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Here's a RWBY incest fanfiction that I drawed up. Now, before entering, I must warn you of the content within: there will be violence. There will be blood. There will be murder. There will be incestuous relations. There will be heartbreak (probably). And there will be Sprite. If ANY of that is too uncomfortable for you, please look elsewhere. Everyone else, happy reading.Also, this is serving as a prototype for mixing story and porn. Both are great on their own, but together, they're unmatched. So I wanna try my hand with it. So hopefully, ya like it....alright, dassitdassall.
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This Shudder one shot takes place between Shudder: The College Years and The Last Shapeshifter. I have tried to write all but the epilogue in a way that if you haven't read those you'll be able to understand what's going on.
It was Richard Johnson’s birthday, and he was a man on a mission. He was going to pick up a beautiful woman in a hotel bar using only his appearance and charm. He hadn’t needed to rely on those attributes in a very long time, but still managed to have a different woman in his bed every night. That was one of the perks to being married to a bodyhopper.
For the ten years that she’d been a bodyhopper, Nancy Johnson loved bringing home women that would entice her husband to fuck her senseless. If a pretty cashier caught his eye, or the cute teller at the bank, or a seductive college cheerleader, or one of the many local milfs, Nancy would make sure each of their bodies spent some very intimate time with her man. She’d even gone on a few trips to bring in some celebrities that he’d crushed on forever.
Nancy became bodyhopper during an experiment run by her twin children, Derek and Aubrey. They’d used an electrical charge to spark a gene inside of her. They knew it was there, because it ran in their family. Once activated, she gained the ability to pass her soul from one body to the next. In doing so, she gained access to that person’s mind and could pass for them with the greatest of ease. She had used it to seduce her husband, and eventually persuaded him to leave her aging body behind.
The couple were still very much in love, and when Nancy wasn’t fucking her husband’s brains out in a body typically younger than her previous one, they were enjoying hobbies and conversations that were akin to people who had been together for many years. They didn’t go out on many dates though since Nancy was usually in the body of a woman in her 20’s that could have been Richard’s granddaughter. It was here that the trouble started.
A week ago Nancy had gently teased her husband while in the guise of a cute, blonde 21 year old. She told him he’d never be able to pick up someone like her in real life because of the age gap. She thought it would turn him on. One of his favorite things was when she brought home a young woman and began calling him ‘Daddy.’ Perhaps because his 55th birthday was a week away, or the fact that they could no longer grow old together, he took it poorly.
“Age is just a number,” he snapped back. “I could go into a bar, any bar, and have a woman on my arm by the end of the night.”
Nancy had then made the catastrophic mistake of laughing at this remark. The idea of her husband with his wrinkles and gray hair going to a club and using his cheesy lines on a woman to take her back home was honestly absurd to her.
Richard’s pride took a hit, and he went to sleep on the couch that night, and no amount of cajoling or seduction could get him to return. This was also a blow to Nancy, because a bodyhopper continually craved sex. It seemed to be part of the gene. In instances like these, she’d had to seek other options. In that case, she’d taken the blonde home and fucked her boyfriend.
Nancy fucked a lot of boyfriends and husbands when she inevitably returned a host body. Richard knew this of these indiscretions, but also knew that as horny as he often was, his wife had an itch that he couldn’t always scratch, especially as he got older. He’d never resented her for it, because he’d been around a few bodyhoppers the last decade. Derek was one, and like Nancy, no longer had a body of his own. Aubrey was too, but had to keep her body hooked up to life support if she ever hopped someone.
Then there was the third bodyhopper they all knew. The one who had passed the gene on to so many people over the last few centuries. His name was Nevyn, and he’d almost ruined all of their lives.
Nevyn had possessed Nancy for a few months long ago, living with the Johnsons and teasing Derek relentlessly. But after Nevyn lost his bodyhopping power and became stuck in Derek’s body, he’d briefly aligned himself with the Johnsons in the pursuit of getting Derek his body back. They’d studied the gene and made several breakthroughs, and somewhere during this process, Nevyn felt sidelined, and eventually betrayed. He used what he knew to get his powers back by himself, which led to a close friend of the Johnsons named Bekka to lose her life, although the twins often spoke of her like she was still alive.
Nevyn’s actions spurred the twins along two different paths that ran parallel to each other. Aubrey continued unlocking the secrets of the bodyswapping gene to try and find a way to track it, while Derek pursued Nevyn by thinking like him, and looking for his telltale signatures in society.
A month ago, Derek had success, and had intercepted Nevyn. In a phone call, Derek had given his parents the good news that it was finally over.
“Nevyn’s dead. He knew I was chasing him and he ran into traffic. A second later he was hit by a bus. After all this time, that’s how it ends. It’s so strange. We finally all have our lives back.”
The Johnsons had all moved on as best they could, with Aubrey stating she was going back to college to get her doctorate, and Derek possibly moving back home.
But tonight, none of this was on Richard’s mind. Because tonight he was celebrating his birthday. Because of Nancy’s insensitive remarks, husband and wife made a wager. If he could pick up a woman at a local hotel bar and get her to go upstairs to a room for sex, she’d join them for a threesome.
“But what if she doesn’t want a threesome?” Richard had asked.
“You mean if I can’t convince her with my very impressive feminine wiles?” his wife had responded with a laugh. “Then I guess I’ll be doing some very fast hopping. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
This is why Richard now found himself up past his bedtime at a crowded hotel bar where the music was too loud. He’d much rather be at home, waiting to see who his wife was bringing him that night. But his pride was on the line.
Even though he’d been out of the dating game for a long time, he felt confident he’d be able to land a hottie and take her up to the hotel room they’d booked. He scanned the sea of people. It seemed full of possibilities. He locked eyes with a pretty raven haired woman behind the bar as she mixed a drink. She winked at him. Nancy had chosen this bartender as her vantage point to watch the proceeding.
She totally wanted him to win, which is why she pointed towards a small circular table where a couple of young women sat, chatting and giggling away. After observing them for a few seconds, he shot an upturned eyebrow back at Nancy. He knew these women were at least 21 years of age, but probably not a day older. They still had their whole lives ahead of them. He was just the man that could teach them a thing or two. Richard strode over confidently, believing that this would be over quickly, he’d be fucking one or both of them within the hour, and could go to sleep.
He assessed them as he got closer. The girl to his left was a curly haired brunette with a dazzling smile. She wore a short black dress, but didn’t have a lot going on in the chest department. That was okay. He was always partial to brunettes. They reminded him of his wife and his daughter Aubrey, although they had both been stacked.
To her right was a shoulder length blonde who was offering a generous amount of cleavage to all passersby in a low red blouse with lipstick that matched. His eyes lingered on her exposed skin, and it distracted him so much that he forgot to say anything upon his arrival.
“Can we…help you with something old man?” the blonde said with a pitying smirk.
“He looks lost,” the brunette giggled. “It seems like he’s trying to find directions to your tits.”
“Don’t even!” the blonde squealed, and whacked the brunette on the shoulder playfully. “I’m sure this grandpa is harmless.”
“Or he’s a dirty old man,” the brunette clapped back. “He’s gotta be, right? I mean he came over to our table. To what? Hit on us?” She crossed her legs and looked up at him as if she’d caught him doing something scandalous. “Do you even know how old we are, mister?”
“Um, uh, 21?” Richard replied as he tried to recover from their verbal assault.
“I am,” the blonde said, “But Kinzie here is only 19.”
“How did you…” Richard started to ask.
But the girl identified as Kinzie interjected. “Fake ID grandpa. What? They didn’t have those back in your day?”
“I don’t think they had that kind of technology back then,” the blonde added.
“Just had the wheel and fire, right gramps?”
“I am not that old!” Richard fumed.
“Yeah? How old are you then?” Kinzie asked with a raised eyebrow as she haughtily picked up her drink to take a sip.
“Old enough to…uh…teach you a few things,” Richard said as he tried to turn this interaction around.
This elicited a cringe response on both their faces that ended when they looked at each other and burst into a giggle fit.
The blonde’s eyes drifted down to Richard’s crotch, then back up to meet his. “Can you even get it up? I hear that can be a real problem for senior citizens.”
“I’m sure he can, Mckayla, withe the help of a pill!”
The giggle fit resumed in earnest, and Richard found himself wanting to retreat, from this table, from the premises from civilization. This had been a horrible idea.
Suddenly the bartender was at his side carrying a tray that had three drinks in martini glasses on it. “Here’s your drink sir, and how nice of you to buy a round for these two lovely ladies.”
“Ugh,” Kinzie said with an eye roll. “Well, a free drink’s a free drink.
She reached for it, but Mckayla hesitated and asked the bartender, “He didn’t pay you to slip something into it, did he?”
The bartender’s pretty face faltered as if she’d been slapped. But then she set her jaw, and said tightly, “I can assure you that he’d never have to do anything of the sort. Not when he has me.”
As Kinzie’s fingers curled around the thin stem of a glass, the bartender’s fingers brushed against her for the briefest of moments in a way that so often happens while passing something from one person to the next. A fleeting second of contact that feels both innocuous and yet strangely intimate. It is usually a moment that is here, then gone, but this time, it left a lingering effect in the form of a shudder that began in Kinzie’s hand.
“Excuse me?” Mckayla asked loudly in response to what the bartender had just said. But she got no response, because the bartender’s gaze had gone slack.
“Um, Mckayla, I think maybe I’ve had too much to drink,” Kinzie said as she looked at the tremor rapidly spreading up her arm.
Mckayla didn’t look at her friend but continued to study the bartender. It was like she was asleep, but her eyes were open. She was just standing as still as a statue holding the tray. “You’ve only had one Kinzie. I swear, you’re such a lightweight. You really should be building up more of a tolerance for the parties at college.”
“No, really, I…I think I want to go…” but the rest of what she might have said was lost as her mind was no longer her own.
“Just kidding!” Kinzie suddenly squealed. “I feel fine! In fact, I think we should go to this handsome guy’s room. You got a room, don’t ya mister?”
Mckayla’s jaw dropped as she turned her head away from the bartender towards her friend. “Are you fucking kidding me girl? You’ve got to be insane if you think that I’m going anywhere with grandpa here just cause he got us a free-”
But she stopped mid sentence as her friend grabbed her wrist, and it too began to shudder.
“What the hell? Why’s my arm fucking doing that? Am I having a stroke or some-”
But then Mckayla went quiet for a second before looking up at the bartender and taking the drink she’d previously insinuated was spiked. “Thank you, ma’am. Now go back and attend to your duties.”
“Yes,” the pretty bartender said in a flat tone before she turned away and went back behind the bar.
“So, stud,” Mackayla said as she eyed Richard up and down as if he were a snack. “I believe you were about to sit down and talk us two lovely ladies into having a threesome with you?” She set her glass down on the table and touched her friend’s hand.
Shudder.
A second later Kinzie said, “Yeah. We’d totally say yes. You can take us upstairs to your room and fuck us stupid. We’re both really nimble. We were both cheerleaders!” She touched Mckayla’s hand.
Shudder.
“I bet you like cheerleaders, don’t ya?” Mckayla said with a wink. “Especially ones that like kissing each other.” She looked at her friend and said, “Kiss me passionately.”
“Yes,” Kinzie said, and then their lips were together as they kissed each other deeply.
Shudder.
“So, what do you say?” Kinzie asked with her thousand watt smile.
Shudder.
“Please take us horny sluts up to your room and be our daddy for the night.”
This sudden reversal of fortune seemed to darken Richard’s mood. “Dammit Nancy! The deal was I do this on my own!”
Several people glanced at the tiny outburst from the older gentleman standing in front of the two young women. He seemed to be reprimanding them for something. Richard seemed to understand he’d made a scene, and smiled bashfully. A few seconds later, everyone went back to their drinks and conversations.
“I’m sorry, Richard,” Nancy’s voice came quietly out of Mckayla’s mouth. “It’s just, I heard these cunts being horrible to you and I thought we could teach them a lesson.” She put a hand on his leg and began sliding it upwards. “Together.”
Mckayla’s voice was back then. “Please mister. Please fuck some manners into us. Kinzie and I would learn so much from you.” She touched her friend on the arm.
Shudder.
“Yeah. Teach us Daddy,” Kinzie whined. “We’ll be good girls for you. We’ll even let you-”
“Enough,” Richard said quietly but firmly. “Anyone I take upstairs tonight will come because they want to. So…get out of these girls and let me get back to finding that person.”
“Fine!” Nancy said with an eye roll. “You still interested in teaching them a lesson though?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Nancy waved over the bartender who approached them quickly. Her eyes seemed less vacant than before, but there was still a bit of a haze there. Nancy casually brushed the back of Kinzie’s hand against the bartender, who shuddered.
“Well,” the bartender said, and she sounded as if she were recommending a drink. “Since you two are such good friends, you’re going to get each other off. I want you to go into the ladies room and strip naked, then toss your clothes out the window in there. Then go into a stall and begin licking and fingering each other. Try to make each other cum as fast as you can.”
“Yes,” they both said in perfect unison. They immediately stood, and with robotic grace walked to the ladies room.
“Well fuck me,” Richard said. “Now I want to go to the ladies room.”
“You had your chance,” Nancy said with a smirk. “Although I did memorize Mckayla’s address if you ever want me to go pay her a visit.”
A huge grin crept over Richard’s face. “I love you.”
“I know. Now get back on the horse and go get ‘em tiger. I’ll be over there watching. Best of luck. I do want you to have a happy birthday!”
“I think I’ll go hit on someone near the ladies room.”
“You do that, dear,” she said with a laugh, then went back to resume bartending.
Richard set off in the direction the two girls had gone. He passed by several people that looked like couples or were just trying to relax by themselves. He considered hitting on a few of them, but crossed off the ones that looked under 26. No more early twentysomethings. Too obnoxious and rude. He’d go aim a bit higher, which, he didn’t want to admit, would probably up his chances of success.
He decided on a professionally dressed woman in a light blue blouse and dark skirt sitting by herself. She wore her sandy blonde hair in a bun. She had glasses, and was staring intently at a laptop. If he struck out with her, she’d probably let him down gently unlike those first two had. He wondered if they were in the stall by now, their naked bodies pressed together invading each other’s holes with their tongues and fingers in a desperate attempt to make the other cum.
“This seat taken?” he asked with what he believed to be a suave demeanor.
“Huh, what?” the woman said, not bothering to look at him. “No? You can take it if you want.”
Richard was confused for a second, then understood. “No, I don’t need it for another table. I wanted to sit with you.”
This caused her to look up at him like he’d just said something very stupid. “Why?”
“Because…” he said, as he tried to think of something clever. He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever actually been clever in his life. “Because I wanted to get to know the prettiest woman in this bar.”
Her eyebrow raised and she gave him a quick up and down assessment. Then her lips pursed together like she’d tasted something sour. “Um…no. Thank you.”
Richard had been in sales for a long time, and never accepted the first no. Sometimes not the second. He could do this. He just needed a chance to show her what a catch he was. “I really think you’ll like me if you get to know me.”
“Probably not,” she said dismissively. “Because I tend not to like married men who hit on other women.”
This comment took Richard aback. “What? Why would you think I’m-”
“Wedding ring, dipshit,” the woman said, pointing at his left hand.
Despite the fact that Nancy’s actual body had been declared dead and they’d had a funeral and everything, to Richard, and to Nancy, she was very much alive. Of course he wore his ring. He’d never even thought about taking it off until this very second. Now he realized how foolish it had been to wear it while trying to pick up women in a bar. Then he had an idea.
“Oh, um…yeah, I’m…a widower. Just can’t bear to take it off.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and her face went very red. She began fidgeting with her hands as she apologetically blurted out, “Oh shit! I’m so sorry. I should not have…uh, has she been gone long? I mean…I didn’t mean to ask something so personal! I feel so bad! I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“How about you just let me buy you a drink and we get to know each other,” Richard offered as his confidence level soared to new heights. He glanced towards his wife behind the bar and signaled that he had someone on the hook.
The woman grimaced and said, “It’s really flattering, but…I have a deadline and-”
Richard interrupted. “It was a few years back when I lost her, but it still feels like yesterday. She was the love of my life, you know. Tonight was the first night I worked up the courage to put myself back out there.”
The woman’s expression became one of deepest sympathy and she closed her laptop. “I…I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt. Uh…I’m Natalie.”
“Yes!” Richard exclaimed, and he couldn’t help but give a little fist pump. “That’ll show her.”
“Show who?”
Without thinking he said, “My wife. She didn’t think I could still get a woman to give me the time of…” He trailed off as he recognized his mistake.
The woman’s face shifted into one of loathing. “Wait! Was that whole dead wife thing a line?”
“No, I-”
“You’re disgusting. Go find someone else to be sleazy to,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“So close,” Richard said as he stood. Back to square one. He was a few steps away when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
“Fine! Natalie said with a bit of contempt still etched on her face. “You wanna fool around, I could use a destresser. Let’s go.”
Richard couldn’t believe his luck! “I have a room we can-”
“I know someplace closer,” she said, and still clasping his hand, she drug him to the ladies room and pushed open the door.
They both stopped at the sight of two naked women who appeared to be having a wild night. Their hair was a mess and their lipstick was smeared. They were both attempting to cover their bodies with paper towels, but it was not working very well. At the sight of the woman, Kinzie said, “Ohmygosh can you please help us? We need some clothes. Can you-”
“Ah!” Mckayla yelled. “There’s a man with her!”
She made a better attempt to cover her boobs, but her crotch was very much exposed. Richard knew where some of Kinzie’s lipstick went, because some remnants of her shade were between Mckayla’s legs.
“It’s the old guy from before!” Kinzie hissed, and they both darted into a stall.
“Looks like this one has other stuff going on,” Natalie quipped, and pulled Richard out and into the men’s. She led him to a stall, pushed him inside and said, “Take off your pants.”
Richard’s fingers flew to his crotch where they momentarily seemed to forget how to unbuckle a belt.
“Let me help,” Natalie said with an eye roll. She sank to her knees and was much more adept at getting Richard’s pants off than he seemed to be. She made no pretense of why they were there as she yanked down his underwear. She took his cock in her hand, holding it up to be level with her face. Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.
“Oh fuck! That was fast!” he said. His mojo was back! It might not have worked the way he’d planned, but a win was still a-
He felt it then. A telltale shudder. He’d felt it many, many times while he and his wife made love. A shudder was the telltale sign of a bodyhopper moving into a new host. But it continued to happen intermittently while the hopper remained inside. It was a brief struggle of one soul dominating the other. It was like a reflex, and could even be done while a hopper slept, but it was also very noticeable, especially for someone who had been around hoppers as much as Richard.
“Seriously Nancy! Again!” he said as he pushed Natalie’s head back. He’d really been enjoying himself too, but his dick was suddenly deflating as he realized he’d been duped.
The woman’s face looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought I could get you off real quick before I shuddered and then you’d have a win and you could take me upstairs and fuck.”
Richard frowned, pissed that he was still 0 for 2. “Well, you almost got me there. Another 20 seconds of your world class dick sucking and I would have busted all over your face.”
She reached up and stroked his cock, which twitched hopefully in her hand. “You still could, darling. Seriously. I’m so horny in this body. I’d love it if you took me right here in this stall.”
Richard had to hand it to his wife. She could bring out the sluttiest part of any woman. He could take her right here and she’d never know because of how Nancy could alter her memories. But he shook his head and helped her to her feet.
“Wait! When did you even hop her?” he asked as he pulled his pants up.
She gave a small smile. “I’d just arrived to take your drink order when you got up to leave her table. A second later I was her, and pulled you into the bathroom so you wouldn’t notice the bartender right behind us.”
“That was so funny seeing those two girls in the bathroom.”
“That’s why I took you in there first. Did you see the lipstick on the one girl’s hoo ha?”
“Oh yeah.”
The couple burst out laughing, but then Richard said, “Okay, I’m going back out there. No help this time, understood?”
Nancy slumped Natalie’s shoulders. “I don’t think you know how much I want you to succeed, dear. I really need it right now. I might just rub one out in the stall real quick when you leave. Unless you want to watch?” She began to unbutton her blouse while she bit her lower lip. “You could still help this uptight business woman unwind?”
Richard left in a hurry before his wife could tempt him further. What did he do to deserve such a seductive creature?
As he left the restroom, he eyed the occupants of the bar with new determination. Third time’s the charm. He’d just…pick someone closer to his age. Not his preferred choice, but a gal with experience could certainly bring a lot to the table, or in this case, the bedroom. He pocketed his wedding ring as he circled the perimeter, finally coming back near the entrance where other hotel guests passed close by.
It was there he saw someone he’d passed by earlier. A woman in her early 40’s that he hadn’t really considered. She was quite striking though with her long auburn hair and legs that went on for miles. Richard thought she somewhat resembled Nancy in the face. And also the boobs. The woman was stacked.
She had a duffel bag on the chair next to her. Richard put a hand on the handle of the bag and said, “Mind if I move this so I can have a seat?” As he started to lift it, it began to shake. And growl.
The woman’s eyebrows shot up and she protectively reached for it and pulled it onto her lap. “Have a seat if you must, but Daisy doesn’t like to be jostled unnecessarily.”
Out of the top of the bag popped the face of an adorable Yorkshire terrier. Her furry brown face looked up into his and gave a small yip.
“Good girl,” the woman said with a small smile as she pulled the terrier out of the bag and put her on her lap. “She can be a very good judge of character. You must be a bad man.” The terrier growled at him.
Richard put his hands up and chuckled, then said to the small dog, “I can assure you I meant no harm little lady.” He held out a hand for her to sniff. The terrier did, and then gave his palm a lick.
The woman assessed him, and by her expression, she liked what she saw. “Perhaps you’re not terrible. Go ahead and have a seat.”
Richard did so. “I didn’t know you could have dogs in here.”
“You probably can’t,” the woman said with an air of indifference. “But she’s my emotional support animal. That’s what I tell everyone anyways.”
This annoyed Richard, but he tried hard to focus on her figure, something which the woman didn’t seem to mind him eyeing. “So, what’s your sign?”
This elicited a shrill laugh from the woman. “I haven’t heard that one in awhile.”
“I really need to get some new material.”
“Do you find yourself coming out to hotel bars often enough that you need to constantly refresh it?”
“Er, no,” Richard said. “I usually just stick with the basics. Like, hi, I’m Richard, and you are a very beautiful woman that I would like to get to know better.”
She cocked her head at him, studying him closely like a cat might before pouncing on a mouse, then said, “That was a much better line. I’m Crystal. What would you like to know?”
The two hit it off, and Richard found Crystal’s banter refreshing. She didn’t look at him like he was ancient, or pitied him in any way. Best of all though, she hadn’t shuddered once.
They were mid conversation discussing childhood pets when the bartender came up and asked, “Can I get you two anything?”
“I’ll take a bourbon,” Richard said, not taking his eyes away from Crystal.
“Nothing for me,” Crystal said as she tapped a glass she’d barely touched.
They both just stared at each other, mirroring a smile that belied a bubbling chemistry under the surface.
The spell was momentarily broken by the sound of the bartender clearing her throat. “Will you be taking that bourbon up to your room…sir?”
Richard looked up at the raven haired bartender. “In a bit. We’re in no rush.”
The bartender’s eyes narrowed, and her smile became tight lipped. “Of course…sir. By all means, take your time.”
As she walked away, she touched the shoulder of a woman passing by, who shuddered. That woman whispered something into the bartender’s ear, who went about her duties a moment later.
Richard was oblivious to this. He was enjoying the massive ego boost Crystal was giving him. He found himself opening up to her, sharing things like it was a first date. He was used to seeing different women all the time, but the conversation was always the same, because his wife knew everything about him. This was nice, so much so that he didn’t mind talking and throwing back a few. He was slightly worried that he’d pissed Nancy off, because she acted like she didn’t know him whenever she brought the drinks.
“Well, this has been lovely,” Crystal finally said. “But I should be going.”
“Oh, um, I was wondering if you wanted to…” Richard started, not entirely sure how to seal the deal.
She grinned at him and finished the proposition for him. “If I wanted to come up to your room and we have casual sex like grown adults?”
“Uh…” Richard stammered. “Y-yeah. I guess…that.”
“You’re very cute when you’re flustered.”
“Well if you’d like to see me flustered you should see me try to take my pants off when I’m really excited.”
It was Richard Johnson’s birthday, and he was a man on a mission. He was going to pick up a beautiful woman in a hotel bar using only his appearance and charm. He hadn’t needed to rely on those attributes in a very long time, but still managed to have a different woman in his bed every night. That was one of the perks to being married to a bodyhopper.
For the ten years that she’d been a bodyhopper, Nancy Johnson loved bringing home women that would entice her husband to fuck her senseless. If a pretty cashier caught his eye, or the cute teller at the bank, or a seductive college cheerleader, or one of the many local milfs, Nancy would make sure each of their bodies spent some very intimate time with her man. She’d even gone on a few trips to bring in some celebrities that he’d crushed on forever.
Nancy became bodyhopper during an experiment run by her twin children, Derek and Aubrey. They’d used an electrical charge to spark a gene inside of her. They knew it was there, because it ran in their family. Once activated, she gained the ability to pass her soul from one body to the next. In doing so, she gained access to that person’s mind and could pass for them with the greatest of ease. She had used it to seduce her husband, and eventually persuaded him to leave her aging body behind.
The couple were still very much in love, and when Nancy wasn’t fucking her husband’s brains out in a body typically younger than her previous one, they were enjoying hobbies and conversations that were akin to people who had been together for many years. They didn’t go out on many dates though since Nancy was usually in the body of a woman in her 20’s that could have been Richard’s granddaughter. It was here that the trouble started.
A week ago Nancy had gently teased her husband while in the guise of a cute, blonde 21 year old. She told him he’d never be able to pick up someone like her in real life because of the age gap. She thought it would turn him on. One of his favorite things was when she brought home a young woman and began calling him ‘Daddy.’ Perhaps because his 55th birthday was a week away, or the fact that they could no longer grow old together, he took it poorly.
“Age is just a number,” he snapped back. “I could go into a bar, any bar, and have a woman on my arm by the end of the night.”
Nancy had then made the catastrophic mistake of laughing at this remark. The idea of her husband with his wrinkles and gray hair going to a club and using his cheesy lines on a woman to take her back home was honestly absurd to her.
Richard’s pride took a hit, and he went to sleep on the couch that night, and no amount of cajoling or seduction could get him to return. This was also a blow to Nancy, because a bodyhopper continually craved sex. It seemed to be part of the gene. In instances like these, she’d had to seek other options. In that case, she’d taken the blonde home and fucked her boyfriend.
Nancy fucked a lot of boyfriends and husbands when she inevitably returned a host body. Richard knew this of these indiscretions, but also knew that as horny as he often was, his wife had an itch that he couldn’t always scratch, especially as he got older. He’d never resented her for it, because he’d been around a few bodyhoppers the last decade. Derek was one, and like Nancy, no longer had a body of his own. Aubrey was too, but had to keep her body hooked up to life support if she ever hopped someone.
Then there was the third bodyhopper they all knew. The one who had passed the gene on to so many people over the last few centuries. His name was Nevyn, and he’d almost ruined all of their lives.
Nevyn had possessed Nancy for a few months long ago, living with the Johnsons and teasing Derek relentlessly. But after Nevyn lost his bodyhopping power and became stuck in Derek’s body, he’d briefly aligned himself with the Johnsons in the pursuit of getting Derek his body back. They’d studied the gene and made several breakthroughs, and somewhere during this process, Nevyn felt sidelined, and eventually betrayed. He used what he knew to get his powers back by himself, which led to a close friend of the Johnsons named Bekka to lose her life, although the twins often spoke of her like she was still alive.
Nevyn’s actions spurred the twins along two different paths that ran parallel to each other. Aubrey continued unlocking the secrets of the bodyswapping gene to try and find a way to track it, while Derek pursued Nevyn by thinking like him, and looking for his telltale signatures in society.
A month ago, Derek had success, and had intercepted Nevyn. In a phone call, Derek had given his parents the good news that it was finally over.
“Nevyn’s dead. He knew I was chasing him and he ran into traffic. A second later he was hit by a bus. After all this time, that’s how it ends. It’s so strange. We finally all have our lives back.”
The Johnsons had all moved on as best they could, with Aubrey stating she was going back to college to get her doctorate, and Derek possibly moving back home.
But tonight, none of this was on Richard’s mind. Because tonight he was celebrating his birthday. Because of Nancy’s insensitive remarks, husband and wife made a wager. If he could pick up a woman at a local hotel bar and get her to go upstairs to a room for sex, she’d join them for a threesome.
“But what if she doesn’t want a threesome?” Richard had asked.
“You mean if I can’t convince her with my very impressive feminine wiles?” his wife had responded with a laugh. “Then I guess I’ll be doing some very fast hopping. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
This is why Richard now found himself up past his bedtime at a crowded hotel bar where the music was too loud. He’d much rather be at home, waiting to see who his wife was bringing him that night. But his pride was on the line.
Even though he’d been out of the dating game for a long time, he felt confident he’d be able to land a hottie and take her up to the hotel room they’d booked. He scanned the sea of people. It seemed full of possibilities. He locked eyes with a pretty raven haired woman behind the bar as she mixed a drink. She winked at him. Nancy had chosen this bartender as her vantage point to watch the proceeding.
She totally wanted him to win, which is why she pointed towards a small circular table where a couple of young women sat, chatting and giggling away. After observing them for a few seconds, he shot an upturned eyebrow back at Nancy. He knew these women were at least 21 years of age, but probably not a day older. They still had their whole lives ahead of them. He was just the man that could teach them a thing or two. Richard strode over confidently, believing that this would be over quickly, he’d be fucking one or both of them within the hour, and could go to sleep.
He assessed them as he got closer. The girl to his left was a curly haired brunette with a dazzling smile. She wore a short black dress, but didn’t have a lot going on in the chest department. That was okay. He was always partial to brunettes. They reminded him of his wife and his daughter Aubrey, although they had both been stacked.
To her right was a shoulder length blonde who was offering a generous amount of cleavage to all passersby in a low red blouse with lipstick that matched. His eyes lingered on her exposed skin, and it distracted him so much that he forgot to say anything upon his arrival.
“Can we…help you with something old man?” the blonde said with a pitying smirk.
“He looks lost,” the brunette giggled. “It seems like he’s trying to find directions to your tits.”
“Don’t even!” the blonde squealed, and whacked the brunette on the shoulder playfully. “I’m sure this grandpa is harmless.”
“Or he’s a dirty old man,” the brunette clapped back. “He’s gotta be, right? I mean he came over to our table. To what? Hit on us?” She crossed her legs and looked up at him as if she’d caught him doing something scandalous. “Do you even know how old we are, mister?”
“Um, uh, 21?” Richard replied as he tried to recover from their verbal assault.
“I am,” the blonde said, “But Kinzie here is only 19.”
“How did you…” Richard started to ask.
But the girl identified as Kinzie interjected. “Fake ID grandpa. What? They didn’t have those back in your day?”
“I don’t think they had that kind of technology back then,” the blonde added.
“Just had the wheel and fire, right gramps?”
“I am not that old!” Richard fumed.
“Yeah? How old are you then?” Kinzie asked with a raised eyebrow as she haughtily picked up her drink to take a sip.
“Old enough to…uh…teach you a few things,” Richard said as he tried to turn this interaction around.
This elicited a cringe response on both their faces that ended when they looked at each other and burst into a giggle fit.
The blonde’s eyes drifted down to Richard’s crotch, then back up to meet his. “Can you even get it up? I hear that can be a real problem for senior citizens.”
“I’m sure he can, Mckayla, withe the help of a pill!”
The giggle fit resumed in earnest, and Richard found himself wanting to retreat, from this table, from the premises from civilization. This had been a horrible idea.
Suddenly the bartender was at his side carrying a tray that had three drinks in martini glasses on it. “Here’s your drink sir, and how nice of you to buy a round for these two lovely ladies.”
“Ugh,” Kinzie said with an eye roll. “Well, a free drink’s a free drink.
She reached for it, but Mckayla hesitated and asked the bartender, “He didn’t pay you to slip something into it, did he?”
The bartender’s pretty face faltered as if she’d been slapped. But then she set her jaw, and said tightly, “I can assure you that he’d never have to do anything of the sort. Not when he has me.”
As Kinzie’s fingers curled around the thin stem of a glass, the bartender’s fingers brushed against her for the briefest of moments in a way that so often happens while passing something from one person to the next. A fleeting second of contact that feels both innocuous and yet strangely intimate. It is usually a moment that is here, then gone, but this time, it left a lingering effect in the form of a shudder that began in Kinzie’s hand.
“Excuse me?” Mckayla asked loudly in response to what the bartender had just said. But she got no response, because the bartender’s gaze had gone slack.
“Um, Mckayla, I think maybe I’ve had too much to drink,” Kinzie said as she looked at the tremor rapidly spreading up her arm.
Mckayla didn’t look at her friend but continued to study the bartender. It was like she was asleep, but her eyes were open. She was just standing as still as a statue holding the tray. “You’ve only had one Kinzie. I swear, you’re such a lightweight. You really should be building up more of a tolerance for the parties at college.”
“No, really, I…I think I want to go…” but the rest of what she might have said was lost as her mind was no longer her own.
“Just kidding!” Kinzie suddenly squealed. “I feel fine! In fact, I think we should go to this handsome guy’s room. You got a room, don’t ya mister?”
Mckayla’s jaw dropped as she turned her head away from the bartender towards her friend. “Are you fucking kidding me girl? You’ve got to be insane if you think that I’m going anywhere with grandpa here just cause he got us a free-”
But she stopped mid sentence as her friend grabbed her wrist, and it too began to shudder.
