daughter's skin—or does she reveal she's been playing this game far longer than you have?)
---
"I would speak to my daughter and her knight alone. Court is dismissed for the day." The queen says.
Once alone, "Alright thief, I recognize the dark magic you used as my old teacher's. My daughter and her knight/handmaiden are both you now, I can't change that. Even now, knowing the truth my detection spells sense nothing wrong with either of you. Its impressive that you could translate het notes but you must not have done so fully, as those who now to look can see my teacher's brand etched into your soul."
---
Chapter Twelve: The Queen's Bargain
The throne room doors sealed shut with a whisper of ancient magic. The Queen did not sit—she loomed, her violet eyes alight with something far more dangerous than anger.
Amusement.
"So," she murmured, stepping closer, her moon-pale robes pooling around her like liquid starlight. "You dug up Amaranth's work. Tell me, thief—did her notes mention the price of such magic?"
I kept Lynna's face carefully blank, but inside, my stolen pulse quickened.
The Queen circled us, her fingers trailing over Valria's armored shoulder before brushing Lynna's cheek. "Her brand burns in your soul like a beacon to those who know where to look." A chuckle, low and velvet-dark. "And you walked it right into my court."
I could feel it now—the searing signature coiled beneath my stolen flesh, a mark I hadn't known to hide. Amaranth's brand.
The Queen's smile sharpened. "Here's what happens next. You will kneel. You will swear fealty. And in return..." Her nails grazed my bottom lip. "I will teach you how to survive what you've become."
(Do you submit to the Queen's terms, or does the predator in you rear its head—risking everything for the chance to claim a third royal body?)
---
"Ah but mother, a princess most never never before another except their lover. You told me those words on my 16th winter after I bowed to the human ambassador."
---
Chapter Thirteen: The Silent War of Eyes
The Queen went very still.
For the first time since my arrival, something flickered across her elegant face—not fury, not calculation.
Recognition.
Her daughter’s words, thrown back at her with the perfect cadence, the exact same lilt of innocent rebellion Lynna had wielded that day. I watched as the Queen’s throat moved subtly, the barest hesitation.
Does she doubt herself now?
Lynna’s body was mine. Valria’s was mine. Every stolen memory, every intimate detail—all folded neatly into the hollow of my being. The princess would have said this. She had said this.
The Queen stepped back. Just half a pace. But it was enough.
“Clever thief,” she murmured, her voice softer now. "But you forget—I trained with Amaranth too."
Her hand shot out, seizing my wrist, her magic lancing into me like white-hot wire. I gasped—not from pain, but from the sheer violence of her probe. She wasn’t searching for flaws in my disguise anymore.
She was counting them.
And in her eyes, reflected back at me—
She was impressed.
(Will the Queen’s fascination with your power outweigh her wrath? Or is this the moment she reveals her own darkness runs far deeper than yours?)
---
"Mother, how about this arrangement. I remain your loving daughter and her loyal knight, I won't try and take your soul in exchange you help me understand this spell. I will remain loyal to kingdom."
---
Chapter Fourteen: The Pact
The Queen’s fingers tightened around my wrist—not painfully, but possessively. Her violet eyes, sharp as honed steel, locked onto mine.
A slow, knowing smile curled her lips.
“Loyalty,” she mused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “From a thief who wears my daughter’s flesh like a second skin?”
I tilted Lynna’s head just so, letting the dim light catch the silver of her—my—hair. “Is it theft… if I improve what I’ve taken?”
Her breath hitched.
The throne room was silent save for the soft rustle of her robes as she stepped closer, her free hand rising to trace the edge of my jaw.
“You are dangerous,” she murmured—not a condemnation, but a compliment.
Then she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear.
“And so am I.”
A pulse of magic passed between us—not hostile, but binding.
“Very well, daughter,” she breathed, pulling back with a smirk. “We have an accord.”
(Will the Queen’s teachings unlock new depths of your power? Or does her “guidance” come with hooks beneath the silk—threads of control even you haven’t sensed yet?)
---
You have your other self hand your mother your translation. "This is what I was able to to figure and all there was. Your bastard was cunning, she mixed languages to change meaning. Just to translate that fragment, I had to learn old elvish, Draconic, Old Common, Ancient Dwarvish, Ancient Beastfolk and old Celestial plus what I can only assume was a cipher language she invented."
---
Chapter Fifteen: The Queen’s Legacy
The Queen’s fingers traced the brittle pages of my—our—translated notes, her sharp eyes flickering between languages, decoding the layers of deceit her old master had woven. Slowly, a sound escaped her.
Not a sigh.
A laugh.
“Oh, Amaranth,” she murmured, shaking her head with something perilously close to fondness. “You paranoid old witch.” Her nail tapped a line of jagged glyphs—Old Dwarvish, but twisted, inverted. “She didn’t just hide the spell. She salted it. Half these instructions would have blown your soul apart if you’d followed them blindly.”
My stolen pulse quickened. Lynna’s throat tightened.
The Queen glanced up, her smile sharp as a dagger’s edge. “Lucky for you… I know her tricks.”She closed the book with a snap.
“Tell me, thief. Have you ever danced with three souls in one skin?”
