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Will and Claire become close to their siblings in a very intimate sense
body swap possession
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Oblivious
I wake up. Or rather, we do.
The ceiling is unfamiliar for a split second, but then it clicks. The faint, geometric pattern of shadows from the blinds. The smell of old takeout and clean laundry. Tyler’s bedroom. This is his room. His consciousness, a dense, unyielding weight, fills the entire space of our shared awareness. There is no room for me, Ashley, to be anything but a shiver at the edges, a silent observer encased in the amber of his will.
He sits up. The sheets are his—dark gray, practical. They fall away, and he looks down at our body. His head, with his own familiar face—the strong jaw, the stubble, his short, brown hair—turns on a neck that connects to a landscape that is not his. From the collarbones down, it is all me. Soft, full breasts, curved hips, the gentle swell of a belly. He sees only his body. A possession, whole and complete. He swings his legs—my legs—over the side of the bed and stands.
He walks to his closet and pulls out his clothes. A pair of worn boxer briefs, which he steps into. They conform perfectly. A pair of his favorite jeans. The denim simply fits, the waistband sitting low on my hips, the fabric magically accommodating the fuller curve of my backside. A plain white crewneck sweatshirt goes on next. It settles over my chest, the soft cotton draping without pulling. He runs a hand through his own hair and gives a satisfied grunt. The sound is his, that rough, gravelly noise from his own mouth.
In the kitchen, he makes coffee. He moves with his own familiar, slightly slouched confidence. To any outside eye, he is just Tyler. A guy in his sweatshirt and jeans, maybe looking a little softer than usual, but nothing to remark upon. The magic of the court’s ruling does its work seamlessly; people see Tyler, and their minds simply accept the form as his.
At the gym, he heads for the free weights. He sets up for deadlifts. His form is aggressive, practiced. The sweatshirt rides up slightly as he bends, exposing a sliver of my lower back.
"Tyler! Sup, man?"
It’s Mike. He claps Tyler on the shoulder, his gaze friendly and utterly normal. He doesn’t stare at the hips in the jeans or the chest under the sweatshirt. He sees his buddy Tyler, working out.
"Mike. Just getting after it," Tyler says, his voice that low, steady rumble.
"Looking strong," Mike says, and he means it. He doesn’t see a woman’s body. He sees Tyler lifting weight. He wanders off after a bit more chat, completely at ease.
Later, in the men’s locker room shower, Tyler strips off his sweatshirt and jeans, hanging them up. He showers in just the boxer briefs, as is his habit. The hot water soaks the thin cotton, making it cling. Men are around him, showering, talking about their weekends. No one stares. No one nudges anyone. One guy even says, "Pass the soap, Ty?" as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to see Tyler’s familiar face above the wet, clinging fabric outlining full breasts and rounded hips. He is just a guy in the shower. Tyler soaps up, washes his short hair, rinses off. He is utterly at home.
He towels off and gets dressed. His phone buzzes. A text from Emma.
Still on for tonight?
He texts back, Yeah. My place? Confirmation comes quickly.
That evening, his apartment is tidy, music playing low. He’s changed into a tight, black Henley and another pair of his perfect jeans. The Henley stretches over my breasts, the buttons at the placket pulling slightly. His face, so familiar and male, is relaxed, handsome.
When Emma arrives, she smiles warmly. "Hey, you." She steps in, giving him a quick hug. Her eyes sweep over him with clear appreciation, but it’s the appreciation of a woman looking at a man she’s attracted to. She sees Tyler. Charming, solid Tyler. The body, the clothes—they’re just part of him. There’s no confusion in her gaze, only interest.
"Hey, Em," he says, and kisses her cheek. Her perfume is sweet, familiar.
They talk easily. He is his direct, confident self. She is flirtatious, touching his arm, laughing at his jokes. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at him. She sees the man she’s had a thing for, for months. There is no puzzle to solve, no contradiction to untangle. The magic holds perfectly.
He kisses her, there in his living room. It’s a deep, confident kiss. Her hands slide up his chest, under the Henley, her palms finding the heavy, soft weight of my breasts. She moans into his mouth, her thumbs circling my nipples.
"Tyler," she breathes, the name full of desire.
He leads her to his bedroom. His bed. He pulls the Henley up and over his head. My breasts fall free, full and heavy. Emma’s gaze is hot, adoring. She pushes him back onto the bed and leans down, her mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard. Her other hand kneads the other breast. He groans, a low, masculine sound of pleasure.
His hands go to his jeans, undoing them, pushing them and the boxer briefs down. He is completely exposed now, his face flushed with arousal above the naked female body.
Emma shifts lower, settling between my legs, her intent clear. She is going to go down on him. On Tyler. Her Tyler.
She looks down, her breath warm on my skin. And then she freezes.
Her eyes, which had been hazy with lust, sharpen. They focus. They see. Not just a body, but the specific details. The thatch of dark curls. The glistening folds. The complete, undeniable absence of any male anatomy. This is not a man’s body. This is…
Ashley’s.
The realization hits her like a physical blow, a silent thunderclap in the quiet room. Her best friend Ashley’s body. The curve of the hips she’s seen in jeans, the birthmark just inside the thigh she’s noticed at the pool. This is Ashley, laid bare beneath Tyler’s head, under Tyler’s command.
A violent, electric thrill shoots through Emma, so intense it steals her breath. Her secret, private attraction—not just to Tyler, but to Ashley too, that simmering, unacknowledged thing she’s pushed down for years—ignites into a roaring flame. Tyler has Ashley. And he has no idea. And he’s offering this to her.
She looks up at his face. His eyes are closed, his head back, waiting for her touch. He is completely oblivious. He thinks she sees him, just him.
A fierce, possessive glee tightens her chest. This is her secret. Hers alone.
She doesn’t pull away. She leans in, her heart hammering. Her mission changes. It’s no longer just about pleasing Tyler. It’s about claiming this, about exploring this impossible, stolen intimacy.
Her tongue finds my opening. It’s slick and ready. And then she pushes.
Not a lick. An entry. A deliberate, broad, stretching penetration. Her tongue spears into me, and the stretch is immediate and profound. My tight inner walls yield, parting around the relentless, wet pressure of her muscle. She feels Ashley’s body open for her, and the knowledge that it is Ashley’s makes the sensation a thousand times more potent. She holds the pressure, stretching the soft passage wide around the width of her tongue, feeling the intimate, hot clasp of her friend around her.
She pulls back and plunges in again, deeper. A raw, guttural sound tears from Tyler’s throat. "Fuck, Emma."
She works her tongue in and out, each penetration a slow, deliberate stretch, fucking Ashley open with her mouth. The wet, sucking sounds are loud. Emma is lost in a dual worship: of Tyler’s blissful ignorance above, and of Ashley’s helpless, stretched body below. The burning fullness she’s creating is her secret triumph.
She pulls back, her lips slick. "I need more of you," she pants, the truth of the statement echoing in her skull. More of Ashley. More of this.
She adds a finger, pressing the tip alongside her tongue at the stretched, slick entrance. The dual pressure is immense. She pushes them in together—the firm, probing digit and the relentless, muscular tongue.
The stretch is catastrophic, sublime. Ashley’s body arches off the bed. Emma scissors her finger slowly inside, stretching the tender, yielding flesh of her best friend even wider, while her tongue curls and presses against it from within. The burning, perfect dilation is a conquest. Tyler is chanting, "Yes, yes, give it to me," his voice a broken, masculine litany.
And Emma is silent, her secret knowledge a fire in her blood. She is stretching Ashley open in Tyler’s bed, under Tyler’s command, witnessed by Tyler’s face. Every deep, penetrating thrust of her tongue and finger is a claim staked on the tight, hot passage of the woman she’s secretly desired, a communion with the soul she knows is trapped within, soothed only by the oblivious, proud calm of the man she loves, who wears his own head on borrowed flesh, and who offers up every soft, stretched, conquered inch of what he has made, never knowing the double gift he has given her. She will never tell. This secret, this perfect, twisted intimacy, is hers forever.
I wake up. Or rather, we do.
The ceiling is unfamiliar for a split second, but then it clicks. The faint, geometric pattern of shadows from the blinds. The smell of old takeout and clean laundry. Tyler’s bedroom. This is his room. His consciousness, a dense, unyielding weight, fills the entire space of our shared awareness. There is no room for me, Ashley, to be anything but a shiver at the edges, a silent observer encased in the amber of his will.
He sits up. The sheets are his—dark gray, practical. They fall away, and he looks down at our body. His head, with his own familiar face—the strong jaw, the stubble, his short, brown hair—turns on a neck that connects to a landscape that is not his. From the collarbones down, it is all me. Soft, full breasts, curved hips, the gentle swell of a belly. He sees only his body. A possession, whole and complete. He swings his legs—my legs—over the side of the bed and stands.
He walks to his closet and pulls out his clothes. A pair of worn boxer briefs, which he steps into. They conform perfectly. A pair of his favorite jeans. The denim simply fits, the waistband sitting low on my hips, the fabric magically accommodating the fuller curve of my backside. A plain white crewneck sweatshirt goes on next. It settles over my chest, the soft cotton draping without pulling. He runs a hand through his own hair and gives a satisfied grunt. The sound is his, that rough, gravelly noise from his own mouth.
In the kitchen, he makes coffee. He moves with his own familiar, slightly slouched confidence. To any outside eye, he is just Tyler. A guy in his sweatshirt and jeans, maybe looking a little softer than usual, but nothing to remark upon. The magic of the court’s ruling does its work seamlessly; people see Tyler, and their minds simply accept the form as his.
At the gym, he heads for the free weights. He sets up for deadlifts. His form is aggressive, practiced. The sweatshirt rides up slightly as he bends, exposing a sliver of my lower back.
"Tyler! Sup, man?"
It’s Mike. He claps Tyler on the shoulder, his gaze friendly and utterly normal. He doesn’t stare at the hips in the jeans or the chest under the sweatshirt. He sees his buddy Tyler, working out.
"Mike. Just getting after it," Tyler says, his voice that low, steady rumble.
"Looking strong," Mike says, and he means it. He doesn’t see a woman’s body. He sees Tyler lifting weight. He wanders off after a bit more chat, completely at ease.
Later, in the men’s locker room shower, Tyler strips off his sweatshirt and jeans, hanging them up. He showers in just the boxer briefs, as is his habit. The hot water soaks the thin cotton, making it cling. Men are around him, showering, talking about their weekends. No one stares. No one nudges anyone. One guy even says, "Pass the soap, Ty?" as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to see Tyler’s familiar face above the wet, clinging fabric outlining full breasts and rounded hips. He is just a guy in the shower. Tyler soaps up, washes his short hair, rinses off. He is utterly at home.
He towels off and gets dressed. His phone buzzes. A text from Emma.
Still on for tonight?
He texts back, Yeah. My place? Confirmation comes quickly.
That evening, his apartment is tidy, music playing low. He’s changed into a tight, black Henley and another pair of his perfect jeans. The Henley stretches over my breasts, the buttons at the placket pulling slightly. His face, so familiar and male, is relaxed, handsome.
When Emma arrives, she smiles warmly. "Hey, you." She steps in, giving him a quick hug. Her eyes sweep over him with clear appreciation, but it’s the appreciation of a woman looking at a man she’s attracted to. She sees Tyler. Charming, solid Tyler. The body, the clothes—they’re just part of him. There’s no confusion in her gaze, only interest.
"Hey, Em," he says, and kisses her cheek. Her perfume is sweet, familiar.
They talk easily. He is his direct, confident self. She is flirtatious, touching his arm, laughing at his jokes. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at him. She sees the man she’s had a thing for, for months. There is no puzzle to solve, no contradiction to untangle. The magic holds perfectly.
He kisses her, there in his living room. It’s a deep, confident kiss. Her hands slide up his chest, under the Henley, her palms finding the heavy, soft weight of my breasts. She moans into his mouth, her thumbs circling my nipples.
"Tyler," she breathes, the name full of desire.
He leads her to his bedroom. His bed. He pulls the Henley up and over his head. My breasts fall free, full and heavy. Emma’s gaze is hot, adoring. She pushes him back onto the bed and leans down, her mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard. Her other hand kneads the other breast. He groans, a low, masculine sound of pleasure.
His hands go to his jeans, undoing them, pushing them and the boxer briefs down. He is completely exposed now, his face flushed with arousal above the naked female body.
Emma shifts lower, settling between my legs, her intent clear. She is going to go down on him. On Tyler. Her Tyler.
She looks down, her breath warm on my skin. And then she freezes.
Her eyes, which had been hazy with lust, sharpen. They focus. They see. Not just a body, but the specific details. The thatch of dark curls. The glistening folds. The complete, undeniable absence of any male anatomy. This is not a man’s body. This is…
Ashley’s.
The realization hits her like a physical blow, a silent thunderclap in the quiet room. Her best friend Ashley’s body. The curve of the hips she’s seen in jeans, the birthmark just inside the thigh she’s noticed at the pool. This is Ashley, laid bare beneath Tyler’s head, under Tyler’s command.
A violent, electric thrill shoots through Emma, so intense it steals her breath. Her secret, private attraction—not just to Tyler, but to Ashley too, that simmering, unacknowledged thing she’s pushed down for years—ignites into a roaring flame. Tyler has Ashley. And he has no idea. And he’s offering this to her.
She looks up at his face. His eyes are closed, his head back, waiting for her touch. He is completely oblivious. He thinks she sees him, just him.
A fierce, possessive glee tightens her chest. This is her secret. Hers alone.
She doesn’t pull away. She leans in, her heart hammering. Her mission changes. It’s no longer just about pleasing Tyler. It’s about claiming this, about exploring this impossible, stolen intimacy.
Her tongue finds my opening. It’s slick and ready. And then she pushes.
Not a lick. An entry. A deliberate, broad, stretching penetration. Her tongue spears into me, and the stretch is immediate and profound. My tight inner walls yield, parting around the relentless, wet pressure of her muscle. She feels Ashley’s body open for her, and the knowledge that it is Ashley’s makes the sensation a thousand times more potent. She holds the pressure, stretching the soft passage wide around the width of her tongue, feeling the intimate, hot clasp of her friend around her.
She pulls back and plunges in again, deeper. A raw, guttural sound tears from Tyler’s throat. "Fuck, Emma."
She works her tongue in and out, each penetration a slow, deliberate stretch, fucking Ashley open with her mouth. The wet, sucking sounds are loud. Emma is lost in a dual worship: of Tyler’s blissful ignorance above, and of Ashley’s helpless, stretched body below. The burning fullness she’s creating is her secret triumph.
She pulls back, her lips slick. "I need more of you," she pants, the truth of the statement echoing in her skull. More of Ashley. More of this.
She adds a finger, pressing the tip alongside her tongue at the stretched, slick entrance. The dual pressure is immense. She pushes them in together—the firm, probing digit and the relentless, muscular tongue.
The stretch is catastrophic, sublime. Ashley’s body arches off the bed. Emma scissors her finger slowly inside, stretching the tender, yielding flesh of her best friend even wider, while her tongue curls and presses against it from within. The burning, perfect dilation is a conquest. Tyler is chanting, "Yes, yes, give it to me," his voice a broken, masculine litany.
And Emma is silent, her secret knowledge a fire in her blood. She is stretching Ashley open in Tyler’s bed, under Tyler’s command, witnessed by Tyler’s face. Every deep, penetrating thrust of her tongue and finger is a claim staked on the tight, hot passage of the woman she’s secretly desired, a communion with the soul she knows is trapped within, soothed only by the oblivious, proud calm of the man she loves, who wears his own head on borrowed flesh, and who offers up every soft, stretched, conquered inch of what he has made, never knowing the double gift he has given her. She will never tell. This secret, this perfect, twisted intimacy, is hers forever.
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Vega's BEAUTIFUL face is destroyed by Chun Li so he replaces it.
A reimagining of 'Palette Swap' by Team Lady Valiant & FarhadTG
The final kick landed with a sickening crack. My heel connected squarely with Vega's porcelain mask, shattering it—and the bone beneath—with a sound like splintering china. He went down hard, clutching his ruined face, blood seeping between his perfect fingers. For a moment, there was only his ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.
Then he started to laugh.
"Beautiful... so beautiful..." he gurgled through the wreckage of his jaw, his once-perfect features now a jigsaw puzzle of gore and ceramic shards. His free hand fumbled at his belt, producing a small device I recognized from Bison's labs. "But beauty... can be transferred."
"No—!" I lunged forward, but too late. He pressed the trigger.
The world exploded in white light and static. I felt myself falling, spinning, my consciousness ripping away from my body like silk tearing. When I could see again, I was looking up at the ceiling from the floor, my perspective completely wrong. Vega's hands—my hands now—rose into view. Long-fingered and pale. I touched my face and felt bandages, surgical tape, the swollen flesh beneath.
Across from me, Vega—now wearing my body—stood staring down at itself with wide, hungry eyes. He immediately grabbed the neckline of my qipao top and tore it open, exposing the breasts I'd known my whole life as if seeing them for the first time. "Exquisite," he breathed in my voice, a sound so wrong it made my stomach turn. He cupped them, his fingers—my fingers once—squeezing the weight of them with obscene fascination.
"Three days later."
The words felt surreal to even think. Three days of surgery, of recovery, of Vega preening and parading in my skin while I lay in his bed, trapped in his broken body. I shifted against silk sheets that smelled of roses and blood, trying to find a position that didn't send agony lancing through Vega's four fractured ribs—my fractured ribs now.
The bedroom door opened. Vega entered—not the Vega I'd fought, but the Vega who now wore my face and form. He'd styled my hair into his signature braid, the dark ropes hanging over one shoulder. My breasts—his breasts now—were completely exposed, moving with a bounce and weight I intimately understood but had never witnessed from this angle. His nipples, my nipples once, were hard on my former breasts and already healed into them was a matching version of Vega's serpent tattoo, coiling around his left breast.
He wore the ceremonial trousers of a matador in murrey and yellow, so tight they might have been painted on. Every curve of what had been my hips, my ass, my thighs—his now—was outlined in devastating detail. The white leggings hugged his calves, the red sash cinched his waist, and the loafers clicked softly on the marble floor. There was no shirt, no vest, no modesty whatsoever.
"How are we feeling today, my beautiful monster?" he purred in my voice, running his hands down his bare torso, fingers tracing the new tattoo. "I've been breaking in your body. The flexibility is... inspiring."
I pushed myself up on Vega's arms—my arms now—so much stronger than my own had been, but currently useless thanks to the ribs. I wore the masculine version of my Street Fighter Alpha outfit: an embroidered vest that strained across his broad shoulders, a navy unitard that did nothing to hide the evidence of my new anatomy, athletic shoes, and studded wristbands. My face was still wrapped in bandages, Napoleon's guise hiding the damage I'd inflicted.
"You're a psychopath," I rasped, his voice grating in my throat.
"I'm an artist," he corrected, striking a pose that made his—my breasts once—lift and press together. "And I've finally achieved my masterpiece. The face I was always meant to have, the body I've coveted for years. But..." He frowned, touching his bandaged visage on my body. "I still need to fix this. Your brutality marred perfection."
Despite everything, despite the pain and violation, I felt a strange heat pooling in my new groin as I watched him touch what had been my face. My old body was undeniably beautiful, even under his control. And his body... I flexed Vega's powerful thighs—my thighs now—felt the weight of different muscles, the tightness of the unitard against an erection I hadn't asked for.
His eyes—my eyes once—caught the movement. "Ah, I see my husband is adjusting. Good." He began to pace, each step deliberate, making my former hips sway. "I've been thinking, my love. About our arrangement. You gave me this gift, this perfect vessel. And I realized something." He stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on what had been my hips. "I'm in love. With you. With the fighter who broke me, who made this possible."
My breath caught. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." He smiled with my lips, then reached down and began to touch himself through the impossibly tight matador trousers. "But watch how your former body responds to the truth." One hand squeezed his breast—the weight of it filling his palm perfectly—while the other rubbed slow circles between his legs. "I've been touching myself constantly, wife. Learning every secret you kept hidden. Did you know you could get this wet?"
He turned, presenting the profile of my former body, and I watched in horrified fascination as his fingers worked faster. The trousers were so tight I could see the outline of his hand, the way the fabric pulled and strained. He was getting wet—I could smell it, that familiar scent from a foreign source, and the dark patch spreading across the murrey fabric.
"Vega, stop—" I protested, but my new voice was weak.
"Why? This is as much yours as mine now." He approached the bed, leaning over my new crotch, my former breasts—his breasts now—swaying. "Let me show you what I've learned as your wife."
His hands moved to my unitard, and before I could protest, he tore the reinforced fabric between my legs with shocking ease. Vega's cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I gasped at the sensation—so different, so urgent.
"Beautiful," he whispered, taking it in my former hands. "Just like the rest of your husband."
Then he leaned forward and pressed my erection between his breasts—the breasts I'd once soaped in the shower, the breasts that had fit into specific sports bras, the breasts that were now his to wield as mother to my fatherhood. The sensation was overwhelming. He squeezed them together, creating a channel of soft, yielding flesh, and began to move.
"Watch," he commanded in my voice, looking down at me with my own dark eyes—his eyes now. "Watch what you made of your wife."
He worked faster, the gold rings in his nipples glinting, his braid swinging with each motion. The pleasure built in this unfamiliar body, coiling tighter and tighter. When he lowered his mouth to the tip and took me—Vega—between my own lips—his lips now—I couldn't hold back.
The orgasm ripped through me, a different kind of explosion than any kick or punch. He swallowed, his throat working in a way I'd never felt, then released me with a satisfied smile. Vega's cock—my cock now—still twitched, half-hard and sensitive.
"There," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of my former hand. "Now we understand each other, husband."
I was panting, each breath sending pain through Vega's ribs—my ribs now. "More," I managed, hips still twitching with aftershocks. "I want..."
"Shhh." He leaned close, my former breasts—his breasts now—pressing against the vest covering his old chest. "Your body is still healing. I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery on your face, you know. These ribs need time." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot against skin that was his but now mine: "We have all the time in the world, my love. When you're whole again, your wife will take you so much further."
He kissed the bandages covering Vega's ruined features—my ruined features now—then rose from the bed, adjusting his trousers with a satisfied smile. My body left the room with his swagger, the door clicking shut behind him.
I collapsed back against the pillows, remembering as Vega removed his breasts from my half-hard penis, the wetness left behind cooling in the air. My mind reeled with the obscene intimacy of what we'd just done. Three days in, and I was already lost, already thinking of this monster in my skin as "my wife." How many more until I didn't want to find my way back?
A reimagining of 'Palette Swap' by Team Lady Valiant & FarhadTG
The final kick landed with a sickening crack. My heel connected squarely with Vega's porcelain mask, shattering it—and the bone beneath—with a sound like splintering china. He went down hard, clutching his ruined face, blood seeping between his perfect fingers. For a moment, there was only his ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.
Then he started to laugh.
"Beautiful... so beautiful..." he gurgled through the wreckage of his jaw, his once-perfect features now a jigsaw puzzle of gore and ceramic shards. His free hand fumbled at his belt, producing a small device I recognized from Bison's labs. "But beauty... can be transferred."
"No—!" I lunged forward, but too late. He pressed the trigger.
The world exploded in white light and static. I felt myself falling, spinning, my consciousness ripping away from my body like silk tearing. When I could see again, I was looking up at the ceiling from the floor, my perspective completely wrong. Vega's hands—my hands now—rose into view. Long-fingered and pale. I touched my face and felt bandages, surgical tape, the swollen flesh beneath.
Across from me, Vega—now wearing my body—stood staring down at itself with wide, hungry eyes. He immediately grabbed the neckline of my qipao top and tore it open, exposing the breasts I'd known my whole life as if seeing them for the first time. "Exquisite," he breathed in my voice, a sound so wrong it made my stomach turn. He cupped them, his fingers—my fingers once—squeezing the weight of them with obscene fascination.
"Three days later."
The words felt surreal to even think. Three days of surgery, of recovery, of Vega preening and parading in my skin while I lay in his bed, trapped in his broken body. I shifted against silk sheets that smelled of roses and blood, trying to find a position that didn't send agony lancing through Vega's four fractured ribs—my fractured ribs now.
The bedroom door opened. Vega entered—not the Vega I'd fought, but the Vega who now wore my face and form. He'd styled my hair into his signature braid, the dark ropes hanging over one shoulder. My breasts—his breasts now—were completely exposed, moving with a bounce and weight I intimately understood but had never witnessed from this angle. His nipples, my nipples once, were hard on my former breasts and already healed into them was a matching version of Vega's serpent tattoo, coiling around his left breast.
He wore the ceremonial trousers of a matador in murrey and yellow, so tight they might have been painted on. Every curve of what had been my hips, my ass, my thighs—his now—was outlined in devastating detail. The white leggings hugged his calves, the red sash cinched his waist, and the loafers clicked softly on the marble floor. There was no shirt, no vest, no modesty whatsoever.
"How are we feeling today, my beautiful monster?" he purred in my voice, running his hands down his bare torso, fingers tracing the new tattoo. "I've been breaking in your body. The flexibility is... inspiring."
I pushed myself up on Vega's arms—my arms now—so much stronger than my own had been, but currently useless thanks to the ribs. I wore the masculine version of my Street Fighter Alpha outfit: an embroidered vest that strained across his broad shoulders, a navy unitard that did nothing to hide the evidence of my new anatomy, athletic shoes, and studded wristbands. My face was still wrapped in bandages, Napoleon's guise hiding the damage I'd inflicted.
"You're a psychopath," I rasped, his voice grating in my throat.
"I'm an artist," he corrected, striking a pose that made his—my breasts once—lift and press together. "And I've finally achieved my masterpiece. The face I was always meant to have, the body I've coveted for years. But..." He frowned, touching his bandaged visage on my body. "I still need to fix this. Your brutality marred perfection."
Despite everything, despite the pain and violation, I felt a strange heat pooling in my new groin as I watched him touch what had been my face. My old body was undeniably beautiful, even under his control. And his body... I flexed Vega's powerful thighs—my thighs now—felt the weight of different muscles, the tightness of the unitard against an erection I hadn't asked for.
His eyes—my eyes once—caught the movement. "Ah, I see my husband is adjusting. Good." He began to pace, each step deliberate, making my former hips sway. "I've been thinking, my love. About our arrangement. You gave me this gift, this perfect vessel. And I realized something." He stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on what had been my hips. "I'm in love. With you. With the fighter who broke me, who made this possible."
My breath caught. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." He smiled with my lips, then reached down and began to touch himself through the impossibly tight matador trousers. "But watch how your former body responds to the truth." One hand squeezed his breast—the weight of it filling his palm perfectly—while the other rubbed slow circles between his legs. "I've been touching myself constantly, wife. Learning every secret you kept hidden. Did you know you could get this wet?"
He turned, presenting the profile of my former body, and I watched in horrified fascination as his fingers worked faster. The trousers were so tight I could see the outline of his hand, the way the fabric pulled and strained. He was getting wet—I could smell it, that familiar scent from a foreign source, and the dark patch spreading across the murrey fabric.
"Vega, stop—" I protested, but my new voice was weak.
"Why? This is as much yours as mine now." He approached the bed, leaning over my new crotch, my former breasts—his breasts now—swaying. "Let me show you what I've learned as your wife."
His hands moved to my unitard, and before I could protest, he tore the reinforced fabric between my legs with shocking ease. Vega's cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I gasped at the sensation—so different, so urgent.
"Beautiful," he whispered, taking it in my former hands. "Just like the rest of your husband."
Then he leaned forward and pressed my erection between his breasts—the breasts I'd once soaped in the shower, the breasts that had fit into specific sports bras, the breasts that were now his to wield as mother to my fatherhood. The sensation was overwhelming. He squeezed them together, creating a channel of soft, yielding flesh, and began to move.
"Watch," he commanded in my voice, looking down at me with my own dark eyes—his eyes now. "Watch what you made of your wife."
He worked faster, the gold rings in his nipples glinting, his braid swinging with each motion. The pleasure built in this unfamiliar body, coiling tighter and tighter. When he lowered his mouth to the tip and took me—Vega—between my own lips—his lips now—I couldn't hold back.
The orgasm ripped through me, a different kind of explosion than any kick or punch. He swallowed, his throat working in a way I'd never felt, then released me with a satisfied smile. Vega's cock—my cock now—still twitched, half-hard and sensitive.
"There," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of my former hand. "Now we understand each other, husband."
I was panting, each breath sending pain through Vega's ribs—my ribs now. "More," I managed, hips still twitching with aftershocks. "I want..."
"Shhh." He leaned close, my former breasts—his breasts now—pressing against the vest covering his old chest. "Your body is still healing. I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery on your face, you know. These ribs need time." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot against skin that was his but now mine: "We have all the time in the world, my love. When you're whole again, your wife will take you so much further."
He kissed the bandages covering Vega's ruined features—my ruined features now—then rose from the bed, adjusting his trousers with a satisfied smile. My body left the room with his swagger, the door clicking shut behind him.
I collapsed back against the pillows, remembering as Vega removed his breasts from my half-hard penis, the wetness left behind cooling in the air. My mind reeled with the obscene intimacy of what we'd just done. Three days in, and I was already lost, already thinking of this monster in my skin as "my wife." How many more until I didn't want to find my way back?
body swap
+2 more
3
4.0K
0
0
A witch is invited to a college party and offers a special game of Beer Pong. It is a very special version of hooking up.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
possession
+7 more
6
8.5K
1
1
A man has intimate encounters with a Genie
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
magic
+2 more
1
542
0
1
Stacey and her team are chosen to fight an alien invasion
It all started during what should’ve been just another grueling practice session under the sweltering Texas sun. Sweat stung my eyes, and my muscles screamed in protest with every high kick and flip. I was Stacey Robinson, head cheerleader of the Northwood Wildcats, and we were running the pyramid sequence for what felt like the hundredth time.
That’s when the sky tore open.
Not with a crack of thunder, but with a soft, shimmering hum. A light, gentle as a sunbeam, descended, and out stepped a figure that looked less like an alien invader and more like a yoga instructor from a high-end spa. He was tall, slender, with skin that shimmered like mother-of-pearl and eyes the color of a calm sea. He introduced himself as Nagai, an emissary from a distant star.
“Stacey Robinson,” he said, his voice like a melody. “Your world is in grave, albeit peculiar, danger.”
We all just stared, too shocked to even drop our pom-poms.
He explained that an ancient cosmic ruler, a being of immense vanity and twisted ideals, was approaching Earth. Her name was Queen Adiposa, and her goal was to impose her own standard of beauty upon the universe: to make fat not just acceptable, but the only form of beauty, eradicating all others. Her method? A wave of transformative energy, preceded by an army of minions who looked… well, like unnaturally enthusiastic Planet Fitness trainers in their purple and yellow uniforms, forever chanting about “no judgement.”
“Your spirit, your power, your unity,” Nagai said, his gaze sweeping over my team—Chloe, Hannah, Zoe, Maya, and Brianna. “You six are the only ones who can stop her. You will become my champions. The Supersonic Pussy Rangers.”
We glanced at each other. The name was ridiculous. The situation was insane. But the look in Nagai’s eyes was dead serious.
A wave of his hand, and a flash of light enveloped us. I felt a surge of power, a buzzing energy that settled deep in my core. When the light faded, we were all clad in skintight suits. Mine was a vibrant, commanding red. Chloe got pink, Hannah yellow, Zoe a deep purple, and Maya a cool aqua. And then there was Brianna.
Brianna, already the bustiest of us by a mile, was… naked. But not just naked. Her suit was a shimmering, barely-there layer of light that did nothing to conceal her incredible figure. Nagai hadn’t been kidding about the name. Her breasts were so magnificently large, so breathtakingly full, they truly looked like they could swallow a person’s head whole.
“Your power will manifest when you face your enemy,” Nagai said, just as the ground shook.
Our first monster arrived. It was a hulking beast made of what looked like lumpy, pink flesh, with a single massive eye and a microphone headset. It was flanked by a dozen of those smiling, clapping Planet Fitness minions. “Let’s get this party started! No lunkheads, just gains!” one of them chirped.
We fought. It was chaos. We moved with a speed and strength we never knew we had, our colored suits leaving streaks of light in the air. We kicked and punched, our movements synchronized from years of practice, now amplified into something superhuman. We finally took the monster down with a combined energy blast.
But it wasn’t over. The fallen monster began to glow, its body reassembling and swelling, growing taller and taller until it loomed over the school, a five-story tall abomination of jiggling fat and distorted fitness enthusiasm.