“What the hell? Why’s my arm fucking doing that? Am I having a stroke or some-”
But then Mckayla went quiet for a second before looking up at the bartender and taking the drink she’d previously insinuated was spiked. “Thank you, ma’am. Now go back and attend to your duties.”
“Yes,” the pretty bartender said in a flat tone before she turned away and went back behind the bar.
“So, stud,” Mackayla said as she eyed Richard up and down as if he were a snack. “I believe you were about to sit down and talk us two lovely ladies into having a threesome with you?” She set her glass down on the table and touched her friend’s hand.
Shudder.
A second later Kinzie said, “Yeah. We’d totally say yes. You can take us upstairs to your room and fuck us stupid. We’re both really nimble. We were both cheerleaders!” She touched Mckayla’s hand.
Shudder.
“I bet you like cheerleaders, don’t ya?” Mckayla said with a wink. “Especially ones that like kissing each other.” She looked at her friend and said, “Kiss me passionately.”
“Yes,” Kinzie said, and then their lips were together as they kissed each other deeply.
Shudder.
“So, what do you say?” Kinzie asked with her thousand watt smile.
Shudder.
“Please take us horny sluts up to your room and be our daddy for the night.”
This sudden reversal of fortune seemed to darken Richard’s mood. “Dammit Nancy! The deal was I do this on my own!”
Several people glanced at the tiny outburst from the older gentleman standing in front of the two young women. He seemed to be reprimanding them for something. Richard seemed to understand he’d made a scene, and smiled bashfully. A few seconds later, everyone went back to their drinks and conversations.
“I’m sorry, Richard,” Nancy’s voice came quietly out of Mckayla’s mouth. “It’s just, I heard these cunts being horrible to you and I thought we could teach them a lesson.” She put a hand on his leg and began sliding it upwards. “Together.”
Mckayla’s voice was back then. “Please mister. Please fuck some manners into us. Kinzie and I would learn so much from you.” She touched her friend on the arm.
Shudder.
“Yeah. Teach us Daddy,” Kinzie whined. “We’ll be good girls for you. We’ll even let you-”
“Enough,” Richard said quietly but firmly. “Anyone I take upstairs tonight will come because they want to. So…get out of these girls and let me get back to finding that person.”
“Fine!” Nancy said with an eye roll. “You still interested in teaching them a lesson though?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Nancy waved over the bartender who approached them quickly. Her eyes seemed less vacant than before, but there was still a bit of a haze there. Nancy casually brushed the back of Kinzie’s hand against the bartender, who shuddered.
“Well,” the bartender said, and she sounded as if she were recommending a drink. “Since you two are such good friends, you’re going to get each other off. I want you to go into the ladies room and strip naked, then toss your clothes out the window in there. Then go into a stall and begin licking and fingering each other. Try to make each other cum as fast as you can.”
“Yes,” they both said in perfect unison. They immediately stood, and with robotic grace walked to the ladies room.
“Well fuck me,” Richard said. “Now I want to go to the ladies room.”
“You had your chance,” Nancy said with a smirk. “Although I did memorize Mckayla’s address if you ever want me to go pay her a visit.”
A huge grin crept over Richard’s face. “I love you.”
“I know. Now get back on the horse and go get ‘em tiger. I’ll be over there watching. Best of luck. I do want you to have a happy birthday!”
“I think I’ll go hit on someone near the ladies room.”
“You do that, dear,” she said with a laugh, then went back to resume bartending.
Richard set off in the direction the two girls had gone. He passed by several people that looked like couples or were just trying to relax by themselves. He considered hitting on a few of them, but crossed off the ones that looked under 26. No more early twentysomethings. Too obnoxious and rude. He’d go aim a bit higher, which, he didn’t want to admit, would probably up his chances of success.
He decided on a professionally dressed woman in a light blue blouse and dark skirt sitting by herself. She wore her sandy blonde hair in a bun. She had glasses, and was staring intently at a laptop. If he struck out with her, she’d probably let him down gently unlike those first two had. He wondered if they were in the stall by now, their naked bodies pressed together invading each other’s holes with their tongues and fingers in a desperate attempt to make the other cum.
“This seat taken?” he asked with what he believed to be a suave demeanor.
“Huh, what?” the woman said, not bothering to look at him. “No? You can take it if you want.”
Richard was confused for a second, then understood. “No, I don’t need it for another table. I wanted to sit with you.”
This caused her to look up at him like he’d just said something very stupid. “Why?”
“Because…” he said, as he tried to think of something clever. He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever actually been clever in his life. “Because I wanted to get to know the prettiest woman in this bar.”
Her eyebrow raised and she gave him a quick up and down assessment. Then her lips pursed together like she’d tasted something sour. “Um…no. Thank you.”
Richard had been in sales for a long time, and never accepted the first no. Sometimes not the second. He could do this. He just needed a chance to show her what a catch he was. “I really think you’ll like me if you get to know me.”
“Probably not,” she said dismissively. “Because I tend not to like married men who hit on other women.”
This comment took Richard aback. “What? Why would you think I’m-”
“Wedding ring, dipshit,” the woman said, pointing at his left hand.
Despite the fact that Nancy’s actual body had been declared dead and they’d had a funeral and everything, to Richard, and to Nancy, she was very much alive. Of course he wore his ring. He’d never even thought about taking it off until this very second. Now he realized how foolish it had been to wear it while trying to pick up women in a bar. Then he had an idea.
“Oh, um…yeah, I’m…a widower. Just can’t bear to take it off.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and her face went very red. She began fidgeting with her hands as she apologetically blurted out, “Oh shit! I’m so sorry. I should not have…uh, has she been gone long? I mean…I didn’t mean to ask something so personal! I feel so bad! I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“How about you just let me buy you a drink and we get to know each other,” Richard offered as his confidence level soared to new heights. He glanced towards his wife behind the bar and signaled that he had someone on the hook.
The woman grimaced and said, “It’s really flattering, but…I have a deadline and-”
Richard interrupted. “It was a few years back when I lost her, but it still feels like yesterday. She was the love of my life, you know. Tonight was the first night I worked up the courage to put myself back out there.”
The woman’s expression became one of deepest sympathy and she closed her laptop. “I…I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt. Uh…I’m Natalie.”
“Yes!” Richard exclaimed, and he couldn’t help but give a little fist pump. “That’ll show her.”
“Show who?”
Without thinking he said, “My wife. She didn’t think I could still get a woman to give me the time of…” He trailed off as he recognized his mistake.
The woman’s face shifted into one of loathing. “Wait! Was that whole dead wife thing a line?”
“No, I-”
“You’re disgusting. Go find someone else to be sleazy to,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“So close,” Richard said as he stood. Back to square one. He was a few steps away when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
“Fine! Natalie said with a bit of contempt still etched on her face. “You wanna fool around, I could use a destresser. Let’s go.”
Richard couldn’t believe his luck! “I have a room we can-”
“I know someplace closer,” she said, and still clasping his hand, she drug him to the ladies room and pushed open the door.
They both stopped at the sight of two naked women who appeared to be having a wild night. Their hair was a mess and their lipstick was smeared. They were both attempting to cover their bodies with paper towels, but it was not working very well. At the sight of the woman, Kinzie said, “Ohmygosh can you please help us? We need some clothes. Can you-”
“Ah!” Mckayla yelled. “There’s a man with her!”
She made a better attempt to cover her boobs, but her crotch was very much exposed. Richard knew where some of Kinzie’s lipstick went, because some remnants of her shade were between Mckayla’s legs.
“It’s the old guy from before!” Kinzie hissed, and they both darted into a stall.
“Looks like this one has other stuff going on,” Natalie quipped, and pulled Richard out and into the men’s. She led him to a stall, pushed him inside and said, “Take off your pants.”
Richard’s fingers flew to his crotch where they momentarily seemed to forget how to unbuckle a belt.
“Let me help,” Natalie said with an eye roll. She sank to her knees and was much more adept at getting Richard’s pants off than he seemed to be. She made no pretense of why they were there as she yanked down his underwear. She took his cock in her hand, holding it up to be level with her face. Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.
“Oh fuck! That was fast!” he said. His mojo was back! It might not have worked the way he’d planned, but a win was still a-
He felt it then. A telltale shudder. He’d felt it many, many times while he and his wife made love. A shudder was the telltale sign of a bodyhopper moving into a new host. But it continued to happen intermittently while the hopper remained inside. It was a brief struggle of one soul dominating the other. It was like a reflex, and could even be done while a hopper slept, but it was also very noticeable, especially for someone who had been around hoppers as much as Richard.
“Seriously Nancy! Again!” he said as he pushed Natalie’s head back. He’d really been enjoying himself too, but his dick was suddenly deflating as he realized he’d been duped.
The woman’s face looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought I could get you off real quick before I shuddered and then you’d have a win and you could take me upstairs and fuck.”
Richard frowned, pissed that he was still 0 for 2. “Well, you almost got me there. Another 20 seconds of your world class dick sucking and I would have busted all over your face.”
She reached up and stroked his cock, which twitched hopefully in her hand. “You still could, darling. Seriously. I’m so horny in this body. I’d love it if you took me right here in this stall.”
Richard had to hand it to his wife. She could bring out the sluttiest part of any woman. He could take her right here and she’d never know because of how Nancy could alter her memories. But he shook his head and helped her to her feet.
“Wait! When did you even hop her?” he asked as he pulled his pants up.
She gave a small smile. “I’d just arrived to take your drink order when you got up to leave her table. A second later I was her, and pulled you into the bathroom so you wouldn’t notice the bartender right behind us.”
“That was so funny seeing those two girls in the bathroom.”
“That’s why I took you in there first. Did you see the lipstick on the one girl’s hoo ha?”
“Oh yeah.”
The couple burst out laughing, but then Richard said, “Okay, I’m going back out there. No help this time, understood?”
Nancy slumped Natalie’s shoulders. “I don’t think you know how much I want you to succeed, dear. I really need it right now. I might just rub one out in the stall real quick when you leave. Unless you want to watch?” She began to unbutton her blouse while she bit her lower lip. “You could still help this uptight business woman unwind?”
Richard left in a hurry before his wife could tempt him further. What did he do to deserve such a seductive creature?
As he left the restroom, he eyed the occupants of the bar with new determination. Third time’s the charm. He’d just…pick someone closer to his age. Not his preferred choice, but a gal with experience could certainly bring a lot to the table, or in this case, the bedroom. He pocketed his wedding ring as he circled the perimeter, finally coming back near the entrance where other hotel guests passed close by.
It was there he saw someone he’d passed by earlier. A woman in her early 40’s that he hadn’t really considered. She was quite striking though with her long auburn hair and legs that went on for miles. Richard thought she somewhat resembled Nancy in the face. And also the boobs. The woman was stacked.
She had a duffel bag on the chair next to her. Richard put a hand on the handle of the bag and said, “Mind if I move this so I can have a seat?” As he started to lift it, it began to shake. And growl.
The woman’s eyebrows shot up and she protectively reached for it and pulled it onto her lap. “Have a seat if you must, but Daisy doesn’t like to be jostled unnecessarily.”
Out of the top of the bag popped the face of an adorable Yorkshire terrier. Her furry brown face looked up into his and gave a small yip.
“Good girl,” the woman said with a small smile as she pulled the terrier out of the bag and put her on her lap. “She can be a very good judge of character. You must be a bad man.” The terrier growled at him.
Richard put his hands up and chuckled, then said to the small dog, “I can assure you I meant no harm little lady.” He held out a hand for her to sniff. The terrier did, and then gave his palm a lick.
The woman assessed him, and by her expression, she liked what she saw. “Perhaps you’re not terrible. Go ahead and have a seat.”
Richard did so. “I didn’t know you could have dogs in here.”
“You probably can’t,” the woman said with an air of indifference. “But she’s my emotional support animal. That’s what I tell everyone anyways.”
This annoyed Richard, but he tried hard to focus on her figure, something which the woman didn’t seem to mind him eyeing. “So, what’s your sign?”
This elicited a shrill laugh from the woman. “I haven’t heard that one in awhile.”
“I really need to get some new material.”
“Do you find yourself coming out to hotel bars often enough that you need to constantly refresh it?”
“Er, no,” Richard said. “I usually just stick with the basics. Like, hi, I’m Richard, and you are a very beautiful woman that I would like to get to know better.”
She cocked her head at him, studying him closely like a cat might before pouncing on a mouse, then said, “That was a much better line. I’m Crystal. What would you like to know?”
The two hit it off, and Richard found Crystal’s banter refreshing. She didn’t look at him like he was ancient, or pitied him in any way. Best of all though, she hadn’t shuddered once.
They were mid conversation discussing childhood pets when the bartender came up and asked, “Can I get you two anything?”
“I’ll take a bourbon,” Richard said, not taking his eyes away from Crystal.
“Nothing for me,” Crystal said as she tapped a glass she’d barely touched.
They both just stared at each other, mirroring a smile that belied a bubbling chemistry under the surface.
The spell was momentarily broken by the sound of the bartender clearing her throat. “Will you be taking that bourbon up to your room…sir?”
Richard looked up at the raven haired bartender. “In a bit. We’re in no rush.”
The bartender’s eyes narrowed, and her smile became tight lipped. “Of course…sir. By all means, take your time.”
As she walked away, she touched the shoulder of a woman passing by, who shuddered. That woman whispered something into the bartender’s ear, who went about her duties a moment later.
Richard was oblivious to this. He was enjoying the massive ego boost Crystal was giving him. He found himself opening up to her, sharing things like it was a first date. He was used to seeing different women all the time, but the conversation was always the same, because his wife knew everything about him. This was nice, so much so that he didn’t mind talking and throwing back a few. He was slightly worried that he’d pissed Nancy off, because she acted like she didn’t know him whenever she brought the drinks.
“Well, this has been lovely,” Crystal finally said. “But I should be going.”
“Oh, um, I was wondering if you wanted to…” Richard started, not entirely sure how to seal the deal.
She grinned at him and finished the proposition for him. “If I wanted to come up to your room and we have casual sex like grown adults?”
“Uh…” Richard stammered. “Y-yeah. I guess…that.”
“You’re very cute when you’re flustered.”
“Well if you’d like to see me flustered you should see me try to take my pants off when I’m really excited.”
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After an accident, Anna is bedridden until she receives from an unknown donor a watch and a collar that allows her to transfer her mind to other people.Anna is a slim girl, blonde with long hair, around 30 years old, who was active, worked in a bank branch, played sports and enjoyed life. She flirted with men, and had been dating a couple for some time, but at that time she had no deep relationship. Then came the fateful trip to the Alps, where she slipped and was transported unconscious to the hospital. They saved her life there, but Anna remained paralyzed from the chest down, bedridden and dependent on the help of others. After many weeks in the hospital, she found herself in her apartment, which her parents and a friend helped to arrange for her new living situation.Her friend and former elementary school classmate Veronika became her greatest support. Veronika was a petite brunette with a mika who had graduated from medical school and had just been left by her partner. She agreed with Anna that she would move in with her and take care of her and help her.So they lived together for a few weeks. Veronika took care of the household, and Anna, confined to her bed, was involved as far as possible in remote work at the bank, from which both friends had some funds. One day, a messenger rang at their door, greeted and handed Veronica a package marked "for Anna". Both girls were surprised what it was, they didn't expect any shipment. Veronika sat down next to Anna's bed and unwrapped the package in front of her. The package contained a smart watch, a collar and a specially sealed letter. Veronika also unglued it and put it in the holder above the bed for Anna to read.
Anna is a slim girl, blonde with long hair, around 30 years old, who was active, worked in a bank branch, played sports and enjoyed life. She flirted with men, and had been dating a couple for some time, but at that time she had no deep relationship. Then came the fateful trip to the Alps, where she slipped and was transported unconscious to the hospital. They saved her life there, but Anna remained paralyzed from the chest down, bedridden and dependent on the help of others. After many weeks in the hospital, she found herself in her apartment, which her parents and a friend helped to arrange for her new living situation.
Her friend and former elementary school classmate Veronika became her greatest support. Veronika was a petite brunette with a mika who had graduated from medical school and had just been left by her partner. She agreed with Anna that she would move in with her and take care of her and help her.
So they lived together for a few weeks. Veronika took care of the household, and Anna, confined to her bed, was involved as far as possible in remote work at the bank, from which both friends had some funds. One day, a messenger rang at their door, greeted and handed Veronica a package marked "for Anna". Both girls were surprised what it was, they didn't expect any shipment. Veronika sat down next to Anna's bed and unwrapped the package in front of her. The package contained a smart watch, a collar and a specially sealed letter. Veronika also unglued it and put it in the holder above the bed for Anna to read.
Dear Anna,
we selected you for the program to try out our new product and we believe that you and your girlfriend will use it to its full potential. In addition to the usual functions, the smart watch you received will allow you to rejoin an active life. This gift of ours is no secret, but for your own sake, be careful who you confide in about your new abilities.
We attach instructions for using the special application:
Double-tapping the display and circling the perimeter of the display with your finger will allow the smart watch wearer's consciousness to be recorded in their memory. Only one person's consciousness can be uploaded to the smart watch's memory at a time.
If one person's memory is recorded in the smart watch, the wearer of the smart watch has access to the consciousness stored in the smart watch, and conversely, the owner of the consciousness in the smart watch has access to the consciousness of the wearer, and thus they can communicate with each other on a subconscious level.
A double tap on the display and one circling of the finger around the perimeter of the display uploads the consciousness from the smart watch's memory into the wearer's brain, a second circling around the perimeter in close sequence then transfers the original consciousness of the new smart watch wearer to the smart watch's memory.
Pressing the upper right button on the side of the smart watch and circling the upper half of the display from left to right will enable the owner of the smart watch to actively use the wearer's mouth, moving in the opposite direction along the upper half of the display will reverse the situation. If the upper circle is followed by the lower circle (from right to left), on the contrary, the wearer of the smart watch will be prevented from using speech.
Pressing the lower right button and circling the upper half of the entire perimeter of the display will allow the owner of the smart watch to take control of the motor movements of the wearer (movements of the hands, feet, head, etc.) and, conversely, prevent the control of the motor movements of the wearer.
The middle button allows you to change the voice at the same time as changing the speech control while wearing the included collar.
Anna looked questioningly at Veronika, who also read the letter at the same time. She just winked, smiled and put the smart watch on Anna's left hand. She read the instructions carefully once more, then tapped on the display, made a 360° movement with her finger on the display. Then she looked at Anna, her eyes were closed, she was breathing lightly and did not respond to Veronica's question. She took the smart watch off Anna's hand again and put it on her own hand. As she stood up, she wanted to go to the kitchen, but she stopped immediately, clutching the chair with one hand, as she was startled by the voices that began to run in her head - Anna's voices: "Hello, is anyone here?" The surprise lasted only a short moment, Veronika pressed the button on the smart watch, made a 180° movement from left to right and thus allowed Anna to speak with her mouth and voice. It took a while for the girls to coordinate when each was speaking, but soon Veronika was standing in the kitchen, preparing food and talking together, satisfied with how the smart watch worked.
After lunch and afternoon coffee they agreed to try another function, Veronika tapped the display again and made a movement on the display. The side of the smart watch changed color from blue to green. As they agreed, Anna tried to lift Veronica's body - and she succeeded. Now the movements of Veronica's body were controlled by Anna. She walked around the room and Veronika complimented her on how she was doing and that she hadn't forgotten anything. In the meantime, Anna reached Veronika's bedroom, apologized to her, lay down on her back and began to settle down. After a while, she reached her orgasm and lay on the bed with a smile, breathing lightly. Veronika didn't blame her, she understood that after many months of sexual fasting, the opportunity was too tempting.
After a few days, their mutual friend and Anna's work colleague Alice called Veronica and invited Veronica to a restaurant for dinner with some other friends. Before Veronika could react, Anna responded and confirmed to Alice that she would arrive.
In the early evening, Veronika and Anna were preparing for the meeting, Veronika was putting on her dress and Anna's suggestion decided to wear the collar from Anna's package. She arrived at the meeting on time and just sat quietly at the table for a while listening to the others talk, Anna subconsciously urging her to join in the fun. Veronika resisted for a while, but when Michal, who she liked, sat down next to her, she gave in and they started talking. About how everyone lives, how everyone is doing, that they have a common interest in cooking. After some time, Alice also joined their group and started arranging a joint weekend cycling event with Michal and other boys and girls. She said to Veronika: "I suppose you won't go when you're taking care of Anička." To her surprise, Veronika responded that she would.
After the party, Veronika and Alice walked part of the way home together. Alice was a slender dark-haired girl with braided hair, inconspicuous rimless glasses, always perfectly dressed in a costume. Alice asked Veronica: "You surprised me that you wanted to go with us for the weekend. What will happen to Anča? Who will take care of her?" Veronika was silent for a while, subconsciously asking Anna what to say and how to react. Anna was in favor of introducing Alice to her new cohabitation. After walking in silence for a while, Veronika replied: "You know, something has happened that I don't have to worry about Anča anymore." Then Veronika used the smart watch to hand over the voice control to Anna and also set the voice change using the collar. Anna then continued in her voice (in Veronica's body): “Hi Alice, I'll go with you too.” Alice flinched, stopped and looked at Veronica. "You know, I was given such a gift and now I can share someone else's body because of it," Anna continued. "That's unbelievable," Alice said. The girls then continued walking home. Anna and Alice continued to walk and chatted amicably about Anna's new possibilities. When they said goodbye, they agreed to meet in a few days at Anna and Veronica's house.
The next day, Anna's parents were supposed to come to visit her. Unlike Alice, where Anna believed that she would understand the situation, she was afraid that her parents were not ready for such news. In the morning, the girls in Veronica's body enjoyed sexual satisfaction for a while, when one and the other took turns controlling Veronica's body. After lunch, however, they pulled Anna's mind back into the smart watch and Veronika attached the smart watch to the arm of Anna's body and returned Anna's mind to her body. It took a while for Anna to wake up from her sleep, she sighed, “Back in her body.” But soon she was cheerful as Veronika encouraged her that it wasn't for long. During the visit of Anna's parents, both girls were cheerful, all four of them had fun together, and Anna's mother was happy that her daughter was doing better mentally and thanked Veronica for helping Anna not only with the service, but also mentally. The girls just winked at each other, but didn't reveal anything.
In a few days, Alice was heading to Anna and Veronika's house. She thought to herself again what an incredible thing Anna had gotten. But she liked the idea of sharing her body with another person and was looking forward to enjoying the afternoon with her friends, so she prepared a surprise for them.
Alice rang the front doorbell, greeted Veronica and Anna, they made coffee and sat down in armchairs for dessert. After half an hour of social conversation, when they successfully avoided the topic started when they returned from the party, Veronika asked Alice if she would like to try lending her body to Anna for a while. Alice nodded with a smile and without further explanation began to remove her sweater and the pants she had come in. Underneath, she wore a black latex bodysuit with a high neckline and matching tights. Veronika's eyes widened, surprised at what she saw, but she only lasted a moment and then happily commented on how Alice had prepared for the afternoon. She didn't hesitate and ran to the bedroom to change as well. Meanwhile, Alice also took black gloves from her bag. When Veronika returned after a while in a similarly sexy red-black latex suit, she allowed Anna to control her body and mouth by circling the smart watch display. Immediately Anna spoke up (in Veronika's body): "Yes, girls, thanks." She first touched her body dressed in a latex outfit and then enjoyed herself with Alice. During the course she commented how it was better this way than when she had to satisfy herself (in Veronica's body).
After some time, Anna asked Alice if she could try her body too. Alice agreed without hesitation: "You know you do, I'm looking forward to what it will be like." Once again, Anna allowed Veronica to take control of her body and Verča then removed the smart watch from her hand and handed it to Alice, who put it on her hand and Veronika explained to her how she would allow Anna to control her body and mouth. Immediately Alice spoke up, actually Anna in Alice's body: "Thank you Alice, thank you Verčo." The possibilities are really incredible." The girls continued to have fun, this time Veronika with Anna in Alice's body. After some time, Anna had an idea - when the girls had enjoyed themselves, she took off her smart watch and, blinking, handed it to Veronica. She immediately joked, smiled, put on her smart watch and with the usual circular motion allowed Alice to control her body. Veronica's figure stood in confusion for a moment, then Alice saw her own laughing body in front of her and shouted, "What's going on?"
She looked at herself, turned to the mirror and saw Veronica—herself—and laughed too. "You dragons too," she called out to Anna (in Alice's body).
"How did you like it and do you like it?" asked Anna.
"Incredibly. It's a very strange feeling when your body does what it wants and when you say something you don't really want to. And now it's also incredible - to be in someone else. Have a different voice. Not wearing glasses. Come on, let's have some more fun," she invited Anna.
When Alice started talking about another voice, she realized that she had actually received a collar in addition to the smart watch, and they could try it on now. She replied to Alice (in Veronica's body), "Wait a minute," and ran off. After a while she returned with the collar and put it on Alice. She asked why, but Anna responded that it was not just an ordinary collar. And Alice was beginning to suspect. Anna motioned for her to press the middle button on the smart watch, which Alice promptly did.
"Try to tell me something now," Anna challenged Alice.
"And what should I say?" Alice responded, then stopped short. Although she was still in Veronica's body and had gotten used to speaking in her voice, now her own voice was heard.
"I kept wondering how you and Veronika did it back then. So now it's clear to me. You also wore this collar at the party then.'
The girls continued to evaluate their last experiences for a while and then enjoyed the sexual games for a while. The afternoon drew to a close and Alice returned the body to Veronica, who then handed the smart watch to Anna (in Alice's body) and the girls then switched bodies. Alice regaining control of her own body returned the smart watch to Veronica allowing Anna to share her mouth and they said their goodbyes.
Anna is a slim girl, blonde with long hair, around 30 years old, who was active, worked in a bank branch, played sports and enjoyed life. She flirted with men, and had been dating a couple for some time, but at that time she had no deep relationship. Then came the fateful trip to the Alps, where she slipped and was transported unconscious to the hospital. They saved her life there, but Anna remained paralyzed from the chest down, bedridden and dependent on the help of others. After many weeks in the hospital, she found herself in her apartment, which her parents and a friend helped to arrange for her new living situation.
Her friend and former elementary school classmate Veronika became her greatest support. Veronika was a petite brunette with a mika who had graduated from medical school and had just been left by her partner. She agreed with Anna that she would move in with her and take care of her and help her.
So they lived together for a few weeks. Veronika took care of the household, and Anna, confined to her bed, was involved as far as possible in remote work at the bank, from which both friends had some funds. One day, a messenger rang at their door, greeted and handed Veronica a package marked "for Anna". Both girls were surprised what it was, they didn't expect any shipment. Veronika sat down next to Anna's bed and unwrapped the package in front of her. The package contained a smart watch, a collar and a specially sealed letter. Veronika also unglued it and put it in the holder above the bed for Anna to read.
Dear Anna,
we selected you for the program to try out our new product and we believe that you and your girlfriend will use it to its full potential. In addition to the usual functions, the smart watch you received will allow you to rejoin an active life. This gift of ours is no secret, but for your own sake, be careful who you confide in about your new abilities.
We attach instructions for using the special application:
Double-tapping the display and circling the perimeter of the display with your finger will allow the smart watch wearer's consciousness to be recorded in their memory. Only one person's consciousness can be uploaded to the smart watch's memory at a time.
If one person's memory is recorded in the smart watch, the wearer of the smart watch has access to the consciousness stored in the smart watch, and conversely, the owner of the consciousness in the smart watch has access to the consciousness of the wearer, and thus they can communicate with each other on a subconscious level.
A double tap on the display and one circling of the finger around the perimeter of the display uploads the consciousness from the smart watch's memory into the wearer's brain, a second circling around the perimeter in close sequence then transfers the original consciousness of the new smart watch wearer to the smart watch's memory.
Pressing the upper right button on the side of the smart watch and circling the upper half of the display from left to right will enable the owner of the smart watch to actively use the wearer's mouth, moving in the opposite direction along the upper half of the display will reverse the situation. If the upper circle is followed by the lower circle (from right to left), on the contrary, the wearer of the smart watch will be prevented from using speech.
Pressing the lower right button and circling the upper half of the entire perimeter of the display will allow the owner of the smart watch to take control of the motor movements of the wearer (movements of the hands, feet, head, etc.) and, conversely, prevent the control of the motor movements of the wearer.
The middle button allows you to change the voice at the same time as changing the speech control while wearing the included collar.
Anna looked questioningly at Veronika, who also read the letter at the same time. She just winked, smiled and put the smart watch on Anna's left hand. She read the instructions carefully once more, then tapped on the display, made a 360° movement with her finger on the display. Then she looked at Anna, her eyes were closed, she was breathing lightly and did not respond to Veronica's question. She took the smart watch off Anna's hand again and put it on her own hand. As she stood up, she wanted to go to the kitchen, but she stopped immediately, clutching the chair with one hand, as she was startled by the voices that began to run in her head - Anna's voices: "Hello, is anyone here?" The surprise lasted only a short moment, Veronika pressed the button on the smart watch, made a 180° movement from left to right and thus allowed Anna to speak with her mouth and voice. It took a while for the girls to coordinate when each was speaking, but soon Veronika was standing in the kitchen, preparing food and talking together, satisfied with how the smart watch worked.
After lunch and afternoon coffee they agreed to try another function, Veronika tapped the display again and made a movement on the display. The side of the smart watch changed color from blue to green. As they agreed, Anna tried to lift Veronica's body - and she succeeded. Now the movements of Veronica's body were controlled by Anna. She walked around the room and Veronika complimented her on how she was doing and that she hadn't forgotten anything. In the meantime, Anna reached Veronika's bedroom, apologized to her, lay down on her back and began to settle down. After a while, she reached her orgasm and lay on the bed with a smile, breathing lightly. Veronika didn't blame her, she understood that after many months of sexual fasting, the opportunity was too tempting.
After a few days, their mutual friend and Anna's work colleague Alice called Veronica and invited Veronica to a restaurant for dinner with some other friends. Before Veronika could react, Anna responded and confirmed to Alice that she would arrive.
In the early evening, Veronika and Anna were preparing for the meeting, Veronika was putting on her dress and Anna's suggestion decided to wear the collar from Anna's package. She arrived at the meeting on time and just sat quietly at the table for a while listening to the others talk, Anna subconsciously urging her to join in the fun. Veronika resisted for a while, but when Michal, who she liked, sat down next to her, she gave in and they started talking. About how everyone lives, how everyone is doing, that they have a common interest in cooking. After some time, Alice also joined their group and started arranging a joint weekend cycling event with Michal and other boys and girls. She said to Veronika: "I suppose you won't go when you're taking care of Anička." To her surprise, Veronika responded that she would.
After the party, Veronika and Alice walked part of the way home together. Alice was a slender dark-haired girl with braided hair, inconspicuous rimless glasses, always perfectly dressed in a costume. Alice asked Veronica: "You surprised me that you wanted to go with us for the weekend. What will happen to Anča? Who will take care of her?" Veronika was silent for a while, subconsciously asking Anna what to say and how to react. Anna was in favor of introducing Alice to her new cohabitation. After walking in silence for a while, Veronika replied: "You know, something has happened that I don't have to worry about Anča anymore." Then Veronika used the smart watch to hand over the voice control to Anna and also set the voice change using the collar. Anna then continued in her voice (in Veronica's body): “Hi Alice, I'll go with you too.” Alice flinched, stopped and looked at Veronica. "You know, I was given such a gift and now I can share someone else's body because of it," Anna continued. "That's unbelievable," Alice said. The girls then continued walking home. Anna and Alice continued to walk and chatted amicably about Anna's new possibilities. When they said goodbye, they agreed to meet in a few days at Anna and Veronica's house.
The next day, Anna's parents were supposed to come to visit her. Unlike Alice, where Anna believed that she would understand the situation, she was afraid that her parents were not ready for such news. In the morning, the girls in Veronica's body enjoyed sexual satisfaction for a while, when one and the other took turns controlling Veronica's body. After lunch, however, they pulled Anna's mind back into the smart watch and Veronika attached the smart watch to the arm of Anna's body and returned Anna's mind to her body. It took a while for Anna to wake up from her sleep, she sighed, “Back in her body.” But soon she was cheerful as Veronika encouraged her that it wasn't for long. During the visit of Anna's parents, both girls were cheerful, all four of them had fun together, and Anna's mother was happy that her daughter was doing better mentally and thanked Veronica for helping Anna not only with the service, but also mentally. The girls just winked at each other, but didn't reveal anything.
In a few days, Alice was heading to Anna and Veronika's house. She thought to herself again what an incredible thing Anna had gotten. But she liked the idea of sharing her body with another person and was looking forward to enjoying the afternoon with her friends, so she prepared a surprise for them.
Alice rang the front doorbell, greeted Veronica and Anna, they made coffee and sat down in armchairs for dessert. After half an hour of social conversation, when they successfully avoided the topic started when they returned from the party, Veronika asked Alice if she would like to try lending her body to Anna for a while. Alice nodded with a smile and without further explanation began to remove her sweater and the pants she had come in. Underneath, she wore a black latex bodysuit with a high neckline and matching tights. Veronika's eyes widened, surprised at what she saw, but she only lasted a moment and then happily commented on how Alice had prepared for the afternoon. She didn't hesitate and ran to the bedroom to change as well. Meanwhile, Alice also took black gloves from her bag. When Veronika returned after a while in a similarly sexy red-black latex suit, she allowed Anna to control her body and mouth by circling the smart watch display. Immediately Anna spoke up (in Veronika's body): "Yes, girls, thanks." She first touched her body dressed in a latex outfit and then enjoyed herself with Alice. During the course she commented how it was better this way than when she had to satisfy herself (in Veronica's body).