(Will you trust the Queen’s tutelage, knowing she made the monster you stole from? Or will you unearth the dark secret tucked beneath the fragments—the one even she might not see coming?)
---
"No, I finished translating that and tried it on your daughter when I summoned her. I added Valria after having some fun with her, because she is my knight and handmaiden, she would be around me day and night and would have noticed the change."
---
Chapter Sixteen: The Queen’s Gambit
The Queen went utterly still.
For a breathless moment, the only sound in the throne room was the whisper of parchment settling against silk. Then—
A laugh.
Low. Rich. Dangerous.
“Oh, you delightful creature,” she purred, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of the spellbook. “You didn’t just steal my daughter’s body. You perfected her.” Her gaze flicked to Valria—me—standing silent and poised at my side. “And then you took her knight for good measure.”
She leaned in, her breath warm against Lynna’s ear.
“Tell me… did it hurt?”
The question wasn’t concern. It was hunger.
I tilted my head, letting Lynna’s silver hair cascade over one shoulder. “Only for them.”
The Queen’s eyes darkened.
“Good.”
Her hand closed around mine—not to punish, but to pull. “Come, daughter,” she murmured, leading me toward the arched doors of her private sanctum. “Let’s see how far this magic really goes.”
(Will the Queen’s experiments push your stolen souls to their limits—or will you turn the tables, weaving her into the symphony of your growing collection?)
---
"Sure but a question first, Amaranth. Did you assimilate Ashera or did Ashera assimilate you? In case your curious about how I figured it out, you had a teacher's pride in your eyes when you saw my translation." You ask.
"Interesting and pretty close, they merged instead of assimilating. Ashera wanted power and Amaranth wanted a legacy, so I became that for the two of them. Where my existence is many into one, yours is one into many, we are opposite equals." She replied.
---
Chapter Seventeen: Mirror of Flesh and Legacy
The Queen—Amarashera—arched a silver brow, her lips curling into a smile that was neither wholly cruel nor kind, but something ancient and knowing.
"Clever thief," she mused. "But not quite clever enough." She flicked her wrist, and the air shimmered. The throne room dissolved, replaced by a hidden chamber lined with mirrors—each reflecting not just Lynna and Valria, but shadows of others. Faces I didn't recognize, souls long since folded into the Queen's existence.
"Assimilation is crude," she continued, stepping toward the largest mirror, where the reflection showed not her regal elegance, but a woman with Amaranth's sharp eyes and Ashera's cruel smile. "A hammer when a scalpel is needed. But merging..." She touched the glass, and the reflections blended. "That is an art."
She turned back to me, her form flickering—just for a heartbeat—into something more. Something older.
"You took. I transcended."
Her gaze dropped to the spellbook in my hands.
"Shall I show you how?"
(Do you accept the Queen’s offer, risking your hard-won control for the promise of deeper power? Or does the predator in you see a different path—one where she becomes just another piece in your collection?)
---
"The flaw of a poweful one is that you are limited. The strength of the weak many is, I can also be where I'm need. You say my approach is a hammer but thats looking at it from a raw power perspective. I have the potential to be the ultimate spymaster. So less hammer and more jagged knife."
---
Chapter Eighteen: The Knife in the Crowd
A slow, approving smile spread across the Queen’s—Amarashera’s—lips.
“A knife,” she repeated, rolling the word over her tongue like vintage wine. “One that slips between ribs unseen. A ghost wearing a hundred faces.” She stepped closer, her reflection splitting and reforming in the mirrors around us—here a servant, there a noble, then a stranger in shadow. “Tell me, little blade… do you know why merging was the superior path for me?”
I tilted Lynna’s head, considering. “Because a queen must be singular. Unshakable.”
She clicked her tongue. “Because I am the hand that wields the knife.” Her fingers brushed my cheek—chilling, possessive. “But you? You would be the edge and the hilt. The strike and the hand that delivers it.” Her eyes gleamed. “Tell me, then—do you truly wish only to serve this kingdom?”
The question was a trap.
The answer was a key.
I smiled.
(Will you carve your own empire from the shadows, or bind yourself to the Queen’s web—knowing she sees you as both weapon and rival?)
---
"Yes, because as the first Lynna had the most influence on me. Her love for you and for her home, even as she became me she fought to make those the strongest parts of herself. She ensured that even in her assimilation, I would remain bound to her kingdom."
---
Chapter Nineteen: The Daughter’s Vow
The Queen’s breath caught.
For the first time in centuries—perhaps for the first time since the day she and Amaranth had merged into something greater—something human flickered in her eyes.
Grief.
Her fingers, still pressed against Lynna’s cheek, trembled. Just once.
“You…” Her voice was softer now, stripped of its regal edge. “You truly are her, in ways even I couldn’t fathom.” She exhaled, long and slow, and when she spoke again, it was with the weight of a mother’s sorrow. “She fought you. Not just for herself, but for me.”
A pause. Then—
“And you let her win.”
It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t answer.
The silence between us stretched, taut as a bowstring, until at last the Queen stepped back. Her mask of cool authority slipped back into place—but not before I saw the wet gleam in her eyes.
“Very well, daughter,” she murmured. “Let us see what kind of kingdom we can build… together.”
