The gym was a symphony of clanging weights, rhythmic thuds on treadmills, and the low thump of curated playlists. Through Gabbie’s eyes, Jake surveyed his new hunting ground. He wasn’t driving; he’d learned that subtlety was key. Instead, he nestled deep within her, a silent passenger connected to her senses, content to let her perform her daily routine while he watched, and judged.

Gabbie, as the assistant manager, moved through the space with a confident smile, checking in with members, adjusting equipment. Jake soaked it all in. The toned legs of a woman on the stair-climber, the determined focus of another doing deadlifts, the easy grace of a third stretching by the mirrors. Good, but not perfect. He was looking for something specific.

“Hey, Gabbie! Ready for the 4:30 flow?” A melodic voice cut through the gym noise.

Jake directed Gabbie’s gaze. The yoga instructor, Stacey Kim, was walking toward them, a mat tucked under her arm. She was… sublime. Waves of ink-black hair fell around a face with sharp, elegant cheekbones and full lips. Her workout clothes hugged a figure that was the perfect blend of his current hosts: an impossibly narrow waist flaring into hips that rivaled Ava’s best feature, and a chest that, while not as overwhelmingly generous as Gabbie’s, was perfectly proportioned and promised incredible softness. She moved with a dancer’s control, every step fluid.

“Always ready for your class, Stacey,” Gabbie said, her voice cheerful and natural. Jake urged no specific words, just a feeling of warm friendliness. “You always make it look so easy.”

Stacey laughed, a bright, clear sound. “Years of practice and still trying to convince my knees it’s a good idea.” She leaned closer, a conspiratorial glint in her dark eyes. “You should come tonight. I’m trying a new sequence for hip openers. It’s brutal in the best way.”

“I might just do that,” Gabbie said. The idea was Jake’s, a gentle nudge. “You know, Ava and I were thinking of having a few people over for dinner this weekend. Just casual. You should come. I feel like we only ever talk between reps.”

Stacey’s smile widened. “That sounds lovely. I’d love to meet Ava properly. Text me the details?”

The plan was set.

Saturday night arrived. The apartment was clean, music played softly, and the smell of garlic and herbs filled the air. Ava, under Jake’s seamless control from within, …