“Now, Stacey!” Nagai’s voice echoed in my mind. “It is time!”
A belt of gleaming silver and red, engraved with strange symbols, appeared in his hands. He tossed it to me. I caught it, and without thinking, I slapped it around my waist. A click, a hum, and then… silence.
The world froze. The monster was a statue mid-roar. The minions were frozen in their mindless clapping. My team hovered in the air around me, their eyes glazed over, caught in Nagai’s powerful stasis.
I was lifted into the air. Chloe (Pink) and Zoe (Purple) floated toward me in a dreamlike daze. My legs, guided by an unseen force, slipped into their open mouths. I felt no resistance, only a warm, incredible pressure as my feet slid down, down, coming to rest deep within their stomachs. It was the strangest, most intimate sensation I’d ever felt.
Next, Hannah (Yellow) and Maya (Aqua) drifted over. My arms entered them, sinking into their bodies through their backsides up to just below my elbows. Their legs unwound themselves and wrapped tightly around my torso, locking into place. I could feel the muscles in their thighs tense against my sides.
Finally, Brianna—Naked—floated toward my chest. She pressed against me, her incredible softness moulding to my form. She wrapped her arms and legs around my own, locking us together, and then let her head fall forward, completely vanishing between the immense, soft pillows of her own breasts, pressed firmly against my chest.
I dropped back to the ground, the impact jolting through me. I could feel Brianna’s body on my front, her breasts bouncing with the landing. I tentatively tried to move.
I thought, step forward.
The movement came, but it wasn’t just my leg. It was Chloe’s and then Zoe’s legs moving in perfect unison with me, their bodies moving as extensions of my own. I was controlling them. I was them. I lifted my arms, and saw Hannah and Maya’s arms mirror the movement perfectly.
“This is your Megazord form,” Nagai’s voice explained, sound returning to my private bubble of time. “You are the core. You command their bodies as your own limbs. They will remember none of this. To release them, you must defeat the enemy. When it is weakened, you must yell ‘FINISHER!’.”
I practiced. A step became a mighty stomp from four powerful legs. A punch became a devastating blow from four clenched fists. The power was dizzying. I felt the distinct sensations from each of my teammates—the sleek strength of Chloe, the flexible power of Zoe, the explosive energy of Hannah, the steady grace of Maya, and the overwhelming, soft warmth of Brianna pressed against me.
“Now, Stacey,” Nagai said. “Finish it.”
Time slammed back into motion with a roar.
The giant monster swung a fist the size of a car at me. I—we—blocked it with a forearm, the impact resonating through our combined bodies. We fought, a giantess of flesh and power against a monster of fat. We were faster, stronger, unified. With a series of powerful blows, we weakened it, until it staggered, dizzy and disoriented.
Now.
I took a deep breath, the motion causing Brianna’s chest to rise and fall against mine.
“FINISHER!” I yelled, my voice echoing with the combined power of six girls.
We leaped, a phenomenal jump that carried our combined form high into the air. We twisted, aiming ourselves downward. The monster looked up, its single eye wide with confusion.
We came down on its head, not on its body.
We landed perfectly, with the soft, warm heart of our formation—Brianna—coming to rest directly over the monster’s head. It let out a muffled, gurgled roar, its head completely smothered, suffocated between the immense, world-encompassing softness of her vagina. It struggled for a moment, then fell still, beginning to dissolve into harmless pink mist.
The belt on my waist clicked. The world dissolved in another flash of light, and I was standing alone, back in my red ranger suit. My team stood around me, blinking, stretching.
“Whoa, did we do it?” Chloe asked, looking at the fading pink mist. “I blacked out for a second there. What a rush!”
They remembered nothing. But I remembered everything. The feeling of their bodies as my own. The incredible, intimate power.
And I knew, with a thrilling certainty that shot right through me, that this was only the beginning. Queen Adiposa would send more monsters. And each time, we would combine. Each time, I would feel that connection, that control.
And each time, I would make my teammates more… mine.
It all started during what should’ve been just another grueling practice session under the sweltering Texas sun. Sweat stung my eyes, and my muscles screamed in protest with every high kick and flip. I was Stacey Robinson, head cheerleader of the Northwood Wildcats, and we were running the pyramid sequence for what felt like the hundredth time.
That’s when the sky tore open.
Not with a crack of thunder, but with a soft, shimmering hum. A light, gentle as a sunbeam, descended, and out stepped a figure that looked less like an alien invader and more like a yoga instructor from a high-end spa. He was tall, slender, with skin that shimmered like mother-of-pearl and eyes the color of a calm sea. He introduced himself as Nagai, an emissary from a distant star.
“Stacey Robinson,” he said, his voice like a melody. “Your world is in grave, albeit peculiar, danger.”
We all just stared, too shocked to even drop our pom-poms.
He explained that an ancient cosmic ruler, a being of immense vanity and twisted ideals, was approaching Earth. Her name was Queen Adiposa, and her goal was to impose her own standard of beauty upon the universe: to make fat not just acceptable, but the only form of beauty, eradicating all others. Her method? A wave of transformative energy, preceded by an army of minions who looked… well, like unnaturally enthusiastic Planet Fitness trainers in their purple and yellow uniforms, forever chanting about “no judgement.”
“Your spirit, your power, your unity,” Nagai said, his gaze sweeping over my team—Chloe, Hannah, Zoe, Maya, and Brianna. “You six are the only ones who can stop her. You will become my champions. The Supersonic Pussy Rangers.”
We glanced at each other. The name was ridiculous. The situation was insane. But the look in Nagai’s eyes was dead serious.
A wave of his hand, and a flash of light enveloped us. I felt a surge of power, a buzzing energy that settled deep in my core. When the light faded, we were all clad in skintight suits. Mine was a vibrant, commanding red. Chloe got pink, Hannah yellow, Zoe a deep purple, and Maya a cool aqua. And then there was Brianna.
Brianna, already the bustiest of us by a mile, was… naked. But not just naked. Her suit was a shimmering, barely-there layer of light that did nothing to conceal her incredible figure. Nagai hadn’t been kidding about the name. Her breasts were so magnificently large, so breathtakingly full, they truly looked like they could swallow a person’s head whole.
“Your power will manifest when you face your enemy,” Nagai said, just as the ground shook.
Our first monster arrived. It was a hulking beast made of what looked like lumpy, pink flesh, with a single massive eye and a microphone headset. It was flanked by a dozen of those smiling, clapping Planet Fitness minions. “Let’s get this party started! No lunkheads, just gains!” one of them chirped.
We fought. It was chaos. We moved with a speed and strength we never knew we had, our colored suits leaving streaks of light in the air. We kicked and punched, our movements synchronized from years of practice, now amplified into something superhuman. We finally took the monster down with a combined energy blast.
But it wasn’t over. The fallen monster began to glow, its body reassembling and swelling, growing taller and taller until it loomed over the school, a five-story tall abomination of jiggling fat and distorted fitness enthusiasm.
“Now, Stacey!” Nagai’s voice echoed in my mind. “It is time!”
A belt of gleaming silver and red, engraved with strange symbols, appeared in his hands. He tossed it to me. I caught it, and without thinking, I slapped it around my waist. A click, a hum, and then… silence.
The world froze. The monster was a statue mid-roar. The minions were frozen in their mindless clapping. My team hovered in the air around me, their eyes glazed over, caught in Nagai’s powerful stasis.
I was lifted into the air. Chloe (Pink) and Zoe (Purple) floated toward me in a dreamlike daze. My legs, guided by an unseen force, slipped into their open mouths. I felt no resistance, only a warm, incredible pressure as my feet slid down, down, coming to rest deep within their stomachs. It was the strangest, most intimate sensation I’d ever felt.
Next, Hannah (Yellow) and Maya (Aqua) drifted over. My arms entered them, sinking into their bodies through their backsides up to just below my elbows. Their legs unwound themselves and wrapped tightly around my torso, locking into place. I could feel the muscles in their thighs tense against my sides.
Finally, Brianna—Naked—floated toward my chest. She pressed against me, her incredible softness moulding to my form. She wrapped her arms and legs around my own, locking us together, and then let her head fall forward, completely vanishing between the immense, soft pillows of her own breasts, pressed firmly against my chest.
I dropped back to the ground, the impact jolting through me. I could feel Brianna’s body on my front, her breasts bouncing with the landing. I tentatively tried to move.
I thought, step forward.
The movement came, but it wasn’t just my leg. It was Chloe’s and then Zoe’s legs moving in perfect unison with me, their bodies moving as extensions of my own. I was controlling them. I was them. I lifted my arms, and saw Hannah and Maya’s arms mirror the movement perfectly.
“This is your Megazord form,” Nagai’s voice explained, sound returning to my private bubble of time. “You are the core. You command their bodies as your own limbs. They will remember none of this. To release them, you must defeat the enemy. When it is weakened, you must yell ‘FINISHER!’.”
I practiced. A step became a mighty stomp from four powerful legs. A punch became a devastating blow from four clenched fists. The power was dizzying. I felt the distinct sensations from each of my teammates—the sleek strength of Chloe, the flexible power of Zoe, the explosive energy of Hannah, the steady grace of Maya, and the overwhelming, soft warmth of Brianna pressed against me.
“Now, Stacey,” Nagai said. “Finish it.”
Time slammed back into motion with a roar.
The giant monster swung a fist the size of a car at me. I—we—blocked it with a forearm, the impact resonating through our combined bodies. We fought, a giantess of flesh and power against a monster of fat. We were faster, stronger, unified. With a series of powerful blows, we weakened it, until it staggered, dizzy and disoriented.
Now.
I took a deep breath, the motion causing Brianna’s chest to rise and fall against mine.
“FINISHER!” I yelled, my voice echoing with the combined power of six girls.
We leaped, a phenomenal jump that carried our combined form high into the air. We twisted, aiming ourselves downward. The monster looked up, its single eye wide with confusion.
We came down on its head, not on its body.
We landed perfectly, with the soft, warm heart of our formation—Brianna—coming to rest directly over the monster’s head. It let out a muffled, gurgled roar, its head completely smothered, suffocated between the immense, world-encompassing softness of her vagina. It struggled for a moment, then fell still, beginning to dissolve into harmless pink mist.
The belt on my waist clicked. The world dissolved in another flash of light, and I was standing alone, back in my red ranger suit. My team stood around me, blinking, stretching.
“Whoa, did we do it?” Chloe asked, looking at the fading pink mist. “I blacked out for a second there. What a rush!”
They remembered nothing. But I remembered everything. The feeling of their bodies as my own. The incredible, intimate power.
And I knew, with a thrilling certainty that shot right through me, that this was only the beginning. Queen Adiposa would send more monsters. And each time, we would combine. Each time, I would feel that connection, that control.
And each time, I would make my teammates more… mine.
mind control
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The story of how Trevor gained his powers.
Naomi tried her hardest not to let out a sigh of exasperation as Trevor continued on his little diatribe about some superheroes Naomi could not care less about. A few more weeks of this, Noami thought, glancing at the clock and getting frustrated at how slowly time seemed to be moving, can’t believe I agreed to this bet, I need to find something Olivia could do for me that’ll make all this worth it.
Trevor was still talking, not having noticed Naomi had checked out of the conversation. Physically, he was alright looking, average height, average weight, his face had some acne scars, but was otherwise fine, he didn’t smell which was great. No, that wasn’t the issue with him, the real issue was how he wouldn’t shut up and how he seemed to leer at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. Of course, it didn’t help that the thing he wouldn’t shut up about is how much he likes looking at women’s bodies.
At least he managed to keep his hands to himself, most of the time anyway, unfortunately, now wasn’t one of those times. As he was talking, he started scootching closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Naomi wanted to push him away, tell him to keep his hands to himself, but decided against it. She didn’t want him to break up with her before the month was over, now that would be one of the most embarrassing things that would have ever happened to her. That would also render the dare moot and Olivia would have won. As if a dweeb like him would have the backbone to break up with me, Naomi thought, smiling slightly, if he gets sad, a little bit of skin should do the trick and make him happy again.
Trevor noticed her smile and grinned, “Ah, so you think Supergirl is good too! Nice! You know, I think you’d make a great Supergirl!”
Naomi blinked, realizing he must think she was reacting to him, “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Well for one, you already look a bit like her,” he started counting, using his fingers, “you’re strong, determined, don’t take any crap from anyone, and you’re beautiful!”
Is he actually- Naomi smiled despite herself, she had no idea what he was talking about, but she was able to figure out that he was being earnest and, from what she could gather, Trevor does really enjoy Supergirl and if he thought she was like her, then who was she to deny such a compliment?
“Oh!” Trevor began, looking at the clock, “Sorry, I realize I’ve been talking for about half an hour now,” he blushed and scratched the back of his head, “Heh, sorry, sorry. How was your day?”
Naomi smiled, “I’ve been alright. Olivia and Wren and I have been talking a bit. Olivia’s been laughing lately, something about Victoria nearly embarrassing herself during the last cheer practice. I don’t know.”
Trevor nodded, “Is your mom and sister alright? I noticed they both seem a little down lately.”
Naomi sighed, “Oh, right. I haven’t told you about this because I didn’t want to ruin the mood,” that was a big lie, she hadn’t told him because she hardly cared herself, “my Great Uncle Ian passed away a few weeks ago and mom and Summerlyn have been going to his house and moving things in storage,” Naomi shrugged, “they asked dad and some of my other cousins to help bring some stuff here as well. I think everything’s in the basement.”
“Oh, I’m… really sorry, what happened to him?”
Naomi waved a hand, “He was old, and had some health problems before, something about a bad heart.”
“How’s your family taking it?”
I guess we’re talking about this now, Naomi thought, better than hearing him blather on about superheroes I don’t care about, much better than hearing him talk about other girls. “Mom’s taking it the hardest, she’s been almost inconsolable lately. Uncle Ian helped raise her since she was younger and she was there with him when he died.”
Trevor was silent for a moment before asking, “How are you taking it?”
Naomi shrugged, “Barely knew the guy, he had some cool stuff in his house though, wanna come see?”
“Oh, is that alright?”
“Should be,” Naomi replied, “just be careful not to break anything.”
Naomi helped him off her bed and together the two of them left her room and went to the basement. Her parents weren’t here right now, her dad was still at work, and her mom was probably at some cousin’s house making arrangements for Uncle Ian’s funeral. That only left herself and Summerlyn, who was probably in her room studying or something. Still, she’d rather not Summerlyn find out she was down here and tell her mom, who’d know when she’d hear the end of it, so she pressed a finger to her lips at Trevor before opening the door to her basement.
The basement wasn’t much, it was a bit larger than the downstairs living room and normally was used just to store the washer and dryer. Now, however, there were several pieces of furniture belonging to Uncle Ian stored down here, along with several boxes containing more of Uncle Ian’s stuff.
None of this stuff was particularly interesting to Naomi, there was a grandfather clock, thankfully it was broken, along with a vanity desk, a clothes drawer, and a rocking chair. The vanity desk held her interest for a moment, until Naomi realized it was too big for her room and was a bit too antique for her tastes. She glanced over at Trevor who took all of this in with a look of wonder on his face. I’m glad someone’s enjoying this, hopefully this will stop you from going on and on about superheroes.
“Aw, the clock doesn’t work?” Trevor asked.
Naomi shook her head, “According to mom, it stopped working a while ago and Uncle Ian never got around to trying to get it repaired.”
Trevor ran a hand against the carved wood of the clock, “Is this handmade? This is beautiful!”
His attention was quickly taken by some of the boxes of Uncle Ian’s belongings. He glanced at Naomi for permission and then started digging through his stuff. A bunch of it were old journals and some unpublished manuscripts. Mom had said Uncle Ian was a writer, but sadly his words will never be read by anyone.
Trevor was flipping through some of Uncle Ian’s journals, “Oh, your uncle used to travel? Says here, he’s been to France, Hungary, Japan, Mexico…”
Naomi held up a hand, “Yes, he used to travel a bit when he was younger, according to mom, he’d sometimes bring her and her brothers some souvenirs from the places he’s been to.”
“Hello!” Trevor said, picking up a rolled up piece of paper at the bottom of the box, “What are you?”
“Probably a photo or old letter,” Naomi guessed.
Trevor made a face as he unrolled the paper. He flipped it around, expression still puzzled.
“What’s up?” Naomi asked.
Trevor flipped the page towards her and she was met with a series of ineligible scribbles. Huh, I guess it’s probably a letter from someone he met when he was traveling around the world. Naomi thought, Looks old. “What language even is that?”
Trevor shrugged, squinting at the symbols written on the paper, “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly.”
Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Summerlyn came down the stairs. Of course, she’d show up and ruin the fun.
Summerlyn was Naomi’s older sister, and she looked like it too. She was taller than Naomi, her body lean and toned, not that you’d be able to tell since she wore clothes that did not show any skin, and her golden blonde hair was longer. The only notable difference between the two of them is that Summerlyn had gray eyes while Naomi had blue.
“What the hell are you two doing down here?” Summerlyn asked, pointing at Naomi, “Mom said she doesn’t want any guests down here!” she glanced at the books placed on the floor, “I’d clean that up if I was you, if mom knew you were digging through Uncle Ian’s stuff, she’d flip!”
Naomi rolled her eyes and stepped over to her sister, “What? Are you going to tell mom?”
“I will if you don’t clean this up,” Summerlyn replied.
“Oh my gosh, why are you so worked up about this, anyway?” Naomi asked, “You barely knew Uncle Ian.”
“I barely knew him?” Summerlyn asked, taking a step back, “Oh, right, you don’t pay attention to anything that's not on that phone of yours, huh? No, I knew Uncle Ian! More than you! He helped me apply for colleges and helped pay for my classes!”
Naomi held up her hands, “Oh wow, sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know every detail about your life, alright? Uncle Ian helped you and now you’re sad like mom, alright.”
Trevor nervously approached her from behind, “Hey, Naomi,” he began, “maybe we should just cle-”
“Are you taking her side?” Naomi asked, “Of course you would, of course!”
“What?” Trevor asked, “No, I’m not. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Boy, take it from me, you’re better off without her,” Summerlyn began.
Naomi glared at her. Don’t you fucking dare!
Trevor glanced at her, confused.
“Naomi doesn’t love you,” Summerlyn began, “she probably only asked you out as a dare or something. Trust me, you’re not her type and you will not be the one who changes her either. Trust me, just leave, and find someone else, someone who’d love you and-” she glanced at the shirt Trevor was wearing, “someone who wouldn’t mind talking about superheroes.”
Well, I guess Olivia won the bet, Naomi thought, thanks alot, sis.
Trevor, however, surprised her. He was trembling, the letter - or whatever it was - crumbled in his hand. At first Naomi was worried he was going to explode on them and took a step back, but no, the poor bastard stepped towards Summerlyn, his face red. “You stay quiet!” he shouted, surprising both Naomi and Summerlyn, “Don’t tell me who loves me and who doesn’t! I know Naomi and I are meant to be! And no one is going to tell me otherwise, alright!”
“Calm down!” Summerlyn shouted, raising her hands, “Calm down! Alright! You’re in love, I get-”
“No!” Trevor continued, “no, you don’t get it! For the first time in my life, I was asked out! If that’s not a sign, then I don’t know what is!”
Naomi gasped, noticing the paper in Trevor’s hand started to change, started to glow. At first, it was white, but soon burned red hot. Once she saw it, Summerlyn did too, and was freaking out, telling Trevor to drop it.
Unfortunately, Trevor didn’t notice, “Drop what? The fact that things are finally looking my way? Why wou-”
It all happened so fast. The paper burned bright, nearly blinding Naomi. There was a scream, although who was screaming, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly, the light vanished and the basement returned to normal. Except, there were only two people standing here now, Naomi herself, and Summerlyn who was looking down at herself as if she’d never seen her body before.
Naomi stepped forward, “Trevor?” she asked, her voice quivering. She didn’t see him, and couldn't find any trace of him anywhere. She looked around frantically, “Trevor!” she called again. What happened? Sure, he was a loser and she was going to dump his ass as soon as the month was over, but that didn’t mean she wanted him vaporized or whatever happened.
“Trevor!” Naomi screamed, tears stinging her eyes.
“I’m here,” Summerlyn breathed, hands over her breasts.
“Summerlyn, stop fucking around!” Naomi screeched, “Help me find where Trevor went!”
“Naomi, I’m here!” Summerlyn insisted, gesturing to herself, “I’m Trevor!”
Naomi blinked, “T-Trevor?” she asked.
Summerlyn nodded, “Yeah, yeah, it’s me! Uh…” Summerlyn, or Trevor, thought for a moment, “just earlier, I was telling you that I thought you’d make the perfect supergirl! Because you’re beautiful and blonde and-”
Naomi held up a hand, This… this can’t be happening! This isn’t real! she ran her hands through her hair, taking a breath in order to calm down. She looked around, finding no sign of that paper Trevor was holding earlier.
She did notice something else though, slumped over by the dusty furniture, was Trevor’s body. It landed a short distance away from Naomi and Summerlyn. Is Summerlyn in there? Naomi walked over to Trevor’s body and prodded it, wondering if, somehow, Summerlyn had ended up in Trevor’s body like how Trevor ended up in Summerlyn’s. No response.
Naomi checked and found that Trevor’s body was, thankfully, still breathing and still had a pulse, but it looked like no one was home. Naomi sighed, looking over at Summerlyn to see Trevor was fondling his new breasts through Summerlyn’s tank top. Of course that’s what you’re doing.
Naomi cleared her throat to get Trevor’s attention. To his credit, he did seem embarrassed when he saw Naomi notice him exploring her older sister’s body. “Help me get your body upstairs,” she said, ignoring where Trevor still had his hands, “quick, I don’t want my mom coming in and seeing us in here like this!”
That snapped Trevor out of his trance and he helped Naomi carry his body up stairs. Trevor’s body was a little on the heavier side, and Naomi wasn’t the biggest fan of his smell. It could be worse, but it also could have been better. Thankfully, while neither Naomi or Summerlyn were the strongest, they were able to carry Trevor’s body back up the stairs and into Naomi’s room where they propped up his body on the bed.
Naomi sighed, rubbing her arms, “How are you doing?” she asked.
Trevor gulped, “I’m not sure, honestly,” he replied, “it’s… it’s strange seeing myself from the outside like this.”
“Do you know where Summerlyn is?” Naomi asked, “She’s not in your body.”
“If I had to guess, she might still be in this body, but I’m currently in control or something.” Trevor flexed Summerlyn’s hands, watching the movement raptly, his gaze slowly moved from her hands to other parts of her body.
Naomi wasn’t sure why, but seeing him looking at her sister’s body like that was making her angry. Out of the people, why was it Summerlyn? Of course, the thought of Trevor in her body made her shiver, something Trevor thankfully didn’t notice as he was too busy looking down at Summerlyn’s body to notice what Naomi was doing grinning widely as he looked down Summerlyn’s shirt.
“Can you get out of her body?” Naomi snapped, coming out less of a question and more of a demand.
That snapped Trevor out of his daydreams and he, once again, looked abashedly at Naomi, he scratched the back of Summerlyn’s head, a sheepish smile on her face, “Uhh… I’m not sure.”
“Well,” Naomi paused for a moment, I am not letting you stay in my sisters body any longer than you already have, “can you figure something out? Like… try to imagine leaving her body and… I don’t know, do it?”
Trevor sighed, “Alright… I’ll…I’ll try.”
Trevor was silent for a moment, closing his eyes and looking deep in concentration. A minute passed, and then another. Naomi was beginning to feel frustrated, wondering if Trevor was even trying. He’s probably not, she thought sourly, crossing her arms, he probably just wants me to think he is so he can stay as Summerlyn a bit longer. She had just finished the thought when Summerlyn suddenly slumped over.
Naomi cried out, rushing towards Summerlyn to avoid her crashing to the floor just as Trevor’s body gasped. “It worked!” Trevor cried out.
“Glad to hear!” Naomi growled, making sure her sister didn’t hurt herself too much from the fall.
“Do you think she knows what happened?” Trevor asked, approaching the two of them.
“I don’t know,” Naomi replied truthfully. Although for your own sake, you’d better hope she doesn’t remember.
Summerlyn started to come to, blinking and waving Naomi and Trevor away, “Huh? What happened?”
“You nearly fainted earlier in the basement-!” Trevor said quickly, “Afterwards Naomi and I dragged you up here to see if you were alright. We were about to call someone when you started coming to.”
Summerlyn frowned, and shook her head, “Argh, alright, well,” she groaned as she stood up, placing her hands on her hips, “I don’t want either of you going into the basement anymore, alright? Neither of you have seen how mom’s been lately and I don’t think you two messing around down there will help her, alright?”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Alright, sis, whatever you say.”
Trevor nodded, “Alright.”
Summerlyn nodded, “Good, now… I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Summerlyn rubbed her head as she left Naomi’s room. Well it looks like she doesn’t remember what happened when Trevor was inside her, Naomi thought, probably for the best, I doubt she’d take that better than I would.
Her hands turned to fists by her side, speaking of which, she turned to Trevor, “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed what you were doing in my sister's body!” she hissed.
Trevor sucked in a breath and stepped back, holding his hands out in front of him, “Woah! Heh, heh, easy Naomi,” he gave a nervous chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, “look, I’m sorry about that, alright? I’ve never been a girl before, I’ve never had or touched boobs, I… just… didn’t think right.”
Naomi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, rather it was Summerlyn than me. she suppressed a shiver, would the thought of returning to his own body even occur to him without me pushing it onto him?
“Naomi,” Trevor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she had to stop herself from jerking out of his grasp, “I’m sorry. Really, I am. Can we, please put this all behind us?”
Naomi stared into his eyes. Where in the world would Uncle Ian get one of these things? Whatever, hopefully, now that the scroll - or whatever it was - is gone, she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. “Sure, let’s put this all behind us.”
Trevor grinned and hugged her. Naomi, reluctantly, returned his hug. Trevor was the one who broke it off, noticing the clock on her wall, “Oh, is it eight already? I need to get going,” he turned to her, “see you at school?”
Naomi nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see you at school.”
Naomi helped Trevor gather his belongings and saw him to the door as he started to walk back home. She sighed, curious about whether or not there were other scrolls down there in the basement. She considered going down there herself and checking, but decided against it, she’d already promised Summerlyn and if she found her down there again, well, she’d never hear the end of it.
Maybe mom knows what Uncle Ian was up to? Naomi thought. I should probably check on Summerlyn. Her sister left the door to her room open a crack and, peering through, Naomi saw Summerlyn was buried in a book, taking down notes for one of her classes. Of course she was.
Naomi considered texting Wren and Olivia what she and Trevor found in the basement, going as far as beginning to type it out, before deciding not to and deleting the message. She barely believed what happened and she was there to witness it herself, how would those two believe what she said?
Instead, she decided to open a blank journal and started writing things down. She had to, just to process what was happening, to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind. She had just finished writing when her mom, who’d gotten home some time earlier, called her and Summerlyn down to eat.
“Hey mom," Naomi began between bites.
“Hmm?” her mom grunted.
“What was it exactly that Great Uncle Ian did?”
Her mom made a face, “Why do you ask?”
“Trevor was wondering what he did?” Naomi lied.
Her mom sighed, “He liked to travel a lot. He told me how he backpacked across Europe and even the United States a few times and what he’s seen on those travels,” she chuckled to herself, “he’d brought back several souvenirs and wrote multiple blogs about the places he’d been and what he’d found. You know, when I was younger, he’d always insist he came across real magic out there in the world, hidden in places almost forgotten and yet, he managed to find them and bring them back with him.”
I guess he did find some magic afterall, Naomi thought, thanking her mom for dinner and heading back upstairs. She’d need to track down her uncle’s blogs, see if maybe there was an explanation for whatever happened in the basement. But, maybe that was something she’ll do for another time, since it was getting late and she was getting tired.
As Naomi got her things ready and left down the hall to take a shower, she noticed the door to Summerlyn’s room was closed. Odd, since she always left it a little open in case someone called for her. As Naomi passed by, she thought she heard the sound of Summerlyn’s phone camera going off. She shook her head, whatever, what Summerlyn was up to was none of her business.
Oh well. Naomi thought, crawling into bed. I just hope whatever happened to Trevor was just temporary. She shivered, the thought of him being able to just take over people's bodies like that. She had an idea of what he'd use them for and hoped that whatever happened was just a one time thing.
---
The next morning, Naomi woke up and got ready to go to school. She stopped by to check up on Summerlyn before she left, she couldn't explain why, but she was just worried more than usual.
Summerlyn was still asleep when Naomi walked in. She considered maybe trying to wake her up, but decided against it, no doubt she'd get an earful from Summerlyn about how disrespectful that is or something like that.
Guess I'll just check up on you again later. Naomi thought, going downstairs.
---
Olivia was already waiting for her when she walked through the doors into Milton High. Strangely, Wren was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was sick?
“Where's Wren?” Naomi asked.
Olivia rolled her eyes, “She said she had to run to the restroom, something about breakfast not agreeing with her or something.” Olivia shook her head, “Whatever. How're you and Trevor doing, by the way? How are you two holding up?”
Naomi resisted the urge to stick out her tongue in disgust, “He still thinks we're actually dating,” Olivia interrupted her to make a gagging sound, Naomi couldn't say she disagreed, “you should listen to him talk, so disgusting. It's worse than when he talks non stop about those annoying superheroes or whatever it is he cares about.”
“Oh?” Olivia began, getting closer, “What does he say? The disgusting stuff, I don't care about anything else.”
Naomi smiled, and looked around to make sure Trevor wasn't nearby to overhear her, “He keeps talking about girls and what he would do if he got to the point where they had sex.”
Olivia gasped.
Naomi continued, smiling as she recounted her horrible first “date” with him, “You know, he asked me what kind of woman I was and what I expected him to do in our relationship? Well, since I didn't want to get dumped by him I had to play into it and said I would do the housework and cook while he gets to be treated as a king all day. He ate that up hook, line, and sinker. Then he asked about sex! Just like that! No other conversation! Just sex! Sex! Sex!” Naomi sighed, "What's worse is that afterwards, he just keeps rambling on and on about anime and superheroes."
Olivia was barely able to stand from laughing so much, “Oh my! Naomi I almost feel sorry for you for making you do this!”
“You will be sorry when I win this bet and you have to do something for me.” Naomi replied.
“Hey girls!” Wren greeted, walking over to them, “What are you all talking about?”
“Oh you're not going to believe this,” Olivia began, still laughing, “Naomi's been telling us all about what she and Trevor have been doing lately!”
“Ooh!” Wren exclaimed, “What do you think about Trevor?”
Olivia laughed, “The dude's a creep! He's even more of a loser than I thought he was! Sex this! Sex that!”
Wren frowned, “Oh? Is that what you think of him?”
Olivia shrugged, “As much as I know about him, anyway. You know, Trevor looks alright, a bit short maybe, but that personality just really kills it!”
Wren made a face and stepped closer, “You think all that before even getting to know him?”
Olivia held up her hands in mock surrender and chuckled, “Woah, relax Wren, I'm just having some fun! Trevor's a little weirdo! That's all there is to him really, he just thinks about women he likes and that's it. Not even in a good way either.”
Wren scoffed, “is that so?”
Olivia sighed in exasperation, “Oh my god, Wren! I don't know why you're so mad about this! I'm going to see if the cafeterias are still serving breakfast, if you want to calm down and talk to me you can find me there, alright?”
With that, Olivia left. Naomi stared after her, mouth dry. She turned over to Wren who watched Olivia with anger and sadness in her eyes. Except Naomi wasn’t sure that was Wren behind those eyes.
Wren turned to her, noticing Naomi staring, “What?” She asked.
There's no way… “Trevor?” Naomi began hesitantly, “Is… is that you?”
Wren grinned, “Yup!” Trevor admitted, fist pumping the air, “it's me!” he chuckled, “I still have the powers that scroll gave me, it's insane! Hey, I used them on Ms. Shaw earlier and used them to steal the answers for today's quiz!”
Naomi felt her skin crawl. Olivia said Wren went to the bathroom earlier, was that when Trevor possessed her? Or did that happen earlier? She shivered, thinking about what he might have done when he was alone.
Naomi crossed her arms beneath her breasts, “Trevor,” she began, “Please get our of my friend.”
Trevor blinked and then chuckled, “Oh, yeah! I… really should get back to my body before school starts, huh? Come with me, I left my body in the boys bathroom.”
Naomi sighed and followed Trevor. She was barely paying attention as he excitedly told her some of the questions and answers to the quiz. She focused more on what he might have done and what he will probably do.