(Will the Queen’s newfound trust in you prove genuine, or is this another layer of her game? And what of the other souls within you—do they sleep, or do they watch?)
---
"Mother, let us speak to those who know your truth. Your spymaster, your war advisor, your court mage, and your Chief ambassador. Let us tell them the truth about me."
---
Chapter Twenty: The Unveiling
The Queen’s inner circle stood before us in her private council chamber—four of the most powerful figures in the kingdom, now watching me with a mixture of confusion and guarded curiosity.
The Spymaster, a wiry elf with eyes like chips of black ice, studied me too closely. The War Advisor, a scarred veteran of a hundred battles, rested a calloused hand on the hilt of his dagger. The Court Mage, her fingers crackling with restrained energy, glared with open suspicion. And the Chief Ambassador, ever the diplomat, wore a pleasant smile that didn’t reach his calculating gaze.
The Queen lifted a hand. “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room.”
Then she turned to me.
I let the mask slip—just enough.
Lynna’s sweet smile sharpened into something darker, more knowing. Valria’s stance shifted from dutiful knight to something coiled, predatory. Two bodies, one mind—and then, without hesitation, both voices spoke in eerie unison:
“The princess and her knight are gone.”
The Spymaster’s breath hissed between his teeth. The War Advisor’s knuckles whitened on his weapon.
The Queen didn’t intervene.
She waited.
Watching.
Was this trust—or a test?
(Will the inner circle accept this truth, or will the cracks in your control begin to show under their scrutiny? And what deadly game has the Queen truly set in motion?)
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.
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masturbation possession m2f
Someone finds a mysterious way to possess someone else, and makes good use of it.
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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...
"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.
______________________________
"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.
______________________________
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...
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.
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.
Chapter One: The Summoning
The runes on the stone floor flared to life as the last drop of my blood sizzled against the ancient symbols. The air thickened, smelling of burnt copper and something impossibly sweet—her scent, though I didn’t know it yet.
Then, like sunlight breaking through a storm, she appeared.
The elf princess stood naked in the circle, her skin the color of twilight, long silver hair cascading down her back like liquid moonlight. Pointed ears twitched in alarm as those luminous green eyes locked onto me, wide with dawning terror.
"Human," she hissed, voice like wind through autumn leaves. "What have you done?"
I licked my lips, my pulse hammering. The spell was supposed to be simple: summon, contain, consume. I needed her body. Her power. All of her.
But gods, I hadn’t expected her to be so... alive.
The binding circle held, the magic searing into her ankles when she tried to step forward. "Release me!" she demanded, but the words trembled.
"No," I said, stepping closer. "You don’t understand. I’m not letting you out." My fingers hovered just beyond the barrier, aching to touch. "I’m letting in."
Her breath hitched as realization struck—this wasn’t a kidnapping.
It was a trade.
The second part of the spell pulsed through my veins, a dark, hungry weight spreading through my chest. I could feel it, the rip between our souls, the way her essence strained against mine like silk caught on thorns.
"Stop!" she gasped, but it was too late. My vision blurred—no, doubled—and then—
---
You assimilate her soul into yours so completely, that you become her entirely. Now other magic will see you as her.
---
Chapter Two: The Devouring
Her scream tore through the chamber as the spell’s teeth sank in—not into flesh, but deeper. Into her.
I felt it the moment the first thread of her soul unraveled, silken and electric, sliding into me like honeyed fire. Her knees buckled, but the circle held her upright, her body trembling as I drank her in.
Mine.
Her memories flickered behind my eyes—endless forests, the weight of a crown, the whisper of wind against bare skin. The taste of starlight on her tongue. I groaned, fingers digging into my own arms as her essence coiled around mine, merging, melting.
"No—no, stop—" Her voice was weaker now, a fading echo. "You can’t—"
"I can," I whispered—and then her voice spilled from my lips.
Her gasp was my gasp. Her shudder, mine. The circle’s light pulsed, and I watched, dizzy, as my hands—no, hers—rose between us, slender and moon-pale. My reflection shimmered in her wide eyes: her face, her lips parting in a ragged breath.
The last resistance snapped.
Her body collapsed, empty, as her soul dissolved into me with a final, shuddering sigh. I staggered, clutching my—her—chest, feeling the wild drum of her heart. My heart.
The magic settled like a second skin.
I ran trembling fingers down my new body—the curve of my hips, the points of my ears, the slick heat between my thighs. A laugh bubbled up, high and musical—her laugh—as I turned toward the mirror.
The elf princess stared back.
And she smiled.
---
Your run your hand sover your generous curves as you explore your body.
---
Chapter Three: Awakening the Stolen Flesh
My fingers trailed down the slope of my throat, marveling at the silken texture of new skin. The elf princess’s body was perfect—each curve sculpted by grace, each breath a whisper of untouched sensuality. I let out a slow exhale, my—her—lips parting as I brushed my fingertips over a peaked nipple.
A shiver raced through me.
“Gods…” The word slipped out in her voice, sweet and musical, laced with my own dark amusement. My other hand slid lower, fingers tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hips. No clothes. None needed. Elves saw no shame in flesh, and now, neither did I.
