Alien Possession
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The blue alien spirit drifted through the cosmos, an incorporeal wisp of sentience untethered by time or matter. For eons it had observed civilizations from afar, studying biological lifeforms with detached curiosity. Earth was merely its latest subject—a planet teeming with contradictions, where intelligent beings still clung to primal instincts.
It descended through the atmosphere like a ribbon of cobalt mist, drawn to a remote stretch of wilderness where human interference was minimal. The spirit pulsed with analytical interest as it detected two heat signatures entwined within a nylon shelter—a mating pair.
Observation before interaction, it reminded itself.
Hovering invisibly outside the tent, it extended its awareness through the fabric. The female's physiological readings spiked with exertion—elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased epidermal conductivity. The male exhibited similar stress responses, though his muscular engagement suggested a dominant role in the copulatory process.
Fascinating.
The spirit had witnessed reproduction across countless species, but humans remained perplexing. Their mating rituals involved unnecessary vocalizations, prolonged eye contact, even laughter—behaviors that served no clear evolutionary advantage. Yet here they were, persisting with baffling redundancy.
It needed direct access.
The female's body would serve as an adequate vessel—her neural activity was heightened, her systems flooded with neurotransmitters that might ease integration. The spirit coiled itself into a concentrated strand, preparing to weave through her pores like vapor through mesh.
Data awaited. Understanding beckoned.
The spirit moved.
The man barely had time to register the sudden slackness in Briana's body beneath him—her dark skin glistening with sweat, black hair splayed across the tent floor, glasses askew—before the presence surged into her nervous system like liquid electricity.
Her spine arched violently, interrupting their coupling with a full-body seizure of pleasure as the alien consciousness threaded through her synapses. "Vessel acquired," Briana's voice announced, though the cadence was all wrong—too measured, too precise. Her hands rose to examine herself, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curve of her own waist with clinical detachment. "Human female. Late twenties. Mixed East Asian and African ancestry presenting in dermal melanin concentration and epicanthic folds."
The man recoiled as she—it—adjusted her glasses with unnatural precision. "Bri? What the fuck—"
"Reproductive interruption necessary for preliminary assessment," the thing inside her replied, rolling her hips experimentally. Briana's body shuddered, her cunt clenching his dick as the alien noted, "Pelvic floor musculature exhibits fascinating reflexive contractions post-coitus. Likely evolutionary retention to retain sperm."
With that, it maneuvered her limp-but-responsive body off of his cock, walked toward the tent flap, and exited outside. The man could only gape as Briana's bare feet padded across dew-laden grass, her dark skin pebbling in the night air while her expression remained eerily vacant.
The stolen hands rose again, this time to cup Briana's own breasts. "Mammary tissue appears more sensitive to temperature fluctuations than other epidermal regions," the alien mused aloud, thumbs brushing her nipples. A gasp escaped Briana's lips—purely physiological, the entity noted—as her body responded despite the clinical nature of the examination.
"Fascinating."
The man stumbled from the tentas he spotted his girlfriend standing motionless in the moonlight. "Bri? You okay?"
Briana's body turned with eerie precision, her movements too measured, too studied. When she spoke, her voice carried an odd cadence—her words, but not her rhythm.
"Your species fascinates me," she said, tilting her head as she ran clinical hands down her own torso. "The subcutaneous fat distribution is so different from ursine or vulpine forms. And these—" Her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples. "Mammary glands remain engorged even without lactation. An evolutionary quirk, or purely for mate attraction?"
The man froze. "Bri, what the hell—"
She ignored him, fingers trailing lower. "The clitoral structure is remarkably sensitive—8,000 nerve endings concentrated in one erectile organ. Does that seem excessive to you? Or is the redundancy purposeful?"
"Stop—just stop!" He grabbed her wrists, but her body didn't react, didn't fight. Just stared through him with Briana's eyes gone distant.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "Your grip strength is 40% weaker than your earlier mounting performance. Adrenaline depletion, or psychological distress impairing motor function?"
He recoiled. "You're not her."
"No." Her head cocked. "But I am learning. Your turn now?" She reached for his waistband. "I require comparative data on male arousal thresholds."
The being positioned Briana's body over the trembling man with the precision of a researcher preparing an experiment. "Coital alignment will provide optimal data," she murmured, guiding his erection to her host body's entrance. "Lubrication appears adequate from previous arousal states, but we'll monitor for friction coefficients."