“Is something wrong?” Trevor asked as they stopped in front of the boys bathroom.
“Hmm?” Naomi asked, “Oh, nothing! It's fine, I was just… wondering about your powers.”
Trevor chuckled, “I've been wondering about them too and I've been trying to test out the limits, but I think I'll save that for another day. Do me a favor and catch Wren, will you? I don't want to hurt her sweet body.”
Before Naomi could answer, Wren suddenly slumped forward and Naomi leapt to catch Wren before she fell to the floor. She held her up as Wren slowly regained consciousness, “Ugh… what? Naomi? Where am I?”
“Wren?” Naomi asked, “You've… passed out earlier with Olivia. I was taking you to the nurse when you started waking up!” Trevor, I am going to kill you!
Wren grumbled, shaking her head. Please believe me. She blinked, looking around, “What time is it?” she winced, “I think I'll go see the nurse myself, thanks for carrying me all this way.” She waved away Naomi and walked off, heading in the direction of the nurse’s office.
With that, Trevor came out of the bathroom, smiling. “She didn't remember anything! Heh heh! Can you believe that?”
“Yeah…” Naomi began, “that's really something.” She hoped her expression didn’t let slip the amount of disgust she was feeling.
“Hey Naomi,” Trevor began, sobering up, “I… need to ask you an important question.”
Naomi managed to keep a neutral expression as she turned to look at him, “What's that?” She asked, suddenly worried.
“Earlier, when Olivia was talking shit about me… how come you kept silent?”
Naomi froze. How much did he overhear? Did he know Naomi was the one who told Olivia about all those things? Or did he think Olivia was the one who said all that herself? What will he do if he finds out the truth? Naomi could feel herself starting to sweat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anything to say, either in denial, or in deflection.
Trevor sighed, looking heartbroken, taking her hesitation as something else entirely “It's… whatever. I'll see you after school, alright?”
“Alright.” Naomi replied, her heart pounding as she watched him go. That… that was close.
---
The rest of the day Naomi had trouble focusing on anything her teachers were saying, whatever, she could probably just ask one of her other classmates for notes. She was too busy thinking about what was happening with Trevor. What the hell was her great uncle getting up to? Did Uncle Ian have anything else like that hidden among his belongings? Could she find something to possibly reverse this?
The power to just take over someone’s body was freaky enough as is, but the thought of Trevor of all people having it just made her skin crawl. On their first day, Trevor told her all the things he loves about a woman, with one of the top things being her body, and how he can’t stop himself from looking no matter how hard he tries.
Jeez, the boy had no tack and was just overall unpleasant to be around. A shame, too, Naomi thought, I bet he honestly thought he was complimenting me by going on and on about how beautiful I am. Naomi suppressed a smirk, the truth was that she was flattered at first, but his constant pointing out of her looks lost their charm very quickly.
“Naomi Walker!”
Naomi came crashing down back into reality, “Huh?”
Her teacher, Mr. Gray, sighed, rubbing his temples, “I was asking if you knew how to solve this equation…”
Naomi felt her face grow warm as she glanced at the whiteboard and had no idea what on earth she was looking at, “No,” she admitted, “I do not.” That earned a round of snickers from her other classmates.
Mr. Gray shook his head, “Rachel Smith, you’re up.”
Great. Naomi thought, letting her mind wander again. Now Trevor’s making things difficult in other ways as well.
---
Lunch couldn’t come quick enough. Naomi gathered her things and headed off quickly, wanting nothing more to regroup with Wren and Olivia. She thought about telling them about the situation, but decided against it. There’s no way they’ll believe me, Naomi thought, I can still just barely believe this is happening and I was there to see it happen twice! I need to find out more about Uncle Ian, if nothing else, he’ll be the one with any answers
At least she could, hopefully, relax around them for a bit. Maybe Olivia would have some gossip to help her take her mind off things for a while. After grabbing her lunch, Naomi noticed Olivia sitting at a different spot than usual even though their table was empty. Naomi swallowed, He wouldn't. her nervousness gave way to anger the closer she got, her shoes hitting the ground harder and harder with each step. He. Fucking. Wouldn't.
“Olivia” turned to her as she approached. She had an uncharacteristic big grin on her face and her hands were… Fucking Trevor! her hands were groping her own breasts.
“HI Naomi!” Trevor greeted from inside Olivia's body, “You won't be-”
“Get out.” Naomi ordered.
Trevor smiled, taking his hands off Olivia's breasts, “Woah! Woah!” He began, “No need to get so angry with me, alright? I just don't think Olivia's that good of a friend for you! I mean, what kind of friend badmouths their other friends' boyfriends? I mean, you heard the things she was saying about me.”
“Get. Out.” Naomi repeated.
“That's not all,” Trevor continued, ignoring Naomi, “I checked her phone earlier, did you know she has some dirt on you and Wren as well? I couldn't believe it myself and I was the one who found it-”
“Trevor.” Naomi growled, finally getting him to shut up and listen, “Get. Out. Of. Her. Body. Now!”
Trevor blinked, and looked away, “Alright,” he said, his voice low, “but… can you promise me something?”
“What?” Naomi snapped.
Trevor looked back at her, “Can you defend me next time?” he paused before continuing, “I'm not asking for much, at least I don't think I am. But when she was talking shit about me, you just stood there and let her keep talking.”
Naomi blinked, this fucking guy… She knew he had a point. Even she could see that, but given his actions so far, it seemed Olivia had a point. But right now wasn't a good time to confront him about any of this.
She nodded, “Alright,” she conceded, “I'll tell Olivia to stop picking on you.”
Trevor smiled and then Olivia started shaking, her eyes rolling back before she gasped and nearly fell on the table. Trevor was gone, most likely returning to his own body, wherever that was.
“Ugh,” Olivia moaned, rubbing her head, “How the hell did I get here?”
“What's wrong?” Naomi asked.
“Naomi?” Olivia asked, noticing her, “Last thing I remember was being in fifth period when everything just went…” Olivia's eyes widened and her face went red. Her hands felt at her chest before dropping down below her waist. Her face paled almost instantly.
Naomi gulped, a faint idea of what happened already forming in her head, “Is everything alright?”
“Where the fuck are my panties?” Olivia hissed, going even redder.
Naomi coughed, Trevor was really pushing his luck with her. Looking closer at Olivia's shirt, it wasn't just her bra he took off either. No, she saw the way her breasts were hanging and how they moved around when Olivia turned. Her bra was gone as well.
“Shit!” Olivia hissed, standing up and looking around, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“Calm down!” Naomi whispered, “Do you… happen to have any spares?”
Olivia nodded, “I have some panties in my locker… I'll be back.”
Olivia shuffled off just as Wren came by, placing her tray down as she looked in, confused as to why Olivia was practically running out of the cafeteria.
Wren gave Naomi a look, “What's up with her?”
Naomi sighed, she knew telling the truth was not an option. “Wardrobe malfunction,” she replied, “she's getting some spare clothes from her locker.”
Wren grunted, “You doing alright, Naomi? You've been quiet today.”
Naomi stared at Wren for a while. She was acting like herself, and hadn't groped her breasts so far. “Just thinking about Trevor,” Naomi admitted, “he's been a hassle lately.”
“Going to dump him early?”
Naomi shook her head, “I don't think that's a good idea, he's…” Fuck, what should I say here?, “gotten a hold of something embarrassing of mine and I'm afraid if I dump him he'll tell everyone.”
Wren wrinkled her nose, “Ouch, he's really the type who would do that?” she gave a sympathetic squeeze to Naomi’s hand, “I'm sorry I ever went to bat for him. Well, whatever happens, Olivia and I will be here for you.”
Naomi smiled, but remembered Trevor's words that Olivia kept dirt on her and Wren in her phone. It didn't seem like he was lying either, as he'd offered to show her the proof and even delete it. I don't think Olivia will stand by me, Naomi thought. It was silly, of course she wouldn't. Still, that didn't mean Naomi wanted something like this to happen to her. She looked back at Wren who gave her a supportive smile and returned it. Wren might be different though, but Naomi wasn’t sure.
What she was sure about was that she needed to find out about what her uncle had. Luckily Trevor will be staying after school today for one of his stupid clubs, that meant Naomi would have a chance to look through her uncle's belongings and search for his blog on the internet,
So she did just that. After school, she went straight home and saw she would be alone for a few hours. Her parents were still working and Summerlyn had an evening class today.
Damn, Naomi thought, I was hoping to ask mom what she knew about Uncle Ian, hopefully she'll be back soon. No matter.* At least that meant she was able to search the basement without much issue.
At least, that's what she thought until she tried the door and found it locked. Ugh! Summerlyn!
Naomi pounded on the door out of frustration before growling, heading to Summerlyn’s room, hoping she'd find the key.
Thankfully, Summerlyn’s room didn't have a lock so getting in wasn't an issue. The issue then became finding the key, hopefully Summerlyn didn't take it with her. The bed and the desk weren't of any use, although as she checked under the bed she was surprised to see some of Summerlyn’s clothes just tossed underneath. Normally her sister would just toss them in the laundry bin.
Whatever. She checked her dresser and found the key in the third drawer. Afterwards she left to go down the basement.
It still looked the same as it did yesterday, with some of the furniture slightly moved as Naomi and Trevor looked through her uncle's belongings.
She started at the box where Trevor pulled that scroll from. Inside were some maps, a few souvenirs from other places her uncle had visited, but no other scrolls.
At the bottom of the box was an old journal. Naomi grabbed it and flipped through it, grinning as she realized it was a journal her uncle kept to record his travels. Hopefully, Uncle Ian would have written about something like this.
She searched through his other belongings, but that turned out to be a bust. So, with only a journal for her efforts, Naomi returned the basement key to Summerlyn’s room and started reading through the journal in her room.
Naomi would gather from the journal, as well as from her mom and Summerlyn, that her uncle didn't travel alone. He had someone else with him, a friend named Tom. Together the two of them traveled across the world, going across the United States, to Europe, and Asia as well.
From the journal, Naomi found out her uncle and Tom came across these scrolls as they were exploring an old ruin they found in a forest in Europe. Unfortunately, if they ever found out what these things were and what they did, her uncle didn't write them down.
All he wrote down was that he thought they were neat and he took one while his friend took several. So if I want to find out more about what's going on and how to stop Trevor, I'll need to find where Tom is and hope he knows anything about these scrolls.
It took her a while to find her uncle’s blog, but after an hour, she came across it. The blog detailed her uncle and Tom’s journey across the world, staring at the United States and how they traveled to Europe with little except what they could fit in their backpacks. She skipped ahead, seeing her uncle took several pictures of himself and Tom as they traveled along the world.
She came across an entry where her uncle and Tom decided to explore a forest somewhere in the United Kingdom. There, they came across the remains of a stone tower hidden deep in the forest and he had several photos of what they found inside, numerous old books rotting on bookshelves, strange symbols written on the walls, and, to her horror, several scrolls thrown about the tables.
There were a few comments on this blog post, with some commenters asking where exactly they were as they lived closeby, but had never encountered this stone tower ever before in their lives. Her blood ran cold when she saw her uncle responding to these comments, saying he’d tried to go back a few days later, but could not find where he and Tom stumbled upon the tower.
Her mom’s words echoed in her head, how Uncle Ian believed there was still magic out there hidden in the world and that he brought some back home with him. He did, Naomi thought, shutting off her laptop, he really did.
She wrote down everything she discovered in her journal. So far, it was the only thing keeping her sane, assuring her that all of this was actually real. She hid the journal in one of the drawers in her dresser before getting ready for bed.
The next day, before school, Naomi approached her mom and asked Tom, Uncle Ian’s friend.
“Of course I know about him,” her mom replied, “Why, he and Uncle Ian were practically inseparable when they were younger! Why?”
“I just wanted to learn more about Uncle Ian,” Naomi lied, “I feel like I never got to him. I was wondering if maybe Tom would tell me any stories about what he and Uncle Ian got up to.”
“Oh,” her mom replied sadly, “well… I'm afraid it's a little too late for that. Tom passed away a little while ago,”
Naomi grew cold, “What happened to him?”
“It was terrible,” her mom continued, “he and his daughter were in a car crash.”
Naomi leaned against the table to prevent herself from stumbling back. Her mom asked her what was wrong, but her words were meaningless buzzing to Naomi's ears. No! Naomi squeezed her eyes shut, He was the only one who would have had any answers!
“Naomi!” her mom said, grabbing her softly on the arm.
Naomi gasped, but returned to reality.
“Naomi…” her mom began, “What's wrong?”
“It's nothing.” she lied. “Nothing.”
Numb. She grabbed her backpack and went to school.
---
Trevor came back with her to her house. He was giddy, eagerly showing her the notes and other materials he managed to grab while he possessed their teachers' bodies.
“Here's the answer sheet for our history final,” Trevor said, grinning, “You're welcome for this, by the way, I know history is your worst subject.”
Naomi nodded, thanking Trevor listlessly as he went on about some of the other stuff he got up to with his new powers. She knew he was keeping some stuff from her, there was no way someone like him wouldn’t have misused those powers. He took over Wren and Olivia. The thought of what he did to Olivia made Naomi’s hands turn into fists by her side.
“Why did you take off Olivia's underwear?” Naomi asked, cutting him off.
Trevor rolled his eyes, “This again? Look, I might've gone too far with that one, but she isn't a good person. I already told you, and I just thought she needed to learn a lesson.”
“She had to walk around without a bra for the rest of the day, Trevor.”
Trevor actually laughed at that one, “I can tell you there were a few people who enjoyed that.”
“You told people?”
Trevor sighed, “Just a few, and besides, she deserved it! She's been talking shit about us for months, it was time someone knocked her down a peg!”
Naomi rubbed her temples, “And that someone had to be you, right?”
Trevor stood up, throwing his hands in the air, “I don't need to take this right now! I'm taking a five minute break, alright? Let me know when you're ready to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Naomi snapped as Trevor went to the door.
“Like I'm gross!” Trevor shouted, “like I'm a bug! You and Olivia both! You have that same look in your eye that she did, drop her and I'm sure we'll be better off for it!”
With that, he left, slamming the door behind him. Naomi rolled her eyes, and sighed. She needed to calm down, right now wasn't the best time to antagonize him, no matter how much he deserved it. Who knows what will be his breaking point and he decides to use his powers on her.
She looked down, noticing he left his phone on her bed. She couldn't help herself and opened it, as he'd told her his password.
There were several texts from some of his friends in his after school club, each one thanking him for telling them about Olivia's wardrobe incident with a few of them asking how he knew about it. So he's been keeping his powers a secret too. Naomi thought.
Each text made her stomach churn as each boy talked about how much they liked seeing Olivia like that and even asking Trevor if he could target some of the other girls as well. Thankfully, Trevor declined, but did ask if any of them would like a copy of the answer sheets to some upcoming tests.
Naomi checked his photo gallery next and nearly dropped his phone when she saw what was on it. There were numerous pictures of other girls in their grade in various states of undress. No doubt Trevor possessed them and made them take these pictures and send them to himself.
She nearly gagged when she came across the photos Trevor took of Olivia as well as Summerlyn. Olivia's seemed to be taken in one of the bathroom stalls and she was completely naked at one point, showing her pussy to the camera as well as showing her bra and panties being flushed down the toilet.
Summerlyn was similar as well. Several pictures were taken of her in various pieces of clothing before she became naked and flashed her bits to the camera. That night, Naomi thought, when I heard in her room, that was Trevor.
Before she could fully process what she was seeing, the door opened and Trevor paused when he saw his phone in her hands. Her shock made her drop his phone and it landed face up, showing that Naomi was looking through his gallery.
Trevor didn’t even get a word in before Naomi spoke, “What the hell?” Despite the emotions raging through her, those words were barely louder than a whisper.
“Listen, I can-”
“No!” Naomi cut off, raising her voice and getting off her bed and throwing his phone at him, “Get out! Now!”
Trevor backed up as she got closer, “Naomi, wait-!”
“Get out!” Naomi screeched, “I don't want to see you ever again! Those girls! My sister! Olivia! Get out, Trevor!”
Trevor didn’t move, just standing there as Noami shoved against him. He growled, standing his ground, but Naomi was stronger than he thought.
Naomi slapped him, but Trevor grabbed her arm before it landed. Naomi grunted, her chest tightening as she tried to yank her arm free, but Trevor kept it in an iron grip.
“I came across some interesting stuff in Olivia's phone when I possessed her,” Trevor began, “Is…” his voice broke slightly before he continued, “was our relationship… did it really begin as a dare?”
Naomi scoffed and yanked her hand back before shoving Trevor. He stumbled back, shocked. “Yes.” Naomi admitted, “Did you actually think otherwise?”
Trevor swallowed, his face hardening, “So you're just like them then. I thought you'd be different!”
Naomi laughed, you can't be serious, “Pfft! I'm just like them? All of them?”
“It's because of girls like you that never give people like me a chance!”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Please. You wanna know why none of the other girls never wanted anything to do with you? Why Olivia talked shit about you? It's because you're gross! All you see when you look at a woman is her body! Why else do you have all those pictures on your phone? That's all you care about, just seeing them naked! Getting your rocks off by looking at those pictures you send to yourself!”
The entire time Naomi tore into Trevor, his face hardened and turned red. It was almost funny really how sad and pathetic he looked when he was angry and genuinely trying to look intimidating.
However, as Naomi stepped closer, Trevor’s body suddenly went limp and slumped to the floor. Naomi blinked and knew what was happening. Oh no.
She shuddered, a feeling of pins and needles overtaking her as her vision went black.
---
Finally, Trevor thought as he opened his eyes to see himself in Naomi's body, I managed to shut her up.
He looked down on his own body and decided to leave it there for now. It would still be some time until Naomi's mom and sister got home and so he had the time to do whatever he wanted to with her body.
He didn't waste any time either. You never let me get to second base, he thought, a wicked smile on his lips, I think it's time that changes. He touched Naomi's breasts through her clothes. They weren't as big as some of the other girls he possessed, most notably Summerlyn and Olivia, but he appreciated how they felt in his hands right now. But how much better did they look?
He ripped off Naomi's shirt eagerly, grinning as her white bra was revealed. Oh Naomi, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this! Trevor thought, grinning as his hands once again went to her breasts, kneading them with the bra.
He sighed, feeling something going on between her legs. That sensation happened a lot while he was exploring the bodies of the girls he possessed. It was like getting an erection with a penis, but… different.
Naomi's pants came off next, followed by her socks. Her panties matched her bra, white, and Trevor hesitated briefly as his fingers dug beneath the fabric. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore, she made that more than clear, but still… the thought of seeing her naked was making him warm and dizzy.
He chuckled as he threw off her panties and collapsed on the bed as her bra followed shortly afterwards. Where's her phone? Trevor thought, I need to see how she looks! He found it and turned on her camera, changing to selfie mode and held it against his new body.
She was beautiful, but Trevor knew that already. Pale skin laid bare before him, her nipples the color of cherries and were hard and sensitive as his fingers brushed over them. He bit his lips, legs squirming, Fuck! Her tits aren't as large as Summerlyn’s, but they're sensitive!
He angled the phone to look between her legs. A neatly trimmed patch of hair greeted him, covering the entrance to her pussy which was very wet and he opened her pussy lips, his finger sliding in easily. He arched his back, biting hard on his lip to prevent himself from crying out loud.
Fuck! Trevor gasped, recovering from that sensation, That was… way different from a penis!
He licked his lips, trying to calm down. So far he'd only taken pictures of these girls to save for later when he returned to his own body. The thought of masturbating as them though… that made his face warm.
Trevor looked down at Naomi's pussy. It felt good when he accidentally slipped a finger inside, what if he tried to feel around- Holy-!
That must be the clitoris! Trevor wasn't able to stop himself, shouting out loudly as he flicked Naomi's clit, and started working it. His legs thrashed about, his free hand going to one of her breasts, rubbing against a still erect nipple. He could feel the pressure building and while he'd never orgasmed as a girl before, he knew what it was as it approached.
He cried out as the orgasm overtook him, coming along much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced as a guy. He gasped as the climax left him behind, letting him recover. I can't feel my legs. Trevor thought.
He glanced over at his body, still laying there. He had to think, if he left Naomi alone, she might cause problems for him in the future. Maybe there's a way for him to get around that.
Her phone provided a good solution. A few pictures of her naked for later was always appreciated, and it might be good to use to stop her from interfering with his plans. Of course, if that wasn't enough, he took a few pictures of Naomi with his dick in her hands as well as his mouth. It felt… strange to have a penis in his mouth, not something he'd want to do again.
Serves you right. Trevor thought, sending the photos to his phone and then making sure the evidence was deleted from her phone.
---
When Naomi came to, she found herself alone in her room, fully clothed. Trevor was gone and almost an hour had passed. What did he make me do? Naomi wondered, her mouth dry.
Her phone dinged. She reached for it hesitantly and took in a sharp breath through clenched teeth when she saw Trevor’s name appear on her screen. He sent her a text.
Trevor: If you don't want pictures like these circulating around the school, you'll do well to leave me alone.
Trevor: Thanks for the fun time though. ;)
Attached was a picture of her naked body with Trevor's dick in her mouth.
Naomi nearly dropped her phone.
Naomi tried her hardest not to let out a sigh of exasperation as Trevor continued on his little diatribe about some superheroes Naomi could not care less about. A few more weeks of this, Noami thought, glancing at the clock and getting frustrated at how slowly time seemed to be moving, can’t believe I agreed to this bet, I need to find something Olivia could do for me that’ll make all this worth it.
Trevor was still talking, not having noticed Naomi had checked out of the conversation. Physically, he was alright looking, average height, average weight, his face had some acne scars, but was otherwise fine, he didn’t smell which was great. No, that wasn’t the issue with him, the real issue was how he wouldn’t shut up and how he seemed to leer at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. Of course, it didn’t help that the thing he wouldn’t shut up about is how much he likes looking at women’s bodies.
At least he managed to keep his hands to himself, most of the time anyway, unfortunately, now wasn’t one of those times. As he was talking, he started scootching closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Naomi wanted to push him away, tell him to keep his hands to himself, but decided against it. She didn’t want him to break up with her before the month was over, now that would be one of the most embarrassing things that would have ever happened to her. That would also render the dare moot and Olivia would have won. As if a dweeb like him would have the backbone to break up with me, Naomi thought, smiling slightly, if he gets sad, a little bit of skin should do the trick and make him happy again.
Trevor noticed her smile and grinned, “Ah, so you think Supergirl is good too! Nice! You know, I think you’d make a great Supergirl!”
Naomi blinked, realizing he must think she was reacting to him, “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Well for one, you already look a bit like her,” he started counting, using his fingers, “you’re strong, determined, don’t take any crap from anyone, and you’re beautiful!”
Is he actually- Naomi smiled despite herself, she had no idea what he was talking about, but she was able to figure out that he was being earnest and, from what she could gather, Trevor does really enjoy Supergirl and if he thought she was like her, then who was she to deny such a compliment?
“Oh!” Trevor began, looking at the clock, “Sorry, I realize I’ve been talking for about half an hour now,” he blushed and scratched the back of his head, “Heh, sorry, sorry. How was your day?”
Naomi smiled, “I’ve been alright. Olivia and Wren and I have been talking a bit. Olivia’s been laughing lately, something about Victoria nearly embarrassing herself during the last cheer practice. I don’t know.”
Trevor nodded, “Is your mom and sister alright? I noticed they both seem a little down lately.”
Naomi sighed, “Oh, right. I haven’t told you about this because I didn’t want to ruin the mood,” that was a big lie, she hadn’t told him because she hardly cared herself, “my Great Uncle Ian passed away a few weeks ago and mom and Summerlyn have been going to his house and moving things in storage,” Naomi shrugged, “they asked dad and some of my other cousins to help bring some stuff here as well. I think everything’s in the basement.”
“Oh, I’m… really sorry, what happened to him?”
Naomi waved a hand, “He was old, and had some health problems before, something about a bad heart.”
“How’s your family taking it?”
I guess we’re talking about this now, Naomi thought, better than hearing him blather on about superheroes I don’t care about, much better than hearing him talk about other girls. “Mom’s taking it the hardest, she’s been almost inconsolable lately. Uncle Ian helped raise her since she was younger and she was there with him when he died.”
Trevor was silent for a moment before asking, “How are you taking it?”
Naomi shrugged, “Barely knew the guy, he had some cool stuff in his house though, wanna come see?”
“Oh, is that alright?”
“Should be,” Naomi replied, “just be careful not to break anything.”
Naomi helped him off her bed and together the two of them left her room and went to the basement. Her parents weren’t here right now, her dad was still at work, and her mom was probably at some cousin’s house making arrangements for Uncle Ian’s funeral. That only left herself and Summerlyn, who was probably in her room studying or something. Still, she’d rather not Summerlyn find out she was down here and tell her mom, who’d know when she’d hear the end of it, so she pressed a finger to her lips at Trevor before opening the door to her basement.
The basement wasn’t much, it was a bit larger than the downstairs living room and normally was used just to store the washer and dryer. Now, however, there were several pieces of furniture belonging to Uncle Ian stored down here, along with several boxes containing more of Uncle Ian’s stuff.
None of this stuff was particularly interesting to Naomi, there was a grandfather clock, thankfully it was broken, along with a vanity desk, a clothes drawer, and a rocking chair. The vanity desk held her interest for a moment, until Naomi realized it was too big for her room and was a bit too antique for her tastes. She glanced over at Trevor who took all of this in with a look of wonder on his face. I’m glad someone’s enjoying this, hopefully this will stop you from going on and on about superheroes.
“Aw, the clock doesn’t work?” Trevor asked.
Naomi shook her head, “According to mom, it stopped working a while ago and Uncle Ian never got around to trying to get it repaired.”
Trevor ran a hand against the carved wood of the clock, “Is this handmade? This is beautiful!”
His attention was quickly taken by some of the boxes of Uncle Ian’s belongings. He glanced at Naomi for permission and then started digging through his stuff. A bunch of it were old journals and some unpublished manuscripts. Mom had said Uncle Ian was a writer, but sadly his words will never be read by anyone.
Trevor was flipping through some of Uncle Ian’s journals, “Oh, your uncle used to travel? Says here, he’s been to France, Hungary, Japan, Mexico…”
Naomi held up a hand, “Yes, he used to travel a bit when he was younger, according to mom, he’d sometimes bring her and her brothers some souvenirs from the places he’s been to.”
“Hello!” Trevor said, picking up a rolled up piece of paper at the bottom of the box, “What are you?”
“Probably a photo or old letter,” Naomi guessed.
Trevor made a face as he unrolled the paper. He flipped it around, expression still puzzled.
“What’s up?” Naomi asked.
Trevor flipped the page towards her and she was met with a series of ineligible scribbles. Huh, I guess it’s probably a letter from someone he met when he was traveling around the world. Naomi thought, Looks old. “What language even is that?”
Trevor shrugged, squinting at the symbols written on the paper, “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly.”
Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Summerlyn came down the stairs. Of course, she’d show up and ruin the fun.
Summerlyn was Naomi’s older sister, and she looked like it too. She was taller than Naomi, her body lean and toned, not that you’d be able to tell since she wore clothes that did not show any skin, and her golden blonde hair was longer. The only notable difference between the two of them is that Summerlyn had gray eyes while Naomi had blue.
“What the hell are you two doing down here?” Summerlyn asked, pointing at Naomi, “Mom said she doesn’t want any guests down here!” she glanced at the books placed on the floor, “I’d clean that up if I was you, if mom knew you were digging through Uncle Ian’s stuff, she’d flip!”
Naomi rolled her eyes and stepped over to her sister, “What? Are you going to tell mom?”
“I will if you don’t clean this up,” Summerlyn replied.
“Oh my gosh, why are you so worked up about this, anyway?” Naomi asked, “You barely knew Uncle Ian.”
“I barely knew him?” Summerlyn asked, taking a step back, “Oh, right, you don’t pay attention to anything that's not on that phone of yours, huh? No, I knew Uncle Ian! More than you! He helped me apply for colleges and helped pay for my classes!”
Naomi held up her hands, “Oh wow, sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know every detail about your life, alright? Uncle Ian helped you and now you’re sad like mom, alright.”
Trevor nervously approached her from behind, “Hey, Naomi,” he began, “maybe we should just cle-”
“Are you taking her side?” Naomi asked, “Of course you would, of course!”
“What?” Trevor asked, “No, I’m not. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Boy, take it from me, you’re better off without her,” Summerlyn began.
Naomi glared at her. Don’t you fucking dare!
Trevor glanced at her, confused.
“Naomi doesn’t love you,” Summerlyn began, “she probably only asked you out as a dare or something. Trust me, you’re not her type and you will not be the one who changes her either. Trust me, just leave, and find someone else, someone who’d love you and-” she glanced at the shirt Trevor was wearing, “someone who wouldn’t mind talking about superheroes.”
Well, I guess Olivia won the bet, Naomi thought, thanks alot, sis.
Trevor, however, surprised her. He was trembling, the letter - or whatever it was - crumbled in his hand. At first Naomi was worried he was going to explode on them and took a step back, but no, the poor bastard stepped towards Summerlyn, his face red. “You stay quiet!” he shouted, surprising both Naomi and Summerlyn, “Don’t tell me who loves me and who doesn’t! I know Naomi and I are meant to be! And no one is going to tell me otherwise, alright!”
“Calm down!” Summerlyn shouted, raising her hands, “Calm down! Alright! You’re in love, I get-”
“No!” Trevor continued, “no, you don’t get it! For the first time in my life, I was asked out! If that’s not a sign, then I don’t know what is!”
Naomi gasped, noticing the paper in Trevor’s hand started to change, started to glow. At first, it was white, but soon burned red hot. Once she saw it, Summerlyn did too, and was freaking out, telling Trevor to drop it.
Unfortunately, Trevor didn’t notice, “Drop what? The fact that things are finally looking my way? Why wou-”
It all happened so fast. The paper burned bright, nearly blinding Naomi. There was a scream, although who was screaming, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly, the light vanished and the basement returned to normal. Except, there were only two people standing here now, Naomi herself, and Summerlyn who was looking down at herself as if she’d never seen her body before.
Naomi stepped forward, “Trevor?” she asked, her voice quivering. She didn’t see him, and couldn't find any trace of him anywhere. She looked around frantically, “Trevor!” she called again. What happened? Sure, he was a loser and she was going to dump his ass as soon as the month was over, but that didn’t mean she wanted him vaporized or whatever happened.
“Trevor!” Naomi screamed, tears stinging her eyes.
“I’m here,” Summerlyn breathed, hands over her breasts.
“Summerlyn, stop fucking around!” Naomi screeched, “Help me find where Trevor went!”
“Naomi, I’m here!” Summerlyn insisted, gesturing to herself, “I’m Trevor!”
Naomi blinked, “T-Trevor?” she asked.
Summerlyn nodded, “Yeah, yeah, it’s me! Uh…” Summerlyn, or Trevor, thought for a moment, “just earlier, I was telling you that I thought you’d make the perfect supergirl! Because you’re beautiful and blonde and-”
Naomi held up a hand, This… this can’t be happening! This isn’t real! she ran her hands through her hair, taking a breath in order to calm down. She looked around, finding no sign of that paper Trevor was holding earlier.
She did notice something else though, slumped over by the dusty furniture, was Trevor’s body. It landed a short distance away from Naomi and Summerlyn. Is Summerlyn in there? Naomi walked over to Trevor’s body and prodded it, wondering if, somehow, Summerlyn had ended up in Trevor’s body like how Trevor ended up in Summerlyn’s. No response.
Naomi checked and found that Trevor’s body was, thankfully, still breathing and still had a pulse, but it looked like no one was home. Naomi sighed, looking over at Summerlyn to see Trevor was fondling his new breasts through Summerlyn’s tank top. Of course that’s what you’re doing.
Naomi cleared her throat to get Trevor’s attention. To his credit, he did seem embarrassed when he saw Naomi notice him exploring her older sister’s body. “Help me get your body upstairs,” she said, ignoring where Trevor still had his hands, “quick, I don’t want my mom coming in and seeing us in here like this!”
That snapped Trevor out of his trance and he helped Naomi carry his body up stairs. Trevor’s body was a little on the heavier side, and Naomi wasn’t the biggest fan of his smell. It could be worse, but it also could have been better. Thankfully, while neither Naomi or Summerlyn were the strongest, they were able to carry Trevor’s body back up the stairs and into Naomi’s room where they propped up his body on the bed.
Naomi sighed, rubbing her arms, “How are you doing?” she asked.
