The Louisiana sun was a heavy, damp blanket as Daniel “Danny” Englewood trudged along the shortcut through the woods behind his apartment complex. It was the same path he took every day to and from his bartending gig at Sally’s. Average day, average heat, average sweat soaking through his average t-shirt.

A glint of unnatural silver caught his eye off the trail, nestled in a tangle of Spanish moss and palmetto fronds. Curiosity, that old troublemaker, poked at him. He veered off, pushing aside a branch to get a better look.

It was a canister, about the size of a thermos, but made of a seamless, pearlescent metal that seemed to drink the light rather than reflect it. No logos, no seams, just a smooth surface that felt cool and slightly oily to the touch. Weird. Probably some fancy hiker’s water bottle they’d dropped.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. There was a faint, almost imperceptible hum. Probably just the blood in my ears, he thought. With a grunt, he tried to twist the cap. Nothing. He wedged it against a tree root and gave it a sharp knock with the heel of his hand.

Hiss.

The cap popped off with a sound like a sigh. Danny peered inside. It was dark, but something moved. Something wet.

A purplish, gelatinous slug, shimmering with internal light, surged up the neck of the canister with shocking speed. Before Danny could even gasp, it launched itself into his open mouth.

“Glllk—!” The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. It wasn’t slimy or gross; it was warm, thick, and sweet, like swallowing heated honey. A wave of intense, euphoric pleasure radiated from his throat down his spine, making his knees buckle. He stumbled back against a tree, a low moan escaping him as his body shuddered. His vision swam with purple spots, and his thoughts melted into a warm, fuzzy static. The last thing he felt was an incredible, full-body tingling, as if every nerve was being gently rewired, followed by a profound sense of… connection. To what, he didn’t know.

Then, blackness.

***

Danny came to with a start, sprawled on the pine needles. The late afternoon sun dappled through the trees. He sat up, groaning and rubbing his temples. His mouth felt… fine. Normal. Great, even.

“What the hell?” he mumbled to the empty woods. The strange canister was gone. Had he dreamed it? A super-vivid, weirdly pleasurable dream about a space slug? That sounded like something Justin would come up with after one too many energy drinks.

He got to his feet, brushing dirt and leaves off his jeans. He felt good. Really good. Energized. His muscles felt taut, his senses sharp. He chalked it up to the weird nap. As he resumed his walk home to shower before work, he didn’t notice the subtle new definition in his arms, the way his jeans seemed a fraction tighter in the thigh. He certainly didn’t think to check if his cock, now resting comfortably in his boxers, was a solid inch longer and thicker than it had been that morning. His sex drive, usually a steady background hum, now felt like a tuned engine, ready to roar. He just felt… above average.

A quick shower, a change into his standard black work shirt and jeans, and he was out the door, the strange event in the woods already fading into the realm of bizarre dreams. He had a shift to work.

The familiar scent of stale beer, fried food, and pine-scented cleaner hit him as he pushed through the back door of Sally’s Bar & Grill. The dinner crowd was starting to trickle in—a few regulars at the bar, some families in the booths.

“You’re late, Englewood,” a smooth, husky voice called out. Sally Birch emerged from the office, a clipboard in hand. She was, as always, a sight to stop a man in his tracks. Early forties, with curves that defied both gravity and sensible clothing, poured into a tight maroon blouse and jeans that hugged her wide hips and round, generous ass. Her chestnut hair was up in a messy bun, and her sharp green eyes appraised him. “By thirty seconds. Try to contain your rebellion.”

“Sorry, boss,” Danny said with an easy grin, slipping behind the bar. “Got waylaid by… uh, wildlife.”

“Just don’t get rabies,” she said, but the corner of her mouth twitched. She was a hardass, but a fair one.

The other presence behind the bar was Luna Pech, who was wiping down tables with a fluid grace. At twenty-two, Luna was the bar’s secret weapon. Dressed in the same black staff shirt, she somehow made it look like haute couture, the fabric straining over her spectacular chest and clinging to her narrow waist before flaring out over her perfectly rounded, jiggly backside. She looked up and gave Danny a bright, dimpled smile.

“Hey Danny! You okay? You look kinda flushed.”

“Do I?” Danny said, feeling a strange, new warmth in his gut as he looked at her. It was more than his usual appreciation of her beauty; it was a deep, possessive pull. He pushed the feeling down. “Just hot out. Ready to mix some drinks.”

The night proceeded normally for about an hour. Danny poured beers, mixed simple cocktails, and bantered with customers. But he was hyper-aware of the women around him. Sally’s scent—perfume, shampoo, and her—seemed to fill his nostrils whenever she was near. He caught himself staring at the sway of Luna’s ass as she carried a tray, a hungry thought unfolding in his mind that was far more direct than his usual shy admiration.

And then, something shifted.