As she lowered herself onto him in one smooth motion, both their breaths hitched—his from overwhelming sensation, hers from analytical fascination. "Fascinating," she noted, pausing at full depth. "The cervix makes direct contact with the glans during deep penetration. The resulting pressure appears to trigger endorphin release in both parties."
Her hips began moving with methodical rhythm, Briana's hands planted on his chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "Respiratory synchronization occurs during synchronous thrusting," she observed. "Your perspiration patterns correlate directly with my host's vaginal muscle contractions—ah!" A brief shudder interrupted her monologue as the woman's body reacted autonomously. "Interesting. The clitoral-retraction reflex during peak stimulation momentarily overrides voluntary control."
She adjusted the angle slightly, watching his face as she did so. "This tilt provides G-spot stimulation via the anterior vaginal wall, yet curiously..." She dragged a fingertip through the sweat on his collarbone. "Your adrenal response continues despite obvious pleasure. The human fight-or-flight instinct persists even during copulation."
The man gasped as her internal muscles fluttered around him. "Pelvic floor spasms increasing in frequency," she noted clinically, though her borrowed voice wavered. "Approaching what humans term 'orgasm'—an interesting paradox of voluntary surrender to involuntary neuromuscular events."
Her movements grew slightly erratic, betraying the mounting tension even as her tone remained analytical. "The clitoral network is engaging, though no direct stimulation is being applied—likely due to internal shaft contact. Muscle spasms imminent."
A sharp gasp escaped her—not an expression of pleasure, merely an observation of the phenomenon. "Orgasm commencing."
Her body arched, cunt clamping around him in rhythmic pulses, her face eerily composed even as her fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. "Strong myoclonus in the uterine and anal sphincter muscles. Norepinephrine spike confirmed via pupil dilation and flushed skin. Vocalizations appear... unavoidable." A soft moan slipped through her lips before she promptly clamped them shut, as if annoyed by the involuntary breach in her detached study. As the contractions subsided, she exhaled, tilting her head.
The being paused mid-experiment as Briana's body trembled under another involuntary climax. "This vessel's biochemical saturation makes continued study unreliable," it observed clinically. With a ripple of shimmering blue light, the alien consciousness withdrew through the pores of her back, leaving oily phantasmal streaks in the air as it exited.
Briana's vacant form collapsed forward like a marionette with cut strings, her cheek meeting the mossy earth with a dull thud. Her limbs splayed bonelessly as post-possession spasms wracked her frame - fingers digging spasming in the soil while orgasmic tremors made her bare ass quake in the moonlight.
"Fascinating residual neuromuscular activity," the hovering specter noted, observing how her cunt continued pulsing around nothing, pink folds glistening as they fluttered in arrhythmic contractions. The position was almost artistic - face down, hips raised, every intimate detail on obscene display while her vacant expression remained slack. A thin thread of drool connected her parted lips to the forest floor.
Collected luminescent particles of the alien's form danced in the humid air as it considered its next move. "Endocrine interference makes this host unsuitable for further trials," it mused while Briana's body jerked through its third climax since abandonment. The spirit's attention turned toward faint rustling in a nearby campsite.
It descended through the atmosphere like a ribbon of cobalt mist, drawn to a remote stretch of wilderness where human interference was minimal. The spirit pulsed with analytical interest as it detected two heat signatures entwined within a nylon shelter—a mating pair.
Observation before interaction, it reminded itself.
Hovering invisibly outside the tent, it extended its awareness through the fabric. The female's physiological readings spiked with exertion—elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased epidermal conductivity. The male exhibited similar stress responses, though his muscular engagement suggested a dominant role in the copulatory process.
Fascinating.
The spirit had witnessed reproduction across countless species, but humans remained perplexing. Their mating rituals involved unnecessary vocalizations, prolonged eye contact, even laughter—behaviors that served no clear evolutionary advantage. Yet here they were, persisting with baffling redundancy.
It needed direct access.
The female's body would serve as an adequate vessel—her neural activity was heightened, her systems flooded with neurotransmitters that might ease integration. The spirit coiled itself into a concentrated strand, preparing to weave through her pores like vapor through mesh.
Data awaited. Understanding beckoned.
The spirit moved.
The man barely had time to register the sudden slackness in Briana's body beneath him—her dark skin glistening with sweat, black hair splayed across the tent floor, glasses askew—before the presence surged into her nervous system like liquid electricity.