Trevor gulped, “I’m not sure, honestly,” he replied, “it’s… it’s strange seeing myself from the outside like this.”
“Do you know where Summerlyn is?” Naomi asked, “She’s not in your body.”
“If I had to guess, she might still be in this body, but I’m currently in control or something.” Trevor flexed Summerlyn’s hands, watching the movement raptly, his gaze slowly moved from her hands to other parts of her body.
Naomi wasn’t sure why, but seeing him looking at her sister’s body like that was making her angry. Out of the people, why was it Summerlyn? Of course, the thought of Trevor in her body made her shiver, something Trevor thankfully didn’t notice as he was too busy looking down at Summerlyn’s body to notice what Naomi was doing grinning widely as he looked down Summerlyn’s shirt.
“Can you get out of her body?” Naomi snapped, coming out less of a question and more of a demand.
That snapped Trevor out of his daydreams and he, once again, looked abashedly at Naomi, he scratched the back of Summerlyn’s head, a sheepish smile on her face, “Uhh… I’m not sure.”
“Well,” Naomi paused for a moment, I am not letting you stay in my sisters body any longer than you already have, “can you figure something out? Like… try to imagine leaving her body and… I don’t know, do it?”
Trevor sighed, “Alright… I’ll…I’ll try.”
Trevor was silent for a moment, closing his eyes and looking deep in concentration. A minute passed, and then another. Naomi was beginning to feel frustrated, wondering if Trevor was even trying. He’s probably not, she thought sourly, crossing her arms, he probably just wants me to think he is so he can stay as Summerlyn a bit longer. She had just finished the thought when Summerlyn suddenly slumped over.
Naomi cried out, rushing towards Summerlyn to avoid her crashing to the floor just as Trevor’s body gasped. “It worked!” Trevor cried out.
“Glad to hear!” Naomi growled, making sure her sister didn’t hurt herself too much from the fall.
“Do you think she knows what happened?” Trevor asked, approaching the two of them.
“I don’t know,” Naomi replied truthfully. Although for your own sake, you’d better hope she doesn’t remember.
Summerlyn started to come to, blinking and waving Naomi and Trevor away, “Huh? What happened?”
“You nearly fainted earlier in the basement-!” Trevor said quickly, “Afterwards Naomi and I dragged you up here to see if you were alright. We were about to call someone when you started coming to.”
Summerlyn frowned, and shook her head, “Argh, alright, well,” she groaned as she stood up, placing her hands on her hips, “I don’t want either of you going into the basement anymore, alright? Neither of you have seen how mom’s been lately and I don’t think you two messing around down there will help her, alright?”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Alright, sis, whatever you say.”
Trevor nodded, “Alright.”
Summerlyn nodded, “Good, now… I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Summerlyn rubbed her head as she left Naomi’s room. Well it looks like she doesn’t remember what happened when Trevor was inside her, Naomi thought, probably for the best, I doubt she’d take that better than I would.
Her hands turned to fists by her side, speaking of which, she turned to Trevor, “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed what you were doing in my sister's body!” she hissed.
Trevor sucked in a breath and stepped back, holding his hands out in front of him, “Woah! Heh, heh, easy Naomi,” he gave a nervous chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, “look, I’m sorry about that, alright? I’ve never been a girl before, I’ve never had or touched boobs, I… just… didn’t think right.”
Naomi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, rather it was Summerlyn than me. she suppressed a shiver, would the thought of returning to his own body even occur to him without me pushing it onto him?
“Naomi,” Trevor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she had to stop herself from jerking out of his grasp, “I’m sorry. Really, I am. Can we, please put this all behind us?”
Naomi stared into his eyes. Where in the world would Uncle Ian get one of these things? Whatever, hopefully, now that the scroll - or whatever it was - is gone, she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. “Sure, let’s put this all behind us.”
Trevor grinned and hugged her. Naomi, reluctantly, returned his hug. Trevor was the one who broke it off, noticing the clock on her wall, “Oh, is it eight already? I need to get going,” he turned to her, “see you at school?”
Naomi nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see you at school.”
Naomi helped Trevor gather his belongings and saw him to the door as he started to walk back home. She sighed, curious about whether or not there were other scrolls down there in the basement. She considered going down there herself and checking, but decided against it, she’d already promised Summerlyn and if she found her down there again, well, she’d never hear the end of it.
Maybe mom knows what Uncle Ian was up to? Naomi thought. I should probably check on Summerlyn. Her sister left the door to her room open a crack and, peering through, Naomi saw Summerlyn was buried in a book, taking down notes for one of her classes. Of course she was.
Naomi considered texting Wren and Olivia what she and Trevor found in the basement, going as far as beginning to type it out, before deciding not to and deleting the message. She barely believed what happened and she was there to witness it herself, how would those two believe what she said?
Instead, she decided to open a blank journal and started writing things down. She had to, just to process what was happening, to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind. She had just finished writing when her mom, who’d gotten home some time earlier, called her and Summerlyn down to eat.
“Hey mom," Naomi began between bites.
“Hmm?” her mom grunted.
“What was it exactly that Great Uncle Ian did?”
Her mom made a face, “Why do you ask?”
“Trevor was wondering what he did?” Naomi lied.
Her mom sighed, “He liked to travel a lot. He told me how he backpacked across Europe and even the United States a few times and what he’s seen on those travels,” she chuckled to herself, “he’d brought back several souvenirs and wrote multiple blogs about the places he’d been and what he’d found. You know, when I was younger, he’d always insist he came across real magic out there in the world, hidden in places almost forgotten and yet, he managed to find them and bring them back with him.”
I guess he did find some magic afterall, Naomi thought, thanking her mom for dinner and heading back upstairs. She’d need to track down her uncle’s blogs, see if maybe there was an explanation for whatever happened in the basement. But, maybe that was something she’ll do for another time, since it was getting late and she was getting tired.
As Naomi got her things ready and left down the hall to take a shower, she noticed the door to Summerlyn’s room was closed. Odd, since she always left it a little open in case someone called for her. As Naomi passed by, she thought she heard the sound of Summerlyn’s phone camera going off. She shook her head, whatever, what Summerlyn was up to was none of her business.
Oh well. Naomi thought, crawling into bed. I just hope whatever happened to Trevor was just temporary. She shivered, the thought of him being able to just take over people's bodies like that. She had an idea of what he'd use them for and hoped that whatever happened was just a one time thing.
---
The next morning, Naomi woke up and got ready to go to school. She stopped by to check up on Summerlyn before she left, she couldn't explain why, but she was just worried more than usual.
Summerlyn was still asleep when Naomi walked in. She considered maybe trying to wake her up, but decided against it, no doubt she'd get an earful from Summerlyn about how disrespectful that is or something like that.
Guess I'll just check up on you again later. Naomi thought, going downstairs.
---
Olivia was already waiting for her when she walked through the doors into Milton High. Strangely, Wren was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was sick?
“Where's Wren?” Naomi asked.
Olivia rolled her eyes, “She said she had to run to the restroom, something about breakfast not agreeing with her or something.” Olivia shook her head, “Whatever. How're you and Trevor doing, by the way? How are you two holding up?”
Naomi resisted the urge to stick out her tongue in disgust, “He still thinks we're actually dating,” Olivia interrupted her to make a gagging sound, Naomi couldn't say she disagreed, “you should listen to him talk, so disgusting. It's worse than when he talks non stop about those annoying superheroes or whatever it is he cares about.”
“Oh?” Olivia began, getting closer, “What does he say? The disgusting stuff, I don't care about anything else.”
Naomi smiled, and looked around to make sure Trevor wasn't nearby to overhear her, “He keeps talking about girls and what he would do if he got to the point where they had sex.”
Olivia gasped.
Naomi continued, smiling as she recounted her horrible first “date” with him, “You know, he asked me what kind of woman I was and what I expected him to do in our relationship? Well, since I didn't want to get dumped by him I had to play into it and said I would do the housework and cook while he gets to be treated as a king all day. He ate that up hook, line, and sinker. Then he asked about sex! Just like that! No other conversation! Just sex! Sex! Sex!” Naomi sighed, "What's worse is that afterwards, he just keeps rambling on and on about anime and superheroes."
Olivia was barely able to stand from laughing so much, “Oh my! Naomi I almost feel sorry for you for making you do this!”
“You will be sorry when I win this bet and you have to do something for me.” Naomi replied.
“Hey girls!” Wren greeted, walking over to them, “What are you all talking about?”
“Oh you're not going to believe this,” Olivia began, still laughing, “Naomi's been telling us all about what she and Trevor have been doing lately!”
“Ooh!” Wren exclaimed, “What do you think about Trevor?”
Olivia laughed, “The dude's a creep! He's even more of a loser than I thought he was! Sex this! Sex that!”
Wren frowned, “Oh? Is that what you think of him?”
Olivia shrugged, “As much as I know about him, anyway. You know, Trevor looks alright, a bit short maybe, but that personality just really kills it!”
Wren made a face and stepped closer, “You think all that before even getting to know him?”
Olivia held up her hands in mock surrender and chuckled, “Woah, relax Wren, I'm just having some fun! Trevor's a little weirdo! That's all there is to him really, he just thinks about women he likes and that's it. Not even in a good way either.”
Wren scoffed, “is that so?”
Olivia sighed in exasperation, “Oh my god, Wren! I don't know why you're so mad about this! I'm going to see if the cafeterias are still serving breakfast, if you want to calm down and talk to me you can find me there, alright?”
With that, Olivia left. Naomi stared after her, mouth dry. She turned over to Wren who watched Olivia with anger and sadness in her eyes. Except Naomi wasn’t sure that was Wren behind those eyes.
Wren turned to her, noticing Naomi staring, “What?” She asked.
There's no way… “Trevor?” Naomi began hesitantly, “Is… is that you?”
Wren grinned, “Yup!” Trevor admitted, fist pumping the air, “it's me!” he chuckled, “I still have the powers that scroll gave me, it's insane! Hey, I used them on Ms. Shaw earlier and used them to steal the answers for today's quiz!”
Naomi felt her skin crawl. Olivia said Wren went to the bathroom earlier, was that when Trevor possessed her? Or did that happen earlier? She shivered, thinking about what he might have done when he was alone.
Naomi crossed her arms beneath her breasts, “Trevor,” she began, “Please get our of my friend.”
Trevor blinked and then chuckled, “Oh, yeah! I… really should get back to my body before school starts, huh? Come with me, I left my body in the boys bathroom.”
Naomi sighed and followed Trevor. She was barely paying attention as he excitedly told her some of the questions and answers to the quiz. She focused more on what he might have done and what he will probably do.
“Is something wrong?” Trevor asked as they stopped in front of the boys bathroom.
“Hmm?” Naomi asked, “Oh, nothing! It's fine, I was just… wondering about your powers.”
Trevor chuckled, “I've been wondering about them too and I've been trying to test out the limits, but I think I'll save that for another day. Do me a favor and catch Wren, will you? I don't want to hurt her sweet body.”
Before Naomi could answer, Wren suddenly slumped forward and Naomi leapt to catch Wren before she fell to the floor. She held her up as Wren slowly regained consciousness, “Ugh… what? Naomi? Where am I?”
“Wren?” Naomi asked, “You've… passed out earlier with Olivia. I was taking you to the nurse when you started waking up!” Trevor, I am going to kill you!
Wren grumbled, shaking her head. Please believe me. She blinked, looking around, “What time is it?” she winced, “I think I'll go see the nurse myself, thanks for carrying me all this way.” She waved away Naomi and walked off, heading in the direction of the nurse’s office.
With that, Trevor came out of the bathroom, smiling. “She didn't remember anything! Heh heh! Can you believe that?”
“Yeah…” Naomi began, “that's really something.” She hoped her expression didn’t let slip the amount of disgust she was feeling.
“Hey Naomi,” Trevor began, sobering up, “I… need to ask you an important question.”
Naomi managed to keep a neutral expression as she turned to look at him, “What's that?” She asked, suddenly worried.
“Earlier, when Olivia was talking shit about me… how come you kept silent?”
Naomi froze. How much did he overhear? Did he know Naomi was the one who told Olivia about all those things? Or did he think Olivia was the one who said all that herself? What will he do if he finds out the truth? Naomi could feel herself starting to sweat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anything to say, either in denial, or in deflection.
Trevor sighed, looking heartbroken, taking her hesitation as something else entirely “It's… whatever. I'll see you after school, alright?”
“Alright.” Naomi replied, her heart pounding as she watched him go. That… that was close.
---
The rest of the day Naomi had trouble focusing on anything her teachers were saying, whatever, she could probably just ask one of her other classmates for notes. She was too busy thinking about what was happening with Trevor. What the hell was her great uncle getting up to? Did Uncle Ian have anything else like that hidden among his belongings? Could she find something to possibly reverse this?
The power to just take over someone’s body was freaky enough as is, but the thought of Trevor of all people having it just made her skin crawl. On their first day, Trevor told her all the things he loves about a woman, with one of the top things being her body, and how he can’t stop himself from looking no matter how hard he tries.
Jeez, the boy had no tack and was just overall unpleasant to be around. A shame, too, Naomi thought, I bet he honestly thought he was complimenting me by going on and on about how beautiful I am. Naomi suppressed a smirk, the truth was that she was flattered at first, but his constant pointing out of her looks lost their charm very quickly.
“Naomi Walker!”
Naomi came crashing down back into reality, “Huh?”
Her teacher, Mr. Gray, sighed, rubbing his temples, “I was asking if you knew how to solve this equation…”
Naomi felt her face grow warm as she glanced at the whiteboard and had no idea what on earth she was looking at, “No,” she admitted, “I do not.” That earned a round of snickers from her other classmates.
Mr. Gray shook his head, “Rachel Smith, you’re up.”
Great. Naomi thought, letting her mind wander again. Now Trevor’s making things difficult in other ways as well.
---
Lunch couldn’t come quick enough. Naomi gathered her things and headed off quickly, wanting nothing more to regroup with Wren and Olivia. She thought about telling them about the situation, but decided against it. There’s no way they’ll believe me, Naomi thought, I can still just barely believe this is happening and I was there to see it happen twice! I need to find out more about Uncle Ian, if nothing else, he’ll be the one with any answers
At least she could, hopefully, relax around them for a bit. Maybe Olivia would have some gossip to help her take her mind off things for a while. After grabbing her lunch, Naomi noticed Olivia sitting at a different spot than usual even though their table was empty. Naomi swallowed, He wouldn't. her nervousness gave way to anger the closer she got, her shoes hitting the ground harder and harder with each step. He. Fucking. Wouldn't.
“Olivia” turned to her as she approached. She had an uncharacteristic big grin on her face and her hands were… Fucking Trevor! her hands were groping her own breasts.
“HI Naomi!” Trevor greeted from inside Olivia's body, “You won't be-”
“Get out.” Naomi ordered.
Trevor smiled, taking his hands off Olivia's breasts, “Woah! Woah!” He began, “No need to get so angry with me, alright? I just don't think Olivia's that good of a friend for you! I mean, what kind of friend badmouths their other friends' boyfriends? I mean, you heard the things she was saying about me.”
“Get. Out.” Naomi repeated.
“That's not all,” Trevor continued, ignoring Naomi, “I checked her phone earlier, did you know she has some dirt on you and Wren as well? I couldn't believe it myself and I was the one who found it-”
“Trevor.” Naomi growled, finally getting him to shut up and listen, “Get. Out. Of. Her. Body. Now!”
Trevor blinked, and looked away, “Alright,” he said, his voice low, “but… can you promise me something?”
“What?” Naomi snapped.
Trevor looked back at her, “Can you defend me next time?” he paused before continuing, “I'm not asking for much, at least I don't think I am. But when she was talking shit about me, you just stood there and let her keep talking.”
Naomi blinked, this fucking guy… She knew he had a point. Even she could see that, but given his actions so far, it seemed Olivia had a point. But right now wasn't a good time to confront him about any of this.
She nodded, “Alright,” she conceded, “I'll tell Olivia to stop picking on you.”
Trevor smiled and then Olivia started shaking, her eyes rolling back before she gasped and nearly fell on the table. Trevor was gone, most likely returning to his own body, wherever that was.
“Ugh,” Olivia moaned, rubbing her head, “How the hell did I get here?”
“What's wrong?” Naomi asked.
“Naomi?” Olivia asked, noticing her, “Last thing I remember was being in fifth period when everything just went…” Olivia's eyes widened and her face went red. Her hands felt at her chest before dropping down below her waist. Her face paled almost instantly.
Naomi gulped, a faint idea of what happened already forming in her head, “Is everything alright?”
“Where the fuck are my panties?” Olivia hissed, going even redder.
Naomi coughed, Trevor was really pushing his luck with her. Looking closer at Olivia's shirt, it wasn't just her bra he took off either. No, she saw the way her breasts were hanging and how they moved around when Olivia turned. Her bra was gone as well.
“Shit!” Olivia hissed, standing up and looking around, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“Calm down!” Naomi whispered, “Do you… happen to have any spares?”
Olivia nodded, “I have some panties in my locker… I'll be back.”
Olivia shuffled off just as Wren came by, placing her tray down as she looked in, confused as to why Olivia was practically running out of the cafeteria.
Wren gave Naomi a look, “What's up with her?”
Naomi sighed, she knew telling the truth was not an option. “Wardrobe malfunction,” she replied, “she's getting some spare clothes from her locker.”
Wren grunted, “You doing alright, Naomi? You've been quiet today.”
Naomi stared at Wren for a while. She was acting like herself, and hadn't groped her breasts so far. “Just thinking about Trevor,” Naomi admitted, “he's been a hassle lately.”
“Going to dump him early?”
Naomi shook her head, “I don't think that's a good idea, he's…” Fuck, what should I say here?, “gotten a hold of something embarrassing of mine and I'm afraid if I dump him he'll tell everyone.”
Wren wrinkled her nose, “Ouch, he's really the type who would do that?” she gave a sympathetic squeeze to Naomi’s hand, “I'm sorry I ever went to bat for him. Well, whatever happens, Olivia and I will be here for you.”
Naomi smiled, but remembered Trevor's words that Olivia kept dirt on her and Wren in her phone. It didn't seem like he was lying either, as he'd offered to show her the proof and even delete it. I don't think Olivia will stand by me, Naomi thought. It was silly, of course she wouldn't. Still, that didn't mean Naomi wanted something like this to happen to her. She looked back at Wren who gave her a supportive smile and returned it. Wren might be different though, but Naomi wasn’t sure.
What she was sure about was that she needed to find out about what her uncle had. Luckily Trevor will be staying after school today for one of his stupid clubs, that meant Naomi would have a chance to look through her uncle's belongings and search for his blog on the internet,
So she did just that. After school, she went straight home and saw she would be alone for a few hours. Her parents were still working and Summerlyn had an evening class today.
Damn, Naomi thought, I was hoping to ask mom what she knew about Uncle Ian, hopefully she'll be back soon. No matter.* At least that meant she was able to search the basement without much issue.
At least, that's what she thought until she tried the door and found it locked. Ugh! Summerlyn!
Naomi pounded on the door out of frustration before growling, heading to Summerlyn’s room, hoping she'd find the key.
Thankfully, Summerlyn’s room didn't have a lock so getting in wasn't an issue. The issue then became finding the key, hopefully Summerlyn didn't take it with her. The bed and the desk weren't of any use, although as she checked under the bed she was surprised to see some of Summerlyn’s clothes just tossed underneath. Normally her sister would just toss them in the laundry bin.
Whatever. She checked her dresser and found the key in the third drawer. Afterwards she left to go down the basement.
It still looked the same as it did yesterday, with some of the furniture slightly moved as Naomi and Trevor looked through her uncle's belongings.
She started at the box where Trevor pulled that scroll from. Inside were some maps, a few souvenirs from other places her uncle had visited, but no other scrolls.
At the bottom of the box was an old journal. Naomi grabbed it and flipped through it, grinning as she realized it was a journal her uncle kept to record his travels. Hopefully, Uncle Ian would have written about something like this.
She searched through his other belongings, but that turned out to be a bust. So, with only a journal for her efforts, Naomi returned the basement key to Summerlyn’s room and started reading through the journal in her room.
Naomi would gather from the journal, as well as from her mom and Summerlyn, that her uncle didn't travel alone. He had someone else with him, a friend named Tom. Together the two of them traveled across the world, going across the United States, to Europe, and Asia as well.
From the journal, Naomi found out her uncle and Tom came across these scrolls as they were exploring an old ruin they found in a forest in Europe. Unfortunately, if they ever found out what these things were and what they did, her uncle didn't write them down.
All he wrote down was that he thought they were neat and he took one while his friend took several. So if I want to find out more about what's going on and how to stop Trevor, I'll need to find where Tom is and hope he knows anything about these scrolls.
It took her a while to find her uncle’s blog, but after an hour, she came across it. The blog detailed her uncle and Tom’s journey across the world, staring at the United States and how they traveled to Europe with little except what they could fit in their backpacks. She skipped ahead, seeing her uncle took several pictures of himself and Tom as they traveled along the world.
She came across an entry where her uncle and Tom decided to explore a forest somewhere in the United Kingdom. There, they came across the remains of a stone tower hidden deep in the forest and he had several photos of what they found inside, numerous old books rotting on bookshelves, strange symbols written on the walls, and, to her horror, several scrolls thrown about the tables.
There were a few comments on this blog post, with some commenters asking where exactly they were as they lived closeby, but had never encountered this stone tower ever before in their lives. Her blood ran cold when she saw her uncle responding to these comments, saying he’d tried to go back a few days later, but could not find where he and Tom stumbled upon the tower.
Her mom’s words echoed in her head, how Uncle Ian believed there was still magic out there hidden in the world and that he brought some back home with him. He did, Naomi thought, shutting off her laptop, he really did.
She wrote down everything she discovered in her journal. So far, it was the only thing keeping her sane, assuring her that all of this was actually real. She hid the journal in one of the drawers in her dresser before getting ready for bed.
The next day, before school, Naomi approached her mom and asked Tom, Uncle Ian’s friend.
“Of course I know about him,” her mom replied, “Why, he and Uncle Ian were practically inseparable when they were younger! Why?”
“I just wanted to learn more about Uncle Ian,” Naomi lied, “I feel like I never got to him. I was wondering if maybe Tom would tell me any stories about what he and Uncle Ian got up to.”
“Oh,” her mom replied sadly, “well… I'm afraid it's a little too late for that. Tom passed away a little while ago,”
Naomi grew cold, “What happened to him?”
“It was terrible,” her mom continued, “he and his daughter were in a car crash.”
Naomi leaned against the table to prevent herself from stumbling back. Her mom asked her what was wrong, but her words were meaningless buzzing to Naomi's ears. No! Naomi squeezed her eyes shut, He was the only one who would have had any answers!
“Naomi!” her mom said, grabbing her softly on the arm.
Naomi gasped, but returned to reality.
“Naomi…” her mom began, “What's wrong?”
“It's nothing.” she lied. “Nothing.”
Numb. She grabbed her backpack and went to school.
---
Trevor came back with her to her house. He was giddy, eagerly showing her the notes and other materials he managed to grab while he possessed their teachers' bodies.
“Here's the answer sheet for our history final,” Trevor said, grinning, “You're welcome for this, by the way, I know history is your worst subject.”
Naomi nodded, thanking Trevor listlessly as he went on about some of the other stuff he got up to with his new powers. She knew he was keeping some stuff from her, there was no way someone like him wouldn’t have misused those powers. He took over Wren and Olivia. The thought of what he did to Olivia made Naomi’s hands turn into fists by her side.
“Why did you take off Olivia's underwear?” Naomi asked, cutting him off.
Trevor rolled his eyes, “This again? Look, I might've gone too far with that one, but she isn't a good person. I already told you, and I just thought she needed to learn a lesson.”
“She had to walk around without a bra for the rest of the day, Trevor.”
Trevor actually laughed at that one, “I can tell you there were a few people who enjoyed that.”
“You told people?”
Trevor sighed, “Just a few, and besides, she deserved it! She's been talking shit about us for months, it was time someone knocked her down a peg!”
Naomi rubbed her temples, “And that someone had to be you, right?”
Trevor stood up, throwing his hands in the air, “I don't need to take this right now! I'm taking a five minute break, alright? Let me know when you're ready to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Naomi snapped as Trevor went to the door.
“Like I'm gross!” Trevor shouted, “like I'm a bug! You and Olivia both! You have that same look in your eye that she did, drop her and I'm sure we'll be better off for it!”
With that, he left, slamming the door behind him. Naomi rolled her eyes, and sighed. She needed to calm down, right now wasn't the best time to antagonize him, no matter how much he deserved it. Who knows what will be his breaking point and he decides to use his powers on her.
She looked down, noticing he left his phone on her bed. She couldn't help herself and opened it, as he'd told her his password.
There were several texts from some of his friends in his after school club, each one thanking him for telling them about Olivia's wardrobe incident with a few of them asking how he knew about it. So he's been keeping his powers a secret too. Naomi thought.
Each text made her stomach churn as each boy talked about how much they liked seeing Olivia like that and even asking Trevor if he could target some of the other girls as well. Thankfully, Trevor declined, but did ask if any of them would like a copy of the answer sheets to some upcoming tests.
Naomi checked his photo gallery next and nearly dropped his phone when she saw what was on it. There were numerous pictures of other girls in their grade in various states of undress. No doubt Trevor possessed them and made them take these pictures and send them to himself.
She nearly gagged when she came across the photos Trevor took of Olivia as well as Summerlyn. Olivia's seemed to be taken in one of the bathroom stalls and she was completely naked at one point, showing her pussy to the camera as well as showing her bra and panties being flushed down the toilet.
Summerlyn was similar as well. Several pictures were taken of her in various pieces of clothing before she became naked and flashed her bits to the camera. That night, Naomi thought, when I heard in her room, that was Trevor.
Before she could fully process what she was seeing, the door opened and Trevor paused when he saw his phone in her hands. Her shock made her drop his phone and it landed face up, showing that Naomi was looking through his gallery.
Trevor didn’t even get a word in before Naomi spoke, “What the hell?” Despite the emotions raging through her, those words were barely louder than a whisper.
“Listen, I can-”
“No!” Naomi cut off, raising her voice and getting off her bed and throwing his phone at him, “Get out! Now!”
Trevor backed up as she got closer, “Naomi, wait-!”
“Get out!” Naomi screeched, “I don't want to see you ever again! Those girls! My sister! Olivia! Get out, Trevor!”
Trevor didn’t move, just standing there as Noami shoved against him. He growled, standing his ground, but Naomi was stronger than he thought.
Naomi slapped him, but Trevor grabbed her arm before it landed. Naomi grunted, her chest tightening as she tried to yank her arm free, but Trevor kept it in an iron grip.
“I came across some interesting stuff in Olivia's phone when I possessed her,” Trevor began, “Is…” his voice broke slightly before he continued, “was our relationship… did it really begin as a dare?”
Naomi scoffed and yanked her hand back before shoving Trevor. He stumbled back, shocked. “Yes.” Naomi admitted, “Did you actually think otherwise?”
Trevor swallowed, his face hardening, “So you're just like them then. I thought you'd be different!”
Naomi laughed, you can't be serious, “Pfft! I'm just like them? All of them?”
“It's because of girls like you that never give people like me a chance!”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Please. You wanna know why none of the other girls never wanted anything to do with you? Why Olivia talked shit about you? It's because you're gross! All you see when you look at a woman is her body! Why else do you have all those pictures on your phone? That's all you care about, just seeing them naked! Getting your rocks off by looking at those pictures you send to yourself!”
The entire time Naomi tore into Trevor, his face hardened and turned red. It was almost funny really how sad and pathetic he looked when he was angry and genuinely trying to look intimidating.
However, as Naomi stepped closer, Trevor’s body suddenly went limp and slumped to the floor. Naomi blinked and knew what was happening. Oh no.
She shuddered, a feeling of pins and needles overtaking her as her vision went black.
---
Finally, Trevor thought as he opened his eyes to see himself in Naomi's body, I managed to shut her up.
He looked down on his own body and decided to leave it there for now. It would still be some time until Naomi's mom and sister got home and so he had the time to do whatever he wanted to with her body.
He didn't waste any time either. You never let me get to second base, he thought, a wicked smile on his lips, I think it's time that changes. He touched Naomi's breasts through her clothes. They weren't as big as some of the other girls he possessed, most notably Summerlyn and Olivia, but he appreciated how they felt in his hands right now. But how much better did they look?
He ripped off Naomi's shirt eagerly, grinning as her white bra was revealed. Oh Naomi, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this! Trevor thought, grinning as his hands once again went to her breasts, kneading them with the bra.
He sighed, feeling something going on between her legs. That sensation happened a lot while he was exploring the bodies of the girls he possessed. It was like getting an erection with a penis, but… different.
Naomi's pants came off next, followed by her socks. Her panties matched her bra, white, and Trevor hesitated briefly as his fingers dug beneath the fabric. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore, she made that more than clear, but still… the thought of seeing her naked was making him warm and dizzy.
He chuckled as he threw off her panties and collapsed on the bed as her bra followed shortly afterwards. Where's her phone? Trevor thought, I need to see how she looks! He found it and turned on her camera, changing to selfie mode and held it against his new body.
She was beautiful, but Trevor knew that already. Pale skin laid bare before him, her nipples the color of cherries and were hard and sensitive as his fingers brushed over them. He bit his lips, legs squirming, Fuck! Her tits aren't as large as Summerlyn’s, but they're sensitive!
He angled the phone to look between her legs. A neatly trimmed patch of hair greeted him, covering the entrance to her pussy which was very wet and he opened her pussy lips, his finger sliding in easily. He arched his back, biting hard on his lip to prevent himself from crying out loud.
Fuck! Trevor gasped, recovering from that sensation, That was… way different from a penis!
He licked his lips, trying to calm down. So far he'd only taken pictures of these girls to save for later when he returned to his own body. The thought of masturbating as them though… that made his face warm.
Trevor looked down at Naomi's pussy. It felt good when he accidentally slipped a finger inside, what if he tried to feel around- Holy-!
That must be the clitoris! Trevor wasn't able to stop himself, shouting out loudly as he flicked Naomi's clit, and started working it. His legs thrashed about, his free hand going to one of her breasts, rubbing against a still erect nipple. He could feel the pressure building and while he'd never orgasmed as a girl before, he knew what it was as it approached.
He cried out as the orgasm overtook him, coming along much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced as a guy. He gasped as the climax left him behind, letting him recover. I can't feel my legs. Trevor thought.
He glanced over at his body, still laying there. He had to think, if he left Naomi alone, she might cause problems for him in the future. Maybe there's a way for him to get around that.
Her phone provided a good solution. A few pictures of her naked for later was always appreciated, and it might be good to use to stop her from interfering with his plans. Of course, if that wasn't enough, he took a few pictures of Naomi with his dick in her hands as well as his mouth. It felt… strange to have a penis in his mouth, not something he'd want to do again.
Serves you right. Trevor thought, sending the photos to his phone and then making sure the evidence was deleted from her phone.
---
When Naomi came to, she found herself alone in her room, fully clothed. Trevor was gone and almost an hour had passed. What did he make me do? Naomi wondered, her mouth dry.
Her phone dinged. She reached for it hesitantly and took in a sharp breath through clenched teeth when she saw Trevor’s name appear on her screen. He sent her a text.
Trevor: If you don't want pictures like these circulating around the school, you'll do well to leave me alone.
Trevor: Thanks for the fun time though. ;)
Attached was a picture of her naked body with Trevor's dick in her mouth.
Naomi nearly dropped her phone.
mtf
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Oblivious
I wake up. Or rather, we do.
The ceiling is unfamiliar for a split second, but then it clicks. The faint, geometric pattern of shadows from the blinds. The smell of old takeout and clean laundry. Tyler’s bedroom. This is his room. His consciousness, a dense, unyielding weight, fills the entire space of our shared awareness. There is no room for me, Ashley, to be anything but a shiver at the edges, a silent observer encased in the amber of his will.
He sits up. The sheets are his—dark gray, practical. They fall away, and he looks down at our body. His head, with his own familiar face—the strong jaw, the stubble, his short, brown hair—turns on a neck that connects to a landscape that is not his. From the collarbones down, it is all me. Soft, full breasts, curved hips, the gentle swell of a belly. He sees only his body. A possession, whole and complete. He swings his legs—my legs—over the side of the bed and stands.
He walks to his closet and pulls out his clothes. A pair of worn boxer briefs, which he steps into. They conform perfectly. A pair of his favorite jeans. The denim simply fits, the waistband sitting low on my hips, the fabric magically accommodating the fuller curve of my backside. A plain white crewneck sweatshirt goes on next. It settles over my chest, the soft cotton draping without pulling. He runs a hand through his own hair and gives a satisfied grunt. The sound is his, that rough, gravelly noise from his own mouth.