After some time, Anna asked Alice if she could try her body too. Alice agreed without hesitation: "You know you do, I'm looking forward to what it will be like." Once again, Anna allowed Veronica to take control of her body and Verča then removed the smart watch from her hand and handed it to Alice, who put it on her hand and Veronika explained to her how she would allow Anna to control her body and mouth. Immediately Alice spoke up, actually Anna in Alice's body: "Thank you Alice, thank you Verčo." The possibilities are really incredible." The girls continued to have fun, this time Veronika with Anna in Alice's body. After some time, Anna had an idea - when the girls had enjoyed themselves, she took off her smart watch and, blinking, handed it to Veronica. She immediately joked, smiled, put on her smart watch and with the usual circular motion allowed Alice to control her body. Veronica's figure stood in confusion for a moment, then Alice saw her own laughing body in front of her and shouted, "What's going on?"
She looked at herself, turned to the mirror and saw Veronica—herself—and laughed too. "You dragons too," she called out to Anna (in Alice's body).
"How did you like it and do you like it?" asked Anna.
"Incredibly. It's a very strange feeling when your body does what it wants and when you say something you don't really want to. And now it's also incredible - to be in someone else. Have a different voice. Not wearing glasses. Come on, let's have some more fun," she invited Anna.
When Alice started talking about another voice, she realized that she had actually received a collar in addition to the smart watch, and they could try it on now. She replied to Alice (in Veronica's body), "Wait a minute," and ran off. After a while she returned with the collar and put it on Alice. She asked why, but Anna responded that it was not just an ordinary collar. And Alice was beginning to suspect. Anna motioned for her to press the middle button on the smart watch, which Alice promptly did.
"Try to tell me something now," Anna challenged Alice.
"And what should I say?" Alice responded, then stopped short. Although she was still in Veronica's body and had gotten used to speaking in her voice, now her own voice was heard.
"I kept wondering how you and Veronika did it back then. So now it's clear to me. You also wore this collar at the party then.'
The girls continued to evaluate their last experiences for a while and then enjoyed the sexual games for a while. The afternoon drew to a close and Alice returned the body to Veronica, who then handed the smart watch to Anna (in Alice's body) and the girls then switched bodies. Alice regaining control of her own body returned the smart watch to Veronica allowing Anna to share her mouth and they said their goodbyes.
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During a dream, humankind gets a vision of an upcoming event: each individual on earth will soon be merged with someone of the opposite sex.
***
Prologue
One day, Humanity shared a common dream. Every person on Earth, as they slept, dreamt the same vision. In it, they could see themselves and others pulled toward someone of the other sex. As their two bodies collided, they were becoming one single being. One body of two minds. As people woke up, they could feel it: a deep knowledge that it wasn’t only a dream, but some kind of prophecy.
The pragmatics thought of it as Mother Nature fighting against human overpopulation. The poets preferred to think it was a restitution to our primal form where men and women were only the two halves of the same entities.
Sure, there were a few deniers, like there’s always some for Climate Change, but most people knew this day would soon come, the day of an event they soon started to call The Great Merge.
***
Sean
My name, at that time in that place, was Sean. In a few days, I was officially starting college there in my hometown, while my girlfriend Ann was moving away for her studies. I wasn’t particularly worried about it: our relationship had started as early as middle school and was so strong I knew it could even survive years and years of distance. But still, we wouldn’t be able to spend each day together like we did until now, so I wasn’t looking forward to it. To add to the injury, Ann was going to pursue a brilliant career in the medical field thanks to her perfect grades while my medium scores and not-so-wealthy family confined me to a local community college. I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous.
“Don’t worry, honey. It’s just a matter of time anyway. We’ll be one in no time, so we’ll enjoy my new university together soon enough!”
That’s what Ann was always telling me when I shared my mixed feelings towards our future. We were often seen as the perfect couple. I believed in her love for me as much as mine for her. So when the Dream occurred, it was only natural for us to conclude we would fuse with one another. Even if the idea of losing their identity was scary for everyone, Ann and I felt like it was the most romantic thing that could happen to us. There was excitement mixed in the fear. But what if the Great Merge happened while she was away? Would it still work? Would it make her merge with a random dude from her school? Nobody knew for sure, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance, that’s why I was making sure to be with her as much as I could since the Dream.
Enjoying our last moments of summer, we were spending the afternoon at my friend Jason’s place. Jason's family was quite wealthy and owned a big house with a pool, so it was often him inviting us over and during summer vacation, we almost spent more time there than in our own houses. I stared dreamily at Ann as she got out of the bathroom in her newly brought red bikini. “Wow…” I was the luckiest man on earth. She was wearing her wavy brown hair in a ponytail and her usual fair skin had taken a golden hue from all our time here. An angel. Not only was she the smartest girl I knew with her already mentioned unparalleled academic prowess, she was the most beautiful in the whole world. Sure, I don’t claim I was the most objective, but still. Those green eyes, that cute little nose, and that damn smile… An embarrassed smile that, at that moment, was asking me why I was still looking at her like the first day we met.
“I swear next time I’m going in a diving suit.” she joked.
“Pretty sure you’d still rock it anyway.” I replied.
I loved how humble she managed to stay despite her perfect hourglass figure. She always had this shyness when it came to our desires for one another. I knew she had a kinky side that she was always too embarrassed to show me, like those erotic comics she hid in her room, or the way she blushed when watching a sex scene in a movie. Her modesty was probably the only thing I could see as a default about her personality. She could be a bit passive during our intimacy, but really it was nit-picking. Because yes, having the brain and the looks wasn’t enough for her, she also had to be the most kind-hearted person, making her popular not only with the teachers but every student in our old school.
“Come on, love birds. there’s only a few hours of sun left already!” called out Jason.
He was a great friend. Very sporty, outgoing, and full of confidence. I wasn't especially lacking in that department myself –how could I with Ann at my side– but I've always been a lot more reserved. He had sandy blond hair and a radiant smile that felt very inviting, making him the target of lots of girls' attention.
"Carrie's not here?" I asked him.
"Nah, we split yesterday," he answered casually.
Nothing to be surprised about, it was bound to happen. Jason's adventures never lasted long, as he could be very frivolous. He liked girls but not much commitment, and they often felt insecure in their relationship with him because of his popularity. He never cheated on them, but never reassured them much either. That was the same story with his previous girlfriend.
"Aww, too bad. I really liked Carrie, she was sweet," said Ann who was holding my hand as we walked to the pool area.
A big sliding door was opening directly on the bluest pool, taking much of the space. On our right was a neatly mown lawn and on our left was a stone wall matching the pool’s tiles. At the far end was a big modern pergola shading the lounge chairs under it. There, a familiar silhouette greeted us: “Hey, guys!”
The squeaky voice belonged to Jason's little sister Sheril. The little goblin was always clinging to us like a tick. I cringed at the harsh thought. She wasn't THAT bad. Sheril was a sophomore in our old high school. My guess was that, like most girls from her grade, she saw Ann as a role model or something, and because of that, she spent as much time as she could with us. She was nice, but often tried to monopolize our attention, talking loudly and frequently interrupting us. At the beginning of the vacation, Jason had tried to get rid of her multiple times but quickly forfeited as he often did with her relentless stubbornness. Ann didn't seem to mind her as much as I did as she always seemed impossible to annoy. For that reason, I had to also give up, just trying to ignore her as much as I could.
"How are you today? Do you want to play a game of tag or something? Hey, Ann! Have you seen my new ribbons? I bought them yesterday with Mom. She says they match with my eyes, what do you think?" She started rumbling as she jumped out of the chair and skipped around like a pestering fly.
Despite soon starting her last year of high school, Sheril was quite short for her age, not very developed, and wore her blonde hair in characteristic long and curly pigtails. Because of that, she could almost fool people into thinking she was still a child. Her current swimsuit, a white one-piece with pink flowers, was not helping her case. Despite that, she was definitely cute in her own way. She had big and very light blue eyes. Her button nose and rosy cheeks were covered in freckles and her overall facial features were free of imperfections. She had great potential if she started acting and dressing like her age, but for now, it was difficult to see more in her than a pesky kid.
I gave Ann a knowing smile and let her tank Sheril's attention for the moment. She didn't seem to mind and patiently responded to her endless chatting. I dived into the water with Jason for a few laps.
"So... What's your plan for the Great Merge now?" I asked Jason as we chilled on the other side of the pool. It was an obvious question to ask after his breakup with Carrie.
"Dunno, man. Guess I have to find a new girl soon, heh?" He answered, clearly not too worried.
"I mean, I would if I were you. You don't want to merge with your sister, I presume." I smirked.
He splashed water on my face. "Ugh! Please, no. But we have time, right? I mean everyone says it will happen on New Year's Eve.”
It was a popular rumor. There was no way to know for sure, but since the dream happened a few months prior, people were starting to relax to the idea it wouldn't happen right away.
"Maybe, yeah. But you can't be too cautious about that. Plus it's not like you lack the choice of partner. Half the girls in school want to fuck you, man."
He chuckled. "You really think I'm some kind of sex god or something? If you were not already in your perfect little couple, I'd think you have a crush on me, bro."
It was my turn to splash water at him.
"No but seriously, it must be so cool to have no doubts. You're going to spend your life stuck with your soulmate... You're one lucky dude, man." He said with more seriousness than usual.
"Yeah, I guess I am..." I answered, looking at my reflection in the pool. I couldn't mutter the strength to admit I also had doubts. Sure, being the other half of your half, it seemed like destiny, I couldn't deny that. And even if most of my mind was happy with this perspective, another, deeper part was sad. Who would we be in love with once we'd be one single being?
My thoughts were cut short by the sound of Sheril jumping in the pool. She quickly joined us, with Ann more gracefully following behind her.
"Let's play Chicken Fight!" yelled Sheril, a bit too enthusiastically.
"Again?" complained Jason. I shared the feeling: we played Chicken Fight every time we went to their pool. Well, at least it was a good excuse to caress Ann's smooth legs...
"Yes, but let's switch this time! I want to go on Sean's back!" said his sister in her bratty tone.
It took me by surprise. "Huh? Why?"
"Being on Jason is boring. He's, like, the worst horse. I just want to try out, pleaaaase!" she begged.
I wasn't keen on the idea at all, for obvious reasons. I was ready to rebuke the idea when Ann intervened: "Come on, guys. Try to be good sports, it's only for a few rounds."
Of course. Ann, the voice of reason. How could I say no to those eyes? I sighed and accepted. Seeing Jason take Ann on his back raised in me a pinch of jealousy, but I knew it was unfounded since I had complete trust in both of them. I crouched in the shallow water to let Sheril put her scrawny legs around my shoulders. Lifting her was the easiest thing in the world, and that was when I realized how underbalanced our two teams were: generally, Jason's bulk made up for Sheril's weak arms, which could then compete with our more standard duo. Me and Sheril had no chance.
Jason seemed to have done the same math. He grinned at me with his dashing smile, and charged.
"You okay up there?" I asked Sheril when we rose back from the depth, disoriented.
"Uh-huh. Let's try again." She said, sounding less convincing than she probably wanted.
We brawled for a bit, trying to make the most of our only asset: swiftness. Sheril's light weight allowed me to move around as we spared and I could see Jason starting to tire faster than me. Sheril was laughing loudly, apparently enjoying being tossed in multiple directions. I had to admit that I was starting to have fun too as I saw a thin chance of a possible win.
That's when I saw it. I stopped in my tracks, trying to discern what I was witnessing.
Jason rushed to us when he saw me stop, and I had to stop him loudly: "WAIT!" I screamed. It seemed to work as attended. "W-what's going on with your hands?"
Jason's hands were holding firmly on Ann's thighs, but I couldn't seem to find any gaps between their skins. It looked like they were... fused. My heart sank at this thought. No, no, no, no.
Jason, noticing he couldn't move his hands off Ann, was slowly joining me in the realization. He jerked them violently. Instinctively, I tried to do the same, only to understand I was in the same predicament. My head was boiling with fear. Not now, not now, not now…
The girls took a few more seconds to notice, both screaming in horror. I joined sight with Ann. In the middle of her shock, I could see resignation and sadness starting to rise while her eyes were filling with tears. On my back, Sheril was thrusting and swinging like a mad girl, trying desperately to free herself from my hands that were slowly but surely disappearing into her legs. I tried to lift my head to her face, but it was now firmly glued to her crotch, locking my neck in place.
My eyes locked on Jason in front of me, whose hands had already entirely entered Ann. His head had started entering her abdomen. He looked at me with desperation. He said something to me. I couldn't hear anything behind the screams coming from the top, but I managed to read his lips: "I'm so sorry." After that, he walked towards the edge of the pool as his head completely disappeared inside Ann.
I stayed paralyzed for a few more seconds before my survival instinct kicked in. I tried walking too, but Sheril's hysterical tantrum made it impossible as we stumbled into the water more and more. My vision finally blackened. I fought a little more before I was unable to breathe, either because of water or Sheril's body, I couldn't say. My consciousness quickly-
***
Sheril
My name, at that moment in that place, was Sheril. I lived in the Sunny Hills, a calm suburb above the city, with my parents and my big brother Jason. In a few days, I was starting my last year of high school. It was cool in a way: seniors are the ones all the freshmen are looking up to, but who was I kidding? Nobody was looking up to me, figuratively and literally.
I was the scrawniest girl possible. Only Holly was worse in that category, but she had an illness or something, so she didn't count. I had no breasts to speak of, the flattest ass imaginable. Sure I wasn't ugly, but a cute face doesn't make up for the absence of a body.
My friend Sasha always told me I should wear sexier clothes, but she didn't know what she was talking about. She had tits for days, a bit too much even. What does revealing clothes do when you have nothing to reveal, really? Nothing, you just look stupid. I had to play with the cards in my hand, and my only card was cuteness. So I wore cutesy clothes. Not like my mom would have accepted anything more. If I listened to her, I'd go to school in a space suit. I preferred to be called a child than a nun, personally. At least I had a few guys looking at me. Not the right one, though.
Sean had been my big crush since I entered high school. Tall, half-Asian, jet-black hair hiding his deep black eyes... He was just my dream type, like right from a K-pop band. And it wasn't just his looks. He had that aura of mystery. That low and soothing voice. That shy side-smile that let you wonder what he was thinking about... and he was so romantic. The way he cared for his girlfriend was obvious and intense. Because, yes, Sean had a girlfriend. Not only did he have a girl, he had THE girl. Ann was, like, probably in the top 3 most popular girls in the whole school last year. She was so smart and beautiful, it was just unfair. And the worst part is that I couldn't hate the bitch for how nice she was. I was so jealous of her, it hurt. I couldn't help but compare myself all the time.
I was waiting on the lounging chairs, covered in solar cream. Last summer, I had ended up red as a beet, so I didn't want to risk it this time. I lifted a brace from my swimsuit and took a pick: almost no tan lines. I was just not made for summer. Sasha had invited me to join her at the mall, but I had told her I couldn't today. Because as usual, Sean was coming to the house.
“Ah, I hear them,” said Jason as he came out of the pool. “They prolly want to enjoy their last pool day in peace, Sheril, so don’t start pestering them like usual, huh?”
I stuck my tongue out. Gosh, Jason was the worst brother. He always treated me like I was 5 and I was so sick of it. That goof probably thought he was some sort of womanizer with how many girlfriends he had over the years. I knew the truth though: they broke up each time they realized how fucking dumb he was. His friendship with Sean was a mystery I never managed to crack, but I wasn’t complaining: at least my stupid brother was useful for one thing.
I rolled my eyes watching Jason walk back into the house. I pity the girl who’s going to merge with him…, I thought.
On the day of the Dream, I had first hoped I would merge with Ann so I could be with him. But I quickly understood it would only work with a guy. I of course imagined merging with him. It would be quite romantic in a way, but I realized it meant also killing all hopes of going out with him. But hearing them talk about it, I knew Sean and Ann wanted to merge together. It wouldn’t be so bad, actually: if they merged, they wouldn't be a couple anymore, it would be my chance! I just needed the right partner. I knew of a guy in school who had a crush on Ann (like half of them really). He wasn't too shabby so I told him about my plan. He seemed to be on board. Now I only needed to get closer to Sean before the merge, so he could see me as the next best thing!
At that moment, the door from the patio opened and Jason came out with his friends beside him. "Okay, Sheril, stay cool this time," I repeated to myself.
I beamed and greeted them as they arrived, showing them the new ribbons. Sadly, Sean didn't seem to care much and quickly went into the pool with Jason. Of course, I should have guessed ribbons were not the appropriate subject of conversation... stupid. Ann seemed a bit more interested though, and we talked a bit about our recent outfits. Ann has a great sense of fashion, sexy while keeping it modest enough. I wanted to master that, but I had hesitated to go too far in that direction. I didn't want people to see me as a tasteless copycat. Plus, it would hint a bit too much that I was trying to get Sean's intention by mimicking his girlfriend's style.
"Hum, Sheril?" she interrupted my train of thought. "How about we join the boys in the pool? I'm drying up with that sun."
"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" I said, hoping I wasn't bothering her. "Oh! We should go for a game of Chicken Fight! Do you think we can mix up the teams this time?"
I've been waiting to team up with Sean for once, but it was difficult breaking those two up. I hoped that, by asking Ann first, it wouldn't sound too desperate.
She took a second to answer. "Sure, why not? If the guys are okay."
After a bit more convincing, the guys accepted as well. Sweet! The idea of climbing on Sean's shoulders was already making my heart flutter. He lifted me with ease as I took the opportunity to caress his thick dark mane. What a treat! I was thankful to be in a pool at the time, as my face reddened like a tomato... I was soon put out of my daydreaming as the others shoved us into the water without warning. Jason was his usual brute, of course.
As I climbed back, Sean asked me if everything was alright. I felt like his personal little princess, it was magical! The second round went better. Sean was moving me around so much that I couldn't help myself laughing. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and yelled. "WAIT!"
I was surprised by the abruptness. "What's going on?" I asked, but Sean didn't react. Instead, he addressed Jason, asking him about his hands. I didn't understand, but I could feel my partner's body tensing underneath me. My brother started shaking around violently, and I finally saw it: his hands were stuck to Ann's legs. Not just stuck: fused, like tin on a circuit board. I screamed in horror and tried to get off Sean. No dice. "WHAT'S GOING ON!? WHAT'S GOING ON!?"
They couldn't answer me, too focused on their own thoughts and feelings. My mind was too alarmed to think straight, but as much as I tried to pull myself off his shoulder, I only felt like I was sinking deeper inside him. I finally understood as I saw my brother's face completely disappear inside Ann. The Merge, it was happening. I was merging with Sean! I didn't want to, I wasn't ready to die. I wasn't ready to become someone else. I cried and cried and pulled harder. In the end, Sean fell into the water. I couldn't break free. We were about to drown and I couldn't break free. My last sensation was his head moving inside my belly. How odd...
***
The Wake
Air pulling inside my lungs woke me in shock and pain. A mouth was on mine. I jerked away and coughed out a bunch of chlorine-filled water, the chemical smell stinking up my nose. My lungs were on fire, and it took me a few minutes of coughing to start breathing somewhat regularly again. Even more painful was my head. My brain felt like a throbbing core and my memories were in shambles. I couldn't think of anything before my wake without it burning my frontal lobe.
I focused on my environment. The sun was beating hard on my skin. The pool, yes. I know this place. I must have drowned. My chest felt compressed by a very tight fabric. A silhouette was shielding the beams from my eyes. I could only discern a vague shape. I should know them... my brother? I called the name that came to my mind: "J-jason? Is that... you?" my voice was weak in my biting throat.
The silhouette didn't respond, and got out of my sight, blinding me with the light. Jason... my brother? He's not, though. I don't have siblings... or do I? I decided to sit up to collect my thoughts. Keeping my eyes low to restore my sight, it was then that I saw my body for the first time. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, but I was certain without a doubt that it wasn't that. Something seemed wrong. I was bigger... or smaller? Definitely bigger in some areas, at least. I was wearing a loose swimming trunk over a constricting flowery one-piece. Both gears felt weird and familiar at the same time. What didn't feel familiar was the breasts on my chest. It was a lot bigger than what I was used to. It made sense since I wasn't used to anything at all... right?
My creamy white skin was sticky with solar protection. A reassuring fact since the sun was beating me for who knows how long. I crawled to the shady part of the patio, under the pergola. My mind was slowly but surely coming back to me. I was in my house. I was spending time with my friend and his sister, my girlfriend and my brother... and his friends. The number didn't seem right. Most of the common knowledge was still here, the hazy part was about my daily life. Too many incoherences.
As I sat back on my strangely ample bosom, on the darker side, I could see more clearly. Someone else was here, curled up against the decorative brick wall. They were holding their knees, staring into space. A girl, at first glance, though fairly muscular, with a boyish haircut. Her face... she looked like my girlfriend Ann. Ann... There was no doubt Ann was my girlfriend. For the first time, I was certain of someone's relationship with me. This girl's face looked so much like hers it was uncanny. Like a big sister, maybe. "She has a wider mouth", I thought. Her body was bigger though.
"Who...?" I tried to talk to her, but I wasn't sure what to ask. There was too much to sort out anyway, and she seemed also to have a lot on her mind. The sound of my voice was also new. Deeper... no, higher. Different, for sure. I took a long breath. The swimsuit was too damn tight. Despite not wanting to undress in front of a stranger, I couldn't bear it any longer. I took the strips down my shoulders, freeing my new chest and keeping the swimsuit hanging around my torso. I was weirded out by the unfamiliar appendages, but also proud in a deep part of my brain.
Hogging them for a few seconds, I wondered what was between my legs, for some reason. As expected, it was the usual set of female genitalia, an equipment I should have been familiar with, having clear memories of possessing one. However, as my hand patted my crotch, I was struck by a feeling of vertigo. Something was supposed to be there. I was supposed to have a penis, I remembered having a penis. Again, those opposing memories.
I decided to concentrate on finding out the meaning of all this, rather than exploring my body further. Two sets of memories... What kind of phenomenon could cause that? And like that, the lightning that cleared the fog I was in since my waking illuminated my whole being: The Big Merge. The dream. The Merge happened and I was the result of it. I was two people.
Finally realizing that fact, everything made sense and it was so much easier to sort my memories in respective mental shelves. Names: Sean / Sheril; gender: Male / Female; age: 19 / 18... After a few minutes, I had a pretty clear idea of my two identities. As I was still in this tiring process, the girl interrupted me.
"Hey. Are you there? Are you okay?" She said in a low voice like she was imitating a man. She sounded rough but concerned.
I look back at her. It wasn't hard now to guess who she was. Who they were. My brother... my friend was now merged with my role model... my girlfriend. They had a fit body, a middle ground between Jason's brawny physique and Ann's slender silhouette. Their hair, while a bit longer, was similar in style to Jason's. The color though, was neither blonde nor brown, but something in between: a light auburn, almost reddish. Their face was a lot more similar to Ann's than Jason's. A bit squarer, maybe, but still extremely beautiful. Their chest seemed a bit smaller than Ann used to be, but I inferred it might just be because of the bigger frame.
They were still wearing Ann's bikini top and probably the bottom too under Jason's trunks.
A sad realization finally set in as I diverted my gaze. Ann... I was supposed to be with her, with my soulmate. My brother had taken her from me. And now I was stuck, stuck with... myself. I instinctively put a hand on my mouth, as if I expected to throw up. I felt grossed out by my Sheril half. A punny, stupid, and bratty little girl. A loud mouth incapable of self-reflection, that's who I was. In reality, Sean didn't have such a low esteem of Sheril, but the sensation of losing my loved one was angering me, which in turn activated my Sheril insecurity. My two identities were bringing out the worst of each other and a wave of self-hatred swept me away. I started sobbing loudly, making me hate even more my girly and immature side.
"Wow, hey! It's alright, it's alright." My brother/girlfriend said, surprised by my sudden reaction. She took me in her arms, enveloping me like a mother would do to her child. It felt good, as much as I didn't want to admit. Ann was still there, she was still there with me even if she looked a bit different. It calmed me to think that, and I quickly reciprocated the embrace, hugging her tight around her firm waist. I was definitely smaller now. I finished sniffing like that for a few minutes as she caressed my hair (which I noticed was still styled as pigtails).
I finally managed to get a hold of myself and sat back straight. "S-sorry about that. I guess it's hard dealing with those new emotions..."
"I get what you mean, sis. Don't sweat it." She replied with a signature Jason wide grin.
I recoiled in horror. "SIS?!" I screeched, louder than was my intention.
They gave me a quizzical look. "Well, yeah. I know I look a bit different now, but it's me, Jason. You still haven't figured it out?"
I frowned. "I know who you are in there. I just expected you to be Ann."
They (or maybe he) laughed. "Okay, you're still not fully getting it yet, Sheril. It's alright. I'm actually both me AND Ann. We merged."
I winced at the name. His little smug tone was a premiere for me. Or at least my Sean part. It was fairly common for Sheril though, and annoying as hell. I pinched my nose in frustration, in a typical Sean fashion. "I know who you are. Both of you." I said in a low and slow manner. "You are as much Ann as you are Jason, so why are you talking about her in the third person?"
He looked at me with a dumb expression. "I dunno. It just feels more natural. I feel more like Jason than Ann. What's the big deal, sis?"
My face was slowly decomposing. I stood up in disarray. "What do you mean by that? How can you be more one than the other? AND STOP CALLING ME SIS, I'M SEAN!"
It took me a few seconds to register the irony of my comment. And a few more to think about that. I wasn't more Sean than Sheril, not really. I remembered equally growing up as a boy and a girl, their lives, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. But something felt a bit wrong when I thought of myself as Sheril. My Sean personality was too strong maybe? Not really. Sheril was a lot more vocal, usually. No, the difference was a matter of Ego, of confidence, I realized. Sheril had a major lack of self-esteem, now reinforced by the image Sean's mind was reflecting of herself. And while I, Sean, wasn't particularly the most confident individual of all time, it never had been a big problem in my life either. Plus, reciprocally, Sheril's love was boosting my Ego big time, which was kinda sad. She just preferred to see herself as me rather than I preferred to see myself as her, and as long as I believed it like that, I could more or less function.
Jason lifted himself up. The new girl was towering me big time, my eyes ending up at the level of her breasts. Jason had always been taller than me, but not by much. I had been decently tall -much more than Ann at least- and even if their fusion had taken more of his height than her, it made me realize how small I had become. I was only a few inches taller than Sheril was, which didn't mean much.
"If you want me to call you Sean, it's fine with me, si- huh... man." He chuckled. "Sorry, it's a bit hard though, you look so much more... girly," He said and pointed to my bare chest.
I turned red from embarrassment. I had completely forgotten that part. I quickly ran to the lounge chairs to take my Sheril's towel from one of them, rolling it around my torso. My perky breasts kept it tucked neatly.
"Okay, let's start again," I said as I walked back to them. "Can you please concentrate on Ann? I understand it comes easier for you to act like Jason, but I need to talk with my girlfriend right now..."
They winced at that and looked away. "I... I don't think I can do that."
"I'll be Sheril if you want afterward!" I pleaded. "I just need to witness she's still here somehow... That you're still alive, Ann. Please."
I took a step towards them, and they took a step back. They were still avoiding eye contact. I let them think in silence for a few minutes. They were pacing around, looking at their hands.
Finally, they spoke: "She's in here, Sean. Don't worry about that..."
"Then talk to me! As Ann! I know it's possible, I'm in the same situation as you, remember?" Even if it wasn't natural to think of myself as Sheril, she was still me. I knew I could summon her personality if necessary, like standing on one leg rather than the other. But right now, I was too focused on my bond with the love of my life, a powerful feeling that Sheril had never felt until now.
"I just can't do that right now. I need to stay Jason."
"Give me at least an explanation!" Bits of Sheril's stubbornness were leaking into my mind.
They sighed. "She's not feeling right, okay? It would hurt too much..." Their voice sounded tighter and tighter. I could see it, she was struggling not to come out, shielding herself behind Jason's big personality. But Jason had probably never felt that either, he must have been lost to this strange new pain.
I very slowly took a step forward, as if I was trying not to scare a frightened animal. "Baby," I said in the calmest voice I could mutter. "I know I look very different right now, but it's me. I'm here, okay? We're still together-"
She pushed me away with her two giant arms. The strength and speed were enough to throw me away on several feet. I wouldn't have been able to stay standing if not for the wall behind me.
"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER!" she cried in a much more feminine voice than it had been. Tears started rolling from her eyes. "It's over, don't you get it? It was our only chance and we blew it. We were supposed to be together forever, it was our destiny, our dream and now it's gooone..."
She wailed like I had never heard her wail, and certainly not Jason. My eyes were feeling up again at the sight. I knew her feelings, and I wanted to curse the world too, but I was also so relieved to hear her back. Ann, my only true love, was still here at my side, behind it all.
I hugged her again, this time trying to comfort her. She was so tall it didn't feel right, but she took me in and bent down to put her wet face on my shoulder. I stood there, caressing her back and letting her take it all out.
After a moment, I led her to a lounging chair so we could sit next to one another. "Do you remember the last time you felt sad like that? I guess it was when Jumbo died. We did a Viking funeral..." I said in a weak voice.
She gave me a weak smile. "You made the tiny boat yourself. It was very sweet of you to take so much time for my stupid frog."
"Jumbo was not stupid, he was just special! And I couldn't let you flush him in the toilet." I snarled.
She chuckled, still sniffing. Taking a trip down memory lane wasn't without reasons. I wanted her to focus on herself, on us, and help her understand that the small girl in front of her was still her boyfriend. It seemed to work as intended because she looked me in the eyes with a sad smile. Her deep dark eyes, reddened by the tears, were still hers.
"If I look closely, I can still see you in there..." she said meekly. It made me realize I hadn't seen my face yet.
"I am. Still here. Still by your side." I answered.
She looked back at her feet, biting her lips. "Except you're my sister now..."
It fell on me like a brick, waking back my Sheril part. Even if Jason was hard to discern under this girl's traits, I knew it was really my brother I was looking at. I was in love with him, indirectly, and the idea was quite nauseating. I kept silent for a moment, wondering. Was Sean's love strong enough to make me do something so revulsing like incest? I just have to forget about Jason. He's not relevant anymore, I thought. As much as I knew how immoral it was, I wanted to hold on to this love. I wanted to forget myself in it.
I looked back at her, and with the most quiet voice, I uttered: "I don't... care."
Her eyes widened back at me in surprise. Apparently, she was going through the same fight. But I knew her. I knew our mutual feelings could win any challenges. Slowly, like she was about to touch a flame with her bare hands, she approached her face to mine. We were both red like the day of our first kiss. As I could feel her hot breath hitting my nostrils, I closed my eyes and ended the gap myself.
Our lips met with intensity. Her tongue was first to enter my mouth, taking the entire space. She wasn't kissing like we used to at all, but I didn't care: at this moment, I was like a maiden experiencing her first kiss ever. Our size difference made it natural for me to assume a new, more supporting role. We kissed passionately for an unknown amount of time, completely lost in bliss.
As we finally broke it, we knew our love was indestructible. It had survived the biggest challenge we had ever met, and we smiled at each other, truly happy.
"I would have missed that." She finally said. "If we had fused together I mean. We wouldn't be able to make out, I guess."
As we cuddled, my eyes met with her crotch. I gulped when I caught on the suspicious bulge it sported. "Huuh... D-do you have..." I started saying, not daring to finish my sentence.
"A dick? Yeah, I still have one. Or have one now, I guess. You don't?"
I shook my head, taken aback by their bluntness.
"Weird. I wonder what are the rules about that... Maybe I was just packing more than you." They said with a grin.
The fact Jason's personality reappeared while we were still cuddling made me wince. I broke the hug. "Of course talking about that would make you Jason again..."
They laughed. "Don't worry, I'm still Ann too. I think I'm slowly finding a balance between them both."
My curiosity for male genitals coming exclusively from Sheril, it was also canceled by the reminder it was Jason's pickle between their legs. I made a disgusted face when he tried to cuddle back.
"Oh, I see Sheril is here." He mocked.
I pulled out my tongue, either sarcastically or instinctively, I couldn't say. He guffawed and stood up, stretching their chiseled body.
"Maybe we should go inside now that we're feeling better. I'm curious to know more about the global situation."
I followed at their side as we walked back. "By the way, isn't it too quiet around here? You would expect chaos, people screaming... Are we the only ones merged?"
"Naaah, we all had the dream," they said with leisure. "It's a very calm residential neighborhood. The few old couples around must be lost sorting all their memories, but I'm sure it's a lot more chaotic downtown."
That made sense, but I still had lots of questions in my mind. What about people driving? Or in planes? It must have caused accidents all over. What about people with no opposite gender nearby?
"What about Mom and Dad?" I decided to ask.
"Which ones?"
"The ones we share, dummy," I answered back, very Sheril-like.
"I'm your boyfriend now, you shouldn't call me like that." They joked.
I winced at the insinuation. "Girlfriend. As Ann." I snarled.
"Sure, but I'm still the one with a cock here..." She answered, pinching my bubbly butt with one hand.
"Yeek!" I screamed with a jump and they laughed loudly. I slapped the hand with a mean gaze. The cocky attitude coming from Jason was very new in a flirt setting and I was scared to find out how this relationship was going to play out. Each time Jason's personality was acting out, my Sheril instincts were brought back too, which was slowly setting up a weird chasing game between us and the immoral aspect of our bond.