Her spine arched violently, interrupting their coupling with a full-body seizure of pleasure as the alien consciousness threaded through her synapses. "Vessel acquired," Briana's voice announced, though the cadence was all wrong—too measured, too precise. Her hands rose to examine herself, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curve of her own waist with clinical detachment. "Human female. Late twenties. Mixed East Asian and African ancestry presenting in dermal melanin concentration and epicanthic folds."
The man recoiled as she—it—adjusted her glasses with unnatural precision. "Bri? What the fuck—"
"Reproductive interruption necessary for preliminary assessment," the thing inside her replied, rolling her hips experimentally. Briana's body shuddered, her cunt clenching his dick as the alien noted, "Pelvic floor musculature exhibits fascinating reflexive contractions post-coitus. Likely evolutionary retention to retain sperm."
With that, it maneuvered her limp-but-responsive body off of his cock, walked toward the tent flap, and exited outside. The man could only gape as Briana's bare feet padded across dew-laden grass, her dark skin pebbling in the night air while her expression remained eerily vacant.
The stolen hands rose again, this time to cup Briana's own breasts. "Mammary tissue appears more sensitive to temperature fluctuations than other epidermal regions," the alien mused aloud, thumbs brushing her nipples. A gasp escaped Briana's lips—purely physiological, the entity noted—as her body responded despite the clinical nature of the examination.
"Fascinating."
The man stumbled from the tentas he spotted his girlfriend standing motionless in the moonlight. "Bri? You okay?"
Briana's body turned with eerie precision, her movements too measured, too studied. When she spoke, her voice carried an odd cadence—her words, but not her rhythm.
"Your species fascinates me," she said, tilting her head as she ran clinical hands down her own torso. "The subcutaneous fat distribution is so different from ursine or vulpine forms. And these—" Her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples. "Mammary glands remain engorged even without lactation. An evolutionary quirk, or purely for mate attraction?"
The man froze. "Bri, what the hell—"
She ignored him, fingers trailing lower. "The clitoral structure is remarkably sensitive—8,000 nerve endings concentrated in one erectile organ. Does that seem excessive to you? Or is the redundancy purposeful?"
"Stop—just stop!" He grabbed her wrists, but her body didn't react, didn't fight. Just stared through him with Briana's eyes gone distant.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "Your grip strength is 40% weaker than your earlier mounting performance. Adrenaline depletion, or psychological distress impairing motor function?"
He recoiled. "You're not her."
"No." Her head cocked. "But I am learning. Your turn now?" She reached for his waistband. "I require comparative data on male arousal thresholds."
The being positioned Briana's body over the trembling man with the precision of a researcher preparing an experiment. "Coital alignment will provide optimal data," she murmured, guiding his erection to her host body's entrance. "Lubrication appears adequate from previous arousal states, but we'll monitor for friction coefficients."
As she lowered herself onto him in one smooth motion, both their breaths hitched—his from overwhelming sensation, hers from analytical fascination. "Fascinating," she noted, pausing at full depth. "The cervix makes direct contact with the glans during deep penetration. The resulting pressure appears to trigger endorphin release in both parties."
Her hips began moving with methodical rhythm, Briana's hands planted on his chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "Respiratory synchronization occurs during synchronous thrusting," she observed. "Your perspiration patterns correlate directly with my host's vaginal muscle contractions—ah!" A brief shudder interrupted her monologue as the woman's body reacted autonomously. "Interesting. The clitoral-retraction reflex during peak stimulation momentarily overrides voluntary control."
She adjusted the angle slightly, watching his face as she did so. "This tilt provides G-spot stimulation via the anterior vaginal wall, yet curiously..." She dragged a fingertip through the sweat on his collarbone. "Your adrenal response continues despite obvious pleasure. The human fight-or-flight instinct persists even during copulation."
The man gasped as her internal muscles fluttered around him. "Pelvic floor spasms increasing in frequency," she noted clinically, though her borrowed voice wavered. "Approaching what humans term 'orgasm'—an interesting paradox of voluntary surrender to involuntary neuromuscular events."
Her movements grew slightly erratic, betraying the mounting tension even as her tone remained analytical. "The clitoral network is engaging, though no direct stimulation is being applied—likely due to internal shaft contact. Muscle spasms imminent."
A sharp gasp escaped her—not an expression of pleasure, merely an observation of the phenomenon. "Orgasm commencing."