In the kitchen, he makes coffee. He moves with his own familiar, slightly slouched confidence. To any outside eye, he is just Tyler. A guy in his sweatshirt and jeans, maybe looking a little softer than usual, but nothing to remark upon. The magic of the court’s ruling does its work seamlessly; people see Tyler, and their minds simply accept the form as his.
At the gym, he heads for the free weights. He sets up for deadlifts. His form is aggressive, practiced. The sweatshirt rides up slightly as he bends, exposing a sliver of my lower back.
"Tyler! Sup, man?"
It’s Mike. He claps Tyler on the shoulder, his gaze friendly and utterly normal. He doesn’t stare at the hips in the jeans or the chest under the sweatshirt. He sees his buddy Tyler, working out.
"Mike. Just getting after it," Tyler says, his voice that low, steady rumble.
"Looking strong," Mike says, and he means it. He doesn’t see a woman’s body. He sees Tyler lifting weight. He wanders off after a bit more chat, completely at ease.
Later, in the men’s locker room shower, Tyler strips off his sweatshirt and jeans, hanging them up. He showers in just the boxer briefs, as is his habit. The hot water soaks the thin cotton, making it cling. Men are around him, showering, talking about their weekends. No one stares. No one nudges anyone. One guy even says, "Pass the soap, Ty?" as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to see Tyler’s familiar face above the wet, clinging fabric outlining full breasts and rounded hips. He is just a guy in the shower. Tyler soaps up, washes his short hair, rinses off. He is utterly at home.
He towels off and gets dressed. His phone buzzes. A text from Emma.
Still on for tonight?
He texts back, Yeah. My place? Confirmation comes quickly.
That evening, his apartment is tidy, music playing low. He’s changed into a tight, black Henley and another pair of his perfect jeans. The Henley stretches over my breasts, the buttons at the placket pulling slightly. His face, so familiar and male, is relaxed, handsome.
When Emma arrives, she smiles warmly. "Hey, you." She steps in, giving him a quick hug. Her eyes sweep over him with clear appreciation, but it’s the appreciation of a woman looking at a man she’s attracted to. She sees Tyler. Charming, solid Tyler. The body, the clothes—they’re just part of him. There’s no confusion in her gaze, only interest.
"Hey, Em," he says, and kisses her cheek. Her perfume is sweet, familiar.
They talk easily. He is his direct, confident self. She is flirtatious, touching his arm, laughing at his jokes. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at him. She sees the man she’s had a thing for, for months. There is no puzzle to solve, no contradiction to untangle. The magic holds perfectly.
He kisses her, there in his living room. It’s a deep, confident kiss. Her hands slide up his chest, under the Henley, her palms finding the heavy, soft weight of my breasts. She moans into his mouth, her thumbs circling my nipples.
"Tyler," she breathes, the name full of desire.
He leads her to his bedroom. His bed. He pulls the Henley up and over his head. My breasts fall free, full and heavy. Emma’s gaze is hot, adoring. She pushes him back onto the bed and leans down, her mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard. Her other hand kneads the other breast. He groans, a low, masculine sound of pleasure.
His hands go to his jeans, undoing them, pushing them and the boxer briefs down. He is completely exposed now, his face flushed with arousal above the naked female body.
Emma shifts lower, settling between my legs, her intent clear. She is going to go down on him. On Tyler. Her Tyler.
She looks down, her breath warm on my skin. And then she freezes.
Her eyes, which had been hazy with lust, sharpen. They focus. They see. Not just a body, but the specific details. The thatch of dark curls. The glistening folds. The complete, undeniable absence of any male anatomy. This is not a man’s body. This is…
Ashley’s.
The realization hits her like a physical blow, a silent thunderclap in the quiet room. Her best friend Ashley’s body. The curve of the hips she’s seen in jeans, the birthmark just inside the thigh she’s noticed at the pool. This is Ashley, laid bare beneath Tyler’s head, under Tyler’s command.
A violent, electric thrill shoots through Emma, so intense it steals her breath. Her secret, private attraction—not just to Tyler, but to Ashley too, that simmering, unacknowledged thing she’s pushed down for years—ignites into a roaring flame. Tyler has Ashley. And he has no idea. And he’s offering this to her.
She looks up at his face. His eyes are closed, his head back, waiting for her touch. He is completely oblivious. He thinks she sees him, just him.
A fierce, possessive glee tightens her chest. This is her secret. Hers alone.
She doesn’t pull away. She leans in, her heart hammering. Her mission changes. It’s no longer just about pleasing Tyler. It’s about claiming this, about exploring this impossible, stolen intimacy.
Her tongue finds my opening. It’s slick and ready. And then she pushes.
Not a lick. An entry. A deliberate, broad, stretching penetration. Her tongue spears into me, and the stretch is immediate and profound. My tight inner walls yield, parting around the relentless, wet pressure of her muscle. She feels Ashley’s body open for her, and the knowledge that it is Ashley’s makes the sensation a thousand times more potent. She holds the pressure, stretching the soft passage wide around the width of her tongue, feeling the intimate, hot clasp of her friend around her.
She pulls back and plunges in again, deeper. A raw, guttural sound tears from Tyler’s throat. "Fuck, Emma."
She works her tongue in and out, each penetration a slow, deliberate stretch, fucking Ashley open with her mouth. The wet, sucking sounds are loud. Emma is lost in a dual worship: of Tyler’s blissful ignorance above, and of Ashley’s helpless, stretched body below. The burning fullness she’s creating is her secret triumph.
She pulls back, her lips slick. "I need more of you," she pants, the truth of the statement echoing in her skull. More of Ashley. More of this.
She adds a finger, pressing the tip alongside her tongue at the stretched, slick entrance. The dual pressure is immense. She pushes them in together—the firm, probing digit and the relentless, muscular tongue.
The stretch is catastrophic, sublime. Ashley’s body arches off the bed. Emma scissors her finger slowly inside, stretching the tender, yielding flesh of her best friend even wider, while her tongue curls and presses against it from within. The burning, perfect dilation is a conquest. Tyler is chanting, "Yes, yes, give it to me," his voice a broken, masculine litany.
And Emma is silent, her secret knowledge a fire in her blood. She is stretching Ashley open in Tyler’s bed, under Tyler’s command, witnessed by Tyler’s face. Every deep, penetrating thrust of her tongue and finger is a claim staked on the tight, hot passage of the woman she’s secretly desired, a communion with the soul she knows is trapped within, soothed only by the oblivious, proud calm of the man she loves, who wears his own head on borrowed flesh, and who offers up every soft, stretched, conquered inch of what he has made, never knowing the double gift he has given her. She will never tell. This secret, this perfect, twisted intimacy, is hers forever.
I wake up. Or rather, we do.
The ceiling is unfamiliar for a split second, but then it clicks. The faint, geometric pattern of shadows from the blinds. The smell of old takeout and clean laundry. Tyler’s bedroom. This is his room. His consciousness, a dense, unyielding weight, fills the entire space of our shared awareness. There is no room for me, Ashley, to be anything but a shiver at the edges, a silent observer encased in the amber of his will.
He sits up. The sheets are his—dark gray, practical. They fall away, and he looks down at our body. His head, with his own familiar face—the strong jaw, the stubble, his short, brown hair—turns on a neck that connects to a landscape that is not his. From the collarbones down, it is all me. Soft, full breasts, curved hips, the gentle swell of a belly. He sees only his body. A possession, whole and complete. He swings his legs—my legs—over the side of the bed and stands.
He walks to his closet and pulls out his clothes. A pair of worn boxer briefs, which he steps into. They conform perfectly. A pair of his favorite jeans. The denim simply fits, the waistband sitting low on my hips, the fabric magically accommodating the fuller curve of my backside. A plain white crewneck sweatshirt goes on next. It settles over my chest, the soft cotton draping without pulling. He runs a hand through his own hair and gives a satisfied grunt. The sound is his, that rough, gravelly noise from his own mouth.
In the kitchen, he makes coffee. He moves with his own familiar, slightly slouched confidence. To any outside eye, he is just Tyler. A guy in his sweatshirt and jeans, maybe looking a little softer than usual, but nothing to remark upon. The magic of the court’s ruling does its work seamlessly; people see Tyler, and their minds simply accept the form as his.
At the gym, he heads for the free weights. He sets up for deadlifts. His form is aggressive, practiced. The sweatshirt rides up slightly as he bends, exposing a sliver of my lower back.
"Tyler! Sup, man?"
It’s Mike. He claps Tyler on the shoulder, his gaze friendly and utterly normal. He doesn’t stare at the hips in the jeans or the chest under the sweatshirt. He sees his buddy Tyler, working out.
"Mike. Just getting after it," Tyler says, his voice that low, steady rumble.
"Looking strong," Mike says, and he means it. He doesn’t see a woman’s body. He sees Tyler lifting weight. He wanders off after a bit more chat, completely at ease.
Later, in the men’s locker room shower, Tyler strips off his sweatshirt and jeans, hanging them up. He showers in just the boxer briefs, as is his habit. The hot water soaks the thin cotton, making it cling. Men are around him, showering, talking about their weekends. No one stares. No one nudges anyone. One guy even says, "Pass the soap, Ty?" as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to see Tyler’s familiar face above the wet, clinging fabric outlining full breasts and rounded hips. He is just a guy in the shower. Tyler soaps up, washes his short hair, rinses off. He is utterly at home.
He towels off and gets dressed. His phone buzzes. A text from Emma.
Still on for tonight?
He texts back, Yeah. My place? Confirmation comes quickly.
That evening, his apartment is tidy, music playing low. He’s changed into a tight, black Henley and another pair of his perfect jeans. The Henley stretches over my breasts, the buttons at the placket pulling slightly. His face, so familiar and male, is relaxed, handsome.
When Emma arrives, she smiles warmly. "Hey, you." She steps in, giving him a quick hug. Her eyes sweep over him with clear appreciation, but it’s the appreciation of a woman looking at a man she’s attracted to. She sees Tyler. Charming, solid Tyler. The body, the clothes—they’re just part of him. There’s no confusion in her gaze, only interest.
"Hey, Em," he says, and kisses her cheek. Her perfume is sweet, familiar.
They talk easily. He is his direct, confident self. She is flirtatious, touching his arm, laughing at his jokes. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at him. She sees the man she’s had a thing for, for months. There is no puzzle to solve, no contradiction to untangle. The magic holds perfectly.
He kisses her, there in his living room. It’s a deep, confident kiss. Her hands slide up his chest, under the Henley, her palms finding the heavy, soft weight of my breasts. She moans into his mouth, her thumbs circling my nipples.
"Tyler," she breathes, the name full of desire.
He leads her to his bedroom. His bed. He pulls the Henley up and over his head. My breasts fall free, full and heavy. Emma’s gaze is hot, adoring. She pushes him back onto the bed and leans down, her mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard. Her other hand kneads the other breast. He groans, a low, masculine sound of pleasure.
His hands go to his jeans, undoing them, pushing them and the boxer briefs down. He is completely exposed now, his face flushed with arousal above the naked female body.
Emma shifts lower, settling between my legs, her intent clear. She is going to go down on him. On Tyler. Her Tyler.
She looks down, her breath warm on my skin. And then she freezes.
Her eyes, which had been hazy with lust, sharpen. They focus. They see. Not just a body, but the specific details. The thatch of dark curls. The glistening folds. The complete, undeniable absence of any male anatomy. This is not a man’s body. This is…
Ashley’s.
The realization hits her like a physical blow, a silent thunderclap in the quiet room. Her best friend Ashley’s body. The curve of the hips she’s seen in jeans, the birthmark just inside the thigh she’s noticed at the pool. This is Ashley, laid bare beneath Tyler’s head, under Tyler’s command.
A violent, electric thrill shoots through Emma, so intense it steals her breath. Her secret, private attraction—not just to Tyler, but to Ashley too, that simmering, unacknowledged thing she’s pushed down for years—ignites into a roaring flame. Tyler has Ashley. And he has no idea. And he’s offering this to her.
She looks up at his face. His eyes are closed, his head back, waiting for her touch. He is completely oblivious. He thinks she sees him, just him.
A fierce, possessive glee tightens her chest. This is her secret. Hers alone.
She doesn’t pull away. She leans in, her heart hammering. Her mission changes. It’s no longer just about pleasing Tyler. It’s about claiming this, about exploring this impossible, stolen intimacy.
Her tongue finds my opening. It’s slick and ready. And then she pushes.
Not a lick. An entry. A deliberate, broad, stretching penetration. Her tongue spears into me, and the stretch is immediate and profound. My tight inner walls yield, parting around the relentless, wet pressure of her muscle. She feels Ashley’s body open for her, and the knowledge that it is Ashley’s makes the sensation a thousand times more potent. She holds the pressure, stretching the soft passage wide around the width of her tongue, feeling the intimate, hot clasp of her friend around her.
She pulls back and plunges in again, deeper. A raw, guttural sound tears from Tyler’s throat. "Fuck, Emma."
She works her tongue in and out, each penetration a slow, deliberate stretch, fucking Ashley open with her mouth. The wet, sucking sounds are loud. Emma is lost in a dual worship: of Tyler’s blissful ignorance above, and of Ashley’s helpless, stretched body below. The burning fullness she’s creating is her secret triumph.
She pulls back, her lips slick. "I need more of you," she pants, the truth of the statement echoing in her skull. More of Ashley. More of this.
She adds a finger, pressing the tip alongside her tongue at the stretched, slick entrance. The dual pressure is immense. She pushes them in together—the firm, probing digit and the relentless, muscular tongue.
The stretch is catastrophic, sublime. Ashley’s body arches off the bed. Emma scissors her finger slowly inside, stretching the tender, yielding flesh of her best friend even wider, while her tongue curls and presses against it from within. The burning, perfect dilation is a conquest. Tyler is chanting, "Yes, yes, give it to me," his voice a broken, masculine litany.
And Emma is silent, her secret knowledge a fire in her blood. She is stretching Ashley open in Tyler’s bed, under Tyler’s command, witnessed by Tyler’s face. Every deep, penetrating thrust of her tongue and finger is a claim staked on the tight, hot passage of the woman she’s secretly desired, a communion with the soul she knows is trapped within, soothed only by the oblivious, proud calm of the man she loves, who wears his own head on borrowed flesh, and who offers up every soft, stretched, conquered inch of what he has made, never knowing the double gift he has given her. She will never tell. This secret, this perfect, twisted intimacy, is hers forever.
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Vega's BEAUTIFUL face is destroyed by Chun Li so he replaces it.
A reimagining of 'Palette Swap' by Team Lady Valiant & FarhadTG
The final kick landed with a sickening crack. My heel connected squarely with Vega's porcelain mask, shattering it—and the bone beneath—with a sound like splintering china. He went down hard, clutching his ruined face, blood seeping between his perfect fingers. For a moment, there was only his ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.
Then he started to laugh.
"Beautiful... so beautiful..." he gurgled through the wreckage of his jaw, his once-perfect features now a jigsaw puzzle of gore and ceramic shards. His free hand fumbled at his belt, producing a small device I recognized from Bison's labs. "But beauty... can be transferred."
"No—!" I lunged forward, but too late. He pressed the trigger.
The world exploded in white light and static. I felt myself falling, spinning, my consciousness ripping away from my body like silk tearing. When I could see again, I was looking up at the ceiling from the floor, my perspective completely wrong. Vega's hands—my hands now—rose into view. Long-fingered and pale. I touched my face and felt bandages, surgical tape, the swollen flesh beneath.
Across from me, Vega—now wearing my body—stood staring down at itself with wide, hungry eyes. He immediately grabbed the neckline of my qipao top and tore it open, exposing the breasts I'd known my whole life as if seeing them for the first time. "Exquisite," he breathed in my voice, a sound so wrong it made my stomach turn. He cupped them, his fingers—my fingers once—squeezing the weight of them with obscene fascination.
"Three days later."
The words felt surreal to even think. Three days of surgery, of recovery, of Vega preening and parading in my skin while I lay in his bed, trapped in his broken body. I shifted against silk sheets that smelled of roses and blood, trying to find a position that didn't send agony lancing through Vega's four fractured ribs—my fractured ribs now.
The bedroom door opened. Vega entered—not the Vega I'd fought, but the Vega who now wore my face and form. He'd styled my hair into his signature braid, the dark ropes hanging over one shoulder. My breasts—his breasts now—were completely exposed, moving with a bounce and weight I intimately understood but had never witnessed from this angle. His nipples, my nipples once, were hard on my former breasts and already healed into them was a matching version of Vega's serpent tattoo, coiling around his left breast.
He wore the ceremonial trousers of a matador in murrey and yellow, so tight they might have been painted on. Every curve of what had been my hips, my ass, my thighs—his now—was outlined in devastating detail. The white leggings hugged his calves, the red sash cinched his waist, and the loafers clicked softly on the marble floor. There was no shirt, no vest, no modesty whatsoever.
"How are we feeling today, my beautiful monster?" he purred in my voice, running his hands down his bare torso, fingers tracing the new tattoo. "I've been breaking in your body. The flexibility is... inspiring."
I pushed myself up on Vega's arms—my arms now—so much stronger than my own had been, but currently useless thanks to the ribs. I wore the masculine version of my Street Fighter Alpha outfit: an embroidered vest that strained across his broad shoulders, a navy unitard that did nothing to hide the evidence of my new anatomy, athletic shoes, and studded wristbands. My face was still wrapped in bandages, Napoleon's guise hiding the damage I'd inflicted.
"You're a psychopath," I rasped, his voice grating in my throat.
"I'm an artist," he corrected, striking a pose that made his—my breasts once—lift and press together. "And I've finally achieved my masterpiece. The face I was always meant to have, the body I've coveted for years. But..." He frowned, touching his bandaged visage on my body. "I still need to fix this. Your brutality marred perfection."
Despite everything, despite the pain and violation, I felt a strange heat pooling in my new groin as I watched him touch what had been my face. My old body was undeniably beautiful, even under his control. And his body... I flexed Vega's powerful thighs—my thighs now—felt the weight of different muscles, the tightness of the unitard against an erection I hadn't asked for.
His eyes—my eyes once—caught the movement. "Ah, I see my husband is adjusting. Good." He began to pace, each step deliberate, making my former hips sway. "I've been thinking, my love. About our arrangement. You gave me this gift, this perfect vessel. And I realized something." He stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on what had been my hips. "I'm in love. With you. With the fighter who broke me, who made this possible."
My breath caught. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." He smiled with my lips, then reached down and began to touch himself through the impossibly tight matador trousers. "But watch how your former body responds to the truth." One hand squeezed his breast—the weight of it filling his palm perfectly—while the other rubbed slow circles between his legs. "I've been touching myself constantly, wife. Learning every secret you kept hidden. Did you know you could get this wet?"
He turned, presenting the profile of my former body, and I watched in horrified fascination as his fingers worked faster. The trousers were so tight I could see the outline of his hand, the way the fabric pulled and strained. He was getting wet—I could smell it, that familiar scent from a foreign source, and the dark patch spreading across the murrey fabric.
"Vega, stop—" I protested, but my new voice was weak.
"Why? This is as much yours as mine now." He approached the bed, leaning over my new crotch, my former breasts—his breasts now—swaying. "Let me show you what I've learned as your wife."
His hands moved to my unitard, and before I could protest, he tore the reinforced fabric between my legs with shocking ease. Vega's cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I gasped at the sensation—so different, so urgent.
"Beautiful," he whispered, taking it in my former hands. "Just like the rest of your husband."
Then he leaned forward and pressed my erection between his breasts—the breasts I'd once soaped in the shower, the breasts that had fit into specific sports bras, the breasts that were now his to wield as mother to my fatherhood. The sensation was overwhelming. He squeezed them together, creating a channel of soft, yielding flesh, and began to move.
"Watch," he commanded in my voice, looking down at me with my own dark eyes—his eyes now. "Watch what you made of your wife."
He worked faster, the gold rings in his nipples glinting, his braid swinging with each motion. The pleasure built in this unfamiliar body, coiling tighter and tighter. When he lowered his mouth to the tip and took me—Vega—between my own lips—his lips now—I couldn't hold back.
The orgasm ripped through me, a different kind of explosion than any kick or punch. He swallowed, his throat working in a way I'd never felt, then released me with a satisfied smile. Vega's cock—my cock now—still twitched, half-hard and sensitive.
"There," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of my former hand. "Now we understand each other, husband."
I was panting, each breath sending pain through Vega's ribs—my ribs now. "More," I managed, hips still twitching with aftershocks. "I want..."
"Shhh." He leaned close, my former breasts—his breasts now—pressing against the vest covering his old chest. "Your body is still healing. I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery on your face, you know. These ribs need time." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot against skin that was his but now mine: "We have all the time in the world, my love. When you're whole again, your wife will take you so much further."
He kissed the bandages covering Vega's ruined features—my ruined features now—then rose from the bed, adjusting his trousers with a satisfied smile. My body left the room with his swagger, the door clicking shut behind him.
I collapsed back against the pillows, remembering as Vega removed his breasts from my half-hard penis, the wetness left behind cooling in the air. My mind reeled with the obscene intimacy of what we'd just done. Three days in, and I was already lost, already thinking of this monster in my skin as "my wife." How many more until I didn't want to find my way back?
A reimagining of 'Palette Swap' by Team Lady Valiant & FarhadTG
The final kick landed with a sickening crack. My heel connected squarely with Vega's porcelain mask, shattering it—and the bone beneath—with a sound like splintering china. He went down hard, clutching his ruined face, blood seeping between his perfect fingers. For a moment, there was only his ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.
Then he started to laugh.
"Beautiful... so beautiful..." he gurgled through the wreckage of his jaw, his once-perfect features now a jigsaw puzzle of gore and ceramic shards. His free hand fumbled at his belt, producing a small device I recognized from Bison's labs. "But beauty... can be transferred."
"No—!" I lunged forward, but too late. He pressed the trigger.
The world exploded in white light and static. I felt myself falling, spinning, my consciousness ripping away from my body like silk tearing. When I could see again, I was looking up at the ceiling from the floor, my perspective completely wrong. Vega's hands—my hands now—rose into view. Long-fingered and pale. I touched my face and felt bandages, surgical tape, the swollen flesh beneath.
Across from me, Vega—now wearing my body—stood staring down at itself with wide, hungry eyes. He immediately grabbed the neckline of my qipao top and tore it open, exposing the breasts I'd known my whole life as if seeing them for the first time. "Exquisite," he breathed in my voice, a sound so wrong it made my stomach turn. He cupped them, his fingers—my fingers once—squeezing the weight of them with obscene fascination.
"Three days later."
The words felt surreal to even think. Three days of surgery, of recovery, of Vega preening and parading in my skin while I lay in his bed, trapped in his broken body. I shifted against silk sheets that smelled of roses and blood, trying to find a position that didn't send agony lancing through Vega's four fractured ribs—my fractured ribs now.
The bedroom door opened. Vega entered—not the Vega I'd fought, but the Vega who now wore my face and form. He'd styled my hair into his signature braid, the dark ropes hanging over one shoulder. My breasts—his breasts now—were completely exposed, moving with a bounce and weight I intimately understood but had never witnessed from this angle. His nipples, my nipples once, were hard on my former breasts and already healed into them was a matching version of Vega's serpent tattoo, coiling around his left breast.
He wore the ceremonial trousers of a matador in murrey and yellow, so tight they might have been painted on. Every curve of what had been my hips, my ass, my thighs—his now—was outlined in devastating detail. The white leggings hugged his calves, the red sash cinched his waist, and the loafers clicked softly on the marble floor. There was no shirt, no vest, no modesty whatsoever.
"How are we feeling today, my beautiful monster?" he purred in my voice, running his hands down his bare torso, fingers tracing the new tattoo. "I've been breaking in your body. The flexibility is... inspiring."
I pushed myself up on Vega's arms—my arms now—so much stronger than my own had been, but currently useless thanks to the ribs. I wore the masculine version of my Street Fighter Alpha outfit: an embroidered vest that strained across his broad shoulders, a navy unitard that did nothing to hide the evidence of my new anatomy, athletic shoes, and studded wristbands. My face was still wrapped in bandages, Napoleon's guise hiding the damage I'd inflicted.
"You're a psychopath," I rasped, his voice grating in my throat.
"I'm an artist," he corrected, striking a pose that made his—my breasts once—lift and press together. "And I've finally achieved my masterpiece. The face I was always meant to have, the body I've coveted for years. But..." He frowned, touching his bandaged visage on my body. "I still need to fix this. Your brutality marred perfection."
Despite everything, despite the pain and violation, I felt a strange heat pooling in my new groin as I watched him touch what had been my face. My old body was undeniably beautiful, even under his control. And his body... I flexed Vega's powerful thighs—my thighs now—felt the weight of different muscles, the tightness of the unitard against an erection I hadn't asked for.
His eyes—my eyes once—caught the movement. "Ah, I see my husband is adjusting. Good." He began to pace, each step deliberate, making my former hips sway. "I've been thinking, my love. About our arrangement. You gave me this gift, this perfect vessel. And I realized something." He stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on what had been my hips. "I'm in love. With you. With the fighter who broke me, who made this possible."
My breath caught. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." He smiled with my lips, then reached down and began to touch himself through the impossibly tight matador trousers. "But watch how your former body responds to the truth." One hand squeezed his breast—the weight of it filling his palm perfectly—while the other rubbed slow circles between his legs. "I've been touching myself constantly, wife. Learning every secret you kept hidden. Did you know you could get this wet?"
He turned, presenting the profile of my former body, and I watched in horrified fascination as his fingers worked faster. The trousers were so tight I could see the outline of his hand, the way the fabric pulled and strained. He was getting wet—I could smell it, that familiar scent from a foreign source, and the dark patch spreading across the murrey fabric.
"Vega, stop—" I protested, but my new voice was weak.
"Why? This is as much yours as mine now." He approached the bed, leaning over my new crotch, my former breasts—his breasts now—swaying. "Let me show you what I've learned as your wife."
His hands moved to my unitard, and before I could protest, he tore the reinforced fabric between my legs with shocking ease. Vega's cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I gasped at the sensation—so different, so urgent.
"Beautiful," he whispered, taking it in my former hands. "Just like the rest of your husband."
Then he leaned forward and pressed my erection between his breasts—the breasts I'd once soaped in the shower, the breasts that had fit into specific sports bras, the breasts that were now his to wield as mother to my fatherhood. The sensation was overwhelming. He squeezed them together, creating a channel of soft, yielding flesh, and began to move.
"Watch," he commanded in my voice, looking down at me with my own dark eyes—his eyes now. "Watch what you made of your wife."
He worked faster, the gold rings in his nipples glinting, his braid swinging with each motion. The pleasure built in this unfamiliar body, coiling tighter and tighter. When he lowered his mouth to the tip and took me—Vega—between my own lips—his lips now—I couldn't hold back.
The orgasm ripped through me, a different kind of explosion than any kick or punch. He swallowed, his throat working in a way I'd never felt, then released me with a satisfied smile. Vega's cock—my cock now—still twitched, half-hard and sensitive.
"There," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of my former hand. "Now we understand each other, husband."
I was panting, each breath sending pain through Vega's ribs—my ribs now. "More," I managed, hips still twitching with aftershocks. "I want..."
"Shhh." He leaned close, my former breasts—his breasts now—pressing against the vest covering his old chest. "Your body is still healing. I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery on your face, you know. These ribs need time." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot against skin that was his but now mine: "We have all the time in the world, my love. When you're whole again, your wife will take you so much further."
He kissed the bandages covering Vega's ruined features—my ruined features now—then rose from the bed, adjusting his trousers with a satisfied smile. My body left the room with his swagger, the door clicking shut behind him.
I collapsed back against the pillows, remembering as Vega removed his breasts from my half-hard penis, the wetness left behind cooling in the air. My mind reeled with the obscene intimacy of what we'd just done. Three days in, and I was already lost, already thinking of this monster in my skin as "my wife." How many more until I didn't want to find my way back?
body swap
+2 more
3
4.0K
0
0
A witch is invited to a college party and offers a special game of Beer Pong. It is a very special version of hooking up.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
possession
+7 more
6
8.5K
1
1
A man has intimate encounters with a Genie
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
magic
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1
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1
Stacey and her team are chosen to fight an alien invasion
It all started during what should’ve been just another grueling practice session under the sweltering Texas sun. Sweat stung my eyes, and my muscles screamed in protest with every high kick and flip. I was Stacey Robinson, head cheerleader of the Northwood Wildcats, and we were running the pyramid sequence for what felt like the hundredth time.
That’s when the sky tore open.
Not with a crack of thunder, but with a soft, shimmering hum. A light, gentle as a sunbeam, descended, and out stepped a figure that looked less like an alien invader and more like a yoga instructor from a high-end spa. He was tall, slender, with skin that shimmered like mother-of-pearl and eyes the color of a calm sea. He introduced himself as Nagai, an emissary from a distant star.
“Stacey Robinson,” he said, his voice like a melody. “Your world is in grave, albeit peculiar, danger.”
We all just stared, too shocked to even drop our pom-poms.
He explained that an ancient cosmic ruler, a being of immense vanity and twisted ideals, was approaching Earth. Her name was Queen Adiposa, and her goal was to impose her own standard of beauty upon the universe: to make fat not just acceptable, but the only form of beauty, eradicating all others. Her method? A wave of transformative energy, preceded by an army of minions who looked… well, like unnaturally enthusiastic Planet Fitness trainers in their purple and yellow uniforms, forever chanting about “no judgement.”
“Your spirit, your power, your unity,” Nagai said, his gaze sweeping over my team—Chloe, Hannah, Zoe, Maya, and Brianna. “You six are the only ones who can stop her. You will become my champions. The Supersonic Pussy Rangers.”
We glanced at each other. The name was ridiculous. The situation was insane. But the look in Nagai’s eyes was dead serious.
A wave of his hand, and a flash of light enveloped us. I felt a surge of power, a buzzing energy that settled deep in my core. When the light faded, we were all clad in skintight suits. Mine was a vibrant, commanding red. Chloe got pink, Hannah yellow, Zoe a deep purple, and Maya a cool aqua. And then there was Brianna.
Brianna, already the bustiest of us by a mile, was… naked. But not just naked. Her suit was a shimmering, barely-there layer of light that did nothing to conceal her incredible figure. Nagai hadn’t been kidding about the name. Her breasts were so magnificently large, so breathtakingly full, they truly looked like they could swallow a person’s head whole.
“Your power will manifest when you face your enemy,” Nagai said, just as the ground shook.
Our first monster arrived. It was a hulking beast made of what looked like lumpy, pink flesh, with a single massive eye and a microphone headset. It was flanked by a dozen of those smiling, clapping Planet Fitness minions. “Let’s get this party started! No lunkheads, just gains!” one of them chirped.
We fought. It was chaos. We moved with a speed and strength we never knew we had, our colored suits leaving streaks of light in the air. We kicked and punched, our movements synchronized from years of practice, now amplified into something superhuman. We finally took the monster down with a combined energy blast.
But it wasn’t over. The fallen monster began to glow, its body reassembling and swelling, growing taller and taller until it loomed over the school, a five-story tall abomination of jiggling fat and distorted fitness enthusiasm.
“Now, Stacey!” Nagai’s voice echoed in my mind. “It is time!”
A belt of gleaming silver and red, engraved with strange symbols, appeared in his hands. He tossed it to me. I caught it, and without thinking, I slapped it around my waist. A click, a hum, and then… silence.
The world froze. The monster was a statue mid-roar. The minions were frozen in their mindless clapping. My team hovered in the air around me, their eyes glazed over, caught in Nagai’s powerful stasis.
I was lifted into the air. Chloe (Pink) and Zoe (Purple) floated toward me in a dreamlike daze. My legs, guided by an unseen force, slipped into their open mouths. I felt no resistance, only a warm, incredible pressure as my feet slid down, down, coming to rest deep within their stomachs. It was the strangest, most intimate sensation I’d ever felt.
Next, Hannah (Yellow) and Maya (Aqua) drifted over. My arms entered them, sinking into their bodies through their backsides up to just below my elbows. Their legs unwound themselves and wrapped tightly around my torso, locking into place. I could feel the muscles in their thighs tense against my sides.
Finally, Brianna—Naked—floated toward my chest. She pressed against me, her incredible softness moulding to my form. She wrapped her arms and legs around my own, locking us together, and then let her head fall forward, completely vanishing between the immense, soft pillows of her own breasts, pressed firmly against my chest.