***
The Shower
We walked past the sliding doors inside the cool interior. Our house. I chuckled at the fact I was now officially living with my girlfriend. I guess we had two addresses now, but this house was a lot nicer than Sean's old one. My parents might not like it, though..., I wondered. Come to think of it, I should try and contact them as soon as possible.
"Well, first thing I wanna do is see my face," I said out loud.
"Oh yeah, same. I tried to see my reflection in the pool but I couldn't catch much."
A wide mirror was hanging in the hall near the stairs. I held my breath and I stood in front of it.
It was one thing to not recognize the body you're in, it was another level to see a new face in the mirror. And what a face. I was hella cute. Sheril's pretty face had blossomed under some of Sean's more mature traits. My eyes were still blue, but instead of big round balls, they had taken Sean's almond shape. The whole face was more vixen while keeping some of Sheril's original innocence. My hair was jet black had kept the pigtails, reminding me of some Asian cosplayers. I looked a lot closer to my actual age. Who would have thought that merging with a guy would have made me so feminine?
"Woow. I look a lot more like Ann than Jason, heh? No wonder you were expecting me to act like her at first." My partner said as they made all kinds of weird faces.
"Well, I certainly don't look like Sean," I added.
"You do in some ways. At least you don't look as much like Sheril as I do Ann. That's a relief."
"I bet..."
They looked at me through the mirror. "For Ann, the simple fact that Sean is inside is enough, but for Jason, I have to try and trick my mind into thinking you're just an unknown gorgeous girl who happened to share some similarity with my sister."
I blushed at the compliment. Being called gorgeous was raising some of Sheril's ego. I took off the ribbons from my hair, letting it flow on the back of my neck. "Does that help?" I asked.
"Thank god, yes." They sighed and bent down for a kiss.
I reciprocated, but more timidly, not able to shake the feeling I was kissing Jason this time. As we broke, I cleared my voice. "I really need a shower, my skin is still sticky from the solar cream..."
"Oh, okay." They said, sounding a bit disappointed.
I gave them a peck on the cheek as an apology. "I'll be back soon, I just need to freshen up."
I entered the spacious bathroom on the second floor. It was interesting to compare the quality of life of my two families. Sheril had never realized how good she had it before. Spoiled brat, I scowled myself.
I finally had the chance to put off my mixed swimwear. Looking at myself again in the mirror, unclad with my dark mane untied, a strong feeling of vanity and pride enveloped me. I gave a cocky smile at my reflection. I was fully female and had no explanation for that. My biggest wonder was my new perky breasts that I had estimated to be a C cup. Far from Sasha's utters, but still a very big improvement on my previous sizes. Where could they come from?
I took a deeper examination at my crotch. I could feel a mourning coming from Sean's loss of his manhood. As my Sheril part was more accustomed to the female anatomy, it was taking the lead in this investigation. I looked back at my reflection's gaze while running my fingers around my slit. How strange, I thought, to be aroused by my reflection. The taste for girls was new to me as Sheril, and it wasn't unpleasant. I bit my lips as I pushed a finger inside, it was already wet. My own muffled moan was raising the flow even more.
Not wanting to be caught by my brother, I turned on the shower, to better resume my exploration behind the sound of falling water. The wide shower was also equipped with a mirror on one side, so I could still peek at myself. Taking advantage of my Sheril mind under the wheel, I decided to partake in a little fantasy. I started imagining Sean going down on my new self.
"Sean... keep going..." It was a weird revelation for Sean, who was now also experimenting self-arousal, by his old male self. As cringed as he was deep inside of me, I for once felt even more pleasure. My love for him was drowning him, forcing him to watch in disarray.
"We are one now, Sean. You're inside me. I'm inside you... We're *moan* together forever."
I was slowly speeding up the pace, feeling a climax already climbing its way. "Sean! I love you, Sean! I'm closer to you than Ann would ever be!"
Here it was, my first orgasm in my new home. "You're mine! You're mine! You're miiiiine!" I screamed at my reflection, as the powerful wave of pleasure engulfed me.
Catching my breath, I chuckled: "Who's the brat now, huh?"
*knock, knock, knock*
"Sean? Is everything okay? I heard you scream."
The call of my other half's name was enough to flip me back. Shame quickly replaced my earlier demeanor. I felt like I had cheated Ann with myself.
Not hearing a response, she opened the unlocked door. Shit.
"I... knocked a toe in the corner!" I improvised weakly.
The sliding doors were filled with steam, so I couldn't see her. I only heard the sound of rubbing clothes. A few seconds later, the doors opened.
"I thought it would be quicker if we shared a shower," she said. "Or it might take longer if we knocked another toe."
She smiled mischievously. My eyes went instinctively to the odd member attached to her otherwise feminine body. Neither Sheril nor Sean could attest to its resemblance to Jason's old one, but it was certainly sizeable. Its length was not what made me stare longer than I should have: the lack of visible testicles was my first surprise. The skin around it was also making some kind of fold.
"Yeah I know, it doesn't look exactly like your classic male anatomy." They chuckled.
It seemed to work fine though, as the already half-erected penis rose slowly to a full stand. I became crimson and looked away, my stare certainly responsible for the change of elevation.
They closed the distance, gently lifting my chin with their fingers, and kissed me once more. Never had Ann been so assertive before. Jason's personality had completely changed our dynamic. I was now the submissive one. I didn't know what to think of it yet, still figuring out where this relationship was going. The hard hot rod poking at my belly made me flinch back.
"I-I don't know if I'm ready for that yet..." I said, a bit guilty for my earlier session.
"If not for the full act... would you mind helping me with that thing? You know... with your... mouth?" She muttered. The shyness at the request made it typically Ann. She always had a coy demeanor when she felt kinky, which was quite often.
"You want me to give you a blowjob?!" I gulped. For some reason, I had even more apprehension for oral than actual regular sex.
She went on the defensive: "Oh come on! I've done it all the time for you, what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that I've never done it, for once..." I answered.
"Not even Sheril?" She asked.
I shook my head. Sheril was a virgin, actually. I had a few boyfriends, but never went farther than kissing.
"Well, I won't force you, of course." She said reassuringly, clearly fighting against her male urge. "Let me take care of it myself."
I sighed. If I wanted to continue my relationship with Ann fully, I'd have to do it sooner or later. "No, it's okay. I'll try."
"You're sure? I don't want you to feel obliged..." She said with utmost seriousness.
I smile at her caution and nod. "I guess part of me is kinda curious."
"Don't tell me which part, please." She said, wincing a bit.
Right... I was about to commit incest. Jason was probably trying his best to forget I was also his sister. I crouched awkwardly, not wanting to hurt my knees on the tiling. The pulsing dick was a few inches from my face. Closing my eyes, I tried to make the mixing between my two personalities. Putting Sheril away while keeping her interest in the male appendage was difficult, but I was slowly coming to it. I'm a girl, a heterosexual girl who's about to give a blowjob to my lover, Ann…
I put my lips on the tip. The smell wasn't as potent as I thought, even enjoyable. Then I took a grip at the base of the shaft with one of my dainty hands, the other one holding her firm leg to keep balance.
"Oh boy..." said my partner, holding onto the wall with anticipation.
Slowly, I pushed the head to my mouth, parting my lips. As it went in, I realized the girth was a lot harder to fit in than I expected. I had to almost dislocate my jaw like I was trying to take a bite of a giant burger.
"T-try not to put your teeth on it..." complained Ann.
"Hmm mmHmm!" I replied.
"What?"
"I'm trying," I repeated after putting it out. "You're just too big."
She laughed, a bit embarrassed. "Never had that problem with you..."
I gave her a dark look. "Shut up if you want me to resume."
"Yes ma'am."
I put myself back in character. That time, I curled my lips around my teeth so as to limit their contact with the shaft. I then started giving it a back-and-forth motion. It wasn't a very practical experience, but looking up, I saw my partner looking at me in fascination. It was an odd angle, her face shielding me from the water pouring around, her wet short hair leaking thin flows on my head. Her chest was covering part of her chin and in her eyes shined a lust I never saw in her.
The blow was not very pleasurable in itself from my perspective, but her desire for me was enough to stir my own arousal. I felt happy to give, I felt sexy and I felt love. I started putting more sensuality in my work and kept eye contact. I broke the pace with licks and kisses in between strokes. Her only reaction was small grunts, enough to comfort me that I was doing something good.
Playing a lot on my feminine charms was somewhat dangerous as I was close to waking too much of Sheril's mind. I'm sucking my brother's cock! was the last thing I wanted to think about, but if I went too much on the other side, Sean would be noticing he had another guy's cock in his mouth. It was a true rope-dancer act, but as long as I kept my poise, the experience was outstanding. My hand wanted nothing more than play with my clit, but I couldn't risk it in my shaky stance.
The frustration sped up my back and forth, and without warning, her pulsing dick spurted hot semen into my mouth. Through pure motion reflex, I swallowed the bitter and slimy liquid, only to fall down and gag into the faucet. I spat what was left in my mouth, cleaning it with hot water, but what had been gulped stayed inside.
"Didn't you teach me to warn you when I was about to cum?" I snarled, the unpleasant taste still lingering in my mouth.
"S-sorry... I guess I was too focused on the feeling..." she answered not so apologetically.
I finally stood back up. Looking back in the mirror, I was slowly catching on to what I had just done. I sucked a dick. I sucked a dick as a girl and swallowed. My mind was fully back to Sean, which made me feel extremely ashamed as if a new level of my masculinity had been ripped from me. Is there still some left in me?
"God, that was... so intense. Even as Jason, I don't remember experiencing a head like that. Are you sure it was your first time?" They said, a bit too genuinely.
Well, now it's definitely gone... My face was already too red from the act to show any more of my shame. I gave my reflection a knowing smile. That being said, I'd also have loved a blow from that girl. Too bad she's me.
At last, I could have an actual wash.
"I don't know if any of my clothes will fit me," I said as we got out.
"Eventually we'll have to go shopping, but for now you can steal something from Mom's closet. I'm sure she won't mind." Jason answered as he played a bit with his breasts in the mirror. Yep, that's him in there right now. Probably all that male lusting summoning him back.
"Why do you say that?"
"I had a quick call from them while you were busy knocking your toe." He grinned.
I coughed to hide my embarrassment. I was relieved by the news. "Oh, they're alright? Who did they-"
"They merged together, as they wanted." He cut me, predicting my following question. "They're still at Auntie's house. She merged with one of her neighbor's sons, apparently. It's a bit of a mess out there, so they told me they won't be home tonight."
"What the plan for us, now?" I asked as I finished tying up a towel around my hair.
"Let's take the time to get news from our other families and friends for now. We'll decide what to do when we know more." They answered, pragmatically.
***
Phone Calls
As suggested by Jason, I looked into our mother, Elisa's closet. Her wardrobe was neither to any of my identities' tastes, but she fitted my new build fairly well. I was very sad at the fact none of my cutesy dresses would ever fit me now, at least half of me was. The other had not much to add in the matter of women's clothing except that Sheril's "cutesy clothes" were childish and it was past time for her to upgrade her style.
I skimmed out for something that wasn't screaming "old woman's outfit". The best I ended up finding was a yellow and blue floral dress that was SO old-fashioned that it was coming back to style. Her underwear options were a tad too small but worked fine for now. I added white tights to complete the look.
Walking back to the bathroom, I brushed my new silky hair and decided to style it in two low-braided pigtails, ending them with my precious ribbons. Maybe not the most mature hairstyle, but there was progress, and it just fitted the dress perfectly. Very Cottagecore. I'm so cute like this! I thought, smiling happily at my vintage look. I was ready to shoot an episode of Little House on the Prairie. Without thinking, I finished up by putting on some makeup: rosing my cheeks and enhancing my new eyes.
When some of my Sean's mind reappeared, I felt like I'd been bamboozled by myself. I'm doomed to be a girly girl now, am I? Well, I have to admit it does suit me.
As I went back downstairs, Jason/Ann was sitting on the couch, looking at their phone.
"That's what you're wearing, huh." I said not without contempt at their choice of outfit. They went for some of Jason's clothes, which were of course very loose on their new frame. The tank top they chose, which was probably the tightest Jason owned, was so wide it showed a big deal of their braless cleavage, while the elastic shorts, maintained to their waist by a makeshift belt out of some rope, were looking almost like a two-legged skirt.
They raised an eye to me at my comment. I proudly gave them a little swirl, posing. "Not too shabby, huh?"
After a few seconds of silence, they guffawed loudly. I made a pout to their reaction, hands on my hips.
"What."
"Oh nothing, nothing." they managed to catch their breath. "I guess you're back to Sheril, is all. I might have forgotten she was in there."
"Yeah, well, she's half of me, yes." I retorted "You know, I was hoping being with Ann would make you less of a jerk, Jason. Guess I was wrong."
"Oh come on, sis. Don't be upset. It's not a bad look, it's just really... you, I guess."
"Not more than your choice is really you, bro. You know you're not a guy anymore, huh? What's up with your outfit?" I interjected.
He shrugged. "Ann's slim jeans don't fit me anymore, as you might expect. I don't have much choice for now."
"Well, I hope it won't be your new style from now on..." I sulked as I sat in the armchair on the other side. I was too Sheril and he was too Jason to cuddle right now.
I reached for Sean's phone which had been sitting on the coffee table until now. There was a few missed calls from Mom's number. "Shit."
"What's up?" They asked.
"My mom. She's been trying to reach me. I should have done that sooner." I said, worried.
"You're right, I haven't tried to contact my other family either yet. Let's take care of that now." They looked for Ann's phone in her bag and went outside so we could each have some space.
I first tried to unlock my phone with my fingerprint, which of course didn't work. Thankfully, I still remembered my password. It took a pretty long time for the phone to pick up.
"Yes, who's this?" said a mysterious croaky voice. It didn't sound like my mother at all.
"Huh, Hi? I'm looking for Sandra. Sandra Wang?" I asked.
"Listen, girl. I'm having a hard time here, like everybody else, and I don't have much time. Can you start by introducing yourself?"
I was quite baffled by the unfamiliarity of the tone. Of course, I was expecting my parents to be merged, but the rude voice was completely unknown.
"I'm Sean, her son. Is my mother here? Is everything alright?" I started worrying.
It took them a few seconds to answer: "Oh, Sean! It's good to finally hear from you. Sorry, I didn't notice your name on the phone."
"Huh, Mom? Is that you?" I asked, still unsure.
"Well, yeah in part. That's my number, what did you expect?" She answered dryly. Her pitch, while still feminine, was very coarse, like a long-life smoker. It didn't make sense for a fusion of both my parents.
"Who are you with?" I asked the next logical question.
"Richard." I had no idea who that was. "Richard Dickinson? My coach from the swimming club. I guess I wasn't talking to you about it much, huh."
That was troubling, but it made sense. At this time of the day, my father might have still been at work.
"And what about Dad? Do you have news from him?"
"No." She said icily.
"Aren't you worried?" I asked, a bit surprised by the apparent indifference.
"Listen, kid. I have bigger fish to fry here. I tried to call the guy a few times already. I have a wife to take care of. The situation is enough of a mess as it is."
I was shocked by the tone. My mother had always been a polite and caring woman. Clearly, the other mind was leading at the moment.
"Can I actually talk to my mother, Richard?" I raised my voice.
I wasn't used to talking so boldly to one of my parents, but the tone they used on me since the beginning of the call was making it difficult for me to treat them as such. It seemed to be effective, as the silence following was telling.
"Ugh, alright. Sorry, Sean. I'm sure you know how it feels to share a mind with someone. It's easy to get lost. But I'm still here, sweetie." She said. The tone had changed drastically.
"Yeah, I understand," I answered, relieved.
"Did you merge with your girlfriend? Are you at her house?" She asked, a lot more concerned.
"No, I'm at the Sanders. I ended up with Jason's little sister..." I replied, a bit ashamed for some reason.
"Oh, I see. Sorry it didn't go like you wanted. At least you're in a nice home. Listen, it's probably better if you stay with them, at least for the time being. I have many things to get straight in Richard's life, and with your dad not answering my calls..."
"I'll try to call him. I'm sure he's alright." I said, trying to comfort her.
"I don't know much about the Sanders’ daughter, but she seemed to have a good effect on you, you sound more mature!" She teased. The irony made me chuckle with embarrassment. "Anyway, I really need to get going. I'll explain things to you later. Let's keep in touch, okay?"
"Sure, Mom. Good luck."
"I love you, son. No matter what, I'm still your mom."
I couldn't refrain my eyes from watering as I hung up. The reality of my family life being completely in shambles hit me like a rock. At the same time, I was relieved to hear she could still be herself. I took a few minutes to calm down. I could see Ann outside through the sliding doors, walking in a circle as she talked on the phone. What a fucking mess we're in…
I tried to call my dad, no dice. I tried to rationalize the fact he was probably still figuring things out. After all, it had taken me all this time to think about reaching out to them. But I couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened. At this hour, he could have been driving home when it hit him, pulling him in some kind of traffic accident... Did people have to touch each other for it to start? I didn't think about asking my mom how it happened to her, that would have been an obvious question…
I decided to search on the internet for information. Most news outlets were still bare of any news. I imagined most companies weren't in any state of running properly. The internet was still working at least, that was good. On social media, there were plenty of posts. Mostly it was people showing off their new appearance to the world: "Wow, I'm so freaking cute!", "My boyfriend and I merged. Look at the result, OMG I can't.", "So guys, smash or pass?", etc.
As I continued scrolling through the posts, I realized something interesting. The resulting appearances went from androgynous women to very feminine ones. There were no boys in sight, at least not apparent ones. Probably some of them had male genitalia (some seemed to confirm that), but no real masculine bodies anywhere.
Chewing this thought, I suddenly received an incoming call. I didn't know the number, but I answered anyway.
"Huh, hello?"
"H-hi. I'm trying to contact Sean?" the voice answered. It sounded very sultry and feminine.
"I'm Sean. Who is it?"
"Oh, thank god. I wasn't sure I remembered your number. It's me, dad." The woman said.
A wave of relief washed me. "Dad! I was worried. I tried to call you..."
"I'm so sorry, Sean! I lost my phone in the panic... It's a long story. Memories took some time to settle. Where are you? Are you alright? Did you merge with Ann?" His voice sounded quavering, he was visibly stressed out.
"I'm not with Ann no... I merged with Sheril. She's Jason's sister. We were at their house when it happened." I explained.
"Oh, okay! I guess you must be sad not to be with Ann, but that's still a good place to end up."
"What do you mean?" I asked, perplexed by his reaction.
"Well, the Sanders are quite the wealthy family. Now that you're their daughter, I guess it means you're inheriting it."
I was dumbfounded. He was right, sure, but the pragmatic calculation sounded very out of place in such circumstances. The Sheril in me couldn't help but find it offensive, like some kind of arranged marriage for money. Still, I let it slide, not wanting to start an argument.
"Sure, I guess. Who did you merge with, Dad? Mom tried to join you too, you know."
"Oh, huh. Just an unknown woman, I don't know." He said like he was trying to avoid the subject.
"You don't know? Wait, you don't have her memories?" I tried to clarify.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I meant I didn't know her before. I've seen her before, actually. She works at the company, but only from far away..." His speech was messy. I guessed it was his new "mindmate" personality altering his usual calmer demeanor.
"Okay. How did you two merge? Were you still in the office?" I asked, this time curious to know more about how it happened for people not in direct contact. A weird silence followed my question. "Dad?"
"Yes, I'm here, sorry. We were leaving the building at the same time. It happened in the parking lot. That's how I lost my phone and..." He started to explain.
My mind drifted away when I saw Ann walk inside. She passed the living room, gave me a quick glance with a stoic expression, and went upstairs. I could easily tell something was up.
"Anyway, Dad," I interrupted his incoherent rumbling." I need to go. You should call Mom as soon as possible. She was very worried about you."
"Oh, okay Sean. Actually, I have a lot to take care of here, myself. Can you text your mom for me? I'll call her soon, I promise but... it's complicated. Stay safe at the Saunders, I'm sure you'll be fine there for now." He wrapped up the conversation.
"Hm, sure. Keep me updated, okay? Bye, Dad." I terminated the call.
I couldn't help feeling spite at the way my parents could so quickly hand me over to another family. Was our bond so brittle? At least I knew I had a solid home here now. Mom and Dad would never get rid of me like that... The other ones, I mean.
I walked back upstairs and knocked on Jason's bedroom door. I entered to find Ann sitting on the bed, looking at her feet. "Is everything alright?" I asked with concern.
"I guess... Everybody's safe." She answered, still looking down.
I sat next to her. "What's up?"
She sighed. "It's Mia. She... she merged with Dad."
Mia was Ann's little sister. She was only 10, and Ann had always been very protective of her. I didn't get the full picture of what it meant right away.
"I can imagine being merged with a parent is not ideal..." I risked.
She looked at me with a serious gaze. "It's not just that, Sean. She's only 10 while Dad is 46." Her voice was heavy, trying to contain her sob, and failing. "Now they're apparently looking like a woman in her late twenties. It's so unfair, she skipped her whole youth!"
I took her on the shoulder, patting her back. I didn't know what to say to make her feel better. "H-how did she sound like? Sadden?"
"No, that's the worst part... My dad said he couldn't manage to let her out. He can't stop being in the lead. We... we think he has so much more life experience, he's completely overshadowing her, or something." She said out between her weeping.
As I let her tears soak my dress, I looked out the window. The sun was slowly approaching the horizon.
"You know how old we are right now?" I said after a while. She only sniffed in reply. "We're all really, what? 3 hours old, right now? 4, top."
She raised her head, looking at me with confused red eyes.
"It's only been a few hours since we woke up to our new lives. I know it's hard to believe with everything that happened, but that's the truth." I explained to her. "Don't you think it's a bit early to set things in stone? Your sister might take a longer time to come back to the surface than we did but don't give up on her so quickly. I bet if we put them in front of a My Little Pony episode, your dad won't stand a chance."
She chuckled a bit at my joke and dried her face with her tank top. "Thank you. You might be right actually."
"Of course I am! This all Merge-thing is fucking crazy. We don't know anything about how it works and we can't say how it'll play out tomorrow. I say let's wait a bit before drawing any conclusions, okay?" I reassured her.
She nodded, smiling faintly.
"You should probably go back to them tonight," I said, hiding my pain at the idea.
She, thankfully, shook her head. "It won't be necessary. Mom is with them, she merged with a random guy when she was grocery shopping. Apparently, he doesn't have much of a family of his own. She said it's probably safer not to go out until things settled in, anyway... What about your family?"
I recounted how my calls went.
"Well... you said it best: let's wait before drawing any conclusions. In any case, that settles the fact we shouldn't split. We have responsibilities here too, after all." She noted, before kissing me gently.
I was relieved to hear her say that. Not only was she also my brother, but Ann was above all my only anchor to my Sean life at this point.
***
Evening
"I'm tired of all those emotions. Since we woke up, it has been worry after worry." She said as she stood up. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
I hadn't noticed until now, but the mention of food was enough to give me stomach cramps. On that note, we went to the kitchen. I first tried calling pizzerias, but as expected: everything was closed. It made me wonder how society was going to organize itself now that the world population had been reduced by half. Some structures had already been thought of: we knew our government would soon distribute new identity cards displaying our two old selves. Most accommodations were still unclear though, as too little time separated us from the day of the Dream.
Thankfully the fridge was pretty much full, and Ann was an amazing cook. She surprised me with sautéed bell peppers, something she never did before because of my loathing for the vegetable. She knew from Jason's memories that Sheril, however, loved it. It was quite a weird experience to have half of my brain horrified by something I found so tasty. I ended up winning this fight against Sean and taught him all about the sweetness and crunchiness of bell peppers.
"You're such a great upgrade on my brother, Ann," I said between mouthfuls.
I laughed, their face indicating they didn't seem to know how to react to both a compliment and a jibe.
When the night finally came, we decided to go to bed early, as we were both feeling emotionally drained. Feeling awkward at the idea of sleeping together in either Sheril or Jason's beds, we settled on stealing the master bedroom, taking advantage of tonight's lack of parents.
Our nightly cuddles soon transformed into a make-out session. I blushed, feeling Ann's infamous new member hard against my soft leg. Looking into each others' eyes, we silently agreed to succumb to our curiosity. We both knew what it induced, and how wrong it would be to partake in it without the proper protection, but we both pretended to forget about it. After all, we were used to raw sex in our former bodies… She slowly took down my panties. My heart was pumping like crazy, and it didn't take long for my inside to produce the now-familiar wetness.
Ann was deep inside me. Completely absorbed into the female experience, I had managed to keep Sheril at bay thanks to her lack of sexual experience. Having a dick thrusting into our womb was as new for her as it was for me, and the mostly Ann face that was grunting and gazing into me right now was holding the balance in my favor. With so little of my female self to guide me though, the feeling of the receiving end was truly alien. The sheer discovery of my depth was blowing my mind. I couldn't help myself from moaning anymore, and showing such a feminine side to Ann was embarrassing me greatly. The shame itself also seemed to nourish some kind of twisted arousal. Did I always have a fetish like that? It didn't seem right.
"I'm inside you... Oh boy, I'm inside you..." Ann was whimpering between each push, apparently playing some newly discovered kink of her own. Ann who, before the merge, had always been so passive and shy during our sexual intercourses. But now, she was in the lead and I was wondering what was going through her head. She was living a similar shift in our dynamic after all… well the exact opposite really.
Her movement was increasing, and my moans were more and more audible.
In the middle of it all, Ann's lips let out a terrible truth: "Oh god! I'm really fucking my little sister..."
"What?! What did you... say??" My mind shattered at the statement.
My reaction didn't stop them. "I-I'm so sorry, Sheril. I'm sorry!"
Hearing my other name was flipping me back. I panicked. "Stop it! Stop saying that, you idiot!"
"Oh god! I'm doing it! I'm inside you, sis! We're having sex!" Like me earlier, the shame seemed only to fuel them more. He pushed with added vigor.
"Jason, no! Shut up! You're ruining it!" I whined, but it was too late. I was now fully myself again. Sean couldn't shield me from the truth anymore. I was having my first time, and despite his feminine traits, I could only see my brother's face above mine.
Despite my tremendous disgust, my body was not fighting it. It wanted more, and I was powerless to stop it.
"You're so sexy, Sheril! You're so cute! I can't stop myself!" He yelled, possessed by pure lust for his own sister. Since when did my brother have such awful thoughts? I wanted Ann back! I wanted to be Sean again! But despite my best efforts, I couldn't.
"I'm close, sis. Your freaky brother is gonna cum inside you!" He howled.
"Get out, you moron! At least don't cum inside me!" But instinctively, my legs and arms locked on him, betraying my reason. I moaned and cried at the same time, feeling my climax building up at the same time as his.
We reached it in unison.
"I love you, Sheril!" He screamed when the defilement spread inside of me. I was too absorbed in my own spike to register it, though. My mind was melting in pleasure. Sweet oblivion, take me. I wanted to stay in this state forever.
He collapsed on my side, spent. I stayed frozen in place as hot cum was dripping from my pussy. Slowly, I dug a little hole in the corner of my mind, refusing to face reality at this point.
"Ann? Are you there?" I asked quietly as I was forced into myself again.
"Yeah..." She answered in a whisper.
"What... was that?" I asked, truly more surprised than grossed out now.
"Sorry... I think that's my fault." She said. I didn't know what she meant.
"I mean Ann's fault. I think some of my personal kinks mixed into my Jason persona," she explained, visibly ashamed.
"What do you mean?" I said, intrigued.
"I never talked much about it with you but... I kinda have a fetish for sibling relationships. You know, from my private manga stash?" She looked at me with an awkward smile.
"So that's what those are, huh..." I said, finally solving that mystery. "Guess you don't have many secrets left now, do you?"
She only chortled disturbingly. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so. I needed to face the truth of our relationship sooner or later... I guess it was just sharper than I wished it to be..." I answered honestly.
She caressed my hand. "Sorry... again."
"Don't be, I know it's hard to control all of this... Fuck, we're really siblings now. This is going to be a challenge." I understood.
"The world is in such chaos right now. I'm sure our situation is far from being the weirdest one." She said.
"And what about... Mom and Dad?" I winced a bit as calling them like that was calling in my other half.
They gulped. "They must never find out, or we're truly fucked."
The Saunders were a pretty traditional family. Not that a lot of parents would accept their kids to fuck each other, anyway.
"It might spice things up, in a way. Doing it behind their back..." I said.
They raised an eyebrow in my direction. "Is someone warming up at this incestuous kink?"
"I wouldn't say that." I snarled. "I just need to play with this new hand of cards if I want to keep our relationship working."
"Good thinking... sis." They smirked.
"Ugh, that will take time to get used to, though..."
***
Epilogue
“Coming!” I shouted at the doorbell as I ran for the door, ecstatic.
The first year had been quite chaotic, but now that school had finally resumed, a semblance of normalcy had returned. The Great Merge Cabinet, also known as GMC, had managed to sort things out with more or less success, but it worked out in the end. For fusions like us who were just students, the protocol was actually quite simple: we all had to choose to resume one of our old curricula. Jason’s old prestigious college approval was only due to his basketball sponsorship, which was a bit flimsy to begin with, so it was logical for them to pursue Ann’s plans. As for me, Sheril had pretty good grades, so I had decided to go back to high school, this time determined to join them for the next year.
I opened the door to a delivery girl holding a package. Finally, it had arrived! I took the box to my room, eager to open it. Inside was a bunch of new clothes I had bought online. With people worldwide in dire need of outfits for their new shapes, finding something had been a trial at first. It took me the last two months to finally have this package. Before that, I had managed to gather a few clothes by trading my old one. Male outfits were harder to get rid of, but some resilient minds were still trying to clutch to their lost manhood. Others more crafty used discarded male clothes to fashion makeshift attires. I myself used some of Sean’s old t-shirts to make not-too-shabby tops. Really, trends were all over the place.
“Haha, there you are!” I said out loud as I found the dress I was looking for. Since none of Sheril’s old clothes were fitting me anymore, I had to give them all away. So I was glad I had found a similar one she had, only a few sizes bigger. I smiled at it with mischief.
I didn’t call myself Sean or Sheril anymore. With time, the frontier between our two old identities had blurred, and we all started to choose new names for ourselves. Ann and Jason had chosen the very creative name of Jane. It fitted them well, though. For my part, I had chosen a more distinctive one: Naomi. It was a name both Sean and Sheril liked a lot, and I cherished each time my two personalities would agree on something.
I didn’t wait long before putting on the light blue dress and modeling in front of my mirror. As Naomi, I was now used to more mature outfits that Sean found sexy on girls: hand-cut denim shorts, blazers, crop tops… urban streetwear styles, generally. But today I wasn’t dressing for Sean.
Since Sean’s mother found out that his dad had fused with his mistress, my other family had basically broken apart. I still saw them regularly, but separately, and I lived exclusively at the Saunders. Jane on the other hand had still a functioning family from their other half and was going back and forth between the two households. Between that and college, we were seeing each other only once every two weekends. It was hard, especially having to deal with our parent alone most of the time, but knowing it was just a matter of a year helped me pull through with it. They were coming home today, and I had missed them so much I wanted to treat them with something special…
Earlier in the day, I had gone to the stylist to dye my hair. As Naomi, I usually kept my hair loose or tied down, but today I was styling them in very familiar pigtails. I took a final look in the mirror. In front of me stood Sheril, wearing her favorite summer dress, her blonde hair tied in her signature style with her favorite ribbons. Thanks to some clever makeup, I had hidden most of Sean’s traits and enhanced hers. What betrayed me the most was my much more voluptuous curves, which I had no intention of hiding anyway.
“I’m home!” I heard a familiar voice call from downstairs. “Naomi? Are you home?”
“Upstairs!” I answered as I quickly climbed on my bed. Waiting for them to arrive, I lay on my stomach, propped on elbows, my feet swinging in the air and facing the doorway innocently.
“Hey babe-” Jane quickly stopped as she saw me. “S-Sheril!?”
I sat back, slowly pulling off a strip from my shoulder. “Hey, Jason. Mommy’s not home yet. Wanna play with your little sister?”
FIN
***
Prologue
One day, Humanity shared a common dream. Every person on Earth, as they slept, dreamt the same vision. In it, they could see themselves and others pulled toward someone of the other sex. As their two bodies collided, they were becoming one single being. One body of two minds. As people woke up, they could feel it: a deep knowledge that it wasn’t only a dream, but some kind of prophecy.
The pragmatics thought of it as Mother Nature fighting against human overpopulation. The poets preferred to think it was a restitution to our primal form where men and women were only the two halves of the same entities.
Sure, there were a few deniers, like there’s always some for Climate Change, but most people knew this day would soon come, the day of an event they soon started to call The Great Merge.
***
Sean
My name, at that time in that place, was Sean. In a few days, I was officially starting college there in my hometown, while my girlfriend Ann was moving away for her studies. I wasn’t particularly worried about it: our relationship had started as early as middle school and was so strong I knew it could even survive years and years of distance. But still, we wouldn’t be able to spend each day together like we did until now, so I wasn’t looking forward to it. To add to the injury, Ann was going to pursue a brilliant career in the medical field thanks to her perfect grades while my medium scores and not-so-wealthy family confined me to a local community college. I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous.
“Don’t worry, honey. It’s just a matter of time anyway. We’ll be one in no time, so we’ll enjoy my new university together soon enough!”