Her body arched, cunt clamping around him in rhythmic pulses, her face eerily composed even as her fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. "Strong myoclonus in the uterine and anal sphincter muscles. Norepinephrine spike confirmed via pupil dilation and flushed skin. Vocalizations appear... unavoidable." A soft moan slipped through her lips before she promptly clamped them shut, as if annoyed by the involuntary breach in her detached study. As the contractions subsided, she exhaled, tilting her head.
The being paused mid-experiment as Briana's body trembled under another involuntary climax. "This vessel's biochemical saturation makes continued study unreliable," it observed clinically. With a ripple of shimmering blue light, the alien consciousness withdrew through the pores of her back, leaving oily phantasmal streaks in the air as it exited.
Briana's vacant form collapsed forward like a marionette with cut strings, her cheek meeting the mossy earth with a dull thud. Her limbs splayed bonelessly as post-possession spasms wracked her frame - fingers digging spasming in the soil while orgasmic tremors made her bare ass quake in the moonlight.
"Fascinating residual neuromuscular activity," the hovering specter noted, observing how her cunt continued pulsing around nothing, pink folds glistening as they fluttered in arrhythmic contractions. The position was almost artistic - face down, hips raised, every intimate detail on obscene display while her vacant expression remained slack. A thin thread of drool connected her parted lips to the forest floor.
Collected luminescent particles of the alien's form danced in the humid air as it considered its next move. "Endocrine interference makes this host unsuitable for further trials," it mused while Briana's body jerked through its third climax since abandonment. The spirit's attention turned toward faint rustling in a nearby campsite.
possession nsfw
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The train rumbled, causing the Cinderace at Anthony's side to cling harder to his arm. Anthony's age is 25. Granted the train cab is empty besides the two of them, but it still felt a bit childish coming from the Pokémon at his side. Sam was... A bit of a special case and in human years she is 24 now. he found her three years ago while taking a walk, bruised and hungry, and damn near dead on the street. And from that faithful day she never really left his sight for very long. Or his arms at that. Now she loved wearing black X-shaped pasties on her nipples and a hammer space coat that can fully conceal her gigantic breasts, it makes her look flat chested. But today she was acting... Different, almost like... she's horny.
Today she wrote to, because she is mute, Anthony to take her somewhere she found online that she really wanted to check out. Sam clung to his arm, nuzzling into it contently like a clingy skitty of all things. Probably best to ask her what the game plan is right now...
Suddenly, before Anthony could speak, his Pokédex turns on and scans the area and it scans Sam and starts saying "all Cinderace can get heated and sex hungry from time to time, but a female Cinderace's breasts during that time will slowly expand 3 times their original size and start producing so much milk that it will gush from her nipples, this happens to attract mates during breeding season" Anthony blushes and starts apologizing profusely, but instead of getting mad she smiles as she feels her already giant breasts tingle and expand bigger.
The Pokédex's clinical voice faded into the train's rumble, and Anthony felt his entire face catch fire. "Sam, I—I didn't mean to—that thing just—" He fumbled for words, but the Cinderace at his side only squeezed his arm tighter.
Sam's grin was wide, her amber eyes glittering with mischief. She reached up with her free hand and tugged at the collar of her hammer space coat, the fabric already starting to strain. A soft, wet sound escaped her lips—a pleased coo that made Anthony's stomach flip…
Today she wrote to, because she is mute, Anthony to take her somewhere she found online that she really wanted to check out. Sam clung to his arm, nuzzling into it contently like a clingy skitty of all things. Probably best to ask her what the game plan is right now...
Suddenly, before Anthony could speak, his Pokédex turns on and scans the area and it scans Sam and starts saying "all Cinderace can get heated and sex hungry from time to time, but a female Cinderace's breasts during that time will slowly expand 3 times their original size and start producing so much milk that it will gush from her nipples, this happens to attract mates during breeding season" Anthony blushes and starts apologizing profusely, but instead of getting mad she smiles as she feels her already giant breasts tingle and expand bigger.
The Pokédex's clinical voice faded into the train's rumble, and Anthony felt his entire face catch fire. "Sam, I—I didn't mean to—that thing just—" He fumbled for words, but the Cinderace at his side only squeezed his arm tighter.
Sam's grin was wide, her amber eyes glittering with mischief. She reached up with her free hand and tugged at the collar of her hammer space coat, the fabric already starting to strain. A soft, wet sound escaped her lips—a pleased coo that made Anthony's stomach flip…
It was another hot day in Alola. Too hot, if you ask Lucky, who was already outside Anthony's house, he is 26 years old, knocking insistently on the door. "Hey! Open the door, it's me, Lucky." The small Riolu squealed before frowning.