I dropped back to the ground, the impact jolting through me. I could feel Brianna’s body on my front, her breasts bouncing with the landing. I tentatively tried to move.
I thought, step forward.
The movement came, but it wasn’t just my leg. It was Chloe’s and then Zoe’s legs moving in perfect unison with me, their bodies moving as extensions of my own. I was controlling them. I was them. I lifted my arms, and saw Hannah and Maya’s arms mirror the movement perfectly.
“This is your Megazord form,” Nagai’s voice explained, sound returning to my private bubble of time. “You are the core. You command their bodies as your own limbs. They will remember none of this. To release them, you must defeat the enemy. When it is weakened, you must yell ‘FINISHER!’.”
I practiced. A step became a mighty stomp from four powerful legs. A punch became a devastating blow from four clenched fists. The power was dizzying. I felt the distinct sensations from each of my teammates—the sleek strength of Chloe, the flexible power of Zoe, the explosive energy of Hannah, the steady grace of Maya, and the overwhelming, soft warmth of Brianna pressed against me.
“Now, Stacey,” Nagai said. “Finish it.”
Time slammed back into motion with a roar.
The giant monster swung a fist the size of a car at me. I—we—blocked it with a forearm, the impact resonating through our combined bodies. We fought, a giantess of flesh and power against a monster of fat. We were faster, stronger, unified. With a series of powerful blows, we weakened it, until it staggered, dizzy and disoriented.
Now.
I took a deep breath, the motion causing Brianna’s chest to rise and fall against mine.
“FINISHER!” I yelled, my voice echoing with the combined power of six girls.
We leaped, a phenomenal jump that carried our combined form high into the air. We twisted, aiming ourselves downward. The monster looked up, its single eye wide with confusion.
We came down on its head, not on its body.
We landed perfectly, with the soft, warm heart of our formation—Brianna—coming to rest directly over the monster’s head. It let out a muffled, gurgled roar, its head completely smothered, suffocated between the immense, world-encompassing softness of her vagina. It struggled for a moment, then fell still, beginning to dissolve into harmless pink mist.
The belt on my waist clicked. The world dissolved in another flash of light, and I was standing alone, back in my red ranger suit. My team stood around me, blinking, stretching.
“Whoa, did we do it?” Chloe asked, looking at the fading pink mist. “I blacked out for a second there. What a rush!”
They remembered nothing. But I remembered everything. The feeling of their bodies as my own. The incredible, intimate power.
And I knew, with a thrilling certainty that shot right through me, that this was only the beginning. Queen Adiposa would send more monsters. And each time, we would combine. Each time, I would feel that connection, that control.
And each time, I would make my teammates more… mine.
It all started during what should’ve been just another grueling practice session under the sweltering Texas sun. Sweat stung my eyes, and my muscles screamed in protest with every high kick and flip. I was Stacey Robinson, head cheerleader of the Northwood Wildcats, and we were running the pyramid sequence for what felt like the hundredth time.
That’s when the sky tore open.
Not with a crack of thunder, but with a soft, shimmering hum. A light, gentle as a sunbeam, descended, and out stepped a figure that looked less like an alien invader and more like a yoga instructor from a high-end spa. He was tall, slender, with skin that shimmered like mother-of-pearl and eyes the color of a calm sea. He introduced himself as Nagai, an emissary from a distant star.
“Stacey Robinson,” he said, his voice like a melody. “Your world is in grave, albeit peculiar, danger.”
We all just stared, too shocked to even drop our pom-poms.
He explained that an ancient cosmic ruler, a being of immense vanity and twisted ideals, was approaching Earth. Her name was Queen Adiposa, and her goal was to impose her own standard of beauty upon the universe: to make fat not just acceptable, but the only form of beauty, eradicating all others. Her method? A wave of transformative energy, preceded by an army of minions who looked… well, like unnaturally enthusiastic Planet Fitness trainers in their purple and yellow uniforms, forever chanting about “no judgement.”
“Your spirit, your power, your unity,” Nagai said, his gaze sweeping over my team—Chloe, Hannah, Zoe, Maya, and Brianna. “You six are the only ones who can stop her. You will become my champions. The Supersonic Pussy Rangers.”
We glanced at each other. The name was ridiculous. The situation was insane. But the look in Nagai’s eyes was dead serious.
A wave of his hand, and a flash of light enveloped us. I felt a surge of power, a buzzing energy that settled deep in my core. When the light faded, we were all clad in skintight suits. Mine was a vibrant, commanding red. Chloe got pink, Hannah yellow, Zoe a deep purple, and Maya a cool aqua. And then there was Brianna.
Brianna, already the bustiest of us by a mile, was… naked. But not just naked. Her suit was a shimmering, barely-there layer of light that did nothing to conceal her incredible figure. Nagai hadn’t been kidding about the name. Her breasts were so magnificently large, so breathtakingly full, they truly looked like they could swallow a person’s head whole.
“Your power will manifest when you face your enemy,” Nagai said, just as the ground shook.
Our first monster arrived. It was a hulking beast made of what looked like lumpy, pink flesh, with a single massive eye and a microphone headset. It was flanked by a dozen of those smiling, clapping Planet Fitness minions. “Let’s get this party started! No lunkheads, just gains!” one of them chirped.
We fought. It was chaos. We moved with a speed and strength we never knew we had, our colored suits leaving streaks of light in the air. We kicked and punched, our movements synchronized from years of practice, now amplified into something superhuman. We finally took the monster down with a combined energy blast.
But it wasn’t over. The fallen monster began to glow, its body reassembling and swelling, growing taller and taller until it loomed over the school, a five-story tall abomination of jiggling fat and distorted fitness enthusiasm.
“Now, Stacey!” Nagai’s voice echoed in my mind. “It is time!”
A belt of gleaming silver and red, engraved with strange symbols, appeared in his hands. He tossed it to me. I caught it, and without thinking, I slapped it around my waist. A click, a hum, and then… silence.
The world froze. The monster was a statue mid-roar. The minions were frozen in their mindless clapping. My team hovered in the air around me, their eyes glazed over, caught in Nagai’s powerful stasis.
I was lifted into the air. Chloe (Pink) and Zoe (Purple) floated toward me in a dreamlike daze. My legs, guided by an unseen force, slipped into their open mouths. I felt no resistance, only a warm, incredible pressure as my feet slid down, down, coming to rest deep within their stomachs. It was the strangest, most intimate sensation I’d ever felt.
Next, Hannah (Yellow) and Maya (Aqua) drifted over. My arms entered them, sinking into their bodies through their backsides up to just below my elbows. Their legs unwound themselves and wrapped tightly around my torso, locking into place. I could feel the muscles in their thighs tense against my sides.
Finally, Brianna—Naked—floated toward my chest. She pressed against me, her incredible softness moulding to my form. She wrapped her arms and legs around my own, locking us together, and then let her head fall forward, completely vanishing between the immense, soft pillows of her own breasts, pressed firmly against my chest.
I dropped back to the ground, the impact jolting through me. I could feel Brianna’s body on my front, her breasts bouncing with the landing. I tentatively tried to move.
I thought, step forward.
The movement came, but it wasn’t just my leg. It was Chloe’s and then Zoe’s legs moving in perfect unison with me, their bodies moving as extensions of my own. I was controlling them. I was them. I lifted my arms, and saw Hannah and Maya’s arms mirror the movement perfectly.
“This is your Megazord form,” Nagai’s voice explained, sound returning to my private bubble of time. “You are the core. You command their bodies as your own limbs. They will remember none of this. To release them, you must defeat the enemy. When it is weakened, you must yell ‘FINISHER!’.”
I practiced. A step became a mighty stomp from four powerful legs. A punch became a devastating blow from four clenched fists. The power was dizzying. I felt the distinct sensations from each of my teammates—the sleek strength of Chloe, the flexible power of Zoe, the explosive energy of Hannah, the steady grace of Maya, and the overwhelming, soft warmth of Brianna pressed against me.
“Now, Stacey,” Nagai said. “Finish it.”
Time slammed back into motion with a roar.
The giant monster swung a fist the size of a car at me. I—we—blocked it with a forearm, the impact resonating through our combined bodies. We fought, a giantess of flesh and power against a monster of fat. We were faster, stronger, unified. With a series of powerful blows, we weakened it, until it staggered, dizzy and disoriented.
Now.
I took a deep breath, the motion causing Brianna’s chest to rise and fall against mine.
“FINISHER!” I yelled, my voice echoing with the combined power of six girls.
We leaped, a phenomenal jump that carried our combined form high into the air. We twisted, aiming ourselves downward. The monster looked up, its single eye wide with confusion.
We came down on its head, not on its body.
We landed perfectly, with the soft, warm heart of our formation—Brianna—coming to rest directly over the monster’s head. It let out a muffled, gurgled roar, its head completely smothered, suffocated between the immense, world-encompassing softness of her vagina. It struggled for a moment, then fell still, beginning to dissolve into harmless pink mist.
The belt on my waist clicked. The world dissolved in another flash of light, and I was standing alone, back in my red ranger suit. My team stood around me, blinking, stretching.
“Whoa, did we do it?” Chloe asked, looking at the fading pink mist. “I blacked out for a second there. What a rush!”
They remembered nothing. But I remembered everything. The feeling of their bodies as my own. The incredible, intimate power.
And I knew, with a thrilling certainty that shot right through me, that this was only the beginning. Queen Adiposa would send more monsters. And each time, we would combine. Each time, I would feel that connection, that control.
And each time, I would make my teammates more… mine.
mind control
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17
15.8K
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The story of how Trevor gained his powers.
Naomi tried her hardest not to let out a sigh of exasperation as Trevor continued on his little diatribe about some superheroes Naomi could not care less about. A few more weeks of this, Noami thought, glancing at the clock and getting frustrated at how slowly time seemed to be moving, can’t believe I agreed to this bet, I need to find something Olivia could do for me that’ll make all this worth it.
Trevor was still talking, not having noticed Naomi had checked out of the conversation. Physically, he was alright looking, average height, average weight, his face had some acne scars, but was otherwise fine, he didn’t smell which was great. No, that wasn’t the issue with him, the real issue was how he wouldn’t shut up and how he seemed to leer at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. Of course, it didn’t help that the thing he wouldn’t shut up about is how much he likes looking at women’s bodies.
At least he managed to keep his hands to himself, most of the time anyway, unfortunately, now wasn’t one of those times. As he was talking, he started scootching closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Naomi wanted to push him away, tell him to keep his hands to himself, but decided against it. She didn’t want him to break up with her before the month was over, now that would be one of the most embarrassing things that would have ever happened to her. That would also render the dare moot and Olivia would have won. As if a dweeb like him would have the backbone to break up with me, Naomi thought, smiling slightly, if he gets sad, a little bit of skin should do the trick and make him happy again.
Trevor noticed her smile and grinned, “Ah, so you think Supergirl is good too! Nice! You know, I think you’d make a great Supergirl!”
Naomi blinked, realizing he must think she was reacting to him, “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Well for one, you already look a bit like her,” he started counting, using his fingers, “you’re strong, determined, don’t take any crap from anyone, and you’re beautiful!”
Is he actually- Naomi smiled despite herself, she had no idea what he was talking about, but she was able to figure out that he was being earnest and, from what she could gather, Trevor does really enjoy Supergirl and if he thought she was like her, then who was she to deny such a compliment?
“Oh!” Trevor began, looking at the clock, “Sorry, I realize I’ve been talking for about half an hour now,” he blushed and scratched the back of his head, “Heh, sorry, sorry. How was your day?”
Naomi smiled, “I’ve been alright. Olivia and Wren and I have been talking a bit. Olivia’s been laughing lately, something about Victoria nearly embarrassing herself during the last cheer practice. I don’t know.”
Trevor nodded, “Is your mom and sister alright? I noticed they both seem a little down lately.”
Naomi sighed, “Oh, right. I haven’t told you about this because I didn’t want to ruin the mood,” that was a big lie, she hadn’t told him because she hardly cared herself, “my Great Uncle Ian passed away a few weeks ago and mom and Summerlyn have been going to his house and moving things in storage,” Naomi shrugged, “they asked dad and some of my other cousins to help bring some stuff here as well. I think everything’s in the basement.”
“Oh, I’m… really sorry, what happened to him?”
Naomi waved a hand, “He was old, and had some health problems before, something about a bad heart.”
“How’s your family taking it?”
I guess we’re talking about this now, Naomi thought, better than hearing him blather on about superheroes I don’t care about, much better than hearing him talk about other girls. “Mom’s taking it the hardest, she’s been almost inconsolable lately. Uncle Ian helped raise her since she was younger and she was there with him when he died.”
Trevor was silent for a moment before asking, “How are you taking it?”
Naomi shrugged, “Barely knew the guy, he had some cool stuff in his house though, wanna come see?”
“Oh, is that alright?”
“Should be,” Naomi replied, “just be careful not to break anything.”
Naomi helped him off her bed and together the two of them left her room and went to the basement. Her parents weren’t here right now, her dad was still at work, and her mom was probably at some cousin’s house making arrangements for Uncle Ian’s funeral. That only left herself and Summerlyn, who was probably in her room studying or something. Still, she’d rather not Summerlyn find out she was down here and tell her mom, who’d know when she’d hear the end of it, so she pressed a finger to her lips at Trevor before opening the door to her basement.
The basement wasn’t much, it was a bit larger than the downstairs living room and normally was used just to store the washer and dryer. Now, however, there were several pieces of furniture belonging to Uncle Ian stored down here, along with several boxes containing more of Uncle Ian’s stuff.
None of this stuff was particularly interesting to Naomi, there was a grandfather clock, thankfully it was broken, along with a vanity desk, a clothes drawer, and a rocking chair. The vanity desk held her interest for a moment, until Naomi realized it was too big for her room and was a bit too antique for her tastes. She glanced over at Trevor who took all of this in with a look of wonder on his face. I’m glad someone’s enjoying this, hopefully this will stop you from going on and on about superheroes.
“Aw, the clock doesn’t work?” Trevor asked.
Naomi shook her head, “According to mom, it stopped working a while ago and Uncle Ian never got around to trying to get it repaired.”
Trevor ran a hand against the carved wood of the clock, “Is this handmade? This is beautiful!”
His attention was quickly taken by some of the boxes of Uncle Ian’s belongings. He glanced at Naomi for permission and then started digging through his stuff. A bunch of it were old journals and some unpublished manuscripts. Mom had said Uncle Ian was a writer, but sadly his words will never be read by anyone.
Trevor was flipping through some of Uncle Ian’s journals, “Oh, your uncle used to travel? Says here, he’s been to France, Hungary, Japan, Mexico…”
Naomi held up a hand, “Yes, he used to travel a bit when he was younger, according to mom, he’d sometimes bring her and her brothers some souvenirs from the places he’s been to.”
“Hello!” Trevor said, picking up a rolled up piece of paper at the bottom of the box, “What are you?”
“Probably a photo or old letter,” Naomi guessed.
Trevor made a face as he unrolled the paper. He flipped it around, expression still puzzled.
“What’s up?” Naomi asked.
Trevor flipped the page towards her and she was met with a series of ineligible scribbles. Huh, I guess it’s probably a letter from someone he met when he was traveling around the world. Naomi thought, Looks old. “What language even is that?”
Trevor shrugged, squinting at the symbols written on the paper, “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly.”
Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Summerlyn came down the stairs. Of course, she’d show up and ruin the fun.
Summerlyn was Naomi’s older sister, and she looked like it too. She was taller than Naomi, her body lean and toned, not that you’d be able to tell since she wore clothes that did not show any skin, and her golden blonde hair was longer. The only notable difference between the two of them is that Summerlyn had gray eyes while Naomi had blue.
“What the hell are you two doing down here?” Summerlyn asked, pointing at Naomi, “Mom said she doesn’t want any guests down here!” she glanced at the books placed on the floor, “I’d clean that up if I was you, if mom knew you were digging through Uncle Ian’s stuff, she’d flip!”
Naomi rolled her eyes and stepped over to her sister, “What? Are you going to tell mom?”
“I will if you don’t clean this up,” Summerlyn replied.
“Oh my gosh, why are you so worked up about this, anyway?” Naomi asked, “You barely knew Uncle Ian.”
“I barely knew him?” Summerlyn asked, taking a step back, “Oh, right, you don’t pay attention to anything that's not on that phone of yours, huh? No, I knew Uncle Ian! More than you! He helped me apply for colleges and helped pay for my classes!”
Naomi held up her hands, “Oh wow, sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know every detail about your life, alright? Uncle Ian helped you and now you’re sad like mom, alright.”
Trevor nervously approached her from behind, “Hey, Naomi,” he began, “maybe we should just cle-”
“Are you taking her side?” Naomi asked, “Of course you would, of course!”
“What?” Trevor asked, “No, I’m not. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Boy, take it from me, you’re better off without her,” Summerlyn began.
Naomi glared at her. Don’t you fucking dare!
Trevor glanced at her, confused.
“Naomi doesn’t love you,” Summerlyn began, “she probably only asked you out as a dare or something. Trust me, you’re not her type and you will not be the one who changes her either. Trust me, just leave, and find someone else, someone who’d love you and-” she glanced at the shirt Trevor was wearing, “someone who wouldn’t mind talking about superheroes.”
Well, I guess Olivia won the bet, Naomi thought, thanks alot, sis.
Trevor, however, surprised her. He was trembling, the letter - or whatever it was - crumbled in his hand. At first Naomi was worried he was going to explode on them and took a step back, but no, the poor bastard stepped towards Summerlyn, his face red. “You stay quiet!” he shouted, surprising both Naomi and Summerlyn, “Don’t tell me who loves me and who doesn’t! I know Naomi and I are meant to be! And no one is going to tell me otherwise, alright!”
“Calm down!” Summerlyn shouted, raising her hands, “Calm down! Alright! You’re in love, I get-”
“No!” Trevor continued, “no, you don’t get it! For the first time in my life, I was asked out! If that’s not a sign, then I don’t know what is!”
Naomi gasped, noticing the paper in Trevor’s hand started to change, started to glow. At first, it was white, but soon burned red hot. Once she saw it, Summerlyn did too, and was freaking out, telling Trevor to drop it.
Unfortunately, Trevor didn’t notice, “Drop what? The fact that things are finally looking my way? Why wou-”
It all happened so fast. The paper burned bright, nearly blinding Naomi. There was a scream, although who was screaming, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly, the light vanished and the basement returned to normal. Except, there were only two people standing here now, Naomi herself, and Summerlyn who was looking down at herself as if she’d never seen her body before.
Naomi stepped forward, “Trevor?” she asked, her voice quivering. She didn’t see him, and couldn't find any trace of him anywhere. She looked around frantically, “Trevor!” she called again. What happened? Sure, he was a loser and she was going to dump his ass as soon as the month was over, but that didn’t mean she wanted him vaporized or whatever happened.
“Trevor!” Naomi screamed, tears stinging her eyes.
“I’m here,” Summerlyn breathed, hands over her breasts.
“Summerlyn, stop fucking around!” Naomi screeched, “Help me find where Trevor went!”
“Naomi, I’m here!” Summerlyn insisted, gesturing to herself, “I’m Trevor!”
Naomi blinked, “T-Trevor?” she asked.
Summerlyn nodded, “Yeah, yeah, it’s me! Uh…” Summerlyn, or Trevor, thought for a moment, “just earlier, I was telling you that I thought you’d make the perfect supergirl! Because you’re beautiful and blonde and-”
Naomi held up a hand, This… this can’t be happening! This isn’t real! she ran her hands through her hair, taking a breath in order to calm down. She looked around, finding no sign of that paper Trevor was holding earlier.
She did notice something else though, slumped over by the dusty furniture, was Trevor’s body. It landed a short distance away from Naomi and Summerlyn. Is Summerlyn in there? Naomi walked over to Trevor’s body and prodded it, wondering if, somehow, Summerlyn had ended up in Trevor’s body like how Trevor ended up in Summerlyn’s. No response.
Naomi checked and found that Trevor’s body was, thankfully, still breathing and still had a pulse, but it looked like no one was home. Naomi sighed, looking over at Summerlyn to see Trevor was fondling his new breasts through Summerlyn’s tank top. Of course that’s what you’re doing.
Naomi cleared her throat to get Trevor’s attention. To his credit, he did seem embarrassed when he saw Naomi notice him exploring her older sister’s body. “Help me get your body upstairs,” she said, ignoring where Trevor still had his hands, “quick, I don’t want my mom coming in and seeing us in here like this!”
That snapped Trevor out of his trance and he helped Naomi carry his body up stairs. Trevor’s body was a little on the heavier side, and Naomi wasn’t the biggest fan of his smell. It could be worse, but it also could have been better. Thankfully, while neither Naomi or Summerlyn were the strongest, they were able to carry Trevor’s body back up the stairs and into Naomi’s room where they propped up his body on the bed.
Naomi sighed, rubbing her arms, “How are you doing?” she asked.
Trevor gulped, “I’m not sure, honestly,” he replied, “it’s… it’s strange seeing myself from the outside like this.”
“Do you know where Summerlyn is?” Naomi asked, “She’s not in your body.”
“If I had to guess, she might still be in this body, but I’m currently in control or something.” Trevor flexed Summerlyn’s hands, watching the movement raptly, his gaze slowly moved from her hands to other parts of her body.
Naomi wasn’t sure why, but seeing him looking at her sister’s body like that was making her angry. Out of the people, why was it Summerlyn? Of course, the thought of Trevor in her body made her shiver, something Trevor thankfully didn’t notice as he was too busy looking down at Summerlyn’s body to notice what Naomi was doing grinning widely as he looked down Summerlyn’s shirt.
“Can you get out of her body?” Naomi snapped, coming out less of a question and more of a demand.
That snapped Trevor out of his daydreams and he, once again, looked abashedly at Naomi, he scratched the back of Summerlyn’s head, a sheepish smile on her face, “Uhh… I’m not sure.”
“Well,” Naomi paused for a moment, I am not letting you stay in my sisters body any longer than you already have, “can you figure something out? Like… try to imagine leaving her body and… I don’t know, do it?”
Trevor sighed, “Alright… I’ll…I’ll try.”
Trevor was silent for a moment, closing his eyes and looking deep in concentration. A minute passed, and then another. Naomi was beginning to feel frustrated, wondering if Trevor was even trying. He’s probably not, she thought sourly, crossing her arms, he probably just wants me to think he is so he can stay as Summerlyn a bit longer. She had just finished the thought when Summerlyn suddenly slumped over.
Naomi cried out, rushing towards Summerlyn to avoid her crashing to the floor just as Trevor’s body gasped. “It worked!” Trevor cried out.
“Glad to hear!” Naomi growled, making sure her sister didn’t hurt herself too much from the fall.
“Do you think she knows what happened?” Trevor asked, approaching the two of them.
“I don’t know,” Naomi replied truthfully. Although for your own sake, you’d better hope she doesn’t remember.
Summerlyn started to come to, blinking and waving Naomi and Trevor away, “Huh? What happened?”
“You nearly fainted earlier in the basement-!” Trevor said quickly, “Afterwards Naomi and I dragged you up here to see if you were alright. We were about to call someone when you started coming to.”
Summerlyn frowned, and shook her head, “Argh, alright, well,” she groaned as she stood up, placing her hands on her hips, “I don’t want either of you going into the basement anymore, alright? Neither of you have seen how mom’s been lately and I don’t think you two messing around down there will help her, alright?”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Alright, sis, whatever you say.”
Trevor nodded, “Alright.”
Summerlyn nodded, “Good, now… I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Summerlyn rubbed her head as she left Naomi’s room. Well it looks like she doesn’t remember what happened when Trevor was inside her, Naomi thought, probably for the best, I doubt she’d take that better than I would.
Her hands turned to fists by her side, speaking of which, she turned to Trevor, “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed what you were doing in my sister's body!” she hissed.
Trevor sucked in a breath and stepped back, holding his hands out in front of him, “Woah! Heh, heh, easy Naomi,” he gave a nervous chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, “look, I’m sorry about that, alright? I’ve never been a girl before, I’ve never had or touched boobs, I… just… didn’t think right.”
Naomi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, rather it was Summerlyn than me. she suppressed a shiver, would the thought of returning to his own body even occur to him without me pushing it onto him?
“Naomi,” Trevor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she had to stop herself from jerking out of his grasp, “I’m sorry. Really, I am. Can we, please put this all behind us?”
Naomi stared into his eyes. Where in the world would Uncle Ian get one of these things? Whatever, hopefully, now that the scroll - or whatever it was - is gone, she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. “Sure, let’s put this all behind us.”
Trevor grinned and hugged her. Naomi, reluctantly, returned his hug. Trevor was the one who broke it off, noticing the clock on her wall, “Oh, is it eight already? I need to get going,” he turned to her, “see you at school?”
Naomi nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see you at school.”
Naomi helped Trevor gather his belongings and saw him to the door as he started to walk back home. She sighed, curious about whether or not there were other scrolls down there in the basement. She considered going down there herself and checking, but decided against it, she’d already promised Summerlyn and if she found her down there again, well, she’d never hear the end of it.
Maybe mom knows what Uncle Ian was up to? Naomi thought. I should probably check on Summerlyn. Her sister left the door to her room open a crack and, peering through, Naomi saw Summerlyn was buried in a book, taking down notes for one of her classes. Of course she was.
Naomi considered texting Wren and Olivia what she and Trevor found in the basement, going as far as beginning to type it out, before deciding not to and deleting the message. She barely believed what happened and she was there to witness it herself, how would those two believe what she said?
Instead, she decided to open a blank journal and started writing things down. She had to, just to process what was happening, to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind. She had just finished writing when her mom, who’d gotten home some time earlier, called her and Summerlyn down to eat.
“Hey mom," Naomi began between bites.
“Hmm?” her mom grunted.
“What was it exactly that Great Uncle Ian did?”
Her mom made a face, “Why do you ask?”
“Trevor was wondering what he did?” Naomi lied.
Her mom sighed, “He liked to travel a lot. He told me how he backpacked across Europe and even the United States a few times and what he’s seen on those travels,” she chuckled to herself, “he’d brought back several souvenirs and wrote multiple blogs about the places he’d been and what he’d found. You know, when I was younger, he’d always insist he came across real magic out there in the world, hidden in places almost forgotten and yet, he managed to find them and bring them back with him.”
I guess he did find some magic afterall, Naomi thought, thanking her mom for dinner and heading back upstairs. She’d need to track down her uncle’s blogs, see if maybe there was an explanation for whatever happened in the basement. But, maybe that was something she’ll do for another time, since it was getting late and she was getting tired.
As Naomi got her things ready and left down the hall to take a shower, she noticed the door to Summerlyn’s room was closed. Odd, since she always left it a little open in case someone called for her. As Naomi passed by, she thought she heard the sound of Summerlyn’s phone camera going off. She shook her head, whatever, what Summerlyn was up to was none of her business.
Oh well. Naomi thought, crawling into bed. I just hope whatever happened to Trevor was just temporary. She shivered, the thought of him being able to just take over people's bodies like that. She had an idea of what he'd use them for and hoped that whatever happened was just a one time thing.
---
The next morning, Naomi woke up and got ready to go to school. She stopped by to check up on Summerlyn before she left, she couldn't explain why, but she was just worried more than usual.
Summerlyn was still asleep when Naomi walked in. She considered maybe trying to wake her up, but decided against it, no doubt she'd get an earful from Summerlyn about how disrespectful that is or something like that.
Guess I'll just check up on you again later. Naomi thought, going downstairs.
---
Olivia was already waiting for her when she walked through the doors into Milton High. Strangely, Wren was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was sick?
“Where's Wren?” Naomi asked.
Olivia rolled her eyes, “She said she had to run to the restroom, something about breakfast not agreeing with her or something.” Olivia shook her head, “Whatever. How're you and Trevor doing, by the way? How are you two holding up?”
Naomi resisted the urge to stick out her tongue in disgust, “He still thinks we're actually dating,” Olivia interrupted her to make a gagging sound, Naomi couldn't say she disagreed, “you should listen to him talk, so disgusting. It's worse than when he talks non stop about those annoying superheroes or whatever it is he cares about.”
“Oh?” Olivia began, getting closer, “What does he say? The disgusting stuff, I don't care about anything else.”
Naomi smiled, and looked around to make sure Trevor wasn't nearby to overhear her, “He keeps talking about girls and what he would do if he got to the point where they had sex.”
Olivia gasped.
Naomi continued, smiling as she recounted her horrible first “date” with him, “You know, he asked me what kind of woman I was and what I expected him to do in our relationship? Well, since I didn't want to get dumped by him I had to play into it and said I would do the housework and cook while he gets to be treated as a king all day. He ate that up hook, line, and sinker. Then he asked about sex! Just like that! No other conversation! Just sex! Sex! Sex!” Naomi sighed, "What's worse is that afterwards, he just keeps rambling on and on about anime and superheroes."
Olivia was barely able to stand from laughing so much, “Oh my! Naomi I almost feel sorry for you for making you do this!”
“You will be sorry when I win this bet and you have to do something for me.” Naomi replied.
“Hey girls!” Wren greeted, walking over to them, “What are you all talking about?”
“Oh you're not going to believe this,” Olivia began, still laughing, “Naomi's been telling us all about what she and Trevor have been doing lately!”
“Ooh!” Wren exclaimed, “What do you think about Trevor?”
Olivia laughed, “The dude's a creep! He's even more of a loser than I thought he was! Sex this! Sex that!”
Wren frowned, “Oh? Is that what you think of him?”
Olivia shrugged, “As much as I know about him, anyway. You know, Trevor looks alright, a bit short maybe, but that personality just really kills it!”
Wren made a face and stepped closer, “You think all that before even getting to know him?”
Olivia held up her hands in mock surrender and chuckled, “Woah, relax Wren, I'm just having some fun! Trevor's a little weirdo! That's all there is to him really, he just thinks about women he likes and that's it. Not even in a good way either.”
Wren scoffed, “is that so?”
Olivia sighed in exasperation, “Oh my god, Wren! I don't know why you're so mad about this! I'm going to see if the cafeterias are still serving breakfast, if you want to calm down and talk to me you can find me there, alright?”
With that, Olivia left. Naomi stared after her, mouth dry. She turned over to Wren who watched Olivia with anger and sadness in her eyes. Except Naomi wasn’t sure that was Wren behind those eyes.
Wren turned to her, noticing Naomi staring, “What?” She asked.
There's no way… “Trevor?” Naomi began hesitantly, “Is… is that you?”
Wren grinned, “Yup!” Trevor admitted, fist pumping the air, “it's me!” he chuckled, “I still have the powers that scroll gave me, it's insane! Hey, I used them on Ms. Shaw earlier and used them to steal the answers for today's quiz!”
Naomi felt her skin crawl. Olivia said Wren went to the bathroom earlier, was that when Trevor possessed her? Or did that happen earlier? She shivered, thinking about what he might have done when he was alone.
Naomi crossed her arms beneath her breasts, “Trevor,” she began, “Please get our of my friend.”
Trevor blinked and then chuckled, “Oh, yeah! I… really should get back to my body before school starts, huh? Come with me, I left my body in the boys bathroom.”
Naomi sighed and followed Trevor. She was barely paying attention as he excitedly told her some of the questions and answers to the quiz. She focused more on what he might have done and what he will probably do.
“Is something wrong?” Trevor asked as they stopped in front of the boys bathroom.
“Hmm?” Naomi asked, “Oh, nothing! It's fine, I was just… wondering about your powers.”
Trevor chuckled, “I've been wondering about them too and I've been trying to test out the limits, but I think I'll save that for another day. Do me a favor and catch Wren, will you? I don't want to hurt her sweet body.”
Before Naomi could answer, Wren suddenly slumped forward and Naomi leapt to catch Wren before she fell to the floor. She held her up as Wren slowly regained consciousness, “Ugh… what? Naomi? Where am I?”
“Wren?” Naomi asked, “You've… passed out earlier with Olivia. I was taking you to the nurse when you started waking up!” Trevor, I am going to kill you!
Wren grumbled, shaking her head. Please believe me. She blinked, looking around, “What time is it?” she winced, “I think I'll go see the nurse myself, thanks for carrying me all this way.” She waved away Naomi and walked off, heading in the direction of the nurse’s office.
With that, Trevor came out of the bathroom, smiling. “She didn't remember anything! Heh heh! Can you believe that?”
“Yeah…” Naomi began, “that's really something.” She hoped her expression didn’t let slip the amount of disgust she was feeling.