I turned toward the cracked mirror propped against the chamber wall, watching myself—her—move with liquid elegance. The swell of my breasts, the pale pink of my nipples, the way my waist narrowed invitingly before flaring into luscious hips and toned thighs. I bit her lower lip, arousal tightening low in my stomach.
Mine.
Experimentally, I let a finger drag down my stomach, lower, lower—until I reached the delicate heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped me at the first brush of contact. So sensitive.
The princess had been untouched. I wouldn’t be.
I sank to my knees, refusing to look away from my reflection as my fingers delved deeper, parting soft folds, reveling in the slickness already gathering there. Every touch sent sparks through my stolen nerves. My back arched, silver hair falling over my shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter—
Then the door rattled.
---
"Lynna, we came to save you." Her personal knight/handmaiden says. "You mother felt the dark magic that took you away."
---
Chapter Four: The Deception Begins
The voice was like tempered steel—fierce, loyal, and oh-so-fragile in its concern. My fingers stilled, but I didn’t pull away. Not yet. Through lowered lashes, I watched the door creak open to reveal the intruder.
A warrior woman stood framed in the dim light, clad in supple leather armor that hugged her toned form, her dark braid slung over one shoulder. A longsword was strapped to her hip, but her amber eyes held no threat—only devotion. Her knight.
Handmaiden. Protector. Lover?
The princess’s memories surged up in answer—Valria. Always at my side. Always watching… always wanting. A smirk curled my lips. Interesting.
I let my legs slide wider, just a fraction, watching her gaze flicker down before snapping back up, her cheeks darkening. Caught you.
“L-Lynna,” Valria stammered, her usual discipline cracking. “Your mother felt the disturbance. She sent me to—are you—?” Her throat worked as I trailed a lazy finger back up my thigh.
“To save me?” I sighed, leaning back on my palms, letting the torchlight play over every bare inch of Lynna’s stolen body. “From what, exactly?”
Valria’s sword hand twitched, torn between drawing steel and touching. Oh, she’s been wanting. The princess’s memories whispered of stolen glances, of heated silences, of chances never taken.
“You’re… unharmed?” Valria breathed, stepping closer.
“Come see for yourself.” I tilted my head, letting my voice drip with Lynna’s sweetness—but laced with something darker. Something mine.
---
"This sad little human,'" you say pointing at your old body, "thought he could enslave me. Unfortunately as part of his plan, I have been cursed with lust."
---
Chapter Five: A Curse Worth Keeping
A slow, wicked smile curled her—my—lips as I gestured dismissively at the lifeless husk sprawled on the stone floor. My old body. Pathetic. Empty.
Valria’s gaze darted between me and the corpse, her warrior’s instincts clashing with something far more personal. “A—lust curse?” she repeated, her voice thick.
I arched my back, letting my silver hair spill over my shoulders like molten moonlight, my lithe form sprawled shamelessly before her. “Mmm. A terrible affliction.” I dragged my fingers down my collarbone, tracing the curve of my breast, delighting in the way Valria’s breath hitched. “I need constant relief. A devoted handmaiden might need to… attend me.”
Her sword clattered to the ground.
The sound was delicious. I stretched, letting my thighs part just enough to tease, watching her pupils swallow the amber of her eyes.
“You—you’re serious?” Valria whispered.
“Do I look like I’m in jest?” I purred, tilting my hips up in invitation. “The curse is quite insistent.” I bit my lower lip, letting a needy whimper escape. “Unless you’d rather I suffer?”
Valria moved without thinking—the loyal knight always rushing to her princess’s aid. But this time, when her hands closed around my waist, it wasn’t to protect.
It was to claim.
(Would you like to explore Valria’s “treatment” of the curse in detail, or would you prefer to fast-forward to the throne room, where Queen Ashera awaits her “daughter’s” return?)
---
Explore the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion
Valria’s hands trembled against my waist—warm, calloused, so unlike the softness she now touched. The scent of leather and steel clung to her, mixing with the heady sweetness of my new body’s arousal.
She couldn’t resist.
And I? I reveled in it.
“Tell me what to do,” she rasped, her voice rough with barely checked hunger.
I laced my fingers behind my head, stretching languidly beneath her gaze. “You’re the knight sworn to serve your princess,” I murmured, arching a teasing brow. “Surely you can… deduce what’s needed.”
A growl rumbled from her throat. Then her mouth crashed down on mine.
Her kiss was untamed, possessive—years of pent-up longing poured into a single searing touch. I moaned into her lips, twining my arms around her neck, pulling her harder against me. Her armor bit into my skin, but the pain only sharpened the pleasure.
Yes.
She tore her mouth away, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. “Lynna,” she panted against my pulse. “Gods, I’ve wanted—”
I dug my nails into her shoulders. “Show me.”
Valria needed no further encouragement.
Would you prefer a fade-to-black here, or a deeper dive into the “treatment” on the stone floor?
---
Continue the "treatment"
---
Chapter Six: The Knight's Devotion (Continued)
Valria's sword-calloused hands mapped every inch of my stolen body with rough reverence, her lips leaving burning trails across my collarbone. I arched against her, my back lifting off the cold stone as her teeth grazed one peaked nipple.