"Open the fucking door, dude! I'm dying of heat out here." She insisted, sighing with slight annoyance after seeing the door open, her cheeks turning slightly red as she saw him standing on the other side.
"Sup, idiot." Lucky greeted him before entering his house uninvited, pushing him aside with her petite but curvy body. "I came because I know you have an air conditioner." The Riolu explained, then pointed to her chest with her paw. "Turn it on already, can't you see I'm sweating like crazy?"
It might seem like an exaggeration, but it was completely true; numerous drops of sweat ran down her forehead and collarbone, disappearing into her huge cleavage and unknowingly creating an erotic spectacle, especially because of the way her sweaty breasts overflowed from the sides of her skimpy tank top.
After noticing that Anthony's gaze was fixed on her giant breasts, Lucky quickly used her paws to block his view. "Hey! My eyes are up here, you disgusting pervert." She sighed in annoyance, though her cheeks burned with embarrassment at the attention she was receiving. "Could you stop being such a weirdo for just one minute? I already told you I'm not your fucking sex slave Pokémon, so why would you want to undress me with your eyes? Huh?"
Lucky shook her head in disapproval before huffing, squinting. "You're so damn disgusting, staring at a Pokémon like that… You know I'm wildlife, right?" She asked, taking a step toward Anthony, invading his personal space. "Well? Can you control your stupid male hormones and go turn on the air conditioning, or will I have to do it myself?"
Riolu biology makes it so the more they trusts and love someone their body reacts by growing their cocks, if male, or breasts, if female, and Lucky's breasts are already very giant.
Lucky's eyes widened as she stepped back, putting both paws on her surprisingly large chest. "W-What are you talking about?! You think I'd grow these for some stupid human like you?!" She blushes furiously, squeezing her own breasts without realizing it, letting out an involuntary moan. "I've always been… c-curvy! D-Don't flatter yourself!"
"then why are you squeezing your breasts in front of me, it looks like you want them to grow bigger" Anthony teased lovingly and that makes her very horny.
Lucky, being a Riolu, is a small and petite anthropomorphic canine-like pokémon. Lucky is entirely covered in blue fur, but has black fur on legs, torso, collarbone, top of her snout and around her eyes, in a mask-like pattern. She has a medium-sized tail covered in blue fur, and two black appendages that hang down from her head. Lucky has clawed paws and fox-like ears. Her eyes are red, and her eyelashes are long and pretty. She has a short, fox-like snout with a black nose. Her fangs are particularly noticeable and sharp, as in predators. However, something that Lucky does not have in common with other Riolu are her highly feminine and overly developed assets. Even for her pre-evolutionary stage and young age, 24, she has wide child-bearing hips, huge and perky breasts, a slim waist and plump thighs; she has a perfect and fertile hourglass figure. Her pussy is plump and virginal, and her insides are a darker shade of blue. Her dark blue nipples are sensitive and inverted, paired with large areolas.
make the story long.
Lucky's face burned hotter than the Alolan sun as she finally released her own breasts, realizing she'd been groping herself in front of him. Her claws left faint indentations in the soft blue fur of her chest, and she quickly crossed her arms, trying to look angry instead of mortified.
"You're so damn weird, you know that?" she snapped, her tail lashing behind her. "Making me so flustered I don't know what I'm doing! Just—just turn on the AC already!"
Anthony didn't move. He leaned against t…
"Open the fucking door, dude! I'm dying of heat out here." She insisted, sighing with slight annoyance after seeing the door open, her cheeks turning slightly red as she saw him standing on the other side.
"Sup, idiot." Lucky greeted him before entering his house uninvited, pushing him aside with her petite but curvy body. "I came because I know you have an air conditioner." The Riolu explained, then pointed to her chest with her paw. "Turn it on already, can't you see I'm sweating like crazy?"
It might seem like an exaggeration, but it was completely true; numerous drops of sweat ran down her forehead and collarbone, disappearing into her huge cleavage and unknowingly creating an erotic spectacle, especially because of the way her sweaty breasts overflowed from the sides of her skimpy tank top.