“Hey Naomi,” Trevor began, sobering up, “I… need to ask you an important question.”
Naomi managed to keep a neutral expression as she turned to look at him, “What's that?” She asked, suddenly worried.
“Earlier, when Olivia was talking shit about me… how come you kept silent?”
Naomi froze. How much did he overhear? Did he know Naomi was the one who told Olivia about all those things? Or did he think Olivia was the one who said all that herself? What will he do if he finds out the truth? Naomi could feel herself starting to sweat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anything to say, either in denial, or in deflection.
Trevor sighed, looking heartbroken, taking her hesitation as something else entirely “It's… whatever. I'll see you after school, alright?”
“Alright.” Naomi replied, her heart pounding as she watched him go. That… that was close.
---
The rest of the day Naomi had trouble focusing on anything her teachers were saying, whatever, she could probably just ask one of her other classmates for notes. She was too busy thinking about what was happening with Trevor. What the hell was her great uncle getting up to? Did Uncle Ian have anything else like that hidden among his belongings? Could she find something to possibly reverse this?
The power to just take over someone’s body was freaky enough as is, but the thought of Trevor of all people having it just made her skin crawl. On their first day, Trevor told her all the things he loves about a woman, with one of the top things being her body, and how he can’t stop himself from looking no matter how hard he tries.
Jeez, the boy had no tack and was just overall unpleasant to be around. A shame, too, Naomi thought, I bet he honestly thought he was complimenting me by going on and on about how beautiful I am. Naomi suppressed a smirk, the truth was that she was flattered at first, but his constant pointing out of her looks lost their charm very quickly.
“Naomi Walker!”
Naomi came crashing down back into reality, “Huh?”
Her teacher, Mr. Gray, sighed, rubbing his temples, “I was asking if you knew how to solve this equation…”
Naomi felt her face grow warm as she glanced at the whiteboard and had no idea what on earth she was looking at, “No,” she admitted, “I do not.” That earned a round of snickers from her other classmates.
Mr. Gray shook his head, “Rachel Smith, you’re up.”
Great. Naomi thought, letting her mind wander again. Now Trevor’s making things difficult in other ways as well.
---
Lunch couldn’t come quick enough. Naomi gathered her things and headed off quickly, wanting nothing more to regroup with Wren and Olivia. She thought about telling them about the situation, but decided against it. There’s no way they’ll believe me, Naomi thought, I can still just barely believe this is happening and I was there to see it happen twice! I need to find out more about Uncle Ian, if nothing else, he’ll be the one with any answers
At least she could, hopefully, relax around them for a bit. Maybe Olivia would have some gossip to help her take her mind off things for a while. After grabbing her lunch, Naomi noticed Olivia sitting at a different spot than usual even though their table was empty. Naomi swallowed, He wouldn't. her nervousness gave way to anger the closer she got, her shoes hitting the ground harder and harder with each step. He. Fucking. Wouldn't.
“Olivia” turned to her as she approached. She had an uncharacteristic big grin on her face and her hands were… Fucking Trevor! her hands were groping her own breasts.
“HI Naomi!” Trevor greeted from inside Olivia's body, “You won't be-”
“Get out.” Naomi ordered.
Trevor smiled, taking his hands off Olivia's breasts, “Woah! Woah!” He began, “No need to get so angry with me, alright? I just don't think Olivia's that good of a friend for you! I mean, what kind of friend badmouths their other friends' boyfriends? I mean, you heard the things she was saying about me.”
“Get. Out.” Naomi repeated.
“That's not all,” Trevor continued, ignoring Naomi, “I checked her phone earlier, did you know she has some dirt on you and Wren as well? I couldn't believe it myself and I was the one who found it-”
“Trevor.” Naomi growled, finally getting him to shut up and listen, “Get. Out. Of. Her. Body. Now!”
Trevor blinked, and looked away, “Alright,” he said, his voice low, “but… can you promise me something?”
“What?” Naomi snapped.
Trevor looked back at her, “Can you defend me next time?” he paused before continuing, “I'm not asking for much, at least I don't think I am. But when she was talking shit about me, you just stood there and let her keep talking.”
Naomi blinked, this fucking guy… She knew he had a point. Even she could see that, but given his actions so far, it seemed Olivia had a point. But right now wasn't a good time to confront him about any of this.
She nodded, “Alright,” she conceded, “I'll tell Olivia to stop picking on you.”
Trevor smiled and then Olivia started shaking, her eyes rolling back before she gasped and nearly fell on the table. Trevor was gone, most likely returning to his own body, wherever that was.
“Ugh,” Olivia moaned, rubbing her head, “How the hell did I get here?”
“What's wrong?” Naomi asked.
“Naomi?” Olivia asked, noticing her, “Last thing I remember was being in fifth period when everything just went…” Olivia's eyes widened and her face went red. Her hands felt at her chest before dropping down below her waist. Her face paled almost instantly.
Naomi gulped, a faint idea of what happened already forming in her head, “Is everything alright?”
“Where the fuck are my panties?” Olivia hissed, going even redder.
Naomi coughed, Trevor was really pushing his luck with her. Looking closer at Olivia's shirt, it wasn't just her bra he took off either. No, she saw the way her breasts were hanging and how they moved around when Olivia turned. Her bra was gone as well.
“Shit!” Olivia hissed, standing up and looking around, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“Calm down!” Naomi whispered, “Do you… happen to have any spares?”
Olivia nodded, “I have some panties in my locker… I'll be back.”
Olivia shuffled off just as Wren came by, placing her tray down as she looked in, confused as to why Olivia was practically running out of the cafeteria.
Wren gave Naomi a look, “What's up with her?”
Naomi sighed, she knew telling the truth was not an option. “Wardrobe malfunction,” she replied, “she's getting some spare clothes from her locker.”
Wren grunted, “You doing alright, Naomi? You've been quiet today.”
Naomi stared at Wren for a while. She was acting like herself, and hadn't groped her breasts so far. “Just thinking about Trevor,” Naomi admitted, “he's been a hassle lately.”
“Going to dump him early?”
Naomi shook her head, “I don't think that's a good idea, he's…” Fuck, what should I say here?, “gotten a hold of something embarrassing of mine and I'm afraid if I dump him he'll tell everyone.”
Wren wrinkled her nose, “Ouch, he's really the type who would do that?” she gave a sympathetic squeeze to Naomi’s hand, “I'm sorry I ever went to bat for him. Well, whatever happens, Olivia and I will be here for you.”
Naomi smiled, but remembered Trevor's words that Olivia kept dirt on her and Wren in her phone. It didn't seem like he was lying either, as he'd offered to show her the proof and even delete it. I don't think Olivia will stand by me, Naomi thought. It was silly, of course she wouldn't. Still, that didn't mean Naomi wanted something like this to happen to her. She looked back at Wren who gave her a supportive smile and returned it. Wren might be different though, but Naomi wasn’t sure.
What she was sure about was that she needed to find out about what her uncle had. Luckily Trevor will be staying after school today for one of his stupid clubs, that meant Naomi would have a chance to look through her uncle's belongings and search for his blog on the internet,
So she did just that. After school, she went straight home and saw she would be alone for a few hours. Her parents were still working and Summerlyn had an evening class today.
Damn, Naomi thought, I was hoping to ask mom what she knew about Uncle Ian, hopefully she'll be back soon. No matter.* At least that meant she was able to search the basement without much issue.
At least, that's what she thought until she tried the door and found it locked. Ugh! Summerlyn!
Naomi pounded on the door out of frustration before growling, heading to Summerlyn’s room, hoping she'd find the key.
Thankfully, Summerlyn’s room didn't have a lock so getting in wasn't an issue. The issue then became finding the key, hopefully Summerlyn didn't take it with her. The bed and the desk weren't of any use, although as she checked under the bed she was surprised to see some of Summerlyn’s clothes just tossed underneath. Normally her sister would just toss them in the laundry bin.
Whatever. She checked her dresser and found the key in the third drawer. Afterwards she left to go down the basement.
It still looked the same as it did yesterday, with some of the furniture slightly moved as Naomi and Trevor looked through her uncle's belongings.
She started at the box where Trevor pulled that scroll from. Inside were some maps, a few souvenirs from other places her uncle had visited, but no other scrolls.
At the bottom of the box was an old journal. Naomi grabbed it and flipped through it, grinning as she realized it was a journal her uncle kept to record his travels. Hopefully, Uncle Ian would have written about something like this.
She searched through his other belongings, but that turned out to be a bust. So, with only a journal for her efforts, Naomi returned the basement key to Summerlyn’s room and started reading through the journal in her room.
Naomi would gather from the journal, as well as from her mom and Summerlyn, that her uncle didn't travel alone. He had someone else with him, a friend named Tom. Together the two of them traveled across the world, going across the United States, to Europe, and Asia as well.
From the journal, Naomi found out her uncle and Tom came across these scrolls as they were exploring an old ruin they found in a forest in Europe. Unfortunately, if they ever found out what these things were and what they did, her uncle didn't write them down.
All he wrote down was that he thought they were neat and he took one while his friend took several. So if I want to find out more about what's going on and how to stop Trevor, I'll need to find where Tom is and hope he knows anything about these scrolls.
It took her a while to find her uncle’s blog, but after an hour, she came across it. The blog detailed her uncle and Tom’s journey across the world, staring at the United States and how they traveled to Europe with little except what they could fit in their backpacks. She skipped ahead, seeing her uncle took several pictures of himself and Tom as they traveled along the world.
She came across an entry where her uncle and Tom decided to explore a forest somewhere in the United Kingdom. There, they came across the remains of a stone tower hidden deep in the forest and he had several photos of what they found inside, numerous old books rotting on bookshelves, strange symbols written on the walls, and, to her horror, several scrolls thrown about the tables.
There were a few comments on this blog post, with some commenters asking where exactly they were as they lived closeby, but had never encountered this stone tower ever before in their lives. Her blood ran cold when she saw her uncle responding to these comments, saying he’d tried to go back a few days later, but could not find where he and Tom stumbled upon the tower.
Her mom’s words echoed in her head, how Uncle Ian believed there was still magic out there hidden in the world and that he brought some back home with him. He did, Naomi thought, shutting off her laptop, he really did.
She wrote down everything she discovered in her journal. So far, it was the only thing keeping her sane, assuring her that all of this was actually real. She hid the journal in one of the drawers in her dresser before getting ready for bed.
The next day, before school, Naomi approached her mom and asked Tom, Uncle Ian’s friend.
“Of course I know about him,” her mom replied, “Why, he and Uncle Ian were practically inseparable when they were younger! Why?”
“I just wanted to learn more about Uncle Ian,” Naomi lied, “I feel like I never got to him. I was wondering if maybe Tom would tell me any stories about what he and Uncle Ian got up to.”
“Oh,” her mom replied sadly, “well… I'm afraid it's a little too late for that. Tom passed away a little while ago,”
Naomi grew cold, “What happened to him?”
“It was terrible,” her mom continued, “he and his daughter were in a car crash.”
Naomi leaned against the table to prevent herself from stumbling back. Her mom asked her what was wrong, but her words were meaningless buzzing to Naomi's ears. No! Naomi squeezed her eyes shut, He was the only one who would have had any answers!
“Naomi!” her mom said, grabbing her softly on the arm.
Naomi gasped, but returned to reality.
“Naomi…” her mom began, “What's wrong?”
“It's nothing.” she lied. “Nothing.”
Numb. She grabbed her backpack and went to school.
---
Trevor came back with her to her house. He was giddy, eagerly showing her the notes and other materials he managed to grab while he possessed their teachers' bodies.
“Here's the answer sheet for our history final,” Trevor said, grinning, “You're welcome for this, by the way, I know history is your worst subject.”
Naomi nodded, thanking Trevor listlessly as he went on about some of the other stuff he got up to with his new powers. She knew he was keeping some stuff from her, there was no way someone like him wouldn’t have misused those powers. He took over Wren and Olivia. The thought of what he did to Olivia made Naomi’s hands turn into fists by her side.
“Why did you take off Olivia's underwear?” Naomi asked, cutting him off.
Trevor rolled his eyes, “This again? Look, I might've gone too far with that one, but she isn't a good person. I already told you, and I just thought she needed to learn a lesson.”
“She had to walk around without a bra for the rest of the day, Trevor.”
Trevor actually laughed at that one, “I can tell you there were a few people who enjoyed that.”
“You told people?”
Trevor sighed, “Just a few, and besides, she deserved it! She's been talking shit about us for months, it was time someone knocked her down a peg!”
Naomi rubbed her temples, “And that someone had to be you, right?”
Trevor stood up, throwing his hands in the air, “I don't need to take this right now! I'm taking a five minute break, alright? Let me know when you're ready to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Naomi snapped as Trevor went to the door.
“Like I'm gross!” Trevor shouted, “like I'm a bug! You and Olivia both! You have that same look in your eye that she did, drop her and I'm sure we'll be better off for it!”
With that, he left, slamming the door behind him. Naomi rolled her eyes, and sighed. She needed to calm down, right now wasn't the best time to antagonize him, no matter how much he deserved it. Who knows what will be his breaking point and he decides to use his powers on her.
She looked down, noticing he left his phone on her bed. She couldn't help herself and opened it, as he'd told her his password.
There were several texts from some of his friends in his after school club, each one thanking him for telling them about Olivia's wardrobe incident with a few of them asking how he knew about it. So he's been keeping his powers a secret too. Naomi thought.
Each text made her stomach churn as each boy talked about how much they liked seeing Olivia like that and even asking Trevor if he could target some of the other girls as well. Thankfully, Trevor declined, but did ask if any of them would like a copy of the answer sheets to some upcoming tests.
Naomi checked his photo gallery next and nearly dropped his phone when she saw what was on it. There were numerous pictures of other girls in their grade in various states of undress. No doubt Trevor possessed them and made them take these pictures and send them to himself.
She nearly gagged when she came across the photos Trevor took of Olivia as well as Summerlyn. Olivia's seemed to be taken in one of the bathroom stalls and she was completely naked at one point, showing her pussy to the camera as well as showing her bra and panties being flushed down the toilet.
Summerlyn was similar as well. Several pictures were taken of her in various pieces of clothing before she became naked and flashed her bits to the camera. That night, Naomi thought, when I heard in her room, that was Trevor.
Before she could fully process what she was seeing, the door opened and Trevor paused when he saw his phone in her hands. Her shock made her drop his phone and it landed face up, showing that Naomi was looking through his gallery.
Trevor didn’t even get a word in before Naomi spoke, “What the hell?” Despite the emotions raging through her, those words were barely louder than a whisper.
“Listen, I can-”
“No!” Naomi cut off, raising her voice and getting off her bed and throwing his phone at him, “Get out! Now!”
Trevor backed up as she got closer, “Naomi, wait-!”
“Get out!” Naomi screeched, “I don't want to see you ever again! Those girls! My sister! Olivia! Get out, Trevor!”
Trevor didn’t move, just standing there as Noami shoved against him. He growled, standing his ground, but Naomi was stronger than he thought.
Naomi slapped him, but Trevor grabbed her arm before it landed. Naomi grunted, her chest tightening as she tried to yank her arm free, but Trevor kept it in an iron grip.
“I came across some interesting stuff in Olivia's phone when I possessed her,” Trevor began, “Is…” his voice broke slightly before he continued, “was our relationship… did it really begin as a dare?”
Naomi scoffed and yanked her hand back before shoving Trevor. He stumbled back, shocked. “Yes.” Naomi admitted, “Did you actually think otherwise?”
Trevor swallowed, his face hardening, “So you're just like them then. I thought you'd be different!”
Naomi laughed, you can't be serious, “Pfft! I'm just like them? All of them?”
“It's because of girls like you that never give people like me a chance!”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Please. You wanna know why none of the other girls never wanted anything to do with you? Why Olivia talked shit about you? It's because you're gross! All you see when you look at a woman is her body! Why else do you have all those pictures on your phone? That's all you care about, just seeing them naked! Getting your rocks off by looking at those pictures you send to yourself!”
The entire time Naomi tore into Trevor, his face hardened and turned red. It was almost funny really how sad and pathetic he looked when he was angry and genuinely trying to look intimidating.
However, as Naomi stepped closer, Trevor’s body suddenly went limp and slumped to the floor. Naomi blinked and knew what was happening. Oh no.
She shuddered, a feeling of pins and needles overtaking her as her vision went black.
---
Finally, Trevor thought as he opened his eyes to see himself in Naomi's body, I managed to shut her up.
He looked down on his own body and decided to leave it there for now. It would still be some time until Naomi's mom and sister got home and so he had the time to do whatever he wanted to with her body.
He didn't waste any time either. You never let me get to second base, he thought, a wicked smile on his lips, I think it's time that changes. He touched Naomi's breasts through her clothes. They weren't as big as some of the other girls he possessed, most notably Summerlyn and Olivia, but he appreciated how they felt in his hands right now. But how much better did they look?
He ripped off Naomi's shirt eagerly, grinning as her white bra was revealed. Oh Naomi, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this! Trevor thought, grinning as his hands once again went to her breasts, kneading them with the bra.
He sighed, feeling something going on between her legs. That sensation happened a lot while he was exploring the bodies of the girls he possessed. It was like getting an erection with a penis, but… different.
Naomi's pants came off next, followed by her socks. Her panties matched her bra, white, and Trevor hesitated briefly as his fingers dug beneath the fabric. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore, she made that more than clear, but still… the thought of seeing her naked was making him warm and dizzy.
He chuckled as he threw off her panties and collapsed on the bed as her bra followed shortly afterwards. Where's her phone? Trevor thought, I need to see how she looks! He found it and turned on her camera, changing to selfie mode and held it against his new body.
She was beautiful, but Trevor knew that already. Pale skin laid bare before him, her nipples the color of cherries and were hard and sensitive as his fingers brushed over them. He bit his lips, legs squirming, Fuck! Her tits aren't as large as Summerlyn’s, but they're sensitive!
He angled the phone to look between her legs. A neatly trimmed patch of hair greeted him, covering the entrance to her pussy which was very wet and he opened her pussy lips, his finger sliding in easily. He arched his back, biting hard on his lip to prevent himself from crying out loud.
Fuck! Trevor gasped, recovering from that sensation, That was… way different from a penis!
He licked his lips, trying to calm down. So far he'd only taken pictures of these girls to save for later when he returned to his own body. The thought of masturbating as them though… that made his face warm.
Trevor looked down at Naomi's pussy. It felt good when he accidentally slipped a finger inside, what if he tried to feel around- Holy-!
That must be the clitoris! Trevor wasn't able to stop himself, shouting out loudly as he flicked Naomi's clit, and started working it. His legs thrashed about, his free hand going to one of her breasts, rubbing against a still erect nipple. He could feel the pressure building and while he'd never orgasmed as a girl before, he knew what it was as it approached.
He cried out as the orgasm overtook him, coming along much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced as a guy. He gasped as the climax left him behind, letting him recover. I can't feel my legs. Trevor thought.
He glanced over at his body, still laying there. He had to think, if he left Naomi alone, she might cause problems for him in the future. Maybe there's a way for him to get around that.
Her phone provided a good solution. A few pictures of her naked for later was always appreciated, and it might be good to use to stop her from interfering with his plans. Of course, if that wasn't enough, he took a few pictures of Naomi with his dick in her hands as well as his mouth. It felt… strange to have a penis in his mouth, not something he'd want to do again.
Serves you right. Trevor thought, sending the photos to his phone and then making sure the evidence was deleted from her phone.
---
When Naomi came to, she found herself alone in her room, fully clothed. Trevor was gone and almost an hour had passed. What did he make me do? Naomi wondered, her mouth dry.
Her phone dinged. She reached for it hesitantly and took in a sharp breath through clenched teeth when she saw Trevor’s name appear on her screen. He sent her a text.
Trevor: If you don't want pictures like these circulating around the school, you'll do well to leave me alone.
Trevor: Thanks for the fun time though. ;)
Attached was a picture of her naked body with Trevor's dick in her mouth.
Naomi nearly dropped her phone.
Naomi tried her hardest not to let out a sigh of exasperation as Trevor continued on his little diatribe about some superheroes Naomi could not care less about. A few more weeks of this, Noami thought, glancing at the clock and getting frustrated at how slowly time seemed to be moving, can’t believe I agreed to this bet, I need to find something Olivia could do for me that’ll make all this worth it.
Trevor was still talking, not having noticed Naomi had checked out of the conversation. Physically, he was alright looking, average height, average weight, his face had some acne scars, but was otherwise fine, he didn’t smell which was great. No, that wasn’t the issue with him, the real issue was how he wouldn’t shut up and how he seemed to leer at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. Of course, it didn’t help that the thing he wouldn’t shut up about is how much he likes looking at women’s bodies.
At least he managed to keep his hands to himself, most of the time anyway, unfortunately, now wasn’t one of those times. As he was talking, he started scootching closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Naomi wanted to push him away, tell him to keep his hands to himself, but decided against it. She didn’t want him to break up with her before the month was over, now that would be one of the most embarrassing things that would have ever happened to her. That would also render the dare moot and Olivia would have won. As if a dweeb like him would have the backbone to break up with me, Naomi thought, smiling slightly, if he gets sad, a little bit of skin should do the trick and make him happy again.
Trevor noticed her smile and grinned, “Ah, so you think Supergirl is good too! Nice! You know, I think you’d make a great Supergirl!”
Naomi blinked, realizing he must think she was reacting to him, “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Well for one, you already look a bit like her,” he started counting, using his fingers, “you’re strong, determined, don’t take any crap from anyone, and you’re beautiful!”
Is he actually- Naomi smiled despite herself, she had no idea what he was talking about, but she was able to figure out that he was being earnest and, from what she could gather, Trevor does really enjoy Supergirl and if he thought she was like her, then who was she to deny such a compliment?
“Oh!” Trevor began, looking at the clock, “Sorry, I realize I’ve been talking for about half an hour now,” he blushed and scratched the back of his head, “Heh, sorry, sorry. How was your day?”
Naomi smiled, “I’ve been alright. Olivia and Wren and I have been talking a bit. Olivia’s been laughing lately, something about Victoria nearly embarrassing herself during the last cheer practice. I don’t know.”
Trevor nodded, “Is your mom and sister alright? I noticed they both seem a little down lately.”
Naomi sighed, “Oh, right. I haven’t told you about this because I didn’t want to ruin the mood,” that was a big lie, she hadn’t told him because she hardly cared herself, “my Great Uncle Ian passed away a few weeks ago and mom and Summerlyn have been going to his house and moving things in storage,” Naomi shrugged, “they asked dad and some of my other cousins to help bring some stuff here as well. I think everything’s in the basement.”
“Oh, I’m… really sorry, what happened to him?”
Naomi waved a hand, “He was old, and had some health problems before, something about a bad heart.”
“How’s your family taking it?”
I guess we’re talking about this now, Naomi thought, better than hearing him blather on about superheroes I don’t care about, much better than hearing him talk about other girls. “Mom’s taking it the hardest, she’s been almost inconsolable lately. Uncle Ian helped raise her since she was younger and she was there with him when he died.”
Trevor was silent for a moment before asking, “How are you taking it?”
Naomi shrugged, “Barely knew the guy, he had some cool stuff in his house though, wanna come see?”
“Oh, is that alright?”
“Should be,” Naomi replied, “just be careful not to break anything.”
Naomi helped him off her bed and together the two of them left her room and went to the basement. Her parents weren’t here right now, her dad was still at work, and her mom was probably at some cousin’s house making arrangements for Uncle Ian’s funeral. That only left herself and Summerlyn, who was probably in her room studying or something. Still, she’d rather not Summerlyn find out she was down here and tell her mom, who’d know when she’d hear the end of it, so she pressed a finger to her lips at Trevor before opening the door to her basement.
The basement wasn’t much, it was a bit larger than the downstairs living room and normally was used just to store the washer and dryer. Now, however, there were several pieces of furniture belonging to Uncle Ian stored down here, along with several boxes containing more of Uncle Ian’s stuff.
None of this stuff was particularly interesting to Naomi, there was a grandfather clock, thankfully it was broken, along with a vanity desk, a clothes drawer, and a rocking chair. The vanity desk held her interest for a moment, until Naomi realized it was too big for her room and was a bit too antique for her tastes. She glanced over at Trevor who took all of this in with a look of wonder on his face. I’m glad someone’s enjoying this, hopefully this will stop you from going on and on about superheroes.
“Aw, the clock doesn’t work?” Trevor asked.
Naomi shook her head, “According to mom, it stopped working a while ago and Uncle Ian never got around to trying to get it repaired.”
Trevor ran a hand against the carved wood of the clock, “Is this handmade? This is beautiful!”
His attention was quickly taken by some of the boxes of Uncle Ian’s belongings. He glanced at Naomi for permission and then started digging through his stuff. A bunch of it were old journals and some unpublished manuscripts. Mom had said Uncle Ian was a writer, but sadly his words will never be read by anyone.
Trevor was flipping through some of Uncle Ian’s journals, “Oh, your uncle used to travel? Says here, he’s been to France, Hungary, Japan, Mexico…”
Naomi held up a hand, “Yes, he used to travel a bit when he was younger, according to mom, he’d sometimes bring her and her brothers some souvenirs from the places he’s been to.”
“Hello!” Trevor said, picking up a rolled up piece of paper at the bottom of the box, “What are you?”
“Probably a photo or old letter,” Naomi guessed.
Trevor made a face as he unrolled the paper. He flipped it around, expression still puzzled.
“What’s up?” Naomi asked.
Trevor flipped the page towards her and she was met with a series of ineligible scribbles. Huh, I guess it’s probably a letter from someone he met when he was traveling around the world. Naomi thought, Looks old. “What language even is that?”
Trevor shrugged, squinting at the symbols written on the paper, “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly.”
Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Summerlyn came down the stairs. Of course, she’d show up and ruin the fun.
Summerlyn was Naomi’s older sister, and she looked like it too. She was taller than Naomi, her body lean and toned, not that you’d be able to tell since she wore clothes that did not show any skin, and her golden blonde hair was longer. The only notable difference between the two of them is that Summerlyn had gray eyes while Naomi had blue.
“What the hell are you two doing down here?” Summerlyn asked, pointing at Naomi, “Mom said she doesn’t want any guests down here!” she glanced at the books placed on the floor, “I’d clean that up if I was you, if mom knew you were digging through Uncle Ian’s stuff, she’d flip!”
Naomi rolled her eyes and stepped over to her sister, “What? Are you going to tell mom?”
“I will if you don’t clean this up,” Summerlyn replied.
“Oh my gosh, why are you so worked up about this, anyway?” Naomi asked, “You barely knew Uncle Ian.”
“I barely knew him?” Summerlyn asked, taking a step back, “Oh, right, you don’t pay attention to anything that's not on that phone of yours, huh? No, I knew Uncle Ian! More than you! He helped me apply for colleges and helped pay for my classes!”
Naomi held up her hands, “Oh wow, sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know every detail about your life, alright? Uncle Ian helped you and now you’re sad like mom, alright.”
Trevor nervously approached her from behind, “Hey, Naomi,” he began, “maybe we should just cle-”
“Are you taking her side?” Naomi asked, “Of course you would, of course!”
“What?” Trevor asked, “No, I’m not. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Boy, take it from me, you’re better off without her,” Summerlyn began.
Naomi glared at her. Don’t you fucking dare!
Trevor glanced at her, confused.
“Naomi doesn’t love you,” Summerlyn began, “she probably only asked you out as a dare or something. Trust me, you’re not her type and you will not be the one who changes her either. Trust me, just leave, and find someone else, someone who’d love you and-” she glanced at the shirt Trevor was wearing, “someone who wouldn’t mind talking about superheroes.”
Well, I guess Olivia won the bet, Naomi thought, thanks alot, sis.
Trevor, however, surprised her. He was trembling, the letter - or whatever it was - crumbled in his hand. At first Naomi was worried he was going to explode on them and took a step back, but no, the poor bastard stepped towards Summerlyn, his face red. “You stay quiet!” he shouted, surprising both Naomi and Summerlyn, “Don’t tell me who loves me and who doesn’t! I know Naomi and I are meant to be! And no one is going to tell me otherwise, alright!”
“Calm down!” Summerlyn shouted, raising her hands, “Calm down! Alright! You’re in love, I get-”
“No!” Trevor continued, “no, you don’t get it! For the first time in my life, I was asked out! If that’s not a sign, then I don’t know what is!”
Naomi gasped, noticing the paper in Trevor’s hand started to change, started to glow. At first, it was white, but soon burned red hot. Once she saw it, Summerlyn did too, and was freaking out, telling Trevor to drop it.
Unfortunately, Trevor didn’t notice, “Drop what? The fact that things are finally looking my way? Why wou-”
It all happened so fast. The paper burned bright, nearly blinding Naomi. There was a scream, although who was screaming, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly, the light vanished and the basement returned to normal. Except, there were only two people standing here now, Naomi herself, and Summerlyn who was looking down at herself as if she’d never seen her body before.
Naomi stepped forward, “Trevor?” she asked, her voice quivering. She didn’t see him, and couldn't find any trace of him anywhere. She looked around frantically, “Trevor!” she called again. What happened? Sure, he was a loser and she was going to dump his ass as soon as the month was over, but that didn’t mean she wanted him vaporized or whatever happened.
“Trevor!” Naomi screamed, tears stinging her eyes.
“I’m here,” Summerlyn breathed, hands over her breasts.
“Summerlyn, stop fucking around!” Naomi screeched, “Help me find where Trevor went!”
“Naomi, I’m here!” Summerlyn insisted, gesturing to herself, “I’m Trevor!”
Naomi blinked, “T-Trevor?” she asked.
Summerlyn nodded, “Yeah, yeah, it’s me! Uh…” Summerlyn, or Trevor, thought for a moment, “just earlier, I was telling you that I thought you’d make the perfect supergirl! Because you’re beautiful and blonde and-”
Naomi held up a hand, This… this can’t be happening! This isn’t real! she ran her hands through her hair, taking a breath in order to calm down. She looked around, finding no sign of that paper Trevor was holding earlier.
She did notice something else though, slumped over by the dusty furniture, was Trevor’s body. It landed a short distance away from Naomi and Summerlyn. Is Summerlyn in there? Naomi walked over to Trevor’s body and prodded it, wondering if, somehow, Summerlyn had ended up in Trevor’s body like how Trevor ended up in Summerlyn’s. No response.
Naomi checked and found that Trevor’s body was, thankfully, still breathing and still had a pulse, but it looked like no one was home. Naomi sighed, looking over at Summerlyn to see Trevor was fondling his new breasts through Summerlyn’s tank top. Of course that’s what you’re doing.
Naomi cleared her throat to get Trevor’s attention. To his credit, he did seem embarrassed when he saw Naomi notice him exploring her older sister’s body. “Help me get your body upstairs,” she said, ignoring where Trevor still had his hands, “quick, I don’t want my mom coming in and seeing us in here like this!”
That snapped Trevor out of his trance and he helped Naomi carry his body up stairs. Trevor’s body was a little on the heavier side, and Naomi wasn’t the biggest fan of his smell. It could be worse, but it also could have been better. Thankfully, while neither Naomi or Summerlyn were the strongest, they were able to carry Trevor’s body back up the stairs and into Naomi’s room where they propped up his body on the bed.
Naomi sighed, rubbing her arms, “How are you doing?” she asked.
Trevor gulped, “I’m not sure, honestly,” he replied, “it’s… it’s strange seeing myself from the outside like this.”
“Do you know where Summerlyn is?” Naomi asked, “She’s not in your body.”
“If I had to guess, she might still be in this body, but I’m currently in control or something.” Trevor flexed Summerlyn’s hands, watching the movement raptly, his gaze slowly moved from her hands to other parts of her body.
Naomi wasn’t sure why, but seeing him looking at her sister’s body like that was making her angry. Out of the people, why was it Summerlyn? Of course, the thought of Trevor in her body made her shiver, something Trevor thankfully didn’t notice as he was too busy looking down at Summerlyn’s body to notice what Naomi was doing grinning widely as he looked down Summerlyn’s shirt.
“Can you get out of her body?” Naomi snapped, coming out less of a question and more of a demand.
That snapped Trevor out of his daydreams and he, once again, looked abashedly at Naomi, he scratched the back of Summerlyn’s head, a sheepish smile on her face, “Uhh… I’m not sure.”
“Well,” Naomi paused for a moment, I am not letting you stay in my sisters body any longer than you already have, “can you figure something out? Like… try to imagine leaving her body and… I don’t know, do it?”