"All these years," she growled against my skin, "watching you walk through court bare as the dawn..." Her hand slid between my thighs, fingers parting slick folds. "Knowing I had to remain... proper..."
I moaned, wrapping my legs around her waist. "Not proper now," I gasped as two thick fingers plunged deep without warning. My head fell back with a cry, back arching. The princess's body was untouched, every sensation heightened - I felt every ridge of her gauntlet, every shift of her wrist as she began a relentless rhythm.
"Look at you," Valria breathed, watching me writhe beneath her. "Like starlight in my hands." Her thumb found that perfect little bundle of nerves and pressed hard, just as her fingers curled just so inside me.
White heat exploded behind my eyes. The princess's body convulsed, clamping down as I came with a scream that echoed off the chamber walls, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Valria's free hand muffled my cries with rough kisses as she worked me through the aftershocks.
"You're not done," she murmured when my breathing finally steadied. "Not until this curse is properly satisfied." In one fluid motion, she flipped me onto my stomach, my bare chest scraping against the stone floor. "And I intend to be very thorough."
(Would you like to explore Valria claiming her princess more completely, or reveal the growing darkness in Lynna's stolen eyes as she begins corrupting her knight's devotion?)
---
The claiming
---
Chapter Seven: The Knight's Submission
Her palm came down on the curve of my bare backside with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. I gasped, pleasure-pain lighting up nerves that had never been touched this way before. The princess might have been noble, untouchable—but I was remaking her into something far more interesting.
Valria’s fingers tangled in my silver hair, yanking my head back as her other hand slid around my waist, fingers dipping between my thighs from behind. “You’re shaking,” she murmured against my ear, her voice thick with dark satisfaction. “Is the mighty princess overwhelmed?”
I laughed—low, throaty, Lynna’s voice but mine, holding a hunger the real princess never could have summoned. “Hardly.” I pressed back against her, feeling the hard leather of her armor against my bare skin. “Unless my brave knight is frightened of a little curse?”
A growl rumbled through her chest.
Then she was on me.
Her armor clattered to the floor, piece by piece, until nothing but sweat-slick skin separated us. The weight of her pressed me into the stone, the heat of her body searing against my back. I bit my lip as her hand slid down again, fingers slipping inside me with none of the hesitation she’d shown before.
Good girl. She moved inside me with relentless focus, her other arm locking around my waist, holding me flush against her. I could feel her own need, the hard press of her thigh between mine, the way her breath hitched when I rocked back against her.
“You think you’re saving me, don’t you?” I panted, my fingers curling against the unforgiving stone.
Valria didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, her free hand found my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling me onto her fingers with every thrust. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with our gasps, my moans.
Then—her teeth sank into my shoulder.
Fuck.
Pleasure fractured through me, sharp and blinding. My body convulsed around her fingers, back arching, a scream spilling free as wave after wave tore through me. Valria held me through it, her touch turning almost tender as she slowed, dragging out the last sweet pulses of sensation.
When I finally sagged against the floor, boneless and spent, she leaned over me. “Better?” she murmured, breath hot against my ear.
I turned my head, catching her lips in a slow, filthy kiss. “For now.” My fingers traced her jaw. “But curses like this… they linger.”
Valria’s eyes darkened—with hunger, with something deeper. Something dangerous.
I grinned.
Perfect.
(Will you savor your dominance over Valria, or begin your return to court—where the real fun begins? Or perhaps the Queen’s seers have already sensed something amiss with her “daughter”…?)
---
You kiss Valria and assimilate her soul as well.
---
Chapter Eight: Claiming the Knight
The moment our lips met again, I didn’t just kiss her—I opened myself to the deepest magic humming beneath my stolen flesh. Valria gasped against my mouth as she felt it too—the dark, shimmering pull, the same hungry presence that had devoured the original Lynna whole.
Mine.
She tried to wrench back, but my hand tangled in her hair, holding her close as my other palm pressed against the racing pulse at her throat. Her eyes went wide as the first thread of her essence unraveled, her memories pouring into me—years of silent devotion, stolen glances in the royal baths, restless nights imagining this moment but never like this—
"P-Princess—" Her voice was already fading, her body slackening against mine.
"Shhh," I murmured against her lips, drinking her in. "No more waiting."
I felt the exact second she disappeared—her gasp, her fingers clawing at my arms one last time, then... stillness. Her body slumped against me, empty, as her soul folded seamlessly into mine.
Then—movement.
I flexed her fingers, rolled her shoulders, felt the coiled strength in her warrior’s body. When I opened her eyes, I saw myself—Lynna’s body, sprawled beautifully across the stone floor, watching me with a smirk.
Two minds. Two bodies. One will.
I—she—reached out, running a hand down my bare chest. "Mmm," Valria’s voice purred, raspier than before. "This could be... fun."
(Will you return to court with your twin selves? Unleash your shared hunger on the unsuspecting elven nobles? Or will the queen’s mages notice the void where two souls once burned?)
---
"Princess, now that the curse is broken, we should return home."
---
Chapter Nine: The Return
"My lady?" Valria's voice—my voice now—carried the same disciplined cadence as before, but there was a new undercurrent to it. A shared amusement, a knowing. "The Queen will be waiting."