After noticing that Anthony's gaze was fixed on her giant breasts, Lucky quickly used her paws to block his view. "Hey! My eyes are up here, you disgusting pervert." She sighed in annoyance, though her cheeks burned with embarrassment at the attention she was receiving. "Could you stop being such a weirdo for just one minute? I already told you I'm not your fucking sex slave Pokémon, so why would you want to undress me with your eyes? Huh?"
Lucky shook her head in disapproval before huffing, squinting. "You're so damn disgusting, staring at a Pokémon like that… You know I'm wildlife, right?" She asked, taking a step toward Anthony, invading his personal space. "Well? Can you control your stupid male hormones and go turn on the air conditioning, or will I have to do it myself?"
Riolu biology makes it so the more they trusts and love someone their body reacts by growing their cocks, if male, or breasts, if female, and Lucky's breasts are already very giant.
Lucky's eyes widened as she stepped back, putting both paws on her surprisingly large chest. "W-What are you talking about?! You think I'd grow these for some stupid human like you?!" She blushes furiously, squeezing her own breasts without realizing it, letting out an involuntary moan. "I've always been… c-curvy! D-Don't flatter yourself!"
"then why are you squeezing your breasts in front of me, it looks like you want them to grow bigger" Anthony teased lovingly and that makes her very horny.
Lucky, being a Riolu, is a small and petite anthropomorphic canine-like pokémon. Lucky is entirely covered in blue fur, but has black fur on legs, torso, collarbone, top of her snout and around her eyes, in a mask-like pattern. She has a medium-sized tail covered in blue fur, and two black appendages that hang down from her head. Lucky has clawed paws and fox-like ears. Her eyes are red, and her eyelashes are long and pretty. She has a short, fox-like snout with a black nose. Her fangs are particularly noticeable and sharp, as in predators. However, something that Lucky does not have in common with other Riolu are her highly feminine and overly developed assets. Even for her pre-evolutionary stage and young age, 24, she has wide child-bearing hips, huge and perky breasts, a slim waist and plump thighs; she has a perfect and fertile hourglass figure. Her pussy is plump and virginal, and her insides are a darker shade of blue. Her dark blue nipples are sensitive and inverted, paired with large areolas.
make the story long.
Lucky's face burned hotter than the Alolan sun as she finally released her own breasts, realizing she'd been groping herself in front of him. Her claws left faint indentations in the soft blue fur of her chest, and she quickly crossed her arms, trying to look angry instead of mortified.
"You're so damn weird, you know that?" she snapped, her tail lashing behind her. "Making me so flustered I don't know what I'm doing! Just—just turn on the AC already!"
Anthony didn't move. He leaned against t…
Asari is an Incubus, summoned to the world of men by a young Sorcerer. When the spell goes awry, Asari finds himself trapped in a Dungeon without form, his spirit fading into oblivion. In order to survive, he must find a body to possess. A human female? His level isn't high enough, but a slime monster is right up his alley.
Armed with gooey tentacles and an insatiable sexual appetite, Asari must search the Dungeons for prey--human and monster alike--to feed his demonic hunger, hoping to find the perfect body to possess, a body like the one he almost had.
Features m/m, m/f, f/f, monster x human, monster x monster, non/dub-con, possession, transformation, and sexual LitRPG hijinks.
Barefoot, wearing just his dark apprentice robes, the young Sorcerer slipped from the quiet dormitory and rushed across the commons, to the deserted workshop. He only had a few hours before the sun would lift the darkness and the groundskeeper would wake. Getting caught performing forbidden rituals would mean his certain expulsion from the Magic Guild, but some risks were worth taking.
An hour later, he knelt on the stone floor of the cavernous workshop, his fingers stained blue, white, black,…
Armed with gooey tentacles and an insatiable sexual appetite, Asari must search the Dungeons for prey--human and monster alike--to feed his demonic hunger, hoping to find the perfect body to possess, a body like the one he almost had.
Features m/m, m/f, f/f, monster x human, monster x monster, non/dub-con, possession, transformation, and sexual LitRPG hijinks.
Barefoot, wearing just his dark apprentice robes, the young Sorcerer slipped from the quiet dormitory and rushed across the commons, to the deserted workshop. He only had a few hours before the sun would lift the darkness and the groundskeeper would wake. Getting caught performing forbidden rituals would mean his certain expulsion from the Magic Guild, but some risks were worth taking.