That’s what Ann was always telling me when I shared my mixed feelings towards our future. We were often seen as the perfect couple. I believed in her love for me as much as mine for her. So when the Dream occurred, it was only natural for us to conclude we would fuse with one another. Even if the idea of losing their identity was scary for everyone, Ann and I felt like it was the most romantic thing that could happen to us. There was excitement mixed in the fear. But what if the Great Merge happened while she was away? Would it still work? Would it make her merge with a random dude from her school? Nobody knew for sure, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance, that’s why I was making sure to be with her as much as I could since the Dream.
Enjoying our last moments of summer, we were spending the afternoon at my friend Jason’s place. Jason's family was quite wealthy and owned a big house with a pool, so it was often him inviting us over and during summer vacation, we almost spent more time there than in our own houses. I stared dreamily at Ann as she got out of the bathroom in her newly brought red bikini. “Wow…” I was the luckiest man on earth. She was wearing her wavy brown hair in a ponytail and her usual fair skin had taken a golden hue from all our time here. An angel. Not only was she the smartest girl I knew with her already mentioned unparalleled academic prowess, she was the most beautiful in the whole world. Sure, I don’t claim I was the most objective, but still. Those green eyes, that cute little nose, and that damn smile… An embarrassed smile that, at that moment, was asking me why I was still looking at her like the first day we met.
“I swear next time I’m going in a diving suit.” she joked.
“Pretty sure you’d still rock it anyway.” I replied.
I loved how humble she managed to stay despite her perfect hourglass figure. She always had this shyness when it came to our desires for one another. I knew she had a kinky side that she was always too embarrassed to show me, like those erotic comics she hid in her room, or the way she blushed when watching a sex scene in a movie. Her modesty was probably the only thing I could see as a default about her personality. She could be a bit passive during our intimacy, but really it was nit-picking. Because yes, having the brain and the looks wasn’t enough for her, she also had to be the most kind-hearted person, making her popular not only with the teachers but every student in our old school.
“Come on, love birds. there’s only a few hours of sun left already!” called out Jason.
He was a great friend. Very sporty, outgoing, and full of confidence. I wasn't especially lacking in that department myself –how could I with Ann at my side– but I've always been a lot more reserved. He had sandy blond hair and a radiant smile that felt very inviting, making him the target of lots of girls' attention.
"Carrie's not here?" I asked him.
"Nah, we split yesterday," he answered casually.
Nothing to be surprised about, it was bound to happen. Jason's adventures never lasted long, as he could be very frivolous. He liked girls but not much commitment, and they often felt insecure in their relationship with him because of his popularity. He never cheated on them, but never reassured them much either. That was the same story with his previous girlfriend.
"Aww, too bad. I really liked Carrie, she was sweet," said Ann who was holding my hand as we walked to the pool area.
A big sliding door was opening directly on the bluest pool, taking much of the space. On our right was a neatly mown lawn and on our left was a stone wall matching the pool’s tiles. At the far end was a big modern pergola shading the lounge chairs under it. There, a familiar silhouette greeted us: “Hey, guys!”
The squeaky voice belonged to Jason's little sister Sheril. The little goblin was always clinging to us like a tick. I cringed at the harsh thought. She wasn't THAT bad. Sheril was a sophomore in our old high school. My guess was that, like most girls from her grade, she saw Ann as a role model or something, and because of that, she spent as much time as she could with us. She was nice, but often tried to monopolize our attention, talking loudly and frequently interrupting us. At the beginning of the vacation, Jason had tried to get rid of her multiple times but quickly forfeited as he often did with her relentless stubbornness. Ann didn't seem to mind her as much as I did as she always seemed impossible to annoy. For that reason, I had to also give up, just trying to ignore her as much as I could.
"How are you today? Do you want to play a game of tag or something? Hey, Ann! Have you seen my new ribbons? I bought them yesterday with Mom. She says they match with my eyes, what do you think?" She started rumbling as she jumped out of the chair and skipped around like a pestering fly.
Despite soon starting her last year of high school, Sheril was quite short for her age, not very developed, and wore her blonde hair in characteristic long and curly pigtails. Because of that, she could almost fool people into thinking she was still a child. Her current swimsuit, a white one-piece with pink flowers, was not helping her case. Despite that, she was definitely cute in her own way. She had big and very light blue eyes. Her button nose and rosy cheeks were covered in freckles and her overall facial features were free of imperfections. She had great potential if she started acting and dressing like her age, but for now, it was difficult to see more in her than a pesky kid.
I gave Ann a knowing smile and let her tank Sheril's attention for the moment. She didn't seem to mind and patiently responded to her endless chatting. I dived into the water with Jason for a few laps.
"So... What's your plan for the Great Merge now?" I asked Jason as we chilled on the other side of the pool. It was an obvious question to ask after his breakup with Carrie.
"Dunno, man. Guess I have to find a new girl soon, heh?" He answered, clearly not too worried.
"I mean, I would if I were you. You don't want to merge with your sister, I presume." I smirked.
He splashed water on my face. "Ugh! Please, no. But we have time, right? I mean everyone says it will happen on New Year's Eve.”
It was a popular rumor. There was no way to know for sure, but since the dream happened a few months prior, people were starting to relax to the idea it wouldn't happen right away.
"Maybe, yeah. But you can't be too cautious about that. Plus it's not like you lack the choice of partner. Half the girls in school want to fuck you, man."
He chuckled. "You really think I'm some kind of sex god or something? If you were not already in your perfect little couple, I'd think you have a crush on me, bro."
It was my turn to splash water at him.
"No but seriously, it must be so cool to have no doubts. You're going to spend your life stuck with your soulmate... You're one lucky dude, man." He said with more seriousness than usual.
"Yeah, I guess I am..." I answered, looking at my reflection in the pool. I couldn't mutter the strength to admit I also had doubts. Sure, being the other half of your half, it seemed like destiny, I couldn't deny that. And even if most of my mind was happy with this perspective, another, deeper part was sad. Who would we be in love with once we'd be one single being?
My thoughts were cut short by the sound of Sheril jumping in the pool. She quickly joined us, with Ann more gracefully following behind her.
"Let's play Chicken Fight!" yelled Sheril, a bit too enthusiastically.
"Again?" complained Jason. I shared the feeling: we played Chicken Fight every time we went to their pool. Well, at least it was a good excuse to caress Ann's smooth legs...
"Yes, but let's switch this time! I want to go on Sean's back!" said his sister in her bratty tone.
It took me by surprise. "Huh? Why?"
"Being on Jason is boring. He's, like, the worst horse. I just want to try out, pleaaaase!" she begged.
I wasn't keen on the idea at all, for obvious reasons. I was ready to rebuke the idea when Ann intervened: "Come on, guys. Try to be good sports, it's only for a few rounds."
Of course. Ann, the voice of reason. How could I say no to those eyes? I sighed and accepted. Seeing Jason take Ann on his back raised in me a pinch of jealousy, but I knew it was unfounded since I had complete trust in both of them. I crouched in the shallow water to let Sheril put her scrawny legs around my shoulders. Lifting her was the easiest thing in the world, and that was when I realized how underbalanced our two teams were: generally, Jason's bulk made up for Sheril's weak arms, which could then compete with our more standard duo. Me and Sheril had no chance.
Jason seemed to have done the same math. He grinned at me with his dashing smile, and charged.
"You okay up there?" I asked Sheril when we rose back from the depth, disoriented.
"Uh-huh. Let's try again." She said, sounding less convincing than she probably wanted.
We brawled for a bit, trying to make the most of our only asset: swiftness. Sheril's light weight allowed me to move around as we spared and I could see Jason starting to tire faster than me. Sheril was laughing loudly, apparently enjoying being tossed in multiple directions. I had to admit that I was starting to have fun too as I saw a thin chance of a possible win.
That's when I saw it. I stopped in my tracks, trying to discern what I was witnessing.
Jason rushed to us when he saw me stop, and I had to stop him loudly: "WAIT!" I screamed. It seemed to work as attended. "W-what's going on with your hands?"
Jason's hands were holding firmly on Ann's thighs, but I couldn't seem to find any gaps between their skins. It looked like they were... fused. My heart sank at this thought. No, no, no, no.
Jason, noticing he couldn't move his hands off Ann, was slowly joining me in the realization. He jerked them violently. Instinctively, I tried to do the same, only to understand I was in the same predicament. My head was boiling with fear. Not now, not now, not now…
The girls took a few more seconds to notice, both screaming in horror. I joined sight with Ann. In the middle of her shock, I could see resignation and sadness starting to rise while her eyes were filling with tears. On my back, Sheril was thrusting and swinging like a mad girl, trying desperately to free herself from my hands that were slowly but surely disappearing into her legs. I tried to lift my head to her face, but it was now firmly glued to her crotch, locking my neck in place.
My eyes locked on Jason in front of me, whose hands had already entirely entered Ann. His head had started entering her abdomen. He looked at me with desperation. He said something to me. I couldn't hear anything behind the screams coming from the top, but I managed to read his lips: "I'm so sorry." After that, he walked towards the edge of the pool as his head completely disappeared inside Ann.
I stayed paralyzed for a few more seconds before my survival instinct kicked in. I tried walking too, but Sheril's hysterical tantrum made it impossible as we stumbled into the water more and more. My vision finally blackened. I fought a little more before I was unable to breathe, either because of water or Sheril's body, I couldn't say. My consciousness quickly-
***
Sheril
My name, at that moment in that place, was Sheril. I lived in the Sunny Hills, a calm suburb above the city, with my parents and my big brother Jason. In a few days, I was starting my last year of high school. It was cool in a way: seniors are the ones all the freshmen are looking up to, but who was I kidding? Nobody was looking up to me, figuratively and literally.
I was the scrawniest girl possible. Only Holly was worse in that category, but she had an illness or something, so she didn't count. I had no breasts to speak of, the flattest ass imaginable. Sure I wasn't ugly, but a cute face doesn't make up for the absence of a body.
My friend Sasha always told me I should wear sexier clothes, but she didn't know what she was talking about. She had tits for days, a bit too much even. What does revealing clothes do when you have nothing to reveal, really? Nothing, you just look stupid. I had to play with the cards in my hand, and my only card was cuteness. So I wore cutesy clothes. Not like my mom would have accepted anything more. If I listened to her, I'd go to school in a space suit. I preferred to be called a child than a nun, personally. At least I had a few guys looking at me. Not the right one, though.
Sean had been my big crush since I entered high school. Tall, half-Asian, jet-black hair hiding his deep black eyes... He was just my dream type, like right from a K-pop band. And it wasn't just his looks. He had that aura of mystery. That low and soothing voice. That shy side-smile that let you wonder what he was thinking about... and he was so romantic. The way he cared for his girlfriend was obvious and intense. Because, yes, Sean had a girlfriend. Not only did he have a girl, he had THE girl. Ann was, like, probably in the top 3 most popular girls in the whole school last year. She was so smart and beautiful, it was just unfair. And the worst part is that I couldn't hate the bitch for how nice she was. I was so jealous of her, it hurt. I couldn't help but compare myself all the time.
I was waiting on the lounging chairs, covered in solar cream. Last summer, I had ended up red as a beet, so I didn't want to risk it this time. I lifted a brace from my swimsuit and took a pick: almost no tan lines. I was just not made for summer. Sasha had invited me to join her at the mall, but I had told her I couldn't today. Because as usual, Sean was coming to the house.
“Ah, I hear them,” said Jason as he came out of the pool. “They prolly want to enjoy their last pool day in peace, Sheril, so don’t start pestering them like usual, huh?”
I stuck my tongue out. Gosh, Jason was the worst brother. He always treated me like I was 5 and I was so sick of it. That goof probably thought he was some sort of womanizer with how many girlfriends he had over the years. I knew the truth though: they broke up each time they realized how fucking dumb he was. His friendship with Sean was a mystery I never managed to crack, but I wasn’t complaining: at least my stupid brother was useful for one thing.
I rolled my eyes watching Jason walk back into the house. I pity the girl who’s going to merge with him…, I thought.
On the day of the Dream, I had first hoped I would merge with Ann so I could be with him. But I quickly understood it would only work with a guy. I of course imagined merging with him. It would be quite romantic in a way, but I realized it meant also killing all hopes of going out with him. But hearing them talk about it, I knew Sean and Ann wanted to merge together. It wouldn’t be so bad, actually: if they merged, they wouldn't be a couple anymore, it would be my chance! I just needed the right partner. I knew of a guy in school who had a crush on Ann (like half of them really). He wasn't too shabby so I told him about my plan. He seemed to be on board. Now I only needed to get closer to Sean before the merge, so he could see me as the next best thing!
At that moment, the door from the patio opened and Jason came out with his friends beside him. "Okay, Sheril, stay cool this time," I repeated to myself.
I beamed and greeted them as they arrived, showing them the new ribbons. Sadly, Sean didn't seem to care much and quickly went into the pool with Jason. Of course, I should have guessed ribbons were not the appropriate subject of conversation... stupid. Ann seemed a bit more interested though, and we talked a bit about our recent outfits. Ann has a great sense of fashion, sexy while keeping it modest enough. I wanted to master that, but I had hesitated to go too far in that direction. I didn't want people to see me as a tasteless copycat. Plus, it would hint a bit too much that I was trying to get Sean's intention by mimicking his girlfriend's style.
"Hum, Sheril?" she interrupted my train of thought. "How about we join the boys in the pool? I'm drying up with that sun."
"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" I said, hoping I wasn't bothering her. "Oh! We should go for a game of Chicken Fight! Do you think we can mix up the teams this time?"
I've been waiting to team up with Sean for once, but it was difficult breaking those two up. I hoped that, by asking Ann first, it wouldn't sound too desperate.
She took a second to answer. "Sure, why not? If the guys are okay."
After a bit more convincing, the guys accepted as well. Sweet! The idea of climbing on Sean's shoulders was already making my heart flutter. He lifted me with ease as I took the opportunity to caress his thick dark mane. What a treat! I was thankful to be in a pool at the time, as my face reddened like a tomato... I was soon put out of my daydreaming as the others shoved us into the water without warning. Jason was his usual brute, of course.
As I climbed back, Sean asked me if everything was alright. I felt like his personal little princess, it was magical! The second round went better. Sean was moving me around so much that I couldn't help myself laughing. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and yelled. "WAIT!"
I was surprised by the abruptness. "What's going on?" I asked, but Sean didn't react. Instead, he addressed Jason, asking him about his hands. I didn't understand, but I could feel my partner's body tensing underneath me. My brother started shaking around violently, and I finally saw it: his hands were stuck to Ann's legs. Not just stuck: fused, like tin on a circuit board. I screamed in horror and tried to get off Sean. No dice. "WHAT'S GOING ON!? WHAT'S GOING ON!?"
They couldn't answer me, too focused on their own thoughts and feelings. My mind was too alarmed to think straight, but as much as I tried to pull myself off his shoulder, I only felt like I was sinking deeper inside him. I finally understood as I saw my brother's face completely disappear inside Ann. The Merge, it was happening. I was merging with Sean! I didn't want to, I wasn't ready to die. I wasn't ready to become someone else. I cried and cried and pulled harder. In the end, Sean fell into the water. I couldn't break free. We were about to drown and I couldn't break free. My last sensation was his head moving inside my belly. How odd...
***
The Wake
Air pulling inside my lungs woke me in shock and pain. A mouth was on mine. I jerked away and coughed out a bunch of chlorine-filled water, the chemical smell stinking up my nose. My lungs were on fire, and it took me a few minutes of coughing to start breathing somewhat regularly again. Even more painful was my head. My brain felt like a throbbing core and my memories were in shambles. I couldn't think of anything before my wake without it burning my frontal lobe.
I focused on my environment. The sun was beating hard on my skin. The pool, yes. I know this place. I must have drowned. My chest felt compressed by a very tight fabric. A silhouette was shielding the beams from my eyes. I could only discern a vague shape. I should know them... my brother? I called the name that came to my mind: "J-jason? Is that... you?" my voice was weak in my biting throat.
The silhouette didn't respond, and got out of my sight, blinding me with the light. Jason... my brother? He's not, though. I don't have siblings... or do I? I decided to sit up to collect my thoughts. Keeping my eyes low to restore my sight, it was then that I saw my body for the first time. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, but I was certain without a doubt that it wasn't that. Something seemed wrong. I was bigger... or smaller? Definitely bigger in some areas, at least. I was wearing a loose swimming trunk over a constricting flowery one-piece. Both gears felt weird and familiar at the same time. What didn't feel familiar was the breasts on my chest. It was a lot bigger than what I was used to. It made sense since I wasn't used to anything at all... right?
My creamy white skin was sticky with solar protection. A reassuring fact since the sun was beating me for who knows how long. I crawled to the shady part of the patio, under the pergola. My mind was slowly but surely coming back to me. I was in my house. I was spending time with my friend and his sister, my girlfriend and my brother... and his friends. The number didn't seem right. Most of the common knowledge was still here, the hazy part was about my daily life. Too many incoherences.
As I sat back on my strangely ample bosom, on the darker side, I could see more clearly. Someone else was here, curled up against the decorative brick wall. They were holding their knees, staring into space. A girl, at first glance, though fairly muscular, with a boyish haircut. Her face... she looked like my girlfriend Ann. Ann... There was no doubt Ann was my girlfriend. For the first time, I was certain of someone's relationship with me. This girl's face looked so much like hers it was uncanny. Like a big sister, maybe. "She has a wider mouth", I thought. Her body was bigger though.
"Who...?" I tried to talk to her, but I wasn't sure what to ask. There was too much to sort out anyway, and she seemed also to have a lot on her mind. The sound of my voice was also new. Deeper... no, higher. Different, for sure. I took a long breath. The swimsuit was too damn tight. Despite not wanting to undress in front of a stranger, I couldn't bear it any longer. I took the strips down my shoulders, freeing my new chest and keeping the swimsuit hanging around my torso. I was weirded out by the unfamiliar appendages, but also proud in a deep part of my brain.
Hogging them for a few seconds, I wondered what was between my legs, for some reason. As expected, it was the usual set of female genitalia, an equipment I should have been familiar with, having clear memories of possessing one. However, as my hand patted my crotch, I was struck by a feeling of vertigo. Something was supposed to be there. I was supposed to have a penis, I remembered having a penis. Again, those opposing memories.
I decided to concentrate on finding out the meaning of all this, rather than exploring my body further. Two sets of memories... What kind of phenomenon could cause that? And like that, the lightning that cleared the fog I was in since my waking illuminated my whole being: The Big Merge. The dream. The Merge happened and I was the result of it. I was two people.
Finally realizing that fact, everything made sense and it was so much easier to sort my memories in respective mental shelves. Names: Sean / Sheril; gender: Male / Female; age: 19 / 18... After a few minutes, I had a pretty clear idea of my two identities. As I was still in this tiring process, the girl interrupted me.
"Hey. Are you there? Are you okay?" She said in a low voice like she was imitating a man. She sounded rough but concerned.
I look back at her. It wasn't hard now to guess who she was. Who they were. My brother... my friend was now merged with my role model... my girlfriend. They had a fit body, a middle ground between Jason's brawny physique and Ann's slender silhouette. Their hair, while a bit longer, was similar in style to Jason's. The color though, was neither blonde nor brown, but something in between: a light auburn, almost reddish. Their face was a lot more similar to Ann's than Jason's. A bit squarer, maybe, but still extremely beautiful. Their chest seemed a bit smaller than Ann used to be, but I inferred it might just be because of the bigger frame.
They were still wearing Ann's bikini top and probably the bottom too under Jason's trunks.
A sad realization finally set in as I diverted my gaze. Ann... I was supposed to be with her, with my soulmate. My brother had taken her from me. And now I was stuck, stuck with... myself. I instinctively put a hand on my mouth, as if I expected to throw up. I felt grossed out by my Sheril half. A punny, stupid, and bratty little girl. A loud mouth incapable of self-reflection, that's who I was. In reality, Sean didn't have such a low esteem of Sheril, but the sensation of losing my loved one was angering me, which in turn activated my Sheril insecurity. My two identities were bringing out the worst of each other and a wave of self-hatred swept me away. I started sobbing loudly, making me hate even more my girly and immature side.
"Wow, hey! It's alright, it's alright." My brother/girlfriend said, surprised by my sudden reaction. She took me in her arms, enveloping me like a mother would do to her child. It felt good, as much as I didn't want to admit. Ann was still there, she was still there with me even if she looked a bit different. It calmed me to think that, and I quickly reciprocated the embrace, hugging her tight around her firm waist. I was definitely smaller now. I finished sniffing like that for a few minutes as she caressed my hair (which I noticed was still styled as pigtails).
I finally managed to get a hold of myself and sat back straight. "S-sorry about that. I guess it's hard dealing with those new emotions..."
"I get what you mean, sis. Don't sweat it." She replied with a signature Jason wide grin.
I recoiled in horror. "SIS?!" I screeched, louder than was my intention.
They gave me a quizzical look. "Well, yeah. I know I look a bit different now, but it's me, Jason. You still haven't figured it out?"
I frowned. "I know who you are in there. I just expected you to be Ann."
They (or maybe he) laughed. "Okay, you're still not fully getting it yet, Sheril. It's alright. I'm actually both me AND Ann. We merged."
I winced at the name. His little smug tone was a premiere for me. Or at least my Sean part. It was fairly common for Sheril though, and annoying as hell. I pinched my nose in frustration, in a typical Sean fashion. "I know who you are. Both of you." I said in a low and slow manner. "You are as much Ann as you are Jason, so why are you talking about her in the third person?"
He looked at me with a dumb expression. "I dunno. It just feels more natural. I feel more like Jason than Ann. What's the big deal, sis?"
My face was slowly decomposing. I stood up in disarray. "What do you mean by that? How can you be more one than the other? AND STOP CALLING ME SIS, I'M SEAN!"
It took me a few seconds to register the irony of my comment. And a few more to think about that. I wasn't more Sean than Sheril, not really. I remembered equally growing up as a boy and a girl, their lives, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. But something felt a bit wrong when I thought of myself as Sheril. My Sean personality was too strong maybe? Not really. Sheril was a lot more vocal, usually. No, the difference was a matter of Ego, of confidence, I realized. Sheril had a major lack of self-esteem, now reinforced by the image Sean's mind was reflecting of herself. And while I, Sean, wasn't particularly the most confident individual of all time, it never had been a big problem in my life either. Plus, reciprocally, Sheril's love was boosting my Ego big time, which was kinda sad. She just preferred to see herself as me rather than I preferred to see myself as her, and as long as I believed it like that, I could more or less function.
Jason lifted himself up. The new girl was towering me big time, my eyes ending up at the level of her breasts. Jason had always been taller than me, but not by much. I had been decently tall -much more than Ann at least- and even if their fusion had taken more of his height than her, it made me realize how small I had become. I was only a few inches taller than Sheril was, which didn't mean much.
"If you want me to call you Sean, it's fine with me, si- huh... man." He chuckled. "Sorry, it's a bit hard though, you look so much more... girly," He said and pointed to my bare chest.
I turned red from embarrassment. I had completely forgotten that part. I quickly ran to the lounge chairs to take my Sheril's towel from one of them, rolling it around my torso. My perky breasts kept it tucked neatly.
"Okay, let's start again," I said as I walked back to them. "Can you please concentrate on Ann? I understand it comes easier for you to act like Jason, but I need to talk with my girlfriend right now..."
They winced at that and looked away. "I... I don't think I can do that."
"I'll be Sheril if you want afterward!" I pleaded. "I just need to witness she's still here somehow... That you're still alive, Ann. Please."
I took a step towards them, and they took a step back. They were still avoiding eye contact. I let them think in silence for a few minutes. They were pacing around, looking at their hands.
Finally, they spoke: "She's in here, Sean. Don't worry about that..."
"Then talk to me! As Ann! I know it's possible, I'm in the same situation as you, remember?" Even if it wasn't natural to think of myself as Sheril, she was still me. I knew I could summon her personality if necessary, like standing on one leg rather than the other. But right now, I was too focused on my bond with the love of my life, a powerful feeling that Sheril had never felt until now.
"I just can't do that right now. I need to stay Jason."
"Give me at least an explanation!" Bits of Sheril's stubbornness were leaking into my mind.
They sighed. "She's not feeling right, okay? It would hurt too much..." Their voice sounded tighter and tighter. I could see it, she was struggling not to come out, shielding herself behind Jason's big personality. But Jason had probably never felt that either, he must have been lost to this strange new pain.
I very slowly took a step forward, as if I was trying not to scare a frightened animal. "Baby," I said in the calmest voice I could mutter. "I know I look very different right now, but it's me. I'm here, okay? We're still together-"
She pushed me away with her two giant arms. The strength and speed were enough to throw me away on several feet. I wouldn't have been able to stay standing if not for the wall behind me.
"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER!" she cried in a much more feminine voice than it had been. Tears started rolling from her eyes. "It's over, don't you get it? It was our only chance and we blew it. We were supposed to be together forever, it was our destiny, our dream and now it's gooone..."
She wailed like I had never heard her wail, and certainly not Jason. My eyes were feeling up again at the sight. I knew her feelings, and I wanted to curse the world too, but I was also so relieved to hear her back. Ann, my only true love, was still here at my side, behind it all.
I hugged her again, this time trying to comfort her. She was so tall it didn't feel right, but she took me in and bent down to put her wet face on my shoulder. I stood there, caressing her back and letting her take it all out.
After a moment, I led her to a lounging chair so we could sit next to one another. "Do you remember the last time you felt sad like that? I guess it was when Jumbo died. We did a Viking funeral..." I said in a weak voice.
She gave me a weak smile. "You made the tiny boat yourself. It was very sweet of you to take so much time for my stupid frog."
"Jumbo was not stupid, he was just special! And I couldn't let you flush him in the toilet." I snarled.
She chuckled, still sniffing. Taking a trip down memory lane wasn't without reasons. I wanted her to focus on herself, on us, and help her understand that the small girl in front of her was still her boyfriend. It seemed to work as intended because she looked me in the eyes with a sad smile. Her deep dark eyes, reddened by the tears, were still hers.
"If I look closely, I can still see you in there..." she said meekly. It made me realize I hadn't seen my face yet.
"I am. Still here. Still by your side." I answered.
She looked back at her feet, biting her lips. "Except you're my sister now..."
It fell on me like a brick, waking back my Sheril part. Even if Jason was hard to discern under this girl's traits, I knew it was really my brother I was looking at. I was in love with him, indirectly, and the idea was quite nauseating. I kept silent for a moment, wondering. Was Sean's love strong enough to make me do something so revulsing like incest? I just have to forget about Jason. He's not relevant anymore, I thought. As much as I knew how immoral it was, I wanted to hold on to this love. I wanted to forget myself in it.
I looked back at her, and with the most quiet voice, I uttered: "I don't... care."
Her eyes widened back at me in surprise. Apparently, she was going through the same fight. But I knew her. I knew our mutual feelings could win any challenges. Slowly, like she was about to touch a flame with her bare hands, she approached her face to mine. We were both red like the day of our first kiss. As I could feel her hot breath hitting my nostrils, I closed my eyes and ended the gap myself.
Our lips met with intensity. Her tongue was first to enter my mouth, taking the entire space. She wasn't kissing like we used to at all, but I didn't care: at this moment, I was like a maiden experiencing her first kiss ever. Our size difference made it natural for me to assume a new, more supporting role. We kissed passionately for an unknown amount of time, completely lost in bliss.
As we finally broke it, we knew our love was indestructible. It had survived the biggest challenge we had ever met, and we smiled at each other, truly happy.
"I would have missed that." She finally said. "If we had fused together I mean. We wouldn't be able to make out, I guess."
As we cuddled, my eyes met with her crotch. I gulped when I caught on the suspicious bulge it sported. "Huuh... D-do you have..." I started saying, not daring to finish my sentence.
"A dick? Yeah, I still have one. Or have one now, I guess. You don't?"
I shook my head, taken aback by their bluntness.
"Weird. I wonder what are the rules about that... Maybe I was just packing more than you." They said with a grin.
The fact Jason's personality reappeared while we were still cuddling made me wince. I broke the hug. "Of course talking about that would make you Jason again..."
They laughed. "Don't worry, I'm still Ann too. I think I'm slowly finding a balance between them both."
My curiosity for male genitals coming exclusively from Sheril, it was also canceled by the reminder it was Jason's pickle between their legs. I made a disgusted face when he tried to cuddle back.
"Oh, I see Sheril is here." He mocked.
I pulled out my tongue, either sarcastically or instinctively, I couldn't say. He guffawed and stood up, stretching their chiseled body.
"Maybe we should go inside now that we're feeling better. I'm curious to know more about the global situation."
I followed at their side as we walked back. "By the way, isn't it too quiet around here? You would expect chaos, people screaming... Are we the only ones merged?"
"Naaah, we all had the dream," they said with leisure. "It's a very calm residential neighborhood. The few old couples around must be lost sorting all their memories, but I'm sure it's a lot more chaotic downtown."
That made sense, but I still had lots of questions in my mind. What about people driving? Or in planes? It must have caused accidents all over. What about people with no opposite gender nearby?
"What about Mom and Dad?" I decided to ask.
"Which ones?"
"The ones we share, dummy," I answered back, very Sheril-like.
"I'm your boyfriend now, you shouldn't call me like that." They joked.
I winced at the insinuation. "Girlfriend. As Ann." I snarled.
"Sure, but I'm still the one with a cock here..." She answered, pinching my bubbly butt with one hand.
"Yeek!" I screamed with a jump and they laughed loudly. I slapped the hand with a mean gaze. The cocky attitude coming from Jason was very new in a flirt setting and I was scared to find out how this relationship was going to play out. Each time Jason's personality was acting out, my Sheril instincts were brought back too, which was slowly setting up a weird chasing game between us and the immoral aspect of our bond.
***
The Shower
We walked past the sliding doors inside the cool interior. Our house. I chuckled at the fact I was now officially living with my girlfriend. I guess we had two addresses now, but this house was a lot nicer than Sean's old one. My parents might not like it, though..., I wondered. Come to think of it, I should try and contact them as soon as possible.
"Well, first thing I wanna do is see my face," I said out loud.
"Oh yeah, same. I tried to see my reflection in the pool but I couldn't catch much."
A wide mirror was hanging in the hall near the stairs. I held my breath and I stood in front of it.
It was one thing to not recognize the body you're in, it was another level to see a new face in the mirror. And what a face. I was hella cute. Sheril's pretty face had blossomed under some of Sean's more mature traits. My eyes were still blue, but instead of big round balls, they had taken Sean's almond shape. The whole face was more vixen while keeping some of Sheril's original innocence. My hair was jet black had kept the pigtails, reminding me of some Asian cosplayers. I looked a lot closer to my actual age. Who would have thought that merging with a guy would have made me so feminine?
"Woow. I look a lot more like Ann than Jason, heh? No wonder you were expecting me to act like her at first." My partner said as they made all kinds of weird faces.
"Well, I certainly don't look like Sean," I added.
"You do in some ways. At least you don't look as much like Sheril as I do Ann. That's a relief."
"I bet..."
They looked at me through the mirror. "For Ann, the simple fact that Sean is inside is enough, but for Jason, I have to try and trick my mind into thinking you're just an unknown gorgeous girl who happened to share some similarity with my sister."
I blushed at the compliment. Being called gorgeous was raising some of Sheril's ego. I took off the ribbons from my hair, letting it flow on the back of my neck. "Does that help?" I asked.
"Thank god, yes." They sighed and bent down for a kiss.
I reciprocated, but more timidly, not able to shake the feeling I was kissing Jason this time. As we broke, I cleared my voice. "I really need a shower, my skin is still sticky from the solar cream..."
"Oh, okay." They said, sounding a bit disappointed.
I gave them a peck on the cheek as an apology. "I'll be back soon, I just need to freshen up."
I entered the spacious bathroom on the second floor. It was interesting to compare the quality of life of my two families. Sheril had never realized how good she had it before. Spoiled brat, I scowled myself.
I finally had the chance to put off my mixed swimwear. Looking at myself again in the mirror, unclad with my dark mane untied, a strong feeling of vanity and pride enveloped me. I gave a cocky smile at my reflection. I was fully female and had no explanation for that. My biggest wonder was my new perky breasts that I had estimated to be a C cup. Far from Sasha's utters, but still a very big improvement on my previous sizes. Where could they come from?
I took a deeper examination at my crotch. I could feel a mourning coming from Sean's loss of his manhood. As my Sheril part was more accustomed to the female anatomy, it was taking the lead in this investigation. I looked back at my reflection's gaze while running my fingers around my slit. How strange, I thought, to be aroused by my reflection. The taste for girls was new to me as Sheril, and it wasn't unpleasant. I bit my lips as I pushed a finger inside, it was already wet. My own muffled moan was raising the flow even more.
Not wanting to be caught by my brother, I turned on the shower, to better resume my exploration behind the sound of falling water. The wide shower was also equipped with a mirror on one side, so I could still peek at myself. Taking advantage of my Sheril mind under the wheel, I decided to partake in a little fantasy. I started imagining Sean going down on my new self.
"Sean... keep going..." It was a weird revelation for Sean, who was now also experimenting self-arousal, by his old male self. As cringed as he was deep inside of me, I for once felt even more pleasure. My love for him was drowning him, forcing him to watch in disarray.
"We are one now, Sean. You're inside me. I'm inside you... We're *moan* together forever."
I was slowly speeding up the pace, feeling a climax already climbing its way. "Sean! I love you, Sean! I'm closer to you than Ann would ever be!"
Here it was, my first orgasm in my new home. "You're mine! You're mine! You're miiiiine!" I screamed at my reflection, as the powerful wave of pleasure engulfed me.
Catching my breath, I chuckled: "Who's the brat now, huh?"
*knock, knock, knock*
"Sean? Is everything okay? I heard you scream."
The call of my other half's name was enough to flip me back. Shame quickly replaced my earlier demeanor. I felt like I had cheated Ann with myself.
Not hearing a response, she opened the unlocked door. Shit.
"I... knocked a toe in the corner!" I improvised weakly.
The sliding doors were filled with steam, so I couldn't see her. I only heard the sound of rubbing clothes. A few seconds later, the doors opened.
"I thought it would be quicker if we shared a shower," she said. "Or it might take longer if we knocked another toe."
She smiled mischievously. My eyes went instinctively to the odd member attached to her otherwise feminine body. Neither Sheril nor Sean could attest to its resemblance to Jason's old one, but it was certainly sizeable. Its length was not what made me stare longer than I should have: the lack of visible testicles was my first surprise. The skin around it was also making some kind of fold.
"Yeah I know, it doesn't look exactly like your classic male anatomy." They chuckled.
It seemed to work fine though, as the already half-erected penis rose slowly to a full stand. I became crimson and looked away, my stare certainly responsible for the change of elevation.
They closed the distance, gently lifting my chin with their fingers, and kissed me once more. Never had Ann been so assertive before. Jason's personality had completely changed our dynamic. I was now the submissive one. I didn't know what to think of it yet, still figuring out where this relationship was going. The hard hot rod poking at my belly made me flinch back.
"I-I don't know if I'm ready for that yet..." I said, a bit guilty for my earlier session.
"If not for the full act... would you mind helping me with that thing? You know... with your... mouth?" She muttered. The shyness at the request made it typically Ann. She always had a coy demeanor when she felt kinky, which was quite often.
"You want me to give you a blowjob?!" I gulped. For some reason, I had even more apprehension for oral than actual regular sex.
She went on the defensive: "Oh come on! I've done it all the time for you, what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that I've never done it, for once..." I answered.
"Not even Sheril?" She asked.
I shook my head. Sheril was a virgin, actually. I had a few boyfriends, but never went farther than kissing.
"Well, I won't force you, of course." She said reassuringly, clearly fighting against her male urge. "Let me take care of it myself."
I sighed. If I wanted to continue my relationship with Ann fully, I'd have to do it sooner or later. "No, it's okay. I'll try."
"You're sure? I don't want you to feel obliged..." She said with utmost seriousness.
I smile at her caution and nod. "I guess part of me is kinda curious."
"Don't tell me which part, please." She said, wincing a bit.
Right... I was about to commit incest. Jason was probably trying his best to forget I was also his sister. I crouched awkwardly, not wanting to hurt my knees on the tiling. The pulsing dick was a few inches from my face. Closing my eyes, I tried to make the mixing between my two personalities. Putting Sheril away while keeping her interest in the male appendage was difficult, but I was slowly coming to it. I'm a girl, a heterosexual girl who's about to give a blowjob to my lover, Ann…
I put my lips on the tip. The smell wasn't as potent as I thought, even enjoyable. Then I took a grip at the base of the shaft with one of my dainty hands, the other one holding her firm leg to keep balance.
"Oh boy..." said my partner, holding onto the wall with anticipation.
Slowly, I pushed the head to my mouth, parting my lips. As it went in, I realized the girth was a lot harder to fit in than I expected. I had to almost dislocate my jaw like I was trying to take a bite of a giant burger.
"T-try not to put your teeth on it..." complained Ann.
"Hmm mmHmm!" I replied.
"What?"
"I'm trying," I repeated after putting it out. "You're just too big."
She laughed, a bit embarrassed. "Never had that problem with you..."
I gave her a dark look. "Shut up if you want me to resume."
"Yes ma'am."
I put myself back in character. That time, I curled my lips around my teeth so as to limit their contact with the shaft. I then started giving it a back-and-forth motion. It wasn't a very practical experience, but looking up, I saw my partner looking at me in fascination. It was an odd angle, her face shielding me from the water pouring around, her wet short hair leaking thin flows on my head. Her chest was covering part of her chin and in her eyes shined a lust I never saw in her.
The blow was not very pleasurable in itself from my perspective, but her desire for me was enough to stir my own arousal. I felt happy to give, I felt sexy and I felt love. I started putting more sensuality in my work and kept eye contact. I broke the pace with licks and kisses in between strokes. Her only reaction was small grunts, enough to comfort me that I was doing something good.
Playing a lot on my feminine charms was somewhat dangerous as I was close to waking too much of Sheril's mind. I'm sucking my brother's cock! was the last thing I wanted to think about, but if I went too much on the other side, Sean would be noticing he had another guy's cock in his mouth. It was a true rope-dancer act, but as long as I kept my poise, the experience was outstanding. My hand wanted nothing more than play with my clit, but I couldn't risk it in my shaky stance.
The frustration sped up my back and forth, and without warning, her pulsing dick spurted hot semen into my mouth. Through pure motion reflex, I swallowed the bitter and slimy liquid, only to fall down and gag into the faucet. I spat what was left in my mouth, cleaning it with hot water, but what had been gulped stayed inside.
"Didn't you teach me to warn you when I was about to cum?" I snarled, the unpleasant taste still lingering in my mouth.
"S-sorry... I guess I was too focused on the feeling..." she answered not so apologetically.
I finally stood back up. Looking back in the mirror, I was slowly catching on to what I had just done. I sucked a dick. I sucked a dick as a girl and swallowed. My mind was fully back to Sean, which made me feel extremely ashamed as if a new level of my masculinity had been ripped from me. Is there still some left in me?
"God, that was... so intense. Even as Jason, I don't remember experiencing a head like that. Are you sure it was your first time?" They said, a bit too genuinely.
Well, now it's definitely gone... My face was already too red from the act to show any more of my shame. I gave my reflection a knowing smile. That being said, I'd also have loved a blow from that girl. Too bad she's me.
At last, I could have an actual wash.
"I don't know if any of my clothes will fit me," I said as we got out.
"Eventually we'll have to go shopping, but for now you can steal something from Mom's closet. I'm sure she won't mind." Jason answered as he played a bit with his breasts in the mirror. Yep, that's him in there right now. Probably all that male lusting summoning him back.
"Why do you say that?"
"I had a quick call from them while you were busy knocking your toe." He grinned.
I coughed to hide my embarrassment. I was relieved by the news. "Oh, they're alright? Who did they-"
"They merged together, as they wanted." He cut me, predicting my following question. "They're still at Auntie's house. She merged with one of her neighbor's sons, apparently. It's a bit of a mess out there, so they told me they won't be home tonight."
"What the plan for us, now?" I asked as I finished tying up a towel around my hair.
"Let's take the time to get news from our other families and friends for now. We'll decide what to do when we know more." They answered, pragmatically.
***
Phone Calls
As suggested by Jason, I looked into our mother, Elisa's closet. Her wardrobe was neither to any of my identities' tastes, but she fitted my new build fairly well. I was very sad at the fact none of my cutesy dresses would ever fit me now, at least half of me was. The other had not much to add in the matter of women's clothing except that Sheril's "cutesy clothes" were childish and it was past time for her to upgrade her style.
I skimmed out for something that wasn't screaming "old woman's outfit". The best I ended up finding was a yellow and blue floral dress that was SO old-fashioned that it was coming back to style. Her underwear options were a tad too small but worked fine for now. I added white tights to complete the look.
Walking back to the bathroom, I brushed my new silky hair and decided to style it in two low-braided pigtails, ending them with my precious ribbons. Maybe not the most mature hairstyle, but there was progress, and it just fitted the dress perfectly. Very Cottagecore. I'm so cute like this! I thought, smiling happily at my vintage look. I was ready to shoot an episode of Little House on the Prairie. Without thinking, I finished up by putting on some makeup: rosing my cheeks and enhancing my new eyes.
When some of my Sean's mind reappeared, I felt like I'd been bamboozled by myself. I'm doomed to be a girly girl now, am I? Well, I have to admit it does suit me.
As I went back downstairs, Jason/Ann was sitting on the couch, looking at their phone.
"That's what you're wearing, huh." I said not without contempt at their choice of outfit. They went for some of Jason's clothes, which were of course very loose on their new frame. The tank top they chose, which was probably the tightest Jason owned, was so wide it showed a big deal of their braless cleavage, while the elastic shorts, maintained to their waist by a makeshift belt out of some rope, were looking almost like a two-legged skirt.
They raised an eye to me at my comment. I proudly gave them a little swirl, posing. "Not too shabby, huh?"
After a few seconds of silence, they guffawed loudly. I made a pout to their reaction, hands on my hips.
"What."
"Oh nothing, nothing." they managed to catch their breath. "I guess you're back to Sheril, is all. I might have forgotten she was in there."
"Yeah, well, she's half of me, yes." I retorted "You know, I was hoping being with Ann would make you less of a jerk, Jason. Guess I was wrong."
"Oh come on, sis. Don't be upset. It's not a bad look, it's just really... you, I guess."
"Not more than your choice is really you, bro. You know you're not a guy anymore, huh? What's up with your outfit?" I interjected.
He shrugged. "Ann's slim jeans don't fit me anymore, as you might expect. I don't have much choice for now."
"Well, I hope it won't be your new style from now on..." I sulked as I sat in the armchair on the other side. I was too Sheril and he was too Jason to cuddle right now.
I reached for Sean's phone which had been sitting on the coffee table until now. There was a few missed calls from Mom's number. "Shit."
"What's up?" They asked.
"My mom. She's been trying to reach me. I should have done that sooner." I said, worried.
"You're right, I haven't tried to contact my other family either yet. Let's take care of that now." They looked for Ann's phone in her bag and went outside so we could each have some space.
I first tried to unlock my phone with my fingerprint, which of course didn't work. Thankfully, I still remembered my password. It took a pretty long time for the phone to pick up.
"Yes, who's this?" said a mysterious croaky voice. It didn't sound like my mother at all.
"Huh, Hi? I'm looking for Sandra. Sandra Wang?" I asked.
"Listen, girl. I'm having a hard time here, like everybody else, and I don't have much time. Can you start by introducing yourself?"
I was quite baffled by the unfamiliarity of the tone. Of course, I was expecting my parents to be merged, but the rude voice was completely unknown.
"I'm Sean, her son. Is my mother here? Is everything alright?" I started worrying.
It took them a few seconds to answer: "Oh, Sean! It's good to finally hear from you. Sorry, I didn't notice your name on the phone."
"Huh, Mom? Is that you?" I asked, still unsure.
"Well, yeah in part. That's my number, what did you expect?" She answered dryly. Her pitch, while still feminine, was very coarse, like a long-life smoker. It didn't make sense for a fusion of both my parents.
"Who are you with?" I asked the next logical question.
"Richard." I had no idea who that was. "Richard Dickinson? My coach from the swimming club. I guess I wasn't talking to you about it much, huh."
That was troubling, but it made sense. At this time of the day, my father might have still been at work.
"And what about Dad? Do you have news from him?"
"No." She said icily.
"Aren't you worried?" I asked, a bit surprised by the apparent indifference.
"Listen, kid. I have bigger fish to fry here. I tried to call the guy a few times already. I have a wife to take care of. The situation is enough of a mess as it is."
I was shocked by the tone. My mother had always been a polite and caring woman. Clearly, the other mind was leading at the moment.
"Can I actually talk to my mother, Richard?" I raised my voice.
I wasn't used to talking so boldly to one of my parents, but the tone they used on me since the beginning of the call was making it difficult for me to treat them as such. It seemed to be effective, as the silence following was telling.
"Ugh, alright. Sorry, Sean. I'm sure you know how it feels to share a mind with someone. It's easy to get lost. But I'm still here, sweetie." She said. The tone had changed drastically.
"Yeah, I understand," I answered, relieved.
"Did you merge with your girlfriend? Are you at her house?" She asked, a lot more concerned.
"No, I'm at the Sanders. I ended up with Jason's little sister..." I replied, a bit ashamed for some reason.
"Oh, I see. Sorry it didn't go like you wanted. At least you're in a nice home. Listen, it's probably better if you stay with them, at least for the time being. I have many things to get straight in Richard's life, and with your dad not answering my calls..."
"I'll try to call him. I'm sure he's alright." I said, trying to comfort her.
"I don't know much about the Sanders’ daughter, but she seemed to have a good effect on you, you sound more mature!" She teased. The irony made me chuckle with embarrassment. "Anyway, I really need to get going. I'll explain things to you later. Let's keep in touch, okay?"
"Sure, Mom. Good luck."
"I love you, son. No matter what, I'm still your mom."
I couldn't refrain my eyes from watering as I hung up. The reality of my family life being completely in shambles hit me like a rock. At the same time, I was relieved to hear she could still be herself. I took a few minutes to calm down. I could see Ann outside through the sliding doors, walking in a circle as she talked on the phone. What a fucking mess we're in…
I tried to call my dad, no dice. I tried to rationalize the fact he was probably still figuring things out. After all, it had taken me all this time to think about reaching out to them. But I couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened. At this hour, he could have been driving home when it hit him, pulling him in some kind of traffic accident... Did people have to touch each other for it to start? I didn't think about asking my mom how it happened to her, that would have been an obvious question…
I decided to search on the internet for information. Most news outlets were still bare of any news. I imagined most companies weren't in any state of running properly. The internet was still working at least, that was good. On social media, there were plenty of posts. Mostly it was people showing off their new appearance to the world: "Wow, I'm so freaking cute!", "My boyfriend and I merged. Look at the result, OMG I can't.", "So guys, smash or pass?", etc.
As I continued scrolling through the posts, I realized something interesting. The resulting appearances went from androgynous women to very feminine ones. There were no boys in sight, at least not apparent ones. Probably some of them had male genitalia (some seemed to confirm that), but no real masculine bodies anywhere.
Chewing this thought, I suddenly received an incoming call. I didn't know the number, but I answered anyway.
"Huh, hello?"
"H-hi. I'm trying to contact Sean?" the voice answered. It sounded very sultry and feminine.
"I'm Sean. Who is it?"
"Oh, thank god. I wasn't sure I remembered your number. It's me, dad." The woman said.
A wave of relief washed me. "Dad! I was worried. I tried to call you..."
"I'm so sorry, Sean! I lost my phone in the panic... It's a long story. Memories took some time to settle. Where are you? Are you alright? Did you merge with Ann?" His voice sounded quavering, he was visibly stressed out.
"I'm not with Ann no... I merged with Sheril. She's Jason's sister. We were at their house when it happened." I explained.
"Oh, okay! I guess you must be sad not to be with Ann, but that's still a good place to end up."
"What do you mean?" I asked, perplexed by his reaction.
"Well, the Sanders are quite the wealthy family. Now that you're their daughter, I guess it means you're inheriting it."
I was dumbfounded. He was right, sure, but the pragmatic calculation sounded very out of place in such circumstances. The Sheril in me couldn't help but find it offensive, like some kind of arranged marriage for money. Still, I let it slide, not wanting to start an argument.
"Sure, I guess. Who did you merge with, Dad? Mom tried to join you too, you know."
"Oh, huh. Just an unknown woman, I don't know." He said like he was trying to avoid the subject.
"You don't know? Wait, you don't have her memories?" I tried to clarify.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I meant I didn't know her before. I've seen her before, actually. She works at the company, but only from far away..." His speech was messy. I guessed it was his new "mindmate" personality altering his usual calmer demeanor.
"Okay. How did you two merge? Were you still in the office?" I asked, this time curious to know more about how it happened for people not in direct contact. A weird silence followed my question. "Dad?"
"Yes, I'm here, sorry. We were leaving the building at the same time. It happened in the parking lot. That's how I lost my phone and..." He started to explain.
My mind drifted away when I saw Ann walk inside. She passed the living room, gave me a quick glance with a stoic expression, and went upstairs. I could easily tell something was up.
"Anyway, Dad," I interrupted his incoherent rumbling." I need to go. You should call Mom as soon as possible. She was very worried about you."
"Oh, okay Sean. Actually, I have a lot to take care of here, myself. Can you text your mom for me? I'll call her soon, I promise but... it's complicated. Stay safe at the Saunders, I'm sure you'll be fine there for now." He wrapped up the conversation.
"Hm, sure. Keep me updated, okay? Bye, Dad." I terminated the call.
I couldn't help feeling spite at the way my parents could so quickly hand me over to another family. Was our bond so brittle? At least I knew I had a solid home here now. Mom and Dad would never get rid of me like that... The other ones, I mean.
I walked back upstairs and knocked on Jason's bedroom door. I entered to find Ann sitting on the bed, looking at her feet. "Is everything alright?" I asked with concern.
"I guess... Everybody's safe." She answered, still looking down.
I sat next to her. "What's up?"
She sighed. "It's Mia. She... she merged with Dad."
Mia was Ann's little sister. She was only 10, and Ann had always been very protective of her. I didn't get the full picture of what it meant right away.
"I can imagine being merged with a parent is not ideal..." I risked.
She looked at me with a serious gaze. "It's not just that, Sean. She's only 10 while Dad is 46." Her voice was heavy, trying to contain her sob, and failing. "Now they're apparently looking like a woman in her late twenties. It's so unfair, she skipped her whole youth!"
I took her on the shoulder, patting her back. I didn't know what to say to make her feel better. "H-how did she sound like? Sadden?"
"No, that's the worst part... My dad said he couldn't manage to let her out. He can't stop being in the lead. We... we think he has so much more life experience, he's completely overshadowing her, or something." She said out between her weeping.
As I let her tears soak my dress, I looked out the window. The sun was slowly approaching the horizon.
"You know how old we are right now?" I said after a while. She only sniffed in reply. "We're all really, what? 3 hours old, right now? 4, top."
She raised her head, looking at me with confused red eyes.
"It's only been a few hours since we woke up to our new lives. I know it's hard to believe with everything that happened, but that's the truth." I explained to her. "Don't you think it's a bit early to set things in stone? Your sister might take a longer time to come back to the surface than we did but don't give up on her so quickly. I bet if we put them in front of a My Little Pony episode, your dad won't stand a chance."
She chuckled a bit at my joke and dried her face with her tank top. "Thank you. You might be right actually."
"Of course I am! This all Merge-thing is fucking crazy. We don't know anything about how it works and we can't say how it'll play out tomorrow. I say let's wait a bit before drawing any conclusions, okay?" I reassured her.
She nodded, smiling faintly.
"You should probably go back to them tonight," I said, hiding my pain at the idea.
She, thankfully, shook her head. "It won't be necessary. Mom is with them, she merged with a random guy when she was grocery shopping. Apparently, he doesn't have much of a family of his own. She said it's probably safer not to go out until things settled in, anyway... What about your family?"
I recounted how my calls went.
"Well... you said it best: let's wait before drawing any conclusions. In any case, that settles the fact we shouldn't split. We have responsibilities here too, after all." She noted, before kissing me gently.
I was relieved to hear her say that. Not only was she also my brother, but Ann was above all my only anchor to my Sean life at this point.
***
Evening
"I'm tired of all those emotions. Since we woke up, it has been worry after worry." She said as she stood up. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
I hadn't noticed until now, but the mention of food was enough to give me stomach cramps. On that note, we went to the kitchen. I first tried calling pizzerias, but as expected: everything was closed. It made me wonder how society was going to organize itself now that the world population had been reduced by half. Some structures had already been thought of: we knew our government would soon distribute new identity cards displaying our two old selves. Most accommodations were still unclear though, as too little time separated us from the day of the Dream.
Thankfully the fridge was pretty much full, and Ann was an amazing cook. She surprised me with sautéed bell peppers, something she never did before because of my loathing for the vegetable. She knew from Jason's memories that Sheril, however, loved it. It was quite a weird experience to have half of my brain horrified by something I found so tasty. I ended up winning this fight against Sean and taught him all about the sweetness and crunchiness of bell peppers.
"You're such a great upgrade on my brother, Ann," I said between mouthfuls.
I laughed, their face indicating they didn't seem to know how to react to both a compliment and a jibe.
When the night finally came, we decided to go to bed early, as we were both feeling emotionally drained. Feeling awkward at the idea of sleeping together in either Sheril or Jason's beds, we settled on stealing the master bedroom, taking advantage of tonight's lack of parents.
Our nightly cuddles soon transformed into a make-out session. I blushed, feeling Ann's infamous new member hard against my soft leg. Looking into each others' eyes, we silently agreed to succumb to our curiosity. We both knew what it induced, and how wrong it would be to partake in it without the proper protection, but we both pretended to forget about it. After all, we were used to raw sex in our former bodies… She slowly took down my panties. My heart was pumping like crazy, and it didn't take long for my inside to produce the now-familiar wetness.
Ann was deep inside me. Completely absorbed into the female experience, I had managed to keep Sheril at bay thanks to her lack of sexual experience. Having a dick thrusting into our womb was as new for her as it was for me, and the mostly Ann face that was grunting and gazing into me right now was holding the balance in my favor. With so little of my female self to guide me though, the feeling of the receiving end was truly alien. The sheer discovery of my depth was blowing my mind. I couldn't help myself from moaning anymore, and showing such a feminine side to Ann was embarrassing me greatly. The shame itself also seemed to nourish some kind of twisted arousal. Did I always have a fetish like that? It didn't seem right.
"I'm inside you... Oh boy, I'm inside you..." Ann was whimpering between each push, apparently playing some newly discovered kink of her own. Ann who, before the merge, had always been so passive and shy during our sexual intercourses. But now, she was in the lead and I was wondering what was going through her head. She was living a similar shift in our dynamic after all… well the exact opposite really.
Her movement was increasing, and my moans were more and more audible.
In the middle of it all, Ann's lips let out a terrible truth: "Oh god! I'm really fucking my little sister..."
"What?! What did you... say??" My mind shattered at the statement.
My reaction didn't stop them. "I-I'm so sorry, Sheril. I'm sorry!"
Hearing my other name was flipping me back. I panicked. "Stop it! Stop saying that, you idiot!"
"Oh god! I'm doing it! I'm inside you, sis! We're having sex!" Like me earlier, the shame seemed only to fuel them more. He pushed with added vigor.
"Jason, no! Shut up! You're ruining it!" I whined, but it was too late. I was now fully myself again. Sean couldn't shield me from the truth anymore. I was having my first time, and despite his feminine traits, I could only see my brother's face above mine.
Despite my tremendous disgust, my body was not fighting it. It wanted more, and I was powerless to stop it.
"You're so sexy, Sheril! You're so cute! I can't stop myself!" He yelled, possessed by pure lust for his own sister. Since when did my brother have such awful thoughts? I wanted Ann back! I wanted to be Sean again! But despite my best efforts, I couldn't.
"I'm close, sis. Your freaky brother is gonna cum inside you!" He howled.
"Get out, you moron! At least don't cum inside me!" But instinctively, my legs and arms locked on him, betraying my reason. I moaned and cried at the same time, feeling my climax building up at the same time as his.
We reached it in unison.
"I love you, Sheril!" He screamed when the defilement spread inside of me. I was too absorbed in my own spike to register it, though. My mind was melting in pleasure. Sweet oblivion, take me. I wanted to stay in this state forever.
He collapsed on my side, spent. I stayed frozen in place as hot cum was dripping from my pussy. Slowly, I dug a little hole in the corner of my mind, refusing to face reality at this point.
"Ann? Are you there?" I asked quietly as I was forced into myself again.
"Yeah..." She answered in a whisper.
"What... was that?" I asked, truly more surprised than grossed out now.
"Sorry... I think that's my fault." She said. I didn't know what she meant.
"I mean Ann's fault. I think some of my personal kinks mixed into my Jason persona," she explained, visibly ashamed.
"What do you mean?" I said, intrigued.
"I never talked much about it with you but... I kinda have a fetish for sibling relationships. You know, from my private manga stash?" She looked at me with an awkward smile.
"So that's what those are, huh..." I said, finally solving that mystery. "Guess you don't have many secrets left now, do you?"
She only chortled disturbingly. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so. I needed to face the truth of our relationship sooner or later... I guess it was just sharper than I wished it to be..." I answered honestly.
She caressed my hand. "Sorry... again."
"Don't be, I know it's hard to control all of this... Fuck, we're really siblings now. This is going to be a challenge." I understood.
"The world is in such chaos right now. I'm sure our situation is far from being the weirdest one." She said.
"And what about... Mom and Dad?" I winced a bit as calling them like that was calling in my other half.
They gulped. "They must never find out, or we're truly fucked."
The Saunders were a pretty traditional family. Not that a lot of parents would accept their kids to fuck each other, anyway.
"It might spice things up, in a way. Doing it behind their back..." I said.
They raised an eyebrow in my direction. "Is someone warming up at this incestuous kink?"
"I wouldn't say that." I snarled. "I just need to play with this new hand of cards if I want to keep our relationship working."
"Good thinking... sis." They smirked.
"Ugh, that will take time to get used to, though..."
***
Epilogue
“Coming!” I shouted at the doorbell as I ran for the door, ecstatic.
The first year had been quite chaotic, but now that school had finally resumed, a semblance of normalcy had returned. The Great Merge Cabinet, also known as GMC, had managed to sort things out with more or less success, but it worked out in the end. For fusions like us who were just students, the protocol was actually quite simple: we all had to choose to resume one of our old curricula. Jason’s old prestigious college approval was only due to his basketball sponsorship, which was a bit flimsy to begin with, so it was logical for them to pursue Ann’s plans. As for me, Sheril had pretty good grades, so I had decided to go back to high school, this time determined to join them for the next year.
I opened the door to a delivery girl holding a package. Finally, it had arrived! I took the box to my room, eager to open it. Inside was a bunch of new clothes I had bought online. With people worldwide in dire need of outfits for their new shapes, finding something had been a trial at first. It took me the last two months to finally have this package. Before that, I had managed to gather a few clothes by trading my old one. Male outfits were harder to get rid of, but some resilient minds were still trying to clutch to their lost manhood. Others more crafty used discarded male clothes to fashion makeshift attires. I myself used some of Sean’s old t-shirts to make not-too-shabby tops. Really, trends were all over the place.
“Haha, there you are!” I said out loud as I found the dress I was looking for. Since none of Sheril’s old clothes were fitting me anymore, I had to give them all away. So I was glad I had found a similar one she had, only a few sizes bigger. I smiled at it with mischief.
I didn’t call myself Sean or Sheril anymore. With time, the frontier between our two old identities had blurred, and we all started to choose new names for ourselves. Ann and Jason had chosen the very creative name of Jane. It fitted them well, though. For my part, I had chosen a more distinctive one: Naomi. It was a name both Sean and Sheril liked a lot, and I cherished each time my two personalities would agree on something.
I didn’t wait long before putting on the light blue dress and modeling in front of my mirror. As Naomi, I was now used to more mature outfits that Sean found sexy on girls: hand-cut denim shorts, blazers, crop tops… urban streetwear styles, generally. But today I wasn’t dressing for Sean.
Since Sean’s mother found out that his dad had fused with his mistress, my other family had basically broken apart. I still saw them regularly, but separately, and I lived exclusively at the Saunders. Jane on the other hand had still a functioning family from their other half and was going back and forth between the two households. Between that and college, we were seeing each other only once every two weekends. It was hard, especially having to deal with our parent alone most of the time, but knowing it was just a matter of a year helped me pull through with it. They were coming home today, and I had missed them so much I wanted to treat them with something special…
Earlier in the day, I had gone to the stylist to dye my hair. As Naomi, I usually kept my hair loose or tied down, but today I was styling them in very familiar pigtails. I took a final look in the mirror. In front of me stood Sheril, wearing her favorite summer dress, her blonde hair tied in her signature style with her favorite ribbons. Thanks to some clever makeup, I had hidden most of Sean’s traits and enhanced hers. What betrayed me the most was my much more voluptuous curves, which I had no intention of hiding anyway.
“I’m home!” I heard a familiar voice call from downstairs. “Naomi? Are you home?”
“Upstairs!” I answered as I quickly climbed on my bed. Waiting for them to arrive, I lay on my stomach, propped on elbows, my feet swinging in the air and facing the doorway innocently.
“Hey babe-” Jane quickly stopped as she saw me. “S-Sheril!?”
I sat back, slowly pulling off a strip from my shoulder. “Hey, Jason. Mommy’s not home yet. Wanna play with your little sister?”
FIN
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I try not to think of myself as the bad guy. Yes, I found myself involved in the development of mind-control technology, but I did my best to protect the world from the worst of it. After that, things just kind of happened on their own.At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of three fellow human beings and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistants and sex slaves, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
* * *
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to plug a single thought out of one hand and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
* * *
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, I was left with only one option.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
* * *
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of three fellow human beings and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistants and sex slaves, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
* * *
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to plug a single thought out of one hand and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
* * *
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, I was left with only one option.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
* * *
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
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Elle and Sarah discover a magic notebook which makes everything written in it come true! This is a story designed to be an entry point for playing around with the story generation AI.
Elle wandered through her neighborhood, enjoying a sunny Saturday morning that turned the streets into a sprawling outdoor market of garage sales. She stood out with her long, light brown hair tied back in a casual ponytail, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans that made her feel at ease. Her keen green eyes scanned the tables and boxes filled with odds and ends, always on the lookout for something special.As she explored, Elle's gaze landed on a small, out-of-place leather-bound notebook nestled among a pile of old books and toys. It seemed ancient, its leather cover worn but inviting, with edges that shimmered like gold. Even from a distance, Elle felt an odd pull towards it, a sense of mystery wrapping around her heart.The seller, a short woman with a remarkably masculine presence, seemed completely out of place. She was wearing an oversized football jersey that hung awkwardly on her frame, adding to the peculiarity of her appearance. Her features were soft and her build small -- her height barely reached Elle's shoulder. There was something undeniably odd about her, as if her body didn't quite match the energy she projected. She was scowling when Elle walked up to the table."How much for the notebook?" Elle asked, her curiosity piqued as she reached out to touch the intriguing find.The woman's response came out throatily, as if she was trying to make her voice go deeper than it naturally would. "If you'll take it off my hands it's yours," she said, her scowl deepening. "But be careful, that book can bring both wonders and troubles. It's more powerful than it looks."Her warning, delivered with a seriousness that contrasted her ridiculous outfit, sent a shiver down Elle's spine. Yet, the allure of the notebook was too strong. Elle thanked her, a mix of excitement and apprehension stirring within as she took possession of the mysterious book.
Elle wandered through her neighborhood, enjoying a sunny Saturday morning that turned the streets into a sprawling outdoor market of garage sales. She stood out with her long, light brown hair tied back in a casual ponytail, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans that made her feel at ease. Her keen green eyes scanned the tables and boxes filled with odds and ends, always on the lookout for something special.As she explored, Elle's gaze landed on a small, out-of-place leather-bound notebook nestled among a pile of old books and toys. It seemed ancient, its leather cover worn but inviting, with edges that shimmered like gold. Even from a distance, Elle felt an odd pull towards it, a sense of mystery wrapping around her heart.The seller, a short woman with a remarkably masculine presence, seemed completely out of place. She was wearing an oversized football jersey that hung awkwardly on her frame, adding to the peculiarity of her appearance. Her features were soft and her build small -- her height barely reached Elle's shoulder. There was something undeniably odd about her, as if her body didn't quite match the energy she projected. She was scowling when Elle walked up to the table."How much for the notebook?" Elle asked, her curiosity piqued as she reached out to touch the intriguing find.The woman's response came out throatily, as if she was trying to make her voice go deeper than it naturally would. "If you'll take it off my hands it's yours," she said, her scowl deepening. "But be careful, that book can bring both wonders and troubles. It's more powerful than it looks."Her warning, delivered with a seriousness that contrasted her ridiculous outfit, sent a shiver down Elle's spine. Yet, the allure of the notebook was too strong. Elle thanked her, a mix of excitement and apprehension stirring within as she took possession of the mysterious book.
Would you believe Taylor if he said the love of his life sends him out to seduce other women, and leave them with nothing but his cum to remember him by?
Tuesday nights are typically meant to be spent at home. Usually couples are snuggled up in bed, watching television or mindlessly scrolling through TikTok dances and misinformation. But, not these two. For this couple in particular, this is their Friday night.
Not having regular weekends off has never been a big deal. But for Taylor McGinnity, it does tend to make the bar pickings a little slim. While he’s at the bar, killing back shots of Jack Daniels, his lovely girlfriend Mimi Choi is indeed at home. In her pajamas, watching Shameless, and eating Cheetos.
Bars have never been her scene. And it’s much better if he does this on his own. That’s how their makeshift midweek weekend tends to go. Neither of them mind. Especially not Taylor.
It had took him some time to adapt to it. To the dynamic of Mimi enjoying him fucking other women. The first few times, it had felt like an affair. It’s never been in his heart to be unfaithful, no, he genuinely loves Mimi. While he was adapting, she was enjoying it a lot more than he had been. Thankfully, that’s changed now. The adaptation period has worn off.
Some may say Taylor’s haircut belongs more in the seventies than it does in this decade. Long, choppy, bangs, all black, teased with hairspray. If you look at him in the right light, he looks akin to a pre-heroin Keith Richards. That’s what he’s always been told, anyway. Sporting a leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans, he’s been looking around the bar as discretely as possible.
He carries with him the mystique of an era already gone. Which Taylor has found to be something that works in his favor. Women love musicians. Especially musicians in bars. Typically, he wouldn’t drink this much. But the scent of alcohol mixed with his cologne and the light aroma of his shampoo is almost pheromonal. If he wants tonight to be successful, he has to agree on all the help he can get.
The music is flowing from a jukebox, something new and on the borderline of pop-punk. Not his thing, but he isn’t paying too much attention.
Not to the music, anyway.
A lot of this is a social nightmare. But he manages it somehow, having adapted, and knowing who and what he is doing this for. He likes to make Mimi happy. He likes to make her feel good. Plus, what man isn’t content he gets to fuck whoever he wants?
So long as Taylor remembers to record it. He won’t make the mistake of forgetting to set his phone to record ever again. Giving a light chuckle at the memory, the tall looker kills back the last of his Jack Daniels and places the shot glass upside down on the bar top. No more liquid courage for him, he’s got himself under control.
There’s a woman sitting at the end of the bar. The wavy shirt makes way to some long, freshly shaven legs. A delicate tan rests upon her skin. Wearing a tube top, her breasts are snugly held up by some sort of miracle. Billowing hair full of volume and the scent of cherry shampoo rests over her shoulders, a lovely shade of dirty blonde. She’s gorgeous, with French tipped nails and a pair of heels any man would love, pray, hope to be stepped on with. A gorgeous woman with an aura of class, despite her overtly lewd outfit. Tossing back whiskey shots with her friends like it’s nobody’s business.
Fucking delicious, a woman after his own heart.
After dropping a few bills onto the counter for his shots, Taylor stands up from his stool. Standing at his full height, adjusting his leather jacket a bit, he starts his stride. There’s no one already he’s already had. Taylor’s grateful for that as he looks around the bar during his walk. This should be an easy one, plus, she’s blonde.
He and Mimi love some blonde action.
The woman eyes him as he approaches, giving a pearly white smile. He’s tall, he’s hot, and she digs the leather jacket. Taylor returns her smile, licking his lips before sitting down. “Mind if I trade you a drink for your name?”
One hand goes to her thigh, his calloused musician hand on her soft skin. A true contrast. But he’s bold. Being bold and outgoing has gotten him this far.
If he were any other man in this damn bar, she would have slapped the piss out of him. Maybe even yanked out her pepper spray. But instead, she offers her name. “Tanya, and… yes, sure. Jameson?”
“One Jameson, for the lovely Tanya,” Taylor rubs at her thigh even more, letting his callouses lightly massage her skin. The bartender gives a nod, pouring the lovely blonde bombshell another shot of Jameson. He isn’t going to openly judge her about her tastes in alcohol.
But he’ll totally gossip about it with Mimi later on tonight.
Tanya tosses back the shot without so much as a groan. Truly a good match for him tonight. This bar is a goldmine. He keeps rubbing her thigh, pressing his luck, moving his hand higher and higher, under her skirt. When he finds she isn’t wearing any panties, his heart skips quite the fucking beat.
“Someone’s eager,” Tanya remarks as she leans a bit closer to Taylor.
“You’re the one not wearing any undies, Blondie.” Taylor knows what he came here for. And now he knows exactly what Tanya the Jameson lover is here for. The same thing.
They both wanna fuck like rabbits.
And, well, Taylor wants to record it. But she doesn’t exactly have to know that.
Tanya giggles, her breath smells of booze and cigarettes. And he fucking loves it, the way their tastes and scents will linger together makes him want to tremble and shiver at the mere thought. She’s a fucking beauty. Making his cock press up against his boxers, his jeans, quite a bit hard. It’s a discomfort every man knows about all too well.
Taylor leans over now, his hand finally leaving her thigh to slowly trail the very tips of his digits against her flesh as he moves her hair out of the way. Leaning in deeper, his breath hits the lovely blonde’s ear. A rather sudden outbreak of goosebumps appear on her skin.
But he’s still going lower, lower, down to her neck. The tender, supple flesh is purely irresistible to his natural pout, his lips gently pressing against her pulse point. A purr leaves his lips as his other hand moves to the other side of her face, an almost caring hold to have her in.
Taylor doesn’t actually care. He just wants to fuck her guts out and record it. Clearly a man of simple pleasures.
Carefully, his face pulls up, lips back against her ear. Every word placing a soft kiss to her lobe. “Would you like to get out of here with me?”
Tanya’s breathing becomes apparent to her, having to focus on every inhale and exhale to keep herself from moaning too much. Or too loudly. Because this shit is driving her absolutely fucking wild.
“I’ll call us an Uber,” she finally manages to respond. Good thing she offered the Uber, he’s left his phone at the motel room. Ready to record.
It’s a whirlwind of clothes coming off when they finally make it to the motel room. Taylor only had a moment to set his phone to record. It rests on a mini tripod behind the curtain, on top of the air conditioner. Which he was smart enough to turn off. Nothing ruins a video like a loud HVAC system. Only the camera is exposed, yet not obvious.
Taylor’s jacket is on the floor now, with his jeans, with her skirt, and now with her tube top. Her breasts are immaculate, he pushes her onto the bed and crawls right on top of her. One hand goes to each breast, gently squeezing while easing his head down.
Tanya lets out a loud squeal as Taylor wraps his lips around her right nipple. His tongue swirls around the swollen nub, his mouth creating a gentle suction. As he laps and suckles upon one breast, his hand teases the other. Squeezing, kneading, pinching at her nipple contently.
She tastes so fucking good, and knowing it’s all being record, it feels amazing. He can’t wait to watch it with Mimi.
Tanya writhes underneath of Taylor, her red lips parting as she moans and squirms. “Fuck yeah, baby,” she cooes at him as her hand raises, tangling in the messy black hair. Pulling the hairspray abused strands apart. Taylor switches it up, moving to her other breast and suckling, lapping. Squeezing and kneading on the other.
She can feel his cock as it pokes out from the opening of his boxers. The head leaking precum heavily down her thigh. Fuck, he wants her so bad. Tanya’s never been one for an excess amount of foreplay, but damn does this random bar guy do it so fucking well.
Taylor pulls back, moving himself off of her breasts. Easing himself up on his hands, he stares down at her for a moment. Such a good little whore for the evening. He’s having the time of his life.
Finally, he sits up on his knees. His body is sculpted very well, he’s thin, but his stone is wonderfully toned. A trail of hair down his chest, covering his thighs. Taylor hooks his thumbs into his boxers, moving them down his legs and shaking them onto the floor. Tanya gasps as his cock comes into view.
“Wow…” she muses, seeing the insane amount of precum. Taylor grabs his cock, giving it a few good pumps before leaning back over the mystified woman. He likes that look on her face.
Keeping his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he eases himself down onto his opposite elbow. Her pussy is trimmed up wonderfully, as he presses his head to her entrance he can feel how fucking soaked she is.
Had Tanya been soaked since the bar? His ego would certainly like to think so. Therefore, he holds onto that thought. He got this bitch sopping and dripping long before they ever even reached the motel room.
Without warning, unable to wait any longer, Taylor pushes his cock right into her pussy. Tanya squeals, her hands clapping down on his forearms as his cock penetrates her pussy. She can feel it throb, she can feel it opening her up and she fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Oh fuck that feels so fucking good!”
“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ tight, babe!” Taylor pushes more inside of her, before pulling his hips back and slamming right back into her. Why should he show her mercy? He doesn’t give a shit about her. This is for Mimi, after all.
Tanya continues to moan, Taylor picking up a good pace, slamming his cock in and out of her, their combined fluids leak down the crack of her ass, staining the bed forever with the scent and taste of their little tryst. The scent of sex is starting to linger in the air.
Grabbing Tanya’s wrists, he pins her down to the bed. Sweat is starting to bead on his forehead as he watches her. Looking at the hypnotic way her tits bounce with each thrust. The way her lips move when she moans. The way the veins on her neck bulge. She looks like a fucking goddess right now, a goddess just for him and Mimi to use.
“Gonna cum! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“Yeah? You gonna cum on that cock? Go ahead, baby, come on, cum for me, niiiice and haaard,” he drags out the words with a little bit of an upscale drawl, ending the sentence with a deep growl. Biting his lip and staring at her.
Taylor keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, fucking her hard, fast, making those hypnotic tits jiggle and bounce. Tanya begins to writhe hard underneath of him, her body squirming as her moans and sounds of delight get higher and louder.
“Oooh, there it is, there it is, come on, baby girl,” Taylor keeps speaking, watching as her eyes go wide before rolling back into her head. Those already tense pussy walls clench up around his cock, each thrust requiring a bit more of a shove to get inside. With her insides seizing up around his cock, he has to fight his own orgasm.
A hand moves into her hair as he leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead as Tanya whimpers through her orgasm. “I know, I know, yeah, I know,” each word breathy and almost airy against her forehead. He loves making a bitch cum. More so he likes working them through it, and working them back down.
Once Tanya’s pussy stops convulsing around his cock, Taylor yanks it out. A nice rush of squirt pops out behind of him, making him growl a little bit. “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, huh?” This chick is a fucking babe. He might have to seek her out again sometime.
He grabs her and starts to help her onto all fours, but horizontal on the bed. That way she’s facing where the camera is pointing. An underrated view, according to his Mimi.
“Come on, baby, gimme that dick,” she pleads as Taylor mounts behind her. He gives a nice, firm slap to her right ass cheek, making her squeal in surprise.
Without much warning, Taylor grabs her hips and instantly shoves his cock right back into her hole. Tanya starts moaning again as he starts to fuck her. The way his hips bounce against her ass creating ripples on her skin.
It’s a miracle she doesn’t see the camera, but that’s partially because her eyes keep rolling back into her skull. His cock feels like fucking heaven inside of her, making her entire body shake and tremble. And now with his balls hitting against her clit, she feels like the entire world is going to collapse on top of her. And she fucking welcomes it. Toes curling, legs curling until her calves touch her thighs.
Growling, grunting, panting and sweating. The show Taylor is putting on for the camera is absolutely insane. Yanking Tanya back on his cock at the same time he pushes his hips forward. Fast, hard, deep, powerful thrusts spearing his prick inside of her.
Tanya grabs onto the edge of the mattress, holding her body up as best as she can against the punk rock as fuck lover’s powerful fucking.
He feels so fucking unstoppable. The way her pussy tenses and clenches on his cock every time he pushes in, as if those walls are trying to push him back out. But nothing is going to make him get out of that pussy just yet.
One hand goes to her hair, snaking his fingers into those gorgeous blonde waves until he reaches her scalp. Then, he clenches his fingers up, pulling at her hair and forcing her back to arch even more. That delicious, rippling ass perking up more as her back goes down.
“Oh fuck! That’s a fucking amazing angle!” Tanya cries out, feeling her eyes go wide again. She’s gonna cum, and she wants it so fucking bad. Taylor can tell, too, and he wants her to fucking mess up the bed sheets even more. Fuck, his only thought is to make her cum like a fountain! Such a hot fucking slut, all he wants is to make her lose her mind again. And it has a bit to do with the fact he’s close, too. He can feel his nut building up, his balls tensing. He’s close to being done.
But Tanya gets one more. Otherwise, he failed.
“That’s it, you can do it, cum for me, baby girl. Come on. Give it to me, cum for me,” he clenches on her hair even more, grunting loudly.
Tanya’s eyes roll back into her head again, her body trembling now, knuckles white as she clenches them around the edge of the bed. Everything collapses around her again, and her cunt seizes up and convulses right around Taylor’s cock. As if her body is naturally trying to milk the cum from him, siphon it from his balls.
Finally, as she clenches and gets even more soaked, Taylor can’t hold on anymore. He rag dolls her rigid body, yanking her back over and over again as he pounds four harsh thrusts clap like thunder against her body.
He grunts like a fucking beast as he loses himself. His balls shoot, rope after rope, filling up her pussy, mixing with her own juices and dripping out of her hole as he holds himself inside of her.
The minutes pass, and Taylor finally lets her go. Falling back onto the bed. Luck is on his side even more tonight. Tanya gets up and goes to the bathroom. Once he hears the door lock, he stands up and immediately redresses. He’s quick about grabbing his phone and, after blowing a kiss to end the recording, he makes his way out of the room. Leaving behind nothing but his cum in a confused woman.
Tuesday nights are typically meant to be spent at home. Usually couples are snuggled up in bed, watching television or mindlessly scrolling through TikTok dances and misinformation. But, not these two. For this couple in particular, this is their Friday night.
Not having regular weekends off has never been a big deal. But for Taylor McGinnity, it does tend to make the bar pickings a little slim. While he’s at the bar, killing back shots of Jack Daniels, his lovely girlfriend Mimi Choi is indeed at home. In her pajamas, watching Shameless, and eating Cheetos.
Bars have never been her scene. And it’s much better if he does this on his own. That’s how their makeshift midweek weekend tends to go. Neither of them mind. Especially not Taylor.
It had took him some time to adapt to it. To the dynamic of Mimi enjoying him fucking other women. The first few times, it had felt like an affair. It’s never been in his heart to be unfaithful, no, he genuinely loves Mimi. While he was adapting, she was enjoying it a lot more than he had been. Thankfully, that’s changed now. The adaptation period has worn off.
Some may say Taylor’s haircut belongs more in the seventies than it does in this decade. Long, choppy, bangs, all black, teased with hairspray. If you look at him in the right light, he looks akin to a pre-heroin Keith Richards. That’s what he’s always been told, anyway. Sporting a leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans, he’s been looking around the bar as discretely as possible.
He carries with him the mystique of an era already gone. Which Taylor has found to be something that works in his favor. Women love musicians. Especially musicians in bars. Typically, he wouldn’t drink this much. But the scent of alcohol mixed with his cologne and the light aroma of his shampoo is almost pheromonal. If he wants tonight to be successful, he has to agree on all the help he can get.
The music is flowing from a jukebox, something new and on the borderline of pop-punk. Not his thing, but he isn’t paying too much attention.
Not to the music, anyway.
A lot of this is a social nightmare. But he manages it somehow, having adapted, and knowing who and what he is doing this for. He likes to make Mimi happy. He likes to make her feel good. Plus, what man isn’t content he gets to fuck whoever he wants?
So long as Taylor remembers to record it. He won’t make the mistake of forgetting to set his phone to record ever again. Giving a light chuckle at the memory, the tall looker kills back the last of his Jack Daniels and places the shot glass upside down on the bar top. No more liquid courage for him, he’s got himself under control.
There’s a woman sitting at the end of the bar. The wavy shirt makes way to some long, freshly shaven legs. A delicate tan rests upon her skin. Wearing a tube top, her breasts are snugly held up by some sort of miracle. Billowing hair full of volume and the scent of cherry shampoo rests over her shoulders, a lovely shade of dirty blonde. She’s gorgeous, with French tipped nails and a pair of heels any man would love, pray, hope to be stepped on with. A gorgeous woman with an aura of class, despite her overtly lewd outfit. Tossing back whiskey shots with her friends like it’s nobody’s business.
Fucking delicious, a woman after his own heart.
After dropping a few bills onto the counter for his shots, Taylor stands up from his stool. Standing at his full height, adjusting his leather jacket a bit, he starts his stride. There’s no one already he’s already had. Taylor’s grateful for that as he looks around the bar during his walk. This should be an easy one, plus, she’s blonde.
He and Mimi love some blonde action.
The woman eyes him as he approaches, giving a pearly white smile. He’s tall, he’s hot, and she digs the leather jacket. Taylor returns her smile, licking his lips before sitting down. “Mind if I trade you a drink for your name?”
One hand goes to her thigh, his calloused musician hand on her soft skin. A true contrast. But he’s bold. Being bold and outgoing has gotten him this far.
If he were any other man in this damn bar, she would have slapped the piss out of him. Maybe even yanked out her pepper spray. But instead, she offers her name. “Tanya, and… yes, sure. Jameson?”
“One Jameson, for the lovely Tanya,” Taylor rubs at her thigh even more, letting his callouses lightly massage her skin. The bartender gives a nod, pouring the lovely blonde bombshell another shot of Jameson. He isn’t going to openly judge her about her tastes in alcohol.
But he’ll totally gossip about it with Mimi later on tonight.
Tanya tosses back the shot without so much as a groan. Truly a good match for him tonight. This bar is a goldmine. He keeps rubbing her thigh, pressing his luck, moving his hand higher and higher, under her skirt. When he finds she isn’t wearing any panties, his heart skips quite the fucking beat.
“Someone’s eager,” Tanya remarks as she leans a bit closer to Taylor.
“You’re the one not wearing any undies, Blondie.” Taylor knows what he came here for. And now he knows exactly what Tanya the Jameson lover is here for. The same thing.
They both wanna fuck like rabbits.
And, well, Taylor wants to record it. But she doesn’t exactly have to know that.
Tanya giggles, her breath smells of booze and cigarettes. And he fucking loves it, the way their tastes and scents will linger together makes him want to tremble and shiver at the mere thought. She’s a fucking beauty. Making his cock press up against his boxers, his jeans, quite a bit hard. It’s a discomfort every man knows about all too well.
Taylor leans over now, his hand finally leaving her thigh to slowly trail the very tips of his digits against her flesh as he moves her hair out of the way. Leaning in deeper, his breath hits the lovely blonde’s ear. A rather sudden outbreak of goosebumps appear on her skin.
But he’s still going lower, lower, down to her neck. The tender, supple flesh is purely irresistible to his natural pout, his lips gently pressing against her pulse point. A purr leaves his lips as his other hand moves to the other side of her face, an almost caring hold to have her in.
Taylor doesn’t actually care. He just wants to fuck her guts out and record it. Clearly a man of simple pleasures.
Carefully, his face pulls up, lips back against her ear. Every word placing a soft kiss to her lobe. “Would you like to get out of here with me?”
Tanya’s breathing becomes apparent to her, having to focus on every inhale and exhale to keep herself from moaning too much. Or too loudly. Because this shit is driving her absolutely fucking wild.
“I’ll call us an Uber,” she finally manages to respond. Good thing she offered the Uber, he’s left his phone at the motel room. Ready to record.
It’s a whirlwind of clothes coming off when they finally make it to the motel room. Taylor only had a moment to set his phone to record. It rests on a mini tripod behind the curtain, on top of the air conditioner. Which he was smart enough to turn off. Nothing ruins a video like a loud HVAC system. Only the camera is exposed, yet not obvious.
Taylor’s jacket is on the floor now, with his jeans, with her skirt, and now with her tube top. Her breasts are immaculate, he pushes her onto the bed and crawls right on top of her. One hand goes to each breast, gently squeezing while easing his head down.
Tanya lets out a loud squeal as Taylor wraps his lips around her right nipple. His tongue swirls around the swollen nub, his mouth creating a gentle suction. As he laps and suckles upon one breast, his hand teases the other. Squeezing, kneading, pinching at her nipple contently.
She tastes so fucking good, and knowing it’s all being record, it feels amazing. He can’t wait to watch it with Mimi.
Tanya writhes underneath of Taylor, her red lips parting as she moans and squirms. “Fuck yeah, baby,” she cooes at him as her hand raises, tangling in the messy black hair. Pulling the hairspray abused strands apart. Taylor switches it up, moving to her other breast and suckling, lapping. Squeezing and kneading on the other.
She can feel his cock as it pokes out from the opening of his boxers. The head leaking precum heavily down her thigh. Fuck, he wants her so bad. Tanya’s never been one for an excess amount of foreplay, but damn does this random bar guy do it so fucking well.
Taylor pulls back, moving himself off of her breasts. Easing himself up on his hands, he stares down at her for a moment. Such a good little whore for the evening. He’s having the time of his life.
Finally, he sits up on his knees. His body is sculpted very well, he’s thin, but his stone is wonderfully toned. A trail of hair down his chest, covering his thighs. Taylor hooks his thumbs into his boxers, moving them down his legs and shaking them onto the floor. Tanya gasps as his cock comes into view.
“Wow…” she muses, seeing the insane amount of precum. Taylor grabs his cock, giving it a few good pumps before leaning back over the mystified woman. He likes that look on her face.
Keeping his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he eases himself down onto his opposite elbow. Her pussy is trimmed up wonderfully, as he presses his head to her entrance he can feel how fucking soaked she is.
Had Tanya been soaked since the bar? His ego would certainly like to think so. Therefore, he holds onto that thought. He got this bitch sopping and dripping long before they ever even reached the motel room.
Without warning, unable to wait any longer, Taylor pushes his cock right into her pussy. Tanya squeals, her hands clapping down on his forearms as his cock penetrates her pussy. She can feel it throb, she can feel it opening her up and she fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Oh fuck that feels so fucking good!”
“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ tight, babe!” Taylor pushes more inside of her, before pulling his hips back and slamming right back into her. Why should he show her mercy? He doesn’t give a shit about her. This is for Mimi, after all.
Tanya continues to moan, Taylor picking up a good pace, slamming his cock in and out of her, their combined fluids leak down the crack of her ass, staining the bed forever with the scent and taste of their little tryst. The scent of sex is starting to linger in the air.
Grabbing Tanya’s wrists, he pins her down to the bed. Sweat is starting to bead on his forehead as he watches her. Looking at the hypnotic way her tits bounce with each thrust. The way her lips move when she moans. The way the veins on her neck bulge. She looks like a fucking goddess right now, a goddess just for him and Mimi to use.
“Gonna cum! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“Yeah? You gonna cum on that cock? Go ahead, baby, come on, cum for me, niiiice and haaard,” he drags out the words with a little bit of an upscale drawl, ending the sentence with a deep growl. Biting his lip and staring at her.
Taylor keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, fucking her hard, fast, making those hypnotic tits jiggle and bounce. Tanya begins to writhe hard underneath of him, her body squirming as her moans and sounds of delight get higher and louder.
“Oooh, there it is, there it is, come on, baby girl,” Taylor keeps speaking, watching as her eyes go wide before rolling back into her head. Those already tense pussy walls clench up around his cock, each thrust requiring a bit more of a shove to get inside. With her insides seizing up around his cock, he has to fight his own orgasm.
A hand moves into her hair as he leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead as Tanya whimpers through her orgasm. “I know, I know, yeah, I know,” each word breathy and almost airy against her forehead. He loves making a bitch cum. More so he likes working them through it, and working them back down.
Once Tanya’s pussy stops convulsing around his cock, Taylor yanks it out. A nice rush of squirt pops out behind of him, making him growl a little bit. “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, huh?” This chick is a fucking babe. He might have to seek her out again sometime.
He grabs her and starts to help her onto all fours, but horizontal on the bed. That way she’s facing where the camera is pointing. An underrated view, according to his Mimi.
“Come on, baby, gimme that dick,” she pleads as Taylor mounts behind her. He gives a nice, firm slap to her right ass cheek, making her squeal in surprise.
Without much warning, Taylor grabs her hips and instantly shoves his cock right back into her hole. Tanya starts moaning again as he starts to fuck her. The way his hips bounce against her ass creating ripples on her skin.
It’s a miracle she doesn’t see the camera, but that’s partially because her eyes keep rolling back into her skull. His cock feels like fucking heaven inside of her, making her entire body shake and tremble. And now with his balls hitting against her clit, she feels like the entire world is going to collapse on top of her. And she fucking welcomes it. Toes curling, legs curling until her calves touch her thighs.
Growling, grunting, panting and sweating. The show Taylor is putting on for the camera is absolutely insane. Yanking Tanya back on his cock at the same time he pushes his hips forward. Fast, hard, deep, powerful thrusts spearing his prick inside of her.
Tanya grabs onto the edge of the mattress, holding her body up as best as she can against the punk rock as fuck lover’s powerful fucking.
He feels so fucking unstoppable. The way her pussy tenses and clenches on his cock every time he pushes in, as if those walls are trying to push him back out. But nothing is going to make him get out of that pussy just yet.
One hand goes to her hair, snaking his fingers into those gorgeous blonde waves until he reaches her scalp. Then, he clenches his fingers up, pulling at her hair and forcing her back to arch even more. That delicious, rippling ass perking up more as her back goes down.
“Oh fuck! That’s a fucking amazing angle!” Tanya cries out, feeling her eyes go wide again. She’s gonna cum, and she wants it so fucking bad. Taylor can tell, too, and he wants her to fucking mess up the bed sheets even more. Fuck, his only thought is to make her cum like a fountain! Such a hot fucking slut, all he wants is to make her lose her mind again. And it has a bit to do with the fact he’s close, too. He can feel his nut building up, his balls tensing. He’s close to being done.
But Tanya gets one more. Otherwise, he failed.
“That’s it, you can do it, cum for me, baby girl. Come on. Give it to me, cum for me,” he clenches on her hair even more, grunting loudly.
Tanya’s eyes roll back into her head again, her body trembling now, knuckles white as she clenches them around the edge of the bed. Everything collapses around her again, and her cunt seizes up and convulses right around Taylor’s cock. As if her body is naturally trying to milk the cum from him, siphon it from his balls.
Finally, as she clenches and gets even more soaked, Taylor can’t hold on anymore. He rag dolls her rigid body, yanking her back over and over again as he pounds four harsh thrusts clap like thunder against her body.
He grunts like a fucking beast as he loses himself. His balls shoot, rope after rope, filling up her pussy, mixing with her own juices and dripping out of her hole as he holds himself inside of her.
The minutes pass, and Taylor finally lets her go. Falling back onto the bed. Luck is on his side even more tonight. Tanya gets up and goes to the bathroom. Once he hears the door lock, he stands up and immediately redresses. He’s quick about grabbing his phone and, after blowing a kiss to end the recording, he makes his way out of the room. Leaving behind nothing but his cum in a confused woman.
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A lowly member of a SWAT team ends up caring for a former sex slave.
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
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In a distant future, women are trained to be sex slaves and bought by wealthy men through Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. Follow the tale of Rinata, and her first experience with her husband, the man that paid for her and left her clear rules for his expectations.
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
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It's not easy to bargain with demons, which Eddie discovers the hard way after he escapes death by trading his soul to the demon Azir, a handsome and charming resident of Hell. Azir promises to return Eddie's soul in exchange for allowing demons the use of his body for their own amusement. It's the last deal he wants to make, but if he wants to save his soul, it may be his only choice.
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. “All you have to do is take my hand and give me your soul.”
My eyes widened, a shiver of terror racing through my body. The only creatures who collected souls were demons.
He smiled, warm and charming. “Relax, Eddie, I won’t take your soul as long as you’re using it. Think of this like a lien. You keep your soul until you die, and then it comes to us, assuming you haven’t earned it back, of course. What do you say? Better think quick—time is running out.”
I could feel the blood pooling in my chest, restricting my heart and filling my lungs. I didn’t want to die, but losing my soul to a demon would be worse. However, if there was a chance to earn it back, then I could have it both ways. I could live and keep my soul.
Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in my broken body, I raised my hand, a scream of agony escaping my bloody lips as the splinters of bone protruding through my flesh shifted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the demon said, grabbing my hand. Instantly, the pain vanished and I gasped as he pulled my to my feet. I looked down at myself in shock. The blood was gone. No bones were broken. It was like I’d never been hit. I turned to look at the car that had struck me, the hood crumpled where it had come to rest against a tree, steam issuing from the engine. I could see the driver, face down in the deflated airbag and not moving.
“Are they all right?” I asked, taking an unsteady step toward the car.
“Eddie,” the demon said, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away. “That guy nearly killed you. Who cares how he’s doing?”
I shrugged his arm off. “I do.”
The demon sighed. “Of course you do. He’ll be fine. A bit of a concussion and some bruised ribs. Oh, and one hell of a hangover. He’s more than a little drunk. Does that affect your concern for his well-being?”
I hesitated. “Maybe a little.”
“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hang on,” I said as he turned to leave. “You said I could earn my soul back. How do I do that?”
“Why should I tell you?” he replied. “If you don’t succeed, we get your soul, so how is it in my best interest to help you?”
He had me there. I could only watch, helpless, as he walked away. He only took a few steps, though, before he paused and glanced back, his flickering gaze traveling slowly down my body.
“You’re a handsome guy,” he said, making me shudder and wonder, how far would I go to save my soul? However, his next question surprised me. “How do you feel about demonic possession?”
“Excuse me? Is there more than one way to feel about demonic possession?”
My savior laughed, a rich, melodious sound. “Let me rephrase. What do you know about it?”
I shrugged. “The usual, I guess. A demon takes over a person and makes them do terrible things, with the intent to steal their soul.”
He made an ambiguous gesture with his hand. “Close enough.” Up the street, a siren screamed to life, the night lighting up with red and blue lights as an ambulance finally appeared. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we have to answer a lot of tedious questions.”
I felt awkward leaving the scene of an accident, but I supposed he was right. If I stayed, I would only have to lie, or risk being tossed into the psych ward. After all, only crazy people claimed to have been saved from death by a demon. We hurried down the street and around a corner.
“Okay, here’s the quick and dirty version,” the demon said. “True possessions are very rare, because there are few demons powerful enough to inhabit an unwilling human. I’m not, and I’m a third tier demon, so you get the idea. So, most ‘possessions’ are either lunatics or sociopaths working on their insanity defense. However, even a lowly sixth tier imp can inhabit a willing body temporarily. The hard part is finding someone willing to share.”
He gave me a pointed look and I stopped dead as I realized what he was hinting at.
“Wait, I’m supposed let you possess me?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re going to let a bunch of my demon lackeys possess you. You see,” he continued as I stared at him in horror, “when a demon takes corporeal form, the experience is severely limited. We can see and hear, and have the most basic sense of touch, but no smell or taste, and we don’t feel pleasure or pain. And the worst part is this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down to mid-thigh.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of his smooth, featureless groin. He had no cock, no balls, nothing.
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected this was His doing,” the demon grumbled, pulling his pants back up. “So, Eddie, I’m sure you imagine how appealing it would be for one of us to take a joyride in a sexy hot rod like you. I’d like to offer the use of your body to a few of my most dedicated underlings. Perhaps it will even motivate the slackers to do better.”
“The use of my...to do what with?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Eat pizza and ice cream, get a massage, have sex. Nothing illegal, nothing that will harm you or anyone else. I’ll only offer this privilege to responsible demons, ones that I know will follow my rules.”
“So...so, I just...let them in and then wake up in a couple of days in bed with someone I’ve never met before?”
“Wow, you are so quick to think the worst of us,” the demon said, shaking his head. “You would be completely aware of everything that was happening. You could tune it out, of course, if you wanted to. And you could take back control at any time. However, booting one of my demons after less than...let’s say two hours, won’t count toward erasing our claim on your soul.”
“So, if I agree to this, I get my soul back?” I asked. The demon nodded. “How many is a few?”
“Oh, just a hundred or so,” he said. I started to shake my head, to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it this way—two hours a day, and in less than four months, your soul will be yours again, free and clear. It seems like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your body they’ll be abusing,” I grumbled.
“Very true,” the demon said. “But then, I don’t have a body, just this worthless rental unit, so...” He stopped walking and regarded me with his flickering eyes. “Say, how about a quick test drive? That way, you can see what it would be like before you decide.”
I hesitated. “Who would I be letting in? You?”
“Sure. Why not? I did save your life, after all.”
This was such a bad idea. “Okay, but not here. I want to be home for this.”
The demon smiled and gestured behind me. I turned, surprised to see that we were standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I hadn’t even noticed where we were walking.
“Shall we?” the demon asked, motioning for me to lead the way.
I swallowed hard. “First, I need to know one thing. What’s your name?”
The demon narrowed his eyes. “Why? Do you think you can control me if you know my name?”
“No, I’d just like to know what to call you,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Sort of,” he replied evasively. “A sufficiently powerful witch who has trained extensively in the dark arts and demonology could use a demon’s name to control them, so we tend to be a little careful with such information.”
“Understandable, I guess,” I said, shivering as a gust of wind bit through my thin jacket. I headed for the house, digging my keys out of my pocket as I climbed the steps up to the porch. “I’m not a witch, nor do I know any witches, but if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I’d like to call you something, though. Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” I stopped to unlock my front door.
He snorted, and I realized just how close he was, standing right behind me. “You really don’t know anything about demons, do you? I don’t have any friends. But if you insist, you can call me...Azir.”
“Azir will work,” I said, shoving open the door and hurrying inside to put a bit of distance between us. He followed, shutting the door and turning on the entryway light. “So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“Maybe in a minute, once I’m able to taste it,” Azir said, backing me up against the wall. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as the demon’s hands pressed against my chest, his face inches from my own. He smiled, slow and amused. “This is a lot like sex, Eddie—you have to relax and let me in.” Azir leaned closer, his breath cold against my cheek as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him. Part of me was screaming that he was a fucking demon, of course he couldn’t be trusted, but for some reason, I seemed to remember hearing that demons couldn’t lie. They could trick and deceive, but they could not tell an outright lie. Or maybe that was just something I saw on television. Either way, I had only two choices, and neither one appealed.
I could tell him to get lost, and spend the rest of my life knowing that my soul was doomed to hell, or I could surrender and let him have me. After a moment, I took a bracing breath and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I made myself relax, trying to trust that, even if a demon couldn’t be trusted, at the very least he wouldn’t do anything to make me call off the deal.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by a warm pressure in my chest, like I had swallowed hot soup too fast. As it passed, my eyes opened and I was surprised to find Azir gone. I started to look around, to see where he had gone, but my head wouldn’t turn. I tried to raise my arm, but it wouldn’t move. I was no longer in control of my body.
My body gasped and my hands rose up to touch my face, fingers tracing my lips and sliding back through my hair.
“Oh, this is amazing,” Azir said in my voice, my lips moving without without my consent. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. He stepped away from the wall, my hands wandering down my body, feeling the texture of my jacket. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind him. I wanted to pick it up and hang it in the closet, but he walked away, wandering through the house just touching stuff. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“You must live alone,” he murmured, picking up a bottle of ketchup and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. He opened the ketchup and sniffed the contents, then licked the inside of the lid. He made an appreciative noise and set it down, then unwrapped the cheese and nibbled on the corner.