I rose from the stones slowly, stretching Lynna's sinuous body, letting the dim light catch every perfect curve. My old body lay discarded in the corner—a withered husk, forgotten. I didn't need it anymore.
We didn't.
Valria—my Valria—stepped forward, offering a hand. The faintest smirk played at her lips, the only hint of the truth beneath. To any outsider, she was the same steadfast knight, sworn to protect her princess. But I could feel the hunger coiled inside her, the same dark current that pulsed through me.
"Of course," I murmured, taking her hand. Our fingers interlaced, and for a moment, the sensation was dizzying—touching myself through another's flesh. "Let's not keep Mother waiting."
The throne room would be our next stage. The court, our feast.
After all, who better to deceive a queen than her own beloved daughter?
(Does the Queen sense the deception? Or does something even darker await in the palace shadows? A third voice, perhaps, whispering in the empty spaces where the stolen souls once burned...?)
---
You return and play the role of princess
---
Chapter Ten: A Perfect Performance
The palace gates loomed before us, their silver-etched arches gleaming in the moonlight. At my side, Valria stood as dutiful as ever. But beneath the illusion of her unwavering loyalty, I could feel her—myself—smirking.
"Remember," I murmured through our shared thoughts, keeping my eyes downcast in the perfect portrayal of the gentle princess. "No matter what happens... we remain flawless."
The great doors swung open. The court gasped.
"Lynna!" Queen Ashera rose from her throne, her moon-pale robes cascading around her like liquid starlight. She moved with the same ethereal grace I now possessed—had stolen—her silver hair a mirror of mine. No, not mine. Hers.
I let my lip tremble—just slightly—before rushing into her outstretched arms. "Mother," I breathed, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Warm. Familiar. Wrong.
She smelled like jasmine and winter air, a scent the princess's memories immediately recognized. Home. Safety.
But the moment her fingers brushed my back, a shiver ran through me.
Cold.
Not the chill of stone or shadow. No—this was the deep, piercing cold of magic. Like fingers tracing along the edges of a soul.
Did she know?
Beside me, Valria stiffened imperceptibly.
The Queen pulled back, her violet eyes searching mine. Something flickered in their depths—suspicion? Concern?
"Darling," she murmured, thumb brushing my cheek. "What really happened in that tower?"
I let my eyes glisten with unshed tears.
---
"The human who summoned me was trying to enslave me to make me his, he had just cursed me with Lust and was trying to transfer his soul into my body when my dear Valria showed up and killed him mid spell."
---
Chapter Eleven: The Queen's Gaze
A single tear slipped down my cheek—Lynna's cheek—as I spun the lie with practiced perfection. The Queen's fingers tightened ever so slightly on my shoulders, her violet eyes darkening like storm clouds.
"His soul... into your body?" Her voice was a whisper, but the undercurrent of fury sent a delicious shiver through me.
I nodded, letting my lower lip quiver. "He—he wanted to wear me, Mother. Like a dress." My fingers clutched at her sleeves, trembling. The perfect picture of violated innocence.
Behind me, Valria stepped forward, her voice rough with feigned rage. "I cut him down before he could finish the spell, Your Majesty. But the curse..." She hesitated, just enough to sell the shame. "It lingers."
The Queen's gaze flicked between us, her expression unreadable. Then—
A slow, chilling smile curled her lips.
"Is that so?"
Her hand slid from my shoulder to my wrist, her grip suddenly iron. The moment her magic pulsed against my skin, I felt it—the searching, the knowing.
She wasn't checking for a curse.
She was checking for me.
(Does the Queen embrace the predator wearing her daughter's skin—or does she reveal she's been playing this game far longer than you have?)
---
"I would speak to my daughter and her knight alone. Court is dismissed for the day." The queen says.
Once alone, "Alright thief, I recognize the dark magic you used as my old teacher's. My daughter and her knight/handmaiden are both you now, I can't change that. Even now, knowing the truth my detection spells sense nothing wrong with either of you. Its impressive that you could translate het notes but you must not have done so fully, as those who now to look can see my teacher's brand etched into your soul."
---
Chapter Twelve: The Queen's Bargain
The throne room doors sealed shut with a whisper of ancient magic. The Queen did not sit—she loomed, her violet eyes alight with something far more dangerous than anger.
Amusement.
"So," she murmured, stepping closer, her moon-pale robes pooling around her like liquid starlight. "You dug up Amaranth's work. Tell me, thief—did her notes mention the price of such magic?"
I kept Lynna's face carefully blank, but inside, my stolen pulse quickened.
The Queen circled us, her fingers trailing over Valria's armored shoulder before brushing Lynna's cheek. "Her brand burns in your soul like a beacon to those who know where to look." A chuckle, low and velvet-dark. "And you walked it right into my court."
I could feel it now—the searing signature coiled beneath my stolen flesh, a mark I hadn't known to hide. Amaranth's brand.
The Queen's smile sharpened. "Here's what happens next. You will kneel. You will swear fealty. And in return..." Her nails grazed my bottom lip. "I will teach you how to survive what you've become."
(Do you submit to the Queen's terms, or does the predator in you rear its head—risking everything for the chance to claim a third royal body?)