Sally was leaning over the bar to point out a spill to him, her blouse gaping slightly to offer a breathtaking view of her deep cleavage. A wave of that same sweet, honeyed scent from the woods—but coming from him—wafted between them.

Sally froze. Her eyes dilated. A sharp, sudden intake of breath. She straightened up slowly, her hand going to her stomach. “Danny,” she breathed, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I… I need you in the office. Now.”

“What? Why? Is there a—”

“Now.” The word was a throaty command, but her face was flushed, her lips parted. She wasn’t looking at his face anymore. Her gaze was locked, with primal intensity, on the front of his jeans.

Before he could process it, she grabbed his wrist. Her grip was iron-strong. She pulled him from behind the bar, past a confused Luna, and into the small, cluttered back office, slamming the door shut and locking it.

The office was dim, lit only by a dusty desk lamp. File boxes were piled in the corner. Sally turned to him, her chest heaving. The sharp, competent businesswoman was gone. In her place was a creature of pure, frenzied need. Her eyes were glazed, her nipples visibly hard points against the fabric of her blouse.

“Sally, what’s—mmph!”

She kissed him. It was a desperate, hungry clash of lips and tongue, her hands fumbling at his belt. He was too shocked to resist, the strange energy in his own body surging in response. His cock, already half-hard from the charged atmosphere, sprang to full, throbbing attention as she yanked his jeans and boxers down.

“Need it,” she panted against his mouth, her voice a ragged whisper. “Need you… inside…”

She shoved him back into the creaky office chair and dropped to her knees, taking his entire length into her warm, wet mouth in one go. Danny cried out, his head falling back. It was too good, too intense. Her skilled tongue and desperate suction had him on the edge in seconds. She sucked him like a woman possessed, like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

With a guttural groan, she pulled off, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his shining tip. She stood, her fingers making quick work of her own jeans button and zipper. She shoved them down her thick thighs, along with her lace panties, merely moving the fabric aside to expose her neatly trimmed patch and her glistening, pink folds. She was soaked.

Without a word, she straddled him on the chair, guiding his cock to her entrance. She sank down onto him in one smooth, deep motion, sheathing him completely in her incredibly tight, wet heat. A ragged, broken cry tore from her throat.

“Fuck! Yes! Fuck!” she screamed, not caring who heard. She began to ride him, hard and fast, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her breasts bounced wildly, threatening to escape her blouse. Danny could only hold on, his own mind short-circuiting from the dual sensations—the incredible feel of her tight cunt milking him, and the bizarre, intoxicating power he felt radiating from his own skin, directed at her.

He was lost in her. The rhythm, the sweat, the smell of sex and her perfume. He felt his climax coiling, unstoppable. Sally’s movements were becoming jerky, animalistic. Her eyes were rolled back, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. She wasn’t Sally anymore. She was just a body, a beautiful, curvaceous vessel being driven by a base, overwhelming instinct to be filled by him.

“I’m gonna… Sally, I’m gonna cum!” he grunted.

“Do it!” she shrieked, slamming down onto him one last time. “Fill me! Please!”

The orgasm ripped through Danny like a lightning bolt. As he pulsed inside her, he felt a bizarre, physical detachment. Not just ejaculation, but a part of him launching from his cock, a warm, living mass that shot deep into her quivering core.

Sally’s body went rigid. A high, keening whine escaped her lips. Her hands flew to her own breasts, squeezing them roughly through her blouse as her back arched violently. Her pussy convulsed around him, gushing with her own climax. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, pupils consumed by a vivid, glowing purple light for a split second before shutting tight, her face frozen in a mask of transcendent pleasure.

And then… Danny felt it.

He felt the sticky vinyl of the office chair beneath his ass. He felt the aching, wonderful sensitivity of his own spent cock, still buried inside a warm, pulsing channel.

And at the exact same time, he felt the rough fabric of the blouse under her fingertips, the heavy, delicious weight of her full breasts in her hands, the aftershocks of an incredible orgasm rippling through her pelvis.

His eyes flew open. He was looking through his own eyes at Sally’s blissed-out face, inches from his.

He also was Sally, looking down through her eyes at his own stunned, euphoric expression.

Two sets of sensory input. Two bodies. One mind.

Holy shit, he thought, the realization dawning with exhilarating, terrifying clarity. The dream was real. And I’m not just in here anymore.

He was in the office chair.

He was also in Sally.

Quick Actions:
1. Panic and try to separate your consciousness from Sally’s body.
2. Stay calm and experimentally move Sally’s body, fascinated by this new control.
3. Focus on the sensations in both bodies, reveling in the dual pleasure as you try sex again in both bodies
4. Have ‘Sally’ get off your lap and examine ‘her’ new body in the office mirror.
5. Use Sally’s memories to gain her knowledge and abilities.
6. Call out for Luna to see if she can help explain what’s happening .