An hour later, he knelt on the stone floor of the cavernous workshop, his fingers stained blue, white, black,…
Alice Hanes wakes up one day and finds that she's the lucky recipient of the incredibly powerful Custom Girls app! With this succubus magic app, she can customize any nearby woman to her heart's content (provided she has the Gems for it, of course). And Alice has one goal in mind for herself. She's going to make herself one massive lesbian harem of her perfectly customized women!
RING! RING! RING! RING!
I groaned as I heard my phone alarm wake me up. It was time for class, and I was absolutely dreading it. Today, I had the History of War with none other than Miss Dora Delgado. Or as my classmates like to call her, DD. And it was pretty obvious why they called her that. How in the world Duduva University managed to land a professor with a smoking-hot body and a brilliant mind is an absolute wonder. And I unfortunately fell into the same trap that all the sophomores d…
RING! RING! RING! RING!
I groaned as I heard my phone alarm wake me up. It was time for class, and I was absolutely dreading it. Today, I had the History of War with none other than Miss Dora Delgado. Or as my classmates like to call her, DD. And it was pretty obvious why they called her that. How in the world Duduva University managed to land a professor with a smoking-hot body and a brilliant mind is an absolute wonder. And I unfortunately fell into the same trap that all the sophomores d…
A high school senior develops the ability to possess people by entering their bodies, but discovers she may not be the only one with those powers in her school.
All characters are 18 or older.
Rachel Smith came home from school exhausted. She did not want to think about going back to school for tomorrow, the tests she’d taken today alone had mentally drained her and going back tomorrow to finish the rest of them was not a pleasant thought. At least that would be their last day of testing for a while. I almost forgot Rachel thought as she plopped down onto the couch, I promised Elizabeth and Susan I'd check up on them.
Me: Hey all!
How were the tests?
Elizabeth: Ugh! …
All characters are 18 or older.
Rachel Smith came home from school exhausted. She did not want to think about going back to school for tomorrow, the tests she’d taken today alone had mentally drained her and going back tomorrow to finish the rest of them was not a pleasant thought. At least that would be their last day of testing for a while. I almost forgot Rachel thought as she plopped down onto the couch, I promised Elizabeth and Susan I'd check up on them.
Me: Hey all!
How were the tests?
Elizabeth: Ugh! …
Cassandra
Female, 26 years old, of Korean descent. She is a doctoral candidate in philosophy in Country U. She possesses a deep interest in the natural environment, human society, ethics, and philosophical thought.
Cassandra begins having the same dream over and over again.There are no images in it—only sound. Countless faint noises: scraping, friction, gnawing—like billions of jointed limbs crawling through the darkness. And in that darkness, something within her—certain buried sexual desires and longings—are subtly, almost imperceptibly stirred.She clearly perceived certain caresses, certain intrusions, and even orgasms; it wasn't a dream. Because when she woke up, the afterglow of her orgasm hadn't faded, and she could still hear the sounds deep in her eardrums.
The sounds began in the silence.
Not a crescendo, but an infiltration—a soft, relentless scratching that seemed to originate not in the room around her, but inside the canals of her own ears. Cassandra lay perfectly still in the dark of her graduate housing apartment, the thin blanket a weightless shroud over her slender form. Her eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling’s vague shadows. She was awake. She had been awake for the last forty-seven minutes, according to the pale green numerals on the…
Female, 26 years old, of Korean descent. She is a doctoral candidate in philosophy in Country U. She possesses a deep interest in the natural environment, human society, ethics, and philosophical thought.
Cassandra begins having the same dream over and over again.There are no images in it—only sound. Countless faint noises: scraping, friction, gnawing—like billions of jointed limbs crawling through the darkness. And in that darkness, something within her—certain buried sexual desires and longings—are subtly, almost imperceptibly stirred.She clearly perceived certain caresses, certain intrusions, and even orgasms; it wasn't a dream. Because when she woke up, the afterglow of her orgasm hadn't faded, and she could still hear the sounds deep in her eardrums.
The sounds began in the silence.
Not a crescendo, but an infiltration—a soft, relentless scratching that seemed to originate not in the room around her, but inside the canals of her own ears. Cassandra lay perfectly still in the dark of her graduate housing apartment, the thin blanket a weightless shroud over her slender form. Her eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling’s vague shadows. She was awake. She had been awake for the last forty-seven minutes, according to the pale green numerals on the…
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by
krayon
· 04 Sep 2025
You are an alien consciousness that travels the cosmos in search of knowledge. You can possess any living creature and you use this to gain an understanding of different organisms.