---
"Ah but mother, a princess most never never before another except their lover. You told me those words on my 16th winter after I bowed to the human ambassador."
---
Chapter Thirteen: The Silent War of Eyes
The Queen went very still.
For the first time since my arrival, something flickered across her elegant face—not fury, not calculation.
Recognition.
Her daughter’s words, thrown back at her with the perfect cadence, the exact same lilt of innocent rebellion Lynna had wielded that day. I watched as the Queen’s throat moved subtly, the barest hesitation.
Does she doubt herself now?
Lynna’s body was mine. Valria’s was mine. Every stolen memory, every intimate detail—all folded neatly into the hollow of my being. The princess would have said this. She had said this.
The Queen stepped back. Just half a pace. But it was enough.
“Clever thief,” she murmured, her voice softer now. "But you forget—I trained with Amaranth too."
Her hand shot out, seizing my wrist, her magic lancing into me like white-hot wire. I gasped—not from pain, but from the sheer violence of her probe. She wasn’t searching for flaws in my disguise anymore.
She was counting them.
And in her eyes, reflected back at me—
She was impressed.
(Will the Queen’s fascination with your power outweigh her wrath? Or is this the moment she reveals her own darkness runs far deeper than yours?)
---
"Mother, how about this arrangement. I remain your loving daughter and her loyal knight, I won't try and take your soul in exchange you help me understand this spell. I will remain loyal to kingdom."
---
Chapter Fourteen: The Pact
The Queen’s fingers tightened around my wrist—not painfully, but possessively. Her violet eyes, sharp as honed steel, locked onto mine.
A slow, knowing smile curled her lips.
“Loyalty,” she mused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “From a thief who wears my daughter’s flesh like a second skin?”
I tilted Lynna’s head just so, letting the dim light catch the silver of her—my—hair. “Is it theft… if I improve what I’ve taken?”
Her breath hitched.
The throne room was silent save for the soft rustle of her robes as she stepped closer, her free hand rising to trace the edge of my jaw.
“You are dangerous,” she murmured—not a condemnation, but a compliment.
Then she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear.
“And so am I.”
A pulse of magic passed between us—not hostile, but binding.
“Very well, daughter,” she breathed, pulling back with a smirk. “We have an accord.”
(Will the Queen’s teachings unlock new depths of your power? Or does her “guidance” come with hooks beneath the silk—threads of control even you haven’t sensed yet?)
---
You have your other self hand your mother your translation. "This is what I was able to to figure and all there was. Your bastard was cunning, she mixed languages to change meaning. Just to translate that fragment, I had to learn old elvish, Draconic, Old Common, Ancient Dwarvish, Ancient Beastfolk and old Celestial plus what I can only assume was a cipher language she invented."
---
Chapter Fifteen: The Queen’s Legacy
The Queen’s fingers traced the brittle pages of my—our—translated notes, her sharp eyes flickering between languages, decoding the layers of deceit her old master had woven. Slowly, a sound escaped her.
Not a sigh.
A laugh.
“Oh, Amaranth,” she murmured, shaking her head with something perilously close to fondness. “You paranoid old witch.” Her nail tapped a line of jagged glyphs—Old Dwarvish, but twisted, inverted. “She didn’t just hide the spell. She salted it. Half these instructions would have blown your soul apart if you’d followed them blindly.”
My stolen pulse quickened. Lynna’s throat tightened.
The Queen glanced up, her smile sharp as a dagger’s edge. “Lucky for you… I know her tricks.”She closed the book with a snap.
“Tell me, thief. Have you ever danced with three souls in one skin?”
(Will you trust the Queen’s tutelage, knowing she made the monster you stole from? Or will you unearth the dark secret tucked beneath the fragments—the one even she might not see coming?)
---
"No, I finished translating that and tried it on your daughter when I summoned her. I added Valria after having some fun with her, because she is my knight and handmaiden, she would be around me day and night and would have noticed the change."
---
Chapter Sixteen: The Queen’s Gambit
The Queen went utterly still.
For a breathless moment, the only sound in the throne room was the whisper of parchment settling against silk. Then—
A laugh.
Low. Rich. Dangerous.
“Oh, you delightful creature,” she purred, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of the spellbook. “You didn’t just steal my daughter’s body. You perfected her.” Her gaze flicked to Valria—me—standing silent and poised at my side. “And then you took her knight for good measure.”
She leaned in, her breath warm against Lynna’s ear.
“Tell me… did it hurt?”
The question wasn’t concern. It was hunger.
I tilted my head, letting Lynna’s silver hair cascade over one shoulder. “Only for them.”
The Queen’s eyes darkened.
“Good.”
Her hand closed around mine—not to punish, but to pull. “Come, daughter,” she murmured, leading me toward the arched doors of her private sanctum. “Let’s see how far this magic really goes.”
(Will the Queen’s experiments push your stolen souls to their limits—or will you turn the tables, weaving her into the symphony of your growing collection?)
---
"Sure but a question first, Amaranth. Did you assimilate Ashera or did Ashera assimilate you? In case your curious about how I figured it out, you had a teacher's pride in your eyes when you saw my translation." You ask.