Trevor sighed, “Alright… I’ll…I’ll try.”
Trevor was silent for a moment, closing his eyes and looking deep in concentration. A minute passed, and then another. Naomi was beginning to feel frustrated, wondering if Trevor was even trying. He’s probably not, she thought sourly, crossing her arms, he probably just wants me to think he is so he can stay as Summerlyn a bit longer. She had just finished the thought when Summerlyn suddenly slumped over.
Naomi cried out, rushing towards Summerlyn to avoid her crashing to the floor just as Trevor’s body gasped. “It worked!” Trevor cried out.
“Glad to hear!” Naomi growled, making sure her sister didn’t hurt herself too much from the fall.
“Do you think she knows what happened?” Trevor asked, approaching the two of them.
“I don’t know,” Naomi replied truthfully. Although for your own sake, you’d better hope she doesn’t remember.
Summerlyn started to come to, blinking and waving Naomi and Trevor away, “Huh? What happened?”
“You nearly fainted earlier in the basement-!” Trevor said quickly, “Afterwards Naomi and I dragged you up here to see if you were alright. We were about to call someone when you started coming to.”
Summerlyn frowned, and shook her head, “Argh, alright, well,” she groaned as she stood up, placing her hands on her hips, “I don’t want either of you going into the basement anymore, alright? Neither of you have seen how mom’s been lately and I don’t think you two messing around down there will help her, alright?”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Alright, sis, whatever you say.”
Trevor nodded, “Alright.”
Summerlyn nodded, “Good, now… I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Summerlyn rubbed her head as she left Naomi’s room. Well it looks like she doesn’t remember what happened when Trevor was inside her, Naomi thought, probably for the best, I doubt she’d take that better than I would.
Her hands turned to fists by her side, speaking of which, she turned to Trevor, “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed what you were doing in my sister's body!” she hissed.
Trevor sucked in a breath and stepped back, holding his hands out in front of him, “Woah! Heh, heh, easy Naomi,” he gave a nervous chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, “look, I’m sorry about that, alright? I’ve never been a girl before, I’ve never had or touched boobs, I… just… didn’t think right.”
Naomi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, rather it was Summerlyn than me. she suppressed a shiver, would the thought of returning to his own body even occur to him without me pushing it onto him?
“Naomi,” Trevor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she had to stop herself from jerking out of his grasp, “I’m sorry. Really, I am. Can we, please put this all behind us?”
Naomi stared into his eyes. Where in the world would Uncle Ian get one of these things? Whatever, hopefully, now that the scroll - or whatever it was - is gone, she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. “Sure, let’s put this all behind us.”
Trevor grinned and hugged her. Naomi, reluctantly, returned his hug. Trevor was the one who broke it off, noticing the clock on her wall, “Oh, is it eight already? I need to get going,” he turned to her, “see you at school?”
Naomi nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see you at school.”
Naomi helped Trevor gather his belongings and saw him to the door as he started to walk back home. She sighed, curious about whether or not there were other scrolls down there in the basement. She considered going down there herself and checking, but decided against it, she’d already promised Summerlyn and if she found her down there again, well, she’d never hear the end of it.
Maybe mom knows what Uncle Ian was up to? Naomi thought. I should probably check on Summerlyn. Her sister left the door to her room open a crack and, peering through, Naomi saw Summerlyn was buried in a book, taking down notes for one of her classes. Of course she was.
Naomi considered texting Wren and Olivia what she and Trevor found in the basement, going as far as beginning to type it out, before deciding not to and deleting the message. She barely believed what happened and she was there to witness it herself, how would those two believe what she said?
Instead, she decided to open a blank journal and started writing things down. She had to, just to process what was happening, to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind. She had just finished writing when her mom, who’d gotten home some time earlier, called her and Summerlyn down to eat.
“Hey mom," Naomi began between bites.
“Hmm?” her mom grunted.
“What was it exactly that Great Uncle Ian did?”
Her mom made a face, “Why do you ask?”
“Trevor was wondering what he did?” Naomi lied.
Her mom sighed, “He liked to travel a lot. He told me how he backpacked across Europe and even the United States a few times and what he’s seen on those travels,” she chuckled to herself, “he’d brought back several souvenirs and wrote multiple blogs about the places he’d been and what he’d found. You know, when I was younger, he’d always insist he came across real magic out there in the world, hidden in places almost forgotten and yet, he managed to find them and bring them back with him.”
I guess he did find some magic afterall, Naomi thought, thanking her mom for dinner and heading back upstairs. She’d need to track down her uncle’s blogs, see if maybe there was an explanation for whatever happened in the basement. But, maybe that was something she’ll do for another time, since it was getting late and she was getting tired.
As Naomi got her things ready and left down the hall to take a shower, she noticed the door to Summerlyn’s room was closed. Odd, since she always left it a little open in case someone called for her. As Naomi passed by, she thought she heard the sound of Summerlyn’s phone camera going off. She shook her head, whatever, what Summerlyn was up to was none of her business.
Oh well. Naomi thought, crawling into bed. I just hope whatever happened to Trevor was just temporary. She shivered, the thought of him being able to just take over people's bodies like that. She had an idea of what he'd use them for and hoped that whatever happened was just a one time thing.
---
The next morning, Naomi woke up and got ready to go to school. She stopped by to check up on Summerlyn before she left, she couldn't explain why, but she was just worried more than usual.
Summerlyn was still asleep when Naomi walked in. She considered maybe trying to wake her up, but decided against it, no doubt she'd get an earful from Summerlyn about how disrespectful that is or something like that.
Guess I'll just check up on you again later. Naomi thought, going downstairs.
---
Olivia was already waiting for her when she walked through the doors into Milton High. Strangely, Wren was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was sick?
“Where's Wren?” Naomi asked.
Olivia rolled her eyes, “She said she had to run to the restroom, something about breakfast not agreeing with her or something.” Olivia shook her head, “Whatever. How're you and Trevor doing, by the way? How are you two holding up?”
Naomi resisted the urge to stick out her tongue in disgust, “He still thinks we're actually dating,” Olivia interrupted her to make a gagging sound, Naomi couldn't say she disagreed, “you should listen to him talk, so disgusting. It's worse than when he talks non stop about those annoying superheroes or whatever it is he cares about.”
“Oh?” Olivia began, getting closer, “What does he say? The disgusting stuff, I don't care about anything else.”
Naomi smiled, and looked around to make sure Trevor wasn't nearby to overhear her, “He keeps talking about girls and what he would do if he got to the point where they had sex.”
Olivia gasped.
Naomi continued, smiling as she recounted her horrible first “date” with him, “You know, he asked me what kind of woman I was and what I expected him to do in our relationship? Well, since I didn't want to get dumped by him I had to play into it and said I would do the housework and cook while he gets to be treated as a king all day. He ate that up hook, line, and sinker. Then he asked about sex! Just like that! No other conversation! Just sex! Sex! Sex!” Naomi sighed, "What's worse is that afterwards, he just keeps rambling on and on about anime and superheroes."
Olivia was barely able to stand from laughing so much, “Oh my! Naomi I almost feel sorry for you for making you do this!”
“You will be sorry when I win this bet and you have to do something for me.” Naomi replied.
“Hey girls!” Wren greeted, walking over to them, “What are you all talking about?”
“Oh you're not going to believe this,” Olivia began, still laughing, “Naomi's been telling us all about what she and Trevor have been doing lately!”
“Ooh!” Wren exclaimed, “What do you think about Trevor?”
Olivia laughed, “The dude's a creep! He's even more of a loser than I thought he was! Sex this! Sex that!”
Wren frowned, “Oh? Is that what you think of him?”
Olivia shrugged, “As much as I know about him, anyway. You know, Trevor looks alright, a bit short maybe, but that personality just really kills it!”
Wren made a face and stepped closer, “You think all that before even getting to know him?”
Olivia held up her hands in mock surrender and chuckled, “Woah, relax Wren, I'm just having some fun! Trevor's a little weirdo! That's all there is to him really, he just thinks about women he likes and that's it. Not even in a good way either.”
Wren scoffed, “is that so?”
Olivia sighed in exasperation, “Oh my god, Wren! I don't know why you're so mad about this! I'm going to see if the cafeterias are still serving breakfast, if you want to calm down and talk to me you can find me there, alright?”
With that, Olivia left. Naomi stared after her, mouth dry. She turned over to Wren who watched Olivia with anger and sadness in her eyes. Except Naomi wasn’t sure that was Wren behind those eyes.
Wren turned to her, noticing Naomi staring, “What?” She asked.
There's no way… “Trevor?” Naomi began hesitantly, “Is… is that you?”
Wren grinned, “Yup!” Trevor admitted, fist pumping the air, “it's me!” he chuckled, “I still have the powers that scroll gave me, it's insane! Hey, I used them on Ms. Shaw earlier and used them to steal the answers for today's quiz!”
Naomi felt her skin crawl. Olivia said Wren went to the bathroom earlier, was that when Trevor possessed her? Or did that happen earlier? She shivered, thinking about what he might have done when he was alone.
Naomi crossed her arms beneath her breasts, “Trevor,” she began, “Please get our of my friend.”
Trevor blinked and then chuckled, “Oh, yeah! I… really should get back to my body before school starts, huh? Come with me, I left my body in the boys bathroom.”
Naomi sighed and followed Trevor. She was barely paying attention as he excitedly told her some of the questions and answers to the quiz. She focused more on what he might have done and what he will probably do.
“Is something wrong?” Trevor asked as they stopped in front of the boys bathroom.
“Hmm?” Naomi asked, “Oh, nothing! It's fine, I was just… wondering about your powers.”
Trevor chuckled, “I've been wondering about them too and I've been trying to test out the limits, but I think I'll save that for another day. Do me a favor and catch Wren, will you? I don't want to hurt her sweet body.”
Before Naomi could answer, Wren suddenly slumped forward and Naomi leapt to catch Wren before she fell to the floor. She held her up as Wren slowly regained consciousness, “Ugh… what? Naomi? Where am I?”
“Wren?” Naomi asked, “You've… passed out earlier with Olivia. I was taking you to the nurse when you started waking up!” Trevor, I am going to kill you!
Wren grumbled, shaking her head. Please believe me. She blinked, looking around, “What time is it?” she winced, “I think I'll go see the nurse myself, thanks for carrying me all this way.” She waved away Naomi and walked off, heading in the direction of the nurse’s office.
With that, Trevor came out of the bathroom, smiling. “She didn't remember anything! Heh heh! Can you believe that?”
“Yeah…” Naomi began, “that's really something.” She hoped her expression didn’t let slip the amount of disgust she was feeling.
“Hey Naomi,” Trevor began, sobering up, “I… need to ask you an important question.”
Naomi managed to keep a neutral expression as she turned to look at him, “What's that?” She asked, suddenly worried.
“Earlier, when Olivia was talking shit about me… how come you kept silent?”
Naomi froze. How much did he overhear? Did he know Naomi was the one who told Olivia about all those things? Or did he think Olivia was the one who said all that herself? What will he do if he finds out the truth? Naomi could feel herself starting to sweat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anything to say, either in denial, or in deflection.
Trevor sighed, looking heartbroken, taking her hesitation as something else entirely “It's… whatever. I'll see you after school, alright?”
“Alright.” Naomi replied, her heart pounding as she watched him go. That… that was close.
---
The rest of the day Naomi had trouble focusing on anything her teachers were saying, whatever, she could probably just ask one of her other classmates for notes. She was too busy thinking about what was happening with Trevor. What the hell was her great uncle getting up to? Did Uncle Ian have anything else like that hidden among his belongings? Could she find something to possibly reverse this?
The power to just take over someone’s body was freaky enough as is, but the thought of Trevor of all people having it just made her skin crawl. On their first day, Trevor told her all the things he loves about a woman, with one of the top things being her body, and how he can’t stop himself from looking no matter how hard he tries.
Jeez, the boy had no tack and was just overall unpleasant to be around. A shame, too, Naomi thought, I bet he honestly thought he was complimenting me by going on and on about how beautiful I am. Naomi suppressed a smirk, the truth was that she was flattered at first, but his constant pointing out of her looks lost their charm very quickly.
“Naomi Walker!”
Naomi came crashing down back into reality, “Huh?”
Her teacher, Mr. Gray, sighed, rubbing his temples, “I was asking if you knew how to solve this equation…”
Naomi felt her face grow warm as she glanced at the whiteboard and had no idea what on earth she was looking at, “No,” she admitted, “I do not.” That earned a round of snickers from her other classmates.
Mr. Gray shook his head, “Rachel Smith, you’re up.”
Great. Naomi thought, letting her mind wander again. Now Trevor’s making things difficult in other ways as well.
---
Lunch couldn’t come quick enough. Naomi gathered her things and headed off quickly, wanting nothing more to regroup with Wren and Olivia. She thought about telling them about the situation, but decided against it. There’s no way they’ll believe me, Naomi thought, I can still just barely believe this is happening and I was there to see it happen twice! I need to find out more about Uncle Ian, if nothing else, he’ll be the one with any answers
At least she could, hopefully, relax around them for a bit. Maybe Olivia would have some gossip to help her take her mind off things for a while. After grabbing her lunch, Naomi noticed Olivia sitting at a different spot than usual even though their table was empty. Naomi swallowed, He wouldn't. her nervousness gave way to anger the closer she got, her shoes hitting the ground harder and harder with each step. He. Fucking. Wouldn't.
“Olivia” turned to her as she approached. She had an uncharacteristic big grin on her face and her hands were… Fucking Trevor! her hands were groping her own breasts.
“HI Naomi!” Trevor greeted from inside Olivia's body, “You won't be-”
“Get out.” Naomi ordered.
Trevor smiled, taking his hands off Olivia's breasts, “Woah! Woah!” He began, “No need to get so angry with me, alright? I just don't think Olivia's that good of a friend for you! I mean, what kind of friend badmouths their other friends' boyfriends? I mean, you heard the things she was saying about me.”
“Get. Out.” Naomi repeated.
“That's not all,” Trevor continued, ignoring Naomi, “I checked her phone earlier, did you know she has some dirt on you and Wren as well? I couldn't believe it myself and I was the one who found it-”
“Trevor.” Naomi growled, finally getting him to shut up and listen, “Get. Out. Of. Her. Body. Now!”
Trevor blinked, and looked away, “Alright,” he said, his voice low, “but… can you promise me something?”
“What?” Naomi snapped.
Trevor looked back at her, “Can you defend me next time?” he paused before continuing, “I'm not asking for much, at least I don't think I am. But when she was talking shit about me, you just stood there and let her keep talking.”
Naomi blinked, this fucking guy… She knew he had a point. Even she could see that, but given his actions so far, it seemed Olivia had a point. But right now wasn't a good time to confront him about any of this.
She nodded, “Alright,” she conceded, “I'll tell Olivia to stop picking on you.”
Trevor smiled and then Olivia started shaking, her eyes rolling back before she gasped and nearly fell on the table. Trevor was gone, most likely returning to his own body, wherever that was.
“Ugh,” Olivia moaned, rubbing her head, “How the hell did I get here?”
“What's wrong?” Naomi asked.
“Naomi?” Olivia asked, noticing her, “Last thing I remember was being in fifth period when everything just went…” Olivia's eyes widened and her face went red. Her hands felt at her chest before dropping down below her waist. Her face paled almost instantly.
Naomi gulped, a faint idea of what happened already forming in her head, “Is everything alright?”
“Where the fuck are my panties?” Olivia hissed, going even redder.
Naomi coughed, Trevor was really pushing his luck with her. Looking closer at Olivia's shirt, it wasn't just her bra he took off either. No, she saw the way her breasts were hanging and how they moved around when Olivia turned. Her bra was gone as well.
“Shit!” Olivia hissed, standing up and looking around, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“Calm down!” Naomi whispered, “Do you… happen to have any spares?”
Olivia nodded, “I have some panties in my locker… I'll be back.”
Olivia shuffled off just as Wren came by, placing her tray down as she looked in, confused as to why Olivia was practically running out of the cafeteria.
Wren gave Naomi a look, “What's up with her?”
Naomi sighed, she knew telling the truth was not an option. “Wardrobe malfunction,” she replied, “she's getting some spare clothes from her locker.”
Wren grunted, “You doing alright, Naomi? You've been quiet today.”
Naomi stared at Wren for a while. She was acting like herself, and hadn't groped her breasts so far. “Just thinking about Trevor,” Naomi admitted, “he's been a hassle lately.”
“Going to dump him early?”
Naomi shook her head, “I don't think that's a good idea, he's…” Fuck, what should I say here?, “gotten a hold of something embarrassing of mine and I'm afraid if I dump him he'll tell everyone.”
Wren wrinkled her nose, “Ouch, he's really the type who would do that?” she gave a sympathetic squeeze to Naomi’s hand, “I'm sorry I ever went to bat for him. Well, whatever happens, Olivia and I will be here for you.”
Naomi smiled, but remembered Trevor's words that Olivia kept dirt on her and Wren in her phone. It didn't seem like he was lying either, as he'd offered to show her the proof and even delete it. I don't think Olivia will stand by me, Naomi thought. It was silly, of course she wouldn't. Still, that didn't mean Naomi wanted something like this to happen to her. She looked back at Wren who gave her a supportive smile and returned it. Wren might be different though, but Naomi wasn’t sure.
What she was sure about was that she needed to find out about what her uncle had. Luckily Trevor will be staying after school today for one of his stupid clubs, that meant Naomi would have a chance to look through her uncle's belongings and search for his blog on the internet,
So she did just that. After school, she went straight home and saw she would be alone for a few hours. Her parents were still working and Summerlyn had an evening class today.
Damn, Naomi thought, I was hoping to ask mom what she knew about Uncle Ian, hopefully she'll be back soon. No matter.* At least that meant she was able to search the basement without much issue.
At least, that's what she thought until she tried the door and found it locked. Ugh! Summerlyn!
Naomi pounded on the door out of frustration before growling, heading to Summerlyn’s room, hoping she'd find the key.
Thankfully, Summerlyn’s room didn't have a lock so getting in wasn't an issue. The issue then became finding the key, hopefully Summerlyn didn't take it with her. The bed and the desk weren't of any use, although as she checked under the bed she was surprised to see some of Summerlyn’s clothes just tossed underneath. Normally her sister would just toss them in the laundry bin.
Whatever. She checked her dresser and found the key in the third drawer. Afterwards she left to go down the basement.
It still looked the same as it did yesterday, with some of the furniture slightly moved as Naomi and Trevor looked through her uncle's belongings.
She started at the box where Trevor pulled that scroll from. Inside were some maps, a few souvenirs from other places her uncle had visited, but no other scrolls.
At the bottom of the box was an old journal. Naomi grabbed it and flipped through it, grinning as she realized it was a journal her uncle kept to record his travels. Hopefully, Uncle Ian would have written about something like this.
She searched through his other belongings, but that turned out to be a bust. So, with only a journal for her efforts, Naomi returned the basement key to Summerlyn’s room and started reading through the journal in her room.
Naomi would gather from the journal, as well as from her mom and Summerlyn, that her uncle didn't travel alone. He had someone else with him, a friend named Tom. Together the two of them traveled across the world, going across the United States, to Europe, and Asia as well.
From the journal, Naomi found out her uncle and Tom came across these scrolls as they were exploring an old ruin they found in a forest in Europe. Unfortunately, if they ever found out what these things were and what they did, her uncle didn't write them down.
All he wrote down was that he thought they were neat and he took one while his friend took several. So if I want to find out more about what's going on and how to stop Trevor, I'll need to find where Tom is and hope he knows anything about these scrolls.
It took her a while to find her uncle’s blog, but after an hour, she came across it. The blog detailed her uncle and Tom’s journey across the world, staring at the United States and how they traveled to Europe with little except what they could fit in their backpacks. She skipped ahead, seeing her uncle took several pictures of himself and Tom as they traveled along the world.
She came across an entry where her uncle and Tom decided to explore a forest somewhere in the United Kingdom. There, they came across the remains of a stone tower hidden deep in the forest and he had several photos of what they found inside, numerous old books rotting on bookshelves, strange symbols written on the walls, and, to her horror, several scrolls thrown about the tables.
There were a few comments on this blog post, with some commenters asking where exactly they were as they lived closeby, but had never encountered this stone tower ever before in their lives. Her blood ran cold when she saw her uncle responding to these comments, saying he’d tried to go back a few days later, but could not find where he and Tom stumbled upon the tower.
Her mom’s words echoed in her head, how Uncle Ian believed there was still magic out there hidden in the world and that he brought some back home with him. He did, Naomi thought, shutting off her laptop, he really did.
She wrote down everything she discovered in her journal. So far, it was the only thing keeping her sane, assuring her that all of this was actually real. She hid the journal in one of the drawers in her dresser before getting ready for bed.
The next day, before school, Naomi approached her mom and asked Tom, Uncle Ian’s friend.
“Of course I know about him,” her mom replied, “Why, he and Uncle Ian were practically inseparable when they were younger! Why?”
“I just wanted to learn more about Uncle Ian,” Naomi lied, “I feel like I never got to him. I was wondering if maybe Tom would tell me any stories about what he and Uncle Ian got up to.”
“Oh,” her mom replied sadly, “well… I'm afraid it's a little too late for that. Tom passed away a little while ago,”
Naomi grew cold, “What happened to him?”
“It was terrible,” her mom continued, “he and his daughter were in a car crash.”
Naomi leaned against the table to prevent herself from stumbling back. Her mom asked her what was wrong, but her words were meaningless buzzing to Naomi's ears. No! Naomi squeezed her eyes shut, He was the only one who would have had any answers!
“Naomi!” her mom said, grabbing her softly on the arm.
Naomi gasped, but returned to reality.
“Naomi…” her mom began, “What's wrong?”
“It's nothing.” she lied. “Nothing.”
Numb. She grabbed her backpack and went to school.
---
Trevor came back with her to her house. He was giddy, eagerly showing her the notes and other materials he managed to grab while he possessed their teachers' bodies.
“Here's the answer sheet for our history final,” Trevor said, grinning, “You're welcome for this, by the way, I know history is your worst subject.”
Naomi nodded, thanking Trevor listlessly as he went on about some of the other stuff he got up to with his new powers. She knew he was keeping some stuff from her, there was no way someone like him wouldn’t have misused those powers. He took over Wren and Olivia. The thought of what he did to Olivia made Naomi’s hands turn into fists by her side.
“Why did you take off Olivia's underwear?” Naomi asked, cutting him off.
Trevor rolled his eyes, “This again? Look, I might've gone too far with that one, but she isn't a good person. I already told you, and I just thought she needed to learn a lesson.”
“She had to walk around without a bra for the rest of the day, Trevor.”
Trevor actually laughed at that one, “I can tell you there were a few people who enjoyed that.”
“You told people?”
Trevor sighed, “Just a few, and besides, she deserved it! She's been talking shit about us for months, it was time someone knocked her down a peg!”
Naomi rubbed her temples, “And that someone had to be you, right?”
Trevor stood up, throwing his hands in the air, “I don't need to take this right now! I'm taking a five minute break, alright? Let me know when you're ready to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Naomi snapped as Trevor went to the door.
“Like I'm gross!” Trevor shouted, “like I'm a bug! You and Olivia both! You have that same look in your eye that she did, drop her and I'm sure we'll be better off for it!”
With that, he left, slamming the door behind him. Naomi rolled her eyes, and sighed. She needed to calm down, right now wasn't the best time to antagonize him, no matter how much he deserved it. Who knows what will be his breaking point and he decides to use his powers on her.
She looked down, noticing he left his phone on her bed. She couldn't help herself and opened it, as he'd told her his password.
There were several texts from some of his friends in his after school club, each one thanking him for telling them about Olivia's wardrobe incident with a few of them asking how he knew about it. So he's been keeping his powers a secret too. Naomi thought.
Each text made her stomach churn as each boy talked about how much they liked seeing Olivia like that and even asking Trevor if he could target some of the other girls as well. Thankfully, Trevor declined, but did ask if any of them would like a copy of the answer sheets to some upcoming tests.
Naomi checked his photo gallery next and nearly dropped his phone when she saw what was on it. There were numerous pictures of other girls in their grade in various states of undress. No doubt Trevor possessed them and made them take these pictures and send them to himself.
She nearly gagged when she came across the photos Trevor took of Olivia as well as Summerlyn. Olivia's seemed to be taken in one of the bathroom stalls and she was completely naked at one point, showing her pussy to the camera as well as showing her bra and panties being flushed down the toilet.
Summerlyn was similar as well. Several pictures were taken of her in various pieces of clothing before she became naked and flashed her bits to the camera. That night, Naomi thought, when I heard in her room, that was Trevor.
Before she could fully process what she was seeing, the door opened and Trevor paused when he saw his phone in her hands. Her shock made her drop his phone and it landed face up, showing that Naomi was looking through his gallery.
Trevor didn’t even get a word in before Naomi spoke, “What the hell?” Despite the emotions raging through her, those words were barely louder than a whisper.
“Listen, I can-”
“No!” Naomi cut off, raising her voice and getting off her bed and throwing his phone at him, “Get out! Now!”
Trevor backed up as she got closer, “Naomi, wait-!”
“Get out!” Naomi screeched, “I don't want to see you ever again! Those girls! My sister! Olivia! Get out, Trevor!”
Trevor didn’t move, just standing there as Noami shoved against him. He growled, standing his ground, but Naomi was stronger than he thought.
Naomi slapped him, but Trevor grabbed her arm before it landed. Naomi grunted, her chest tightening as she tried to yank her arm free, but Trevor kept it in an iron grip.
“I came across some interesting stuff in Olivia's phone when I possessed her,” Trevor began, “Is…” his voice broke slightly before he continued, “was our relationship… did it really begin as a dare?”
Naomi scoffed and yanked her hand back before shoving Trevor. He stumbled back, shocked. “Yes.” Naomi admitted, “Did you actually think otherwise?”
Trevor swallowed, his face hardening, “So you're just like them then. I thought you'd be different!”
Naomi laughed, you can't be serious, “Pfft! I'm just like them? All of them?”
“It's because of girls like you that never give people like me a chance!”
Naomi rolled her eyes, “Please. You wanna know why none of the other girls never wanted anything to do with you? Why Olivia talked shit about you? It's because you're gross! All you see when you look at a woman is her body! Why else do you have all those pictures on your phone? That's all you care about, just seeing them naked! Getting your rocks off by looking at those pictures you send to yourself!”
The entire time Naomi tore into Trevor, his face hardened and turned red. It was almost funny really how sad and pathetic he looked when he was angry and genuinely trying to look intimidating.
However, as Naomi stepped closer, Trevor’s body suddenly went limp and slumped to the floor. Naomi blinked and knew what was happening. Oh no.
She shuddered, a feeling of pins and needles overtaking her as her vision went black.
---
Finally, Trevor thought as he opened his eyes to see himself in Naomi's body, I managed to shut her up.
He looked down on his own body and decided to leave it there for now. It would still be some time until Naomi's mom and sister got home and so he had the time to do whatever he wanted to with her body.
He didn't waste any time either. You never let me get to second base, he thought, a wicked smile on his lips, I think it's time that changes. He touched Naomi's breasts through her clothes. They weren't as big as some of the other girls he possessed, most notably Summerlyn and Olivia, but he appreciated how they felt in his hands right now. But how much better did they look?
He ripped off Naomi's shirt eagerly, grinning as her white bra was revealed. Oh Naomi, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this! Trevor thought, grinning as his hands once again went to her breasts, kneading them with the bra.
He sighed, feeling something going on between her legs. That sensation happened a lot while he was exploring the bodies of the girls he possessed. It was like getting an erection with a penis, but… different.
Naomi's pants came off next, followed by her socks. Her panties matched her bra, white, and Trevor hesitated briefly as his fingers dug beneath the fabric. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore, she made that more than clear, but still… the thought of seeing her naked was making him warm and dizzy.
He chuckled as he threw off her panties and collapsed on the bed as her bra followed shortly afterwards. Where's her phone? Trevor thought, I need to see how she looks! He found it and turned on her camera, changing to selfie mode and held it against his new body.
She was beautiful, but Trevor knew that already. Pale skin laid bare before him, her nipples the color of cherries and were hard and sensitive as his fingers brushed over them. He bit his lips, legs squirming, Fuck! Her tits aren't as large as Summerlyn’s, but they're sensitive!
He angled the phone to look between her legs. A neatly trimmed patch of hair greeted him, covering the entrance to her pussy which was very wet and he opened her pussy lips, his finger sliding in easily. He arched his back, biting hard on his lip to prevent himself from crying out loud.
Fuck! Trevor gasped, recovering from that sensation, That was… way different from a penis!
He licked his lips, trying to calm down. So far he'd only taken pictures of these girls to save for later when he returned to his own body. The thought of masturbating as them though… that made his face warm.
Trevor looked down at Naomi's pussy. It felt good when he accidentally slipped a finger inside, what if he tried to feel around- Holy-!
That must be the clitoris! Trevor wasn't able to stop himself, shouting out loudly as he flicked Naomi's clit, and started working it. His legs thrashed about, his free hand going to one of her breasts, rubbing against a still erect nipple. He could feel the pressure building and while he'd never orgasmed as a girl before, he knew what it was as it approached.
He cried out as the orgasm overtook him, coming along much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced as a guy. He gasped as the climax left him behind, letting him recover. I can't feel my legs. Trevor thought.
He glanced over at his body, still laying there. He had to think, if he left Naomi alone, she might cause problems for him in the future. Maybe there's a way for him to get around that.
Her phone provided a good solution. A few pictures of her naked for later was always appreciated, and it might be good to use to stop her from interfering with his plans. Of course, if that wasn't enough, he took a few pictures of Naomi with his dick in her hands as well as his mouth. It felt… strange to have a penis in his mouth, not something he'd want to do again.
Serves you right. Trevor thought, sending the photos to his phone and then making sure the evidence was deleted from her phone.
---
When Naomi came to, she found herself alone in her room, fully clothed. Trevor was gone and almost an hour had passed. What did he make me do? Naomi wondered, her mouth dry.
Her phone dinged. She reached for it hesitantly and took in a sharp breath through clenched teeth when she saw Trevor’s name appear on her screen. He sent her a text.
Trevor: If you don't want pictures like these circulating around the school, you'll do well to leave me alone.
Trevor: Thanks for the fun time though. ;)
Attached was a picture of her naked body with Trevor's dick in her mouth.
Naomi nearly dropped her phone.
mtf
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Chapter by
smatster · 09 Dec 2025 -
The couples experience a day in their new cohabitation.
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The morning sun warmed the path along the cliffs, the salt air sharp and clean. Frank and Amy—or rather, the quartet within them—set off at a steady pace, their new, tight athletic gear leaving little to the imagination. Frank’s grey tee clung to the sweat already beading on his chest, his shorts showcasing the powerful shift of his thighs and the prominent bulge between them. Amy’s black leggings were a second skin, tracing every curve and swell, the compression top holding her breasts firmly, proudly.
This is incredible, Claire thought, her consciousness sharing the pilot’s seat with Frank as they ran. She felt the raw power of Frank’s legs driving them forward, the heavy, rhythmic swing of his cock within the confines of the shorts. I feel so strong.
You are strong, Frank thought back, his mental voice full of fond pride. You’re running a seven-minute mile in my body. Ease up on the calves a little.
Ahead of them, Amy’s body moved with a fluid, dancing grace that was entirely Will’s aggressive stride filtered through Amy’s natural athleticism. But there was a flair to it now—hips swinging a little extra, arms pumping with a feminine elegance.
What are you doing? Amy’s mental voice was amused from her perch in Will’s lap in their shared mind.
Giving them a show, Will thought back, a smirk in his mental tone. He made their body glance back over a slender shoulder, a flash of a grin, then poured on a burst of speed, rounding a bend where the path dipped toward a stand of dense, wind-sculpted cypress.
Follow them, Claire urged, and Frank didn’t hesitate. They rounded the bend to find the path momentarily empty. Then, a low whistle came from the bushes.
“Over here.”
They pushed through the foliage into a small, hidden hollow, shielded from the path. Amy was there, leaning against a broad tree trunk, breathing heavily, a wicked glint in her eyes—all Will.
“Got bored of the run,” Will said, using Amy’s voice, his hands running possessively over Amy’s hips. “Thought we’d play.”
Frank’s body responded instantly, the thick length in his shorts twitching to full, straining hardness. Claire felt it like a live wire. Oh.
Without a word, Frank—with Claire’s eager assent—shoved his shorts down, then helped Will peel Amy’s leggings and underwear …
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