There’s beer in the crisper drawer, I thought to myself.
“Really? Thanks,” Azir said, setting the cheese down and opening the drawer.
Wait, you can hear me? I asked.
“Hear might not be the right word,” he replied, picking up a bottle of my favorite IPA and twisting off the cap. “I know what you’re thinking, the same way you do. It’s kind of weird.” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhhh, I’ve always wondered what beer tasted like. Now I know.” He set the bottle on the counter and headed out of the room.
So, are you just going to make a mess of my house? I asked. That’s not what I expected from a demonic possession.
“Would you rather I find some virgin to disembowel?” Azir asked with a grin as he started up the stairs.
No! Of course not, I said. I guess I just thought you’d do more.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” the demon said. He entered my bedroom and pawed through my closet, smelling the fabric softener and rubbing his cheek against one of my softer shirts. His gaze lingered on the bed, but he walked into the adjoining bathroom instead, tasting the toothpaste and mouthwash. “Mmmm, that’s better than the beer,” he said and took another sip.
You’re supposed to spit that out, I told him. Don’t go making me sick.
He grunted his displeasure, but leaned over the sink and spat out the mouthwash. He sniffed my deodorant and aftershave, and then opened the door of the shower stall.
Nothing in here is edible, I said, hoping to prevent him from tasting the soap. He just turned on the water, letting the spray patter against my hand as he adjusted the temperature. Stepping back from the stall, he began to remove my clothes. What are you doing?
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Azir said, my voice muffled as he stripped my shirt off over my head. Steam began to fill the room and I cringed inwardly, imagining the black mold beginning to grow in the corners.
Could you at least turn on the exhaust fan? I asked. He obliged, flipping the switch before shoving my jeans and boxers down around my ankles and stepping out of them. Nude, he admired my reflection in the mirror. It was bizarre: even though it was my body, my face, I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
The demon dressed in my flesh stepped into the shower, groaning low and long as the hot water cascaded over my skin.
“Azrael was right,” he said, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “This is positively sinful.” He turned a slow circle, savoring the pounding spray, and I realized with no small amount of horror that my body was reacting to his enjoyment. I was getting a hard-on.
Okay, test drive is over, get outta my body, I said.
“Make me,” he moaned, running slippery hands down my smooth, flat abs, toward my stiffening cock. That’s when I knew he had tricked me. I had forgotten to ask how to get him out.
Begone, demon! I thought forcefully, imagining myself physically shoving him out of my body. He just laughed.
“That tickles,” he said. “So does this.” He faced the shower, letting the spray dance over my hard cock. “What a surprisingly sensitive organ,” he said, wrapping a hand around my shaft and giving it a long, slow stroke. I felt so dirty, so violated.
Stop it, please, I begged him. I never agreed to let you use my body for this.
“Did you really think all I was going to do was taste your food and sniff your deodorant?” he asked. “This is part of the deal and you better get used to the idea. Now just relax and enjoy the ride, and don’t pretend like you’ve never done this before.”
It’s different when I do it, I responded, my thought-voice small and defeated. What had I done? I was at the mercy of a being of pure evil, trapped inside my own body until God only knew when. What if he never gave it back? Was this his plan all along?
“Your fussing in there is very distracting,” Azir said. “I told you to relax. When I’m done, you can have your body back, don’t worry. And by the way, that whole mental push-thing you did, that would have kicked a lesser demon clear to the curb. I just happen to be strong enough to resist. Not strong enough to come in uninvited, but once I’m in...Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” He began to stroke my cock faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
I wanted to tune this out, but I had forgotten to ask how to do that, either. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave him alone with my body. I could feel the pleasure gathering in my groin, hot and heavy, my breath coming faster as he neared climax. At least it would be over soon.
Azir gasped, grunting as my muscles tightened, my balls drawing up as I dumped my load. He staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Wow, I had no idea,” he panted. He rinsed the cum from my skin, then shut off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, he grabbed a towel off the shelf in the corner and began to dry my body.
Satisfied now? I asked. Can I have my body back?
“I said when I’m done,” Azir replied, dropping the damp towel on the floor with my discarded clothes. He walked into the bedroom stark naked, the air raising goosebumps on my wet skin. “I don’t suppose you have any toys in here?”
Absolutely not! I said, but if I’d had control of my body, my gaze would have darted to the nightstand beside the bed. I guess Azir could feel it, because he made a beeline for the little drawer. That’s not mine, I said as he pulled out the drawer.
He chuckled as he picked up the slender, bright blue, cock-shaped vibrator. “I suppose the previous tenant left this behind and you just couldn’t throw it out in case they came back for it. Look, how thoughtful. They left some lube behind, too.”
My girlfriend bought those, I said.
“Aww, were you really that bad in bed, that she needed battery-operated assistance?”
No, she wanted to use it on me, I snapped. I said no and she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. We had a fight and I called her a twisted pervert and she left. That was six months ago. Okay, maybe I had over-reacted to her request, but she was just too aggressive. I had never even thought about doing something like that, and I needed time to get used to the idea. Would I have come around eventually? I don’t know. I kept the stuff, didn’t I? Even though I never touched it after she called me a prude and walked out.
“Boy, oh boy, my night just keeps getting better,” Azir said, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and flopping down across my bed. He stretched and writhed, rubbing my bare skin against the cool, soft comforter. “I don’t know which I like more, your sense of taste, or your sense of touch. There’s something so sensual about all this tactile stimulation.”
I hadn’t really thought about what he’d told me before, about how a demon’s senses were muted or absent, but his obvious enjoyment of something as simple as rubbing against a blanket made me consider what an empty existence it must be. No scent, no flavor, no pleasure. Considering that, I could hardly blame him for masturbating a little. Or a lot, for that matter. He could have been doing things a whole lot worse.
Go ahead, I thought with a sigh. I won’t pretend to like it, but I also won’t complain.
“Really?” Azir said, going still as he raised my head.
Yeah, just...just don’t hurt me, okay? As soon as I thought the words, I wished I could take it back. Admitting my weakness and fear to a demon was probably the dumbest thing I could have done in that situation. But again, Azir surprised me.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, and I was again left to wonder if demons were capable of lying. He sat up, leaning back against my padded headboard, my knees bent and legs spread. That alone would have been enough to make me blush. I wasn’t a prude, but I was certainly more modest than that.
The crinkle of plastic filled the silent bedroom as Azir removed the seal from the bottle of lubricant. I watched nervously as he drizzled the thick, clear gel onto my fingers. He reached down between my legs and began to smear the gel between my cheeks, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he rubbed a small circle around my opening. I will admit, it felt better than I had expected.
Azir took his time preparing me, though I didn’t know if that was for his benefit, or mine. I supposed it didn’t matter. He added more lube to his fingers and slipped two of them inside of me, spreading the gel and stretching that tight ring of muscle. That felt good, too, although I did my best to hide that fact from him.
Finally, he slathered the blue silicone surface of the vibrator with lube until it was slick and shiny, stroking it like a real cock as the fat, rubber balls at the base jiggled. My own cock was hard again, but Azir ignored it, reaching down behind my balls instead and guiding the tip of the vibrator to my opening.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, heels digging into the bed as he pushed back against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, yes.” I couldn’t believe how easily that rubber cock slid into my asshole, my muscles gripping, pulling it deeper. It was a strange feeling, but nothing like I had expected. Azir eased it in about halfway before stopping to let us catch our breath.
That’s deep enough, right? I asked. He didn’t answer. Right?
“Tell me, Eddie,” he said, breathless, “if you had just one night to live, would you only go halfway?” I had no answer for him. I suppose after experiencing the full range of human senses, the thought of returning to his demonic existence must have been like facing death. Was I crazy, feeling pity for a damned demon?
After giving my body a minute to relax and adjust, Azir slid the vibrator in to the hilt, the soft, silicone balls squishing against my ass. I felt full in a way I had never imagined, that rubber cock snug inside of me, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal. Not until Azir turned on the vibrator.
He gasped, my body arching, as the cock began to buzz inside of us. “Oh, shit...Oh, fuck...” he panted, rocking my hips until he found just the right angle. The vibrator pressed against my prostate and I saw stars, my cock jerking as it grew rock hard. I had never felt anything so wonderful, so intensely pleasurable, the vibrations filling me with a deep, aching need to cum. If it had been me, I would have immediately jerked off, but Azir had other ideas.
Reaching up above my head, he grabbed onto the headboard, breath hissing between my teeth as he pressed down into the bed to keep the vibrator in place deep inside of me. My cock quivered, beads of precum leaking from the tip, tickling my sensitive flesh it trickled down the head, and I suddenly realized just how helpless I had let myself become. I couldn’t even stroke my own cock. I was completely at the mercy of this horny demon...and I had never felt more alive.
Oh, Azir, please… I begged, the pleasure nearly unbearable as my neglected cock throbbed with need. Just a single stoke would have finished me, but he dug my fingers into the headboard until my hands ached, my room echoing with his breathless cries.
“Almost...almost there...Come on...” he panted, my whole body shaking. I wanted to cum so bad I even tried shoving him out of me again. It didn’t do anything, except make him laugh. “Nice try. You almost got me with that one. Just hang on a little more. Oh...Oh, fuck, yes!”
I cried out with him as the climax thundered through us, my muscles contracting, drawing the vibrator deeper as my balls drew up. My cock jerked like a puppet on a string as we striped my comforter with long, satisfying strands of cum. I can honestly say it was the best orgasm of my life, up to that point. When it was finally over, the vibrations against my prostate became truly unbearable, even for him, and he quickly turned it off and gently slid it out.
Exhausted and trembling, he slouched against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked after a minute. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. He sighed. “All right, just like I promised, you can have your body back now.” I thought that might be an invitation to help him along, but before I could even try, I felt that dizziness again. I reached up and touched my head, then jerked my hand back and stared at it. I wiggled my fingers, relieved when they moved at my command.
Azir chuckled and I glanced beside me, where he lay stretched out on my bed, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. I was still stark naked, of course, and I felt the heat rush to my face. Trying to salvage some scrap of my dignity, I got up and walked to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of boxers to put on, but I could feel the lube between my cheeks. I needed a shower. Maybe several showers.
“Well?” Azir asked as I headed for the bathroom. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I do need an answer. Which will it be, your body or your soul?”
I busied myself with picking up the discarded clothes from the floor while I tried to come up with a third option, but there wasn’t one. I was well and truly fucked. I heard a noise and glanced up to find Azir standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me, a smug, sort of wistful smile on his face.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was just thinking,” he said, giving his head a slow shake. “I’m almost six thousand years old, and I can honestly say that this was the best night of my existence. Thank you, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I grumbled grudgingly, but in a strange way, that was gratifying to hear. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining. “Do you promise that they won’t hurt me, or use me to hurt anyone else?”
“You have my word,” Azir said.
“And no more than one demon a day? I have a life, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with a slight smirk, as if he didn’t believe me. “Don’t worry, we can work around your busy schedule. Any other concerns?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do we have a deal?” There was a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as Azir held out his hand to me. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t lose my soul. Of the two, this was the better option. I hoped.
“Yeah, it’s a deal,” I said, shaking his hand. A rumble like thunder filled the room, accompanied by a flash of darkness, like the light suddenly dimmed, and I felt a sharp, hot pain in the palm of my hand. I jerked away from Azir as the smell of sulfur tainted the air. “What did you do?”
“It’s just a demon’s mark,” he said with a careless wave of his hand.
I looked down at my palm, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of a glowing pentagram flickering like a live coal beneath my skin. “This wasn’t part of the deal! How am I going to explain this?”
“Relax, would you?” Azir said. “Regular humans won’t be able to see it. It’s only detectable to demons and those touched by the dark arts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it for?”
“It’s proof of my claim on you,” Azir said, holding up a hand to forestall my next outraged protest, “and before you blow a gasket, it’s temporary. As soon as you pay your debt, it will disappear. But until then, it will serve as a warning to others that you belong to me.”
“I do not belong to you,” I said, my voice low. Azir just smiled, a flash of teeth that was both charming and sinister. Before I could say anything else, a column of fire surged up from the floor, engulfing Azir. It only lasted a moment, and when it disappeared, so did he.
Alone, I was suddenly hit by the magnitude of what I had done. I made a deal with a demon! I was damned, my soul destined for Hell unless I managed to earn it back, but doing so would probably corrupt me beyond redemption, anyway. I was completely fucked.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, closing my eyes, “what have I done?”
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?” The voice was soft and smooth, neither masculine nor feminine, and I looked up to find a person of indeterminate gender standing in the doorway. They had glossy black hair that fell in loose curls to their collar and pale blue eyes that were almost colorless. They wore long, flowing white robes under shiny silver and gold chain mail, with Roman-looking sandals on their feet. However, it was the iridescent glow and the giant white wings behind their back that nearly made my heart stop.
The angel gave me a reproachful look. “You are in a world of trouble, Edward.”
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. “All you have to do is take my hand and give me your soul.”
My eyes widened, a shiver of terror racing through my body. The only creatures who collected souls were demons.
He smiled, warm and charming. “Relax, Eddie, I won’t take your soul as long as you’re using it. Think of this like a lien. You keep your soul until you die, and then it comes to us, assuming you haven’t earned it back, of course. What do you say? Better think quick—time is running out.”
I could feel the blood pooling in my chest, restricting my heart and filling my lungs. I didn’t want to die, but losing my soul to a demon would be worse. However, if there was a chance to earn it back, then I could have it both ways. I could live and keep my soul.
Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in my broken body, I raised my hand, a scream of agony escaping my bloody lips as the splinters of bone protruding through my flesh shifted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the demon said, grabbing my hand. Instantly, the pain vanished and I gasped as he pulled my to my feet. I looked down at myself in shock. The blood was gone. No bones were broken. It was like I’d never been hit. I turned to look at the car that had struck me, the hood crumpled where it had come to rest against a tree, steam issuing from the engine. I could see the driver, face down in the deflated airbag and not moving.
“Are they all right?” I asked, taking an unsteady step toward the car.
“Eddie,” the demon said, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away. “That guy nearly killed you. Who cares how he’s doing?”
I shrugged his arm off. “I do.”
The demon sighed. “Of course you do. He’ll be fine. A bit of a concussion and some bruised ribs. Oh, and one hell of a hangover. He’s more than a little drunk. Does that affect your concern for his well-being?”
I hesitated. “Maybe a little.”
“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hang on,” I said as he turned to leave. “You said I could earn my soul back. How do I do that?”
“Why should I tell you?” he replied. “If you don’t succeed, we get your soul, so how is it in my best interest to help you?”
He had me there. I could only watch, helpless, as he walked away. He only took a few steps, though, before he paused and glanced back, his flickering gaze traveling slowly down my body.
“You’re a handsome guy,” he said, making me shudder and wonder, how far would I go to save my soul? However, his next question surprised me. “How do you feel about demonic possession?”
“Excuse me? Is there more than one way to feel about demonic possession?”
My savior laughed, a rich, melodious sound. “Let me rephrase. What do you know about it?”
I shrugged. “The usual, I guess. A demon takes over a person and makes them do terrible things, with the intent to steal their soul.”
He made an ambiguous gesture with his hand. “Close enough.” Up the street, a siren screamed to life, the night lighting up with red and blue lights as an ambulance finally appeared. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we have to answer a lot of tedious questions.”
I felt awkward leaving the scene of an accident, but I supposed he was right. If I stayed, I would only have to lie, or risk being tossed into the psych ward. After all, only crazy people claimed to have been saved from death by a demon. We hurried down the street and around a corner.
“Okay, here’s the quick and dirty version,” the demon said. “True possessions are very rare, because there are few demons powerful enough to inhabit an unwilling human. I’m not, and I’m a third tier demon, so you get the idea. So, most ‘possessions’ are either lunatics or sociopaths working on their insanity defense. However, even a lowly sixth tier imp can inhabit a willing body temporarily. The hard part is finding someone willing to share.”
He gave me a pointed look and I stopped dead as I realized what he was hinting at.
“Wait, I’m supposed let you possess me?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re going to let a bunch of my demon lackeys possess you. You see,” he continued as I stared at him in horror, “when a demon takes corporeal form, the experience is severely limited. We can see and hear, and have the most basic sense of touch, but no smell or taste, and we don’t feel pleasure or pain. And the worst part is this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down to mid-thigh.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of his smooth, featureless groin. He had no cock, no balls, nothing.
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected this was His doing,” the demon grumbled, pulling his pants back up. “So, Eddie, I’m sure you imagine how appealing it would be for one of us to take a joyride in a sexy hot rod like you. I’d like to offer the use of your body to a few of my most dedicated underlings. Perhaps it will even motivate the slackers to do better.”
“The use of my...to do what with?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Eat pizza and ice cream, get a massage, have sex. Nothing illegal, nothing that will harm you or anyone else. I’ll only offer this privilege to responsible demons, ones that I know will follow my rules.”
“So...so, I just...let them in and then wake up in a couple of days in bed with someone I’ve never met before?”
“Wow, you are so quick to think the worst of us,” the demon said, shaking his head. “You would be completely aware of everything that was happening. You could tune it out, of course, if you wanted to. And you could take back control at any time. However, booting one of my demons after less than...let’s say two hours, won’t count toward erasing our claim on your soul.”
“So, if I agree to this, I get my soul back?” I asked. The demon nodded. “How many is a few?”
“Oh, just a hundred or so,” he said. I started to shake my head, to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it this way—two hours a day, and in less than four months, your soul will be yours again, free and clear. It seems like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your body they’ll be abusing,” I grumbled.
“Very true,” the demon said. “But then, I don’t have a body, just this worthless rental unit, so...” He stopped walking and regarded me with his flickering eyes. “Say, how about a quick test drive? That way, you can see what it would be like before you decide.”
I hesitated. “Who would I be letting in? You?”
“Sure. Why not? I did save your life, after all.”
This was such a bad idea. “Okay, but not here. I want to be home for this.”
The demon smiled and gestured behind me. I turned, surprised to see that we were standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I hadn’t even noticed where we were walking.
“Shall we?” the demon asked, motioning for me to lead the way.
I swallowed hard. “First, I need to know one thing. What’s your name?”
The demon narrowed his eyes. “Why? Do you think you can control me if you know my name?”
“No, I’d just like to know what to call you,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Sort of,” he replied evasively. “A sufficiently powerful witch who has trained extensively in the dark arts and demonology could use a demon’s name to control them, so we tend to be a little careful with such information.”
“Understandable, I guess,” I said, shivering as a gust of wind bit through my thin jacket. I headed for the house, digging my keys out of my pocket as I climbed the steps up to the porch. “I’m not a witch, nor do I know any witches, but if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I’d like to call you something, though. Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” I stopped to unlock my front door.
He snorted, and I realized just how close he was, standing right behind me. “You really don’t know anything about demons, do you? I don’t have any friends. But if you insist, you can call me...Azir.”
“Azir will work,” I said, shoving open the door and hurrying inside to put a bit of distance between us. He followed, shutting the door and turning on the entryway light. “So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“Maybe in a minute, once I’m able to taste it,” Azir said, backing me up against the wall. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as the demon’s hands pressed against my chest, his face inches from my own. He smiled, slow and amused. “This is a lot like sex, Eddie—you have to relax and let me in.” Azir leaned closer, his breath cold against my cheek as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him. Part of me was screaming that he was a fucking demon, of course he couldn’t be trusted, but for some reason, I seemed to remember hearing that demons couldn’t lie. They could trick and deceive, but they could not tell an outright lie. Or maybe that was just something I saw on television. Either way, I had only two choices, and neither one appealed.
I could tell him to get lost, and spend the rest of my life knowing that my soul was doomed to hell, or I could surrender and let him have me. After a moment, I took a bracing breath and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I made myself relax, trying to trust that, even if a demon couldn’t be trusted, at the very least he wouldn’t do anything to make me call off the deal.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by a warm pressure in my chest, like I had swallowed hot soup too fast. As it passed, my eyes opened and I was surprised to find Azir gone. I started to look around, to see where he had gone, but my head wouldn’t turn. I tried to raise my arm, but it wouldn’t move. I was no longer in control of my body.
My body gasped and my hands rose up to touch my face, fingers tracing my lips and sliding back through my hair.
“Oh, this is amazing,” Azir said in my voice, my lips moving without without my consent. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. He stepped away from the wall, my hands wandering down my body, feeling the texture of my jacket. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind him. I wanted to pick it up and hang it in the closet, but he walked away, wandering through the house just touching stuff. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“You must live alone,” he murmured, picking up a bottle of ketchup and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. He opened the ketchup and sniffed the contents, then licked the inside of the lid. He made an appreciative noise and set it down, then unwrapped the cheese and nibbled on the corner.
There’s beer in the crisper drawer, I thought to myself.
“Really? Thanks,” Azir said, setting the cheese down and opening the drawer.
Wait, you can hear me? I asked.
“Hear might not be the right word,” he replied, picking up a bottle of my favorite IPA and twisting off the cap. “I know what you’re thinking, the same way you do. It’s kind of weird.” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhhh, I’ve always wondered what beer tasted like. Now I know.” He set the bottle on the counter and headed out of the room.
So, are you just going to make a mess of my house? I asked. That’s not what I expected from a demonic possession.
“Would you rather I find some virgin to disembowel?” Azir asked with a grin as he started up the stairs.
No! Of course not, I said. I guess I just thought you’d do more.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” the demon said. He entered my bedroom and pawed through my closet, smelling the fabric softener and rubbing his cheek against one of my softer shirts. His gaze lingered on the bed, but he walked into the adjoining bathroom instead, tasting the toothpaste and mouthwash. “Mmmm, that’s better than the beer,” he said and took another sip.
You’re supposed to spit that out, I told him. Don’t go making me sick.
He grunted his displeasure, but leaned over the sink and spat out the mouthwash. He sniffed my deodorant and aftershave, and then opened the door of the shower stall.
Nothing in here is edible, I said, hoping to prevent him from tasting the soap. He just turned on the water, letting the spray patter against my hand as he adjusted the temperature. Stepping back from the stall, he began to remove my clothes. What are you doing?
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Azir said, my voice muffled as he stripped my shirt off over my head. Steam began to fill the room and I cringed inwardly, imagining the black mold beginning to grow in the corners.
Could you at least turn on the exhaust fan? I asked. He obliged, flipping the switch before shoving my jeans and boxers down around my ankles and stepping out of them. Nude, he admired my reflection in the mirror. It was bizarre: even though it was my body, my face, I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
The demon dressed in my flesh stepped into the shower, groaning low and long as the hot water cascaded over my skin.
“Azrael was right,” he said, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “This is positively sinful.” He turned a slow circle, savoring the pounding spray, and I realized with no small amount of horror that my body was reacting to his enjoyment. I was getting a hard-on.
Okay, test drive is over, get outta my body, I said.
“Make me,” he moaned, running slippery hands down my smooth, flat abs, toward my stiffening cock. That’s when I knew he had tricked me. I had forgotten to ask how to get him out.
Begone, demon! I thought forcefully, imagining myself physically shoving him out of my body. He just laughed.
“That tickles,” he said. “So does this.” He faced the shower, letting the spray dance over my hard cock. “What a surprisingly sensitive organ,” he said, wrapping a hand around my shaft and giving it a long, slow stroke. I felt so dirty, so violated.
Stop it, please, I begged him. I never agreed to let you use my body for this.
“Did you really think all I was going to do was taste your food and sniff your deodorant?” he asked. “This is part of the deal and you better get used to the idea. Now just relax and enjoy the ride, and don’t pretend like you’ve never done this before.”
It’s different when I do it, I responded, my thought-voice small and defeated. What had I done? I was at the mercy of a being of pure evil, trapped inside my own body until God only knew when. What if he never gave it back? Was this his plan all along?
“Your fussing in there is very distracting,” Azir said. “I told you to relax. When I’m done, you can have your body back, don’t worry. And by the way, that whole mental push-thing you did, that would have kicked a lesser demon clear to the curb. I just happen to be strong enough to resist. Not strong enough to come in uninvited, but once I’m in...Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” He began to stroke my cock faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
I wanted to tune this out, but I had forgotten to ask how to do that, either. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave him alone with my body. I could feel the pleasure gathering in my groin, hot and heavy, my breath coming faster as he neared climax. At least it would be over soon.
Azir gasped, grunting as my muscles tightened, my balls drawing up as I dumped my load. He staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Wow, I had no idea,” he panted. He rinsed the cum from my skin, then shut off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, he grabbed a towel off the shelf in the corner and began to dry my body.
Satisfied now? I asked. Can I have my body back?
“I said when I’m done,” Azir replied, dropping the damp towel on the floor with my discarded clothes. He walked into the bedroom stark naked, the air raising goosebumps on my wet skin. “I don’t suppose you have any toys in here?”
Absolutely not! I said, but if I’d had control of my body, my gaze would have darted to the nightstand beside the bed. I guess Azir could feel it, because he made a beeline for the little drawer. That’s not mine, I said as he pulled out the drawer.
He chuckled as he picked up the slender, bright blue, cock-shaped vibrator. “I suppose the previous tenant left this behind and you just couldn’t throw it out in case they came back for it. Look, how thoughtful. They left some lube behind, too.”
My girlfriend bought those, I said.
“Aww, were you really that bad in bed, that she needed battery-operated assistance?”
No, she wanted to use it on me, I snapped. I said no and she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. We had a fight and I called her a twisted pervert and she left. That was six months ago. Okay, maybe I had over-reacted to her request, but she was just too aggressive. I had never even thought about doing something like that, and I needed time to get used to the idea. Would I have come around eventually? I don’t know. I kept the stuff, didn’t I? Even though I never touched it after she called me a prude and walked out.
“Boy, oh boy, my night just keeps getting better,” Azir said, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and flopping down across my bed. He stretched and writhed, rubbing my bare skin against the cool, soft comforter. “I don’t know which I like more, your sense of taste, or your sense of touch. There’s something so sensual about all this tactile stimulation.”
I hadn’t really thought about what he’d told me before, about how a demon’s senses were muted or absent, but his obvious enjoyment of something as simple as rubbing against a blanket made me consider what an empty existence it must be. No scent, no flavor, no pleasure. Considering that, I could hardly blame him for masturbating a little. Or a lot, for that matter. He could have been doing things a whole lot worse.
Go ahead, I thought with a sigh. I won’t pretend to like it, but I also won’t complain.
“Really?” Azir said, going still as he raised my head.
Yeah, just...just don’t hurt me, okay? As soon as I thought the words, I wished I could take it back. Admitting my weakness and fear to a demon was probably the dumbest thing I could have done in that situation. But again, Azir surprised me.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, and I was again left to wonder if demons were capable of lying. He sat up, leaning back against my padded headboard, my knees bent and legs spread. That alone would have been enough to make me blush. I wasn’t a prude, but I was certainly more modest than that.
The crinkle of plastic filled the silent bedroom as Azir removed the seal from the bottle of lubricant. I watched nervously as he drizzled the thick, clear gel onto my fingers. He reached down between my legs and began to smear the gel between my cheeks, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he rubbed a small circle around my opening. I will admit, it felt better than I had expected.
Azir took his time preparing me, though I didn’t know if that was for his benefit, or mine. I supposed it didn’t matter. He added more lube to his fingers and slipped two of them inside of me, spreading the gel and stretching that tight ring of muscle. That felt good, too, although I did my best to hide that fact from him.
Finally, he slathered the blue silicone surface of the vibrator with lube until it was slick and shiny, stroking it like a real cock as the fat, rubber balls at the base jiggled. My own cock was hard again, but Azir ignored it, reaching down behind my balls instead and guiding the tip of the vibrator to my opening.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, heels digging into the bed as he pushed back against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, yes.” I couldn’t believe how easily that rubber cock slid into my asshole, my muscles gripping, pulling it deeper. It was a strange feeling, but nothing like I had expected. Azir eased it in about halfway before stopping to let us catch our breath.
That’s deep enough, right? I asked. He didn’t answer. Right?
“Tell me, Eddie,” he said, breathless, “if you had just one night to live, would you only go halfway?” I had no answer for him. I suppose after experiencing the full range of human senses, the thought of returning to his demonic existence must have been like facing death. Was I crazy, feeling pity for a damned demon?
After giving my body a minute to relax and adjust, Azir slid the vibrator in to the hilt, the soft, silicone balls squishing against my ass. I felt full in a way I had never imagined, that rubber cock snug inside of me, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal. Not until Azir turned on the vibrator.
He gasped, my body arching, as the cock began to buzz inside of us. “Oh, shit...Oh, fuck...” he panted, rocking my hips until he found just the right angle. The vibrator pressed against my prostate and I saw stars, my cock jerking as it grew rock hard. I had never felt anything so wonderful, so intensely pleasurable, the vibrations filling me with a deep, aching need to cum. If it had been me, I would have immediately jerked off, but Azir had other ideas.
Reaching up above my head, he grabbed onto the headboard, breath hissing between my teeth as he pressed down into the bed to keep the vibrator in place deep inside of me. My cock quivered, beads of precum leaking from the tip, tickling my sensitive flesh it trickled down the head, and I suddenly realized just how helpless I had let myself become. I couldn’t even stroke my own cock. I was completely at the mercy of this horny demon...and I had never felt more alive.
Oh, Azir, please… I begged, the pleasure nearly unbearable as my neglected cock throbbed with need. Just a single stoke would have finished me, but he dug my fingers into the headboard until my hands ached, my room echoing with his breathless cries.
“Almost...almost there...Come on...” he panted, my whole body shaking. I wanted to cum so bad I even tried shoving him out of me again. It didn’t do anything, except make him laugh. “Nice try. You almost got me with that one. Just hang on a little more. Oh...Oh, fuck, yes!”
I cried out with him as the climax thundered through us, my muscles contracting, drawing the vibrator deeper as my balls drew up. My cock jerked like a puppet on a string as we striped my comforter with long, satisfying strands of cum. I can honestly say it was the best orgasm of my life, up to that point. When it was finally over, the vibrations against my prostate became truly unbearable, even for him, and he quickly turned it off and gently slid it out.
Exhausted and trembling, he slouched against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked after a minute. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. He sighed. “All right, just like I promised, you can have your body back now.” I thought that might be an invitation to help him along, but before I could even try, I felt that dizziness again. I reached up and touched my head, then jerked my hand back and stared at it. I wiggled my fingers, relieved when they moved at my command.
Azir chuckled and I glanced beside me, where he lay stretched out on my bed, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. I was still stark naked, of course, and I felt the heat rush to my face. Trying to salvage some scrap of my dignity, I got up and walked to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of boxers to put on, but I could feel the lube between my cheeks. I needed a shower. Maybe several showers.
“Well?” Azir asked as I headed for the bathroom. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I do need an answer. Which will it be, your body or your soul?”
I busied myself with picking up the discarded clothes from the floor while I tried to come up with a third option, but there wasn’t one. I was well and truly fucked. I heard a noise and glanced up to find Azir standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me, a smug, sort of wistful smile on his face.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was just thinking,” he said, giving his head a slow shake. “I’m almost six thousand years old, and I can honestly say that this was the best night of my existence. Thank you, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I grumbled grudgingly, but in a strange way, that was gratifying to hear. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining. “Do you promise that they won’t hurt me, or use me to hurt anyone else?”
“You have my word,” Azir said.
“And no more than one demon a day? I have a life, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with a slight smirk, as if he didn’t believe me. “Don’t worry, we can work around your busy schedule. Any other concerns?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do we have a deal?” There was a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as Azir held out his hand to me. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t lose my soul. Of the two, this was the better option. I hoped.
“Yeah, it’s a deal,” I said, shaking his hand. A rumble like thunder filled the room, accompanied by a flash of darkness, like the light suddenly dimmed, and I felt a sharp, hot pain in the palm of my hand. I jerked away from Azir as the smell of sulfur tainted the air. “What did you do?”
“It’s just a demon’s mark,” he said with a careless wave of his hand.
I looked down at my palm, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of a glowing pentagram flickering like a live coal beneath my skin. “This wasn’t part of the deal! How am I going to explain this?”
“Relax, would you?” Azir said. “Regular humans won’t be able to see it. It’s only detectable to demons and those touched by the dark arts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it for?”
“It’s proof of my claim on you,” Azir said, holding up a hand to forestall my next outraged protest, “and before you blow a gasket, it’s temporary. As soon as you pay your debt, it will disappear. But until then, it will serve as a warning to others that you belong to me.”
“I do not belong to you,” I said, my voice low. Azir just smiled, a flash of teeth that was both charming and sinister. Before I could say anything else, a column of fire surged up from the floor, engulfing Azir. It only lasted a moment, and when it disappeared, so did he.
Alone, I was suddenly hit by the magnitude of what I had done. I made a deal with a demon! I was damned, my soul destined for Hell unless I managed to earn it back, but doing so would probably corrupt me beyond redemption, anyway. I was completely fucked.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, closing my eyes, “what have I done?”
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?” The voice was soft and smooth, neither masculine nor feminine, and I looked up to find a person of indeterminate gender standing in the doorway. They had glossy black hair that fell in loose curls to their collar and pale blue eyes that were almost colorless. They wore long, flowing white robes under shiny silver and gold chain mail, with Roman-looking sandals on their feet. However, it was the iridescent glow and the giant white wings behind their back that nearly made my heart stop.
The angel gave me a reproachful look. “You are in a world of trouble, Edward.”
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