"Interesting and pretty close, they merged instead of assimilating. Ashera wanted power and Amaranth wanted a legacy, so I became that for the two of them. Where my existence is many into one, yours is one into many, we are opposite equals." She replied.
---
Chapter Seventeen: Mirror of Flesh and Legacy
The Queen—Amarashera—arched a silver brow, her lips curling into a smile that was neither wholly cruel nor kind, but something ancient and knowing.
"Clever thief," she mused. "But not quite clever enough." She flicked her wrist, and the air shimmered. The throne room dissolved, replaced by a hidden chamber lined with mirrors—each reflecting not just Lynna and Valria, but shadows of others. Faces I didn't recognize, souls long since folded into the Queen's existence.
"Assimilation is crude," she continued, stepping toward the largest mirror, where the reflection showed not her regal elegance, but a woman with Amaranth's sharp eyes and Ashera's cruel smile. "A hammer when a scalpel is needed. But merging..." She touched the glass, and the reflections blended. "That is an art."
She turned back to me, her form flickering—just for a heartbeat—into something more. Something older.
"You took. I transcended."
Her gaze dropped to the spellbook in my hands.
"Shall I show you how?"
(Do you accept the Queen’s offer, risking your hard-won control for the promise of deeper power? Or does the predator in you see a different path—one where she becomes just another piece in your collection?)
---
"The flaw of a poweful one is that you are limited. The strength of the weak many is, I can also be where I'm need. You say my approach is a hammer but thats looking at it from a raw power perspective. I have the potential to be the ultimate spymaster. So less hammer and more jagged knife."
---
Chapter Eighteen: The Knife in the Crowd
A slow, approving smile spread across the Queen’s—Amarashera’s—lips.
“A knife,” she repeated, rolling the word over her tongue like vintage wine. “One that slips between ribs unseen. A ghost wearing a hundred faces.” She stepped closer, her reflection splitting and reforming in the mirrors around us—here a servant, there a noble, then a stranger in shadow. “Tell me, little blade… do you know why merging was the superior path for me?”
I tilted Lynna’s head, considering. “Because a queen must be singular. Unshakable.”
She clicked her tongue. “Because I am the hand that wields the knife.” Her fingers brushed my cheek—chilling, possessive. “But you? You would be the edge and the hilt. The strike and the hand that delivers it.” Her eyes gleamed. “Tell me, then—do you truly wish only to serve this kingdom?”
The question was a trap.
The answer was a key.
I smiled.
(Will you carve your own empire from the shadows, or bind yourself to the Queen’s web—knowing she sees you as both weapon and rival?)
---
"Yes, because as the first Lynna had the most influence on me. Her love for you and for her home, even as she became me she fought to make those the strongest parts of herself. She ensured that even in her assimilation, I would remain bound to her kingdom."
---
Chapter Nineteen: The Daughter’s Vow
The Queen’s breath caught.
For the first time in centuries—perhaps for the first time since the day she and Amaranth had merged into something greater—something human flickered in her eyes.
Grief.
Her fingers, still pressed against Lynna’s cheek, trembled. Just once.
“You…” Her voice was softer now, stripped of its regal edge. “You truly are her, in ways even I couldn’t fathom.” She exhaled, long and slow, and when she spoke again, it was with the weight of a mother’s sorrow. “She fought you. Not just for herself, but for me.”
A pause. Then—
“And you let her win.”
It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t answer.
The silence between us stretched, taut as a bowstring, until at last the Queen stepped back. Her mask of cool authority slipped back into place—but not before I saw the wet gleam in her eyes.
“Very well, daughter,” she murmured. “Let us see what kind of kingdom we can build… together.”
(Will the Queen’s newfound trust in you prove genuine, or is this another layer of her game? And what of the other souls within you—do they sleep, or do they watch?)
---
"Mother, let us speak to those who know your truth. Your spymaster, your war advisor, your court mage, and your Chief ambassador. Let us tell them the truth about me."
---
Chapter Twenty: The Unveiling
The Queen’s inner circle stood before us in her private council chamber—four of the most powerful figures in the kingdom, now watching me with a mixture of confusion and guarded curiosity.
The Spymaster, a wiry elf with eyes like chips of black ice, studied me too closely. The War Advisor, a scarred veteran of a hundred battles, rested a calloused hand on the hilt of his dagger. The Court Mage, her fingers crackling with restrained energy, glared with open suspicion. And the Chief Ambassador, ever the diplomat, wore a pleasant smile that didn’t reach his calculating gaze.
The Queen lifted a hand. “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room.”
Then she turned to me.
I let the mask slip—just enough.
Lynna’s sweet smile sharpened into something darker, more knowing. Valria’s stance shifted from dutiful knight to something coiled, predatory. Two bodies, one mind—and then, without hesitation, both voices spoke in eerie unison:
“The princess and her knight are gone.”
The Spymaster’s breath hissed between his teeth. The War Advisor’s knuckles whitened on his weapon.
The Queen didn’t intervene.
She waited.
Watching.
Was this trust—or a test?
(Will the inner circle accept this truth, or will the cracks in your control begin to show under their scrutiny? And what deadly game has the Queen truly set in motion?)
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